Brittana Week 2013 Collaborative Collection
For this year’s Brittana Week, Muriel and I have decided to do something a little different with the prompt lineup.
We are working collaboratively to string together a few small, related pieces based on a selection from the Brittana Week prompts. We will alternate authors every other prompt and each story will be, in some way, a continuation of the previous fill.
At the end of it, we expect to have a few chapters lined up for a small fic. Here’s hoping it turns out well and makes sense in its completion!
For other pieces in the series, see:
Part 1: STARS
Part 2: TROUBLE
Part 3: BREATHE
Part 4: PRINCESS
Part 5: FONDUE
“Mama?” Cece calls from the living room.
“Yes, sweetheart?” You enter the room and sit by her on the couch as she flips through an old scrapbook of yours.
“What’s Fondue for Two?” she asks. “There’s a picture of it in your book!”
“Oh, that picture? I forgot we still had that,” you smile, “that’s from the first sleepover I ever had with your mommy when we were kids.” You can still remember every detail of that night.
“And battement fondu to the front…two-three, and side-two-three, and back-two-three, and center. Now rond de jambe, two-three, and center. Relevé and change sides,” Madame Balon says softly - practically singing - as you attend to your barre lessons. Every Tuesday and Thursday for the past month at 4:27PM, you’ve arrived ready for class in a black leotard, pink tutu, and perfectly coiffed bun. At first you were hesitant to start a ballet class. Ballet is for girly-girls, but your grandmother insisted. And then you met her: Brittany Pierce.
Brittany Pierce has been taking ballet classes since she was 3 years old. She is 9 and a half with the silkiest blonde hair and brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. She goes to Johnston Elementary, which isn’t too far from yours. Brittany arrives at Madame Balon’s studio at 4:36 every Tuesday and 4:39 every Thursday. Every time you see her, she has a different braid or pony or bun. Her blonde tresses catch the sunlight in the window and distract you during warm ups — but in the good way. She has three leotards; one is light pink with a turtle-neck, one is white with rainbow unicorns and it crosses in the back, and one is black just like yours. Brittany Pierce has been your barre partner for the last 5 lessons, and you like it that way.
“Now to the left. fondu front, two-three, and side-two-three, and back-two-three, and center.”
“FONDUE?!” Brittany stumbles in late again, putting on her left slipper. You’re both wearing the same leotard today, which makes your stomach jump a little. It’s done that all week long every time you’ve thought about tonight. Tonight is your first sleep over at the Pierce household.
“To the barre, Ms. Pierce,” Madame Balon instructs.
She skips to the barre and faces you, whispering, “I love fondue!”
“Other way, Ms. Pierce,” Madame Balon insists, her patience growing thin. Brittany twirls.
“What’s so great about fondue?” you whisper behind her shoulder, genuinely confused by her excitement.
“What? Fondue is great! What’s not to like? I can make mom do it tonight if you want. We have a pot.”
At this point, you are still confused. Is a fondue a plant? Some kind of pasta? What do you need a pot for? Suddenly you’re terrified. What if you go to Brittany Pierce’s house tonight and don’t understand anything they do? What if you make a complete fool of yourself? You’ve only known her for a month. If you mess this up, she won’t want to be your barre partner anymore. Should you even ask?
“And to fifth — changement, changement, changement, changement,” Madame Balon chirps, “changement, changement, relevé, detourné.”
Jump, jump, jump, gulp. “What exactly is fondue?” you take the chance. Jump, jump, relevé, turn.
“Only the best thing ever!” she responds. Deep breath. Okay, maybe she doesn’t think you’re too weird for asking. “We can do cheese or chocolate, whichever you want!” she finishes before turning again. Oh. It’s food? Well that should be fine then. You try to concentrate on your grand battements.
Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock on the wall isn’t keeping time with the pianist. How many minutes until this class is over and your long-awaited sleep over can begin? Thirteen minutes. You breathe, every possible scenario of the evening to come is rushing through your brain. What will you play? Will her parents like you? How late will you stay up tonight? You are inexplicably nervous and incredibly excited. Even though you and Brittany Pierce have only known each other for a month, something about her makes you relax when you’re together. Usually you are on your guard, proving yourself to everyone. With Brittany Pierce, you can breathe, relax, laugh even. Mom says she’ll be good for you. Relax. Soutenus. Find your spot, find your spot. Brittany. She’s in the opposite corner smiling at you. She’s your spot.
“And 1-2-Santana-begin!” Madame Balon sings.
One, Spin, Brittany, spin, two, spin, Brittany, spin, three, spin, - keep your spot - spin, four, spin, arabesque and done. You did it. You did it? For the first time this month, you’ve successfully soutenu’d your way across the studio. Your heart rushes with pride and joy and excitement. Brittany jumps with equal excitement and gives you a big hug. You like her hug. It’s warm and friendly and reassuring. If only Brittany were always there to be your spot. Note to self: always follow Brittany. Especially during the soutenus.
“Alright ladies, you may stretch and change. Nicely done today. I will see you here at 4:30 sharp on Tuesday. That includes you, Ms. Pierce,” Madame Balon winks at Brittany. Even though she gets frustrated at her tardiness, Madame Balon loves Brittany. Everybody at the studio loves Brittany. Brittany Pierce is the most elegant dancer in the class.
