After reading all the comments (thanks for all the kind words by the way!), and kicking myself in the butt, I decided to make this a three-shot. So here is the 2nd chapter. Hope it's as good as the first. Let me know!

Disclaimer: I still do not own any of these characters. Thats all Glee right there.

CHAPTER 2

You know what things I don't understand?

Alarm clocks. I swear they're alive and evil. They work all the time like little good alarm clocks. Then on days you actually have to be somewhere they're all like "nah, lets not go off this morning". Its not like I didn't set it. I definitely set it to wake me up exactly at 6 am. And here I am…at 11 am. Just waking up.

Rushing. It never serves anybody any good. You're not in the right mind. All you can think about is "Oh shit. I'm late. I'm so freakin late. But I need a shower cause I smell like a cow." So you're bound to forget something. Or a couple things. Or just one REALLY important thing.

The girls who live on my floor. I understand there are a lot of girls on this floor. I understand we all have to share one bathroom. I understand people rush to classes and therefore forget to sometimes clean up after themselves. A simple towel left behind…or some toothpaste on the sink isn't going to kill anybody. But your gosh darn sanitary napkins overflowing and falling out of the trash can? Toilet paper scattered on the floor? Hair…all over the damn shower? I swear I could make a wig with all the hair I find in there. It's just not okay.

Showers. Why does it have to take like 10 minutes to find the right shower temperature? Showers should have 2 buttons. One that says "Cold"…because we know those come in handy every once in while. And one that says "The perfect temperature". It would save so much time.

Time. Seriously. I swear I stepped into this shower like 2 minutes ago and my alarm on my phone just went off to remind me it's 10 to 12. Where did the time go?! I mean…sure…maybe I should have rushed a bit more. The 3rd encore of "Valerie" probably wasn't needed. But the showerhead was pleading for me to do another.

Myself. How is it that I remembered to bring everything BUT a towel.

"Well shit."

"Maybe I could make a run for it? I mean, everyone has to be in class…I didn't see anyone in the hallways when I came in here. Then again I was rushing. Damn it! How could I forget a towel? Now I'm in this nasty stall. Dripping wet. And talking to myself. Gosh I'm going crazy. You know what…I don't care…I'm making a run for it."

Santana quickly grabs her things and moves the shower curtain away to start making a run for it. Right when she steps one foot out she hears a door close and some whistling. She quickly jumps back in the shower, quickly closing the curtain, slipping on the tiles, and finds herself flat on her butt.

"Owww my ass."

"Whoa. Hello?"

"Yea"

"Are you ok? I heard a bang."

"Yea"

"Ok…well um you might want to be more careful in the shower. I hear its one of the leading causes of death."

"No its not."

"Ok, maybe not. But it still is dangerous. Wait…Santana is that you?"

"Um maybe…who are you?"

"Its Brittany! From the bathroom! We met on the toilet!"

"Well shit."

You know what things I don't understand?

Karma. That's what people say right? When you do something bad, they tell you karma is going to come kick you in the ass. Which it does. The worst part about it is trying to figure out what exactly you did to deserve it. Like what in the world did I do to deserve having the world's most beautiful girl find me stuck on a toilet. Starting up the most awkward moment of my life. Walk out of my life. Not get her number. Think I'm never going to see her again. Just for her to find me stuck in the shower. Therefore starting up the 2nd most awkward moment of my life. What. Did. I. Do?

Words. There are people you will meet in life who just have "them words". You know what I'm talking about. They are charming when they need to be. Funny when they ought to be. And sweet enough to reel in every single person they get their little hook snagged on. Me? I have none of that. Not one bit of it.

Myself. Why haven't I stood up yet? If these shower curtains are short enough to show everyone's feet. I am sure she is getting an eyeful with my butt on the floor. Practically in plain sight. Nice one.

"Um hello?"

"Still here."

"Yea, I can see that…glad you stood up by the way…I was going to tell you that you might of wanted to."

