The World Spins Madly On

I woke up just like almost every other morning; with a stranger in my bed, and a hangover. The woman sleeping next to me is a nameless creature, who I thought kinda looked like...well. I don't remember much about anything that happened last night, not even taking this blonde woman home. I groan and roll out of bed, staggering into the kitchen of my apartment and making some coffee so I could try to piece together what happened the night before.

As I make coffee, I glance at the clock on the microwave and before I can help it, a long line of expletives come out of my mouth. It reads 4:30. Apparently I swore louder than I realized and I bit back a groan as she smiles at me. I want to send her out the door, but I know I am required to at least make her breakfast. I quickly make a batch of pancakes, and try not to groan again while the blonde chatters away at me about what a great time she has last night. My inner bitch tells me to tell her that I don't even remember what happened last night, so it couldn't have been that great. Instead I just smile and nod, and give her a lame excuse about needing to work to get her to leave. She kisses me and asks me when she'll see me again. I just smile and tell her I'll call her. Yay right.

I don't have to work tonight, but I do have to work tomorrow morning, so going out tonight is out of the question. That's honestly okay with me, because I still feel the hangover from last night. Instead, I curl up with some paperwork and get ready for court tomorrow.

When I am all done, and feeling adquately prepared for the case tomorrow, I power up my laptop, hoping to hear from my Abuela, or my parents. My Abuela hasn't talked to me since I came out to her a little over 10 years ago. My parents talk to me, but its mostly asking me when I'll settle down and have children. But everyday, I look on my laptop, hoping and praying that they'll sudden love me, or that Abuela will finally accept me.

Instead of a email from them, I see a name that I thought I'd never see, and my jaw just about hits the floor. It was sent last night, and its begging me to open it. The subject is - Santana, please open this email-. So like her to know that I wouldn't want to. So I gulp down the sick feeling and click open.

Dear Santana (it feels weird calling you that,

It's Brittany if you couldn't already guess. I guess I am emailing you to ask you if I could come stay at your place while I am in Boston. I have to be down there for a couple weeks, and I don't have the money to be able to afford a place. I have another person that said I could stay with him if you can't have me over. All we need is a bed and a roof over our heads. Would that maybe be possible? Also, we are heading down for the McKinley reunion, do you think you would want to come with us and see everyone? Well, I kinda waited till the last minute to send this message, and now I'm scared that you won't have room for me. We'll be there tomorrow night. I still have the card you sent me when you changed addresses. If you don't have room for us, we can stay somewhere else. See you soon.

Love,

Brittany S. Pierce

I have to say that I was ready to pass out. Like if I didn't calm down, my heart was going to explode out of my chest. I looked at the clock again, and saw that it was 7:45. I don't know what Brittany qualifies as night, but I can only assume it meant soon. I gulped down some tears, and raced around the apartment, cleaning and tidying up so that it looks like its always that way. I guess I could hire a maid or something so that it does always look like this. I quickly change the sheets on the guest bed, and throw some quick cookies in the oven so it smells nice in the apartment. I then put on a TV show and settle in, waiting for my heart to break again.