You walk as calmly as possible to the changing room. This is it. It’s finally time for your first sleepover with your new best friend. Brittany skips up behind you, “SLEEPOVERRRRR! First I have to introduce you to our new kitten and then we can have dinner when it’s ready and then I thought we could do the swings for a bit and then I have some other ideas too!”
“I can’t wait,” you reply timidly.
You hear a loud horn out front honk twice.
Her mom is here for you. You climb into the red minivan and buckle your seat belt after Brittany’s lead.
“How was dance, ladies?” Mrs. Pierce asks. Mrs. Pierce looks just like Brittany, but her eyes are not as sparkly. She smiles in your direction and immediately gives you that same warm, welcome feeling that Brittany does. You begin to relax, realizing just how much you’re going to enjoy tonight.
“It was fun! Thank you for letting me spend the night tonight,” you chime in, sure to show Mrs. Pierce your manners.
“It is our pleasure, Miss Santana!” she replies with a chuckle.
You sit in the back seat with Brittany talking dance and school and music and boy bands until the car pulls into their neighborhood.
“Mom, can we do fondue tonight? Santana has never had it!” Brittany pleads.
“I have chicken in the oven and a salad ready to go, but maybe chocolate fondue for dessert if you’re both still hungry,” Mrs. Pierce smiles back.
Brittany slides the van door open before hopping out on the driveway and running to the front door. “Come on, San!” she gestures toward you. This is it. Your heart races. You both enter the painted brick house, set your bags down on the bench in the foyer, and head upstairs to the playroom. Her house is big and pretty with what looks like old, fancy furniture. The only piece of fancy furniture in the playroom is a wooden rocking chair that Brittany claims was her grandmother’s. It’s beautiful.
“I’ll be right back,” she says as she rushes out of the room. You walk toward the rocking chair and admire the beautiful design carved in the wood. This doesn’t look like your furniture at home — your rocking chair is white and without decoration — but you like this. There are vines with flowers carved into the arms and across the back of the chair. You wonder if this was the chair Mrs. Pierce used to rock Brittany to sleep in as a baby.
“Ta-da! THIS is Lord Tubbington!”
You turn around to find her holding the kitten she’s been raving about for the last month in ballet. He’s very cute, but cats aren’t your favorite. Brittany’s eyes are so sparkly when she talks about him though that you decide not to admit that you’re more of a dog person. You can be a cat person for tonight, right?
“He’s adorable!” You take him in your hands. He is really fluffy and soft. Maybe cats aren’t so bad after all?
“Dinner!” you hear Mrs. Pierce call from down stairs.
“Coming!” Brittany yells back.
After dinner Brittany insists on fondue.
“Okay, I’ll get the fondue set up, girls, but go entertain yourselves until it’s ready!”
You both head to Brittany’s room to play for a bit. Her room has aqua wallpaper covered with big pink flowers, a big comfy chair, and a white bed. She jumps onto her bed and you follow, giggling.
“What should we play?” you ask.
“I have a GREAT idea,” she beams, “let’s play reporter!”
“How do you play that?”
“Well, we can report the news and different stories and talk about dance and school… or maybe do an interview! Oh I know! We can interview Lord Tubbington!” she laughs. Brittany Pierce is quite possibly the smiliest girl you have ever met. Just about everything makes her happy, which makes you happy. “We’ll need microphones and a camera and we need to name our show.”
“Fondue’s ready, girls!” her mom yells upstairs again.
“JUST A SECOND!” Brittany yells back, “Santana, grab the two brushes on my table. I’ll get Tubs!”
You follow her instructions and grab a pink sparkly round brush and a white paddle brush from her dresser. You skip down the hall and downstairs for your dessert.
“Mom, we’re going to interview Lord Tubbington. Can you tape us?” Brittany requests.
“Ah, your very own TV show? Before or after fondue?” Mrs. Pierce asks.
“We can do both at the table! I promise we’ll be careful and not give him chocolate,” Brittany bargains.
“If you promise not to be messy, you can have your fondue for two at the table. I’ll grab the camera.”
“That’s what we can call our show, Fondue for Two!” Brittany exclaims.
You and Brittany scatter to get set up.
5. Microphones (brushes)
Ready. You sit at the dining room table, ready for the first ever taping of your new show: Fondue for Two. Mrs. Pierce enters with a polaroid and a video camera.
“Say cheese!” she says.
“No, say chocolate!” Brittany insists.
“CHOCOLAAAATE!” you both scream before the camera clicks. Mrs. Pierce pulls the photo from the camera and shakes it in her hand. There you have it, your first picture with Brittany Pierce from your first taping of Fondue for Two with Brittany Pierce from your first sleep over with Brittany Pierce. She takes a green sharpie and writes at the bottom “Fondue for 2”. You continue your interview with the fluffy kitten asking questions about kitty-siblings and teething and favorite toys and celebricats before you don your pajamas, brush your teeth, and settle into bed with Brittany.
Tonight couldn’t have been any more perfect. Your heart beats fast in your chest as you play reruns of the evening in your mind. Brittany drifts off to sleep right in front of you.
“Hey Santana,” you hear her whisper.
“Yeah?” you respond as nonchalantly as possible.
“I really liked today. Let’s do it again soon.”
Your heart melts into those words as you drift off to sleep, relaxed and content from your very first sleepover with Brittany Pierce.