"Sorry about that."

"Don't be. Cute butt."

"Oh may gawd."

"You ok there Santana?"

"I'm fine. Just practically dying from embarrassment. But I'm good. What are you doing in here anyway?"

"Well I was about to take a shower…"

"You live on this floor?"

"Last time I checked yes."

"That's crazy…me too."

"That's awesome! We're practically neighbors!"

"Yea, neighbors…actually Brittany…could you do me a favor please?"

"Join you?" Am I dead?…no seriously. Do I have a pulse?

"NO! No…um I'm actually done showering."

"Aw that's a shame."

"Yea, anyway…I actually forgot my towel and was wondering if you had and extra one I could borrow? I have one in my room that I will race back and get and then you could use that one or something. And I would wash yours and return it, unless you don't want it back cause its nasty or something. But I promise I don't have any type of disease…"

"Santana! Its fine." She's giggling. Great. Just when I think it couldn't get worse…I ramble.

"Oh ok, um thanks."

"No problem"

"Um so I will just open the curtain a bit if you want to pass it over."

"Wait a second, its not going o be that easy. I mean, here I am giving you one of my own towels…don't you think I deserve something in return?"

"I'm going to give you my towel once I get it."

"Not like that silly."

"Oh, then what?"

"I'm pretty sure we didn't finish our 20 questions game last time we saw each other."

"You know what…keep the towel. I'll air dry."

"Santana pleassseee!"

You know what things I don't understand?

Myself. I should of just stayed behind the shower curtain. Why did I peak out? Why did I take a look? Why did I let myself get cornered by the hottest pout I have ever seen. I didn't even know pouts could look like that. Why does her pout look like that?! It's a freakin magical pout!

"Well shit."

"I can't believe your making me do this."

"Oh cheer up Santana, its fun!"

"Brit…I'm in a shower naked and cold. Covered just by a flimsy shower curtain. While you sit on a bench. Withholding a towel from me until I answer questions you will ask. Which will most likely be embarrassing and personal. When is the fun supposed to start?" Why the hell is she smiling so wide?

"Why are you smiling so wide?"

"You called me Brit."

"What? Shit…um sorry…I didn't…ugh"

"Its fine…San"

"Um ok. Anyway, how many of these do I need to answer?"

"15"

"What?!"

"We only asked like 5 before"

"Brittany I don't have time to answer 15 questions."

"Ok fine you big party popper. 3 questions. But I can ask whatever I want and you have to give me an answer! No dodging it!"

"Ugh…fine."

"Yay! Ok, we'll start off easy. What are you here for? Like, what are you studying?"

"I want to go into music production. I like to sing, music in general is my life, and I like to be in control...so I thought this would kind of be the best of both worlds. Hopefully in the future own my own music label…its a reach though."

"That's awesome!"

"Am I allowed to ask you 3 questions as well?"

"Of course."

"Well then…same question to you…what are you here for?

"I'm here on a dance scholarship. Hoping I get a break somewhere. It would be nice to be able to perform on stage in front of thousands. But I also love kids, so I always thought a back up would be becoming a dance instructor. You know, co-owning a studio. All that stuff."

"I'm sure you'll make it big"

"You haven't even seen me dance silly"

"Yea well, you're good at getting your way so…"

"Ok next question…"

"Can I ask it first this time?"

"Go for it."

Brittany stands up and walks over to Santana. Stopping a couple feet in front of the shower curtain.

"Are you seeing anyone right now? Like…romantically"

"Not a soul."

"Why not?"

"Does that count as a third question?"

"No, its a two part question. So answer it."

"So you do like to be in control"

"Brittany…"

"Ok, ok. I personally just haven't found anyone worth my time. I'm not one who just has flings…if I'm going to take time and effort dating someone, I mind as well date someone who would be worth it."

"Makes sense."

"Ok my turn! So why didn't you ask me for my number last time we talked?"

"Um…jeez. I don't know. I guess I was a bit embarrassed. It just kind of slipped my mind. I mean you didn't either."

"I was waiting for you to make the first move. When you didn't I just figured you weren't interested in being my friend" Just a friend?…guess I'm not worth her time either.

"Ok well…as my third question then…can I have your number so we can be friends?"

"Yes you may." Just when I thought her smile couldn't get wider.

They swap phones, typing in each others numbers, Brittany suggest Santana takes a picture for the photo I.D, Santana kindly declines reminding Brittany that she is in fact naked.

"Ok Ms. Brittany one more question for you, then the towel is mine, but make it quick. I'm already so late."

Brittany walks up closer so that the only thing separating them in the thin shower curtain.

"Where is it exactly do you always run off to?"

"Well shit."

You know what things I don't understand?

Excuses. Why are they so darn hard to make up? I mean aren't they there to help people? Aren't they there for those times where you're out of Twix, don't have a moment, and need a couple words to get the person off your back? Then why are they so hard to make up? Some people are geniuses at making them up. But this girl? This girl is not.

Myself. I could be open. I could be brave. Throw all caution to the wind and say "KISS ME ON MY LIPS BRITTANY (STILL NEED TO LEARN YOU LAST NAME)!" But I don't. Not even one bit. Why? I have no stinking idea.

"Just class."

"Class?"

"Yup"

"You're lying"

"What…um…are you talking about?"

"Santana…I thought we were friends" Oh gosh…she looks like she is going to cry.

"Ok…Ok…its just work Brittany. Seriously. I have a job."

"Well what do you do?"

"Ah…that would be a forth question which is not allowed"

"No! It's a two part! You got one!"

"Brittany, its seriously nothing big…ok? I just don't want to talk about right now."

"Ugh fine. Here's you towel."

"Thanks…even though I'm mostly dry by now anyway."

"Oh so you don't want it then?"

"No! No…hand it over"

Santana wraps the towel around her, picks up her stuff, and goes to leave. Brittany is still in front of the curtain just staring at her.

"Um, are you going to move Brit?"

"As long as you promise me something."

"What now?"

"You have my number now."

"I know…"

Brittany walks up closer until they are face-to-face, noses practically brushing against each other.

"Your my friend now."

"I know."

"Don't make me wait so long this time San."

"Ok."

"You promise?"

"I promise Brit. Now come on…move"

"Ok"

Brittany looks down at Santana's lips then back up to her eyes, she slowly leans in just as Santana closes her eyes. Right before she hits her lips she quickly turns her head to give Santana a quick kiss on the cheek, and then rushes into the next stall to shower. Santana stands there shocked, then quickly makes sure she has everything and hastily makes her way out.

"See yah soon, friend!"

"Well shit"

You know what things I don't understand?

Friends. What exactly is a friend? In the middle between family and a complete stranger? That's a pretty big gap. So then you have to decide what type of friend are you exactly? Like the "Almost Friend" who you just met, you like them, but you wouldn't trust them anymore then you would trust Swiper from Dora the Explorer. The "Good Friend" you know the ones that never give you problems, is awesome to hang out with, but doesn't give you the time of day when you need advice cause your just not "there" yet in your friendship. The "Best Friend" basically like a girlfriend/boyfriend, with a little bit more sarcasm, violence, and without out all the sexual stuff…so the friendship itself is draining and somewhat unsatisfying. Then you have the "Friend Zone" the completely unwanted stage of friendship that you are thrown into when someone you like does not like you back, so you are stuck with this awful, uncomfortable, mess of them telling you about their love life and you hating yourself for sitting there and listening. It all kind of sucks.

Myself. Why'd I even promise? Everyone knows my scared-ass-self isn't going to call her. She's amazing…perfect even! She deserves better, she deserves someone worth her time. Not me. Not…just a "friend".