Chapter Two

I meander back to my apartment, humming "Absolutely (Story of a Girl)"by Nine Days. This song should get more credit. It's about crying rivers!

"This is the story of a girl who cried a river and drowned the whole world; while she looked so sad in photographs I absolutely love her- when she smiles!" I sing softly.

I pass the Gershwin Theatre, where Wicked is currently showing. I wonder if Santana's seen it before… Seen me.

Santana Lopez. I've talked to her for maybe three minutes, and she's already running circles in my brain. This is something different. It's something real. I can tell there's a connection between us, a connection so powerful that it was tangible in those mere three minutes. I don't know… There's something about her. Her confidence. It's admirable how sure of herself she was back there.

I walk into my apartment, the one I share with my castmate Rachel Berry. She portrays Elphaba in Wicked, and does a darn good job.

Rachel is… interesting, to say the least. She's vibrant. Very outgoing, driven, passionate about her career… Crazy, sometimes. I don't think she'd deny that. They say the way someone does something is the way they do everything. That's definitely true about Rachel. She does everything with passion. She's a good person. Caring, for sure. Once, my cat, Lord Tubbington, was on the fire escape, and then he wouldn't leave. He got trapped. It was dangerous, 'cause it was nighttime and anything could've eaten Lord T. He'd make a filling snack.

Anyways, he was trying to catch a pigeon. I dunno why he'd try… The pigeons are six times faster than him. Anyways, Rachel coaxed him from the fire escape using raw meat. That in itself is selfless, 'cause Rach is a vegan. It took an hour for him to come back inside, but Rachel kept at it. I still owe her for that.

"Brittany! You're home early. I thought your night escapades with Samuel would have kept you for longer. I got the Wicked tickets specially for tonight, though I suppose it's good thing you didn't go; I suppose you haven't heard that the whole crew came down with the flu tonight, besides me, because as you know I never get sick, but everyone else did, therefore cancelling the performance. Anyhow, Samuel had called me a week ago, explaining his intentions of a romantic evening as a sort of reunion for you two, seeing as you don't seem to see each other often, as his career as a construction worker keeps him quite occupied. I understand that buildings have to be built, what with the bountiful homeless and all, though I don't know exactly the precise populace of those unfortunate people in Lima, but perhaps Samuel should take a few more days off once in a while, given that you charming young couple barely get to meet up and exchange accounts of your daily lives. As well as other things. So, Brittany. Why are you back so early? Did something dreadful happen?" Rachel gasps.

Rachel tends to talk a lot.

"Well, he made a rude sexist comment. I defended myself, then this random woman chimed in. Sam got all mad and left," I explain.

"Hmm… I do believe he has done that before. You would imagine he would have learned by now. I'm sorry, Brittany."

"It's all right. I met this woman tonight. The one that stood up for my rights."

Rachel gets a sly smile on her face. "A woman, hmm?"

I blush, and immediately shake my head. "Just because you're bi, Rachel, doesn't mean the rest of the population is."

"Hey now, I wasn't implying you or this woman are bisexual or lesbian. I was merely inquiring."

I sigh. "Rachel, I don't know. I talked to her for three minutes."

"Then, pray tell, why do you grin like a silly fool whenever you mention her, and what is written on your right hand in black ballpoint pen?"

I glance down at said hand. Santana Lopez written in a messy yet elegant scrawl.

"It's her number," I say, defeated.

Rachel squeals. "Oh my gosh, you asked for her number? That's a well-known question in the community that symbolizes, 'Hello, I would like to date of have sexual interactions with you.'"

"No! I had clarified before that I only like her as a friend!"

"Oh, so your actions before the request for her digits were conveyed as flirtatious?" she teases.

"Ugh, Rachel. Why."

Rachel simply smiles. "Let's call her."


Dammit.

Why, why, does the Angel have to be Brittany Pierce, the woman I met half an hour ago?

This is why I can't have nice things.

Brittany was so likable. I had only listened to her and that dumbass's conversation for a few minutes, talked to her for another three, and yet she already has a hold on my mind.

Brittany Susan Pierce.

I flip through her file, wincing as I get a small paper cut. She's twenty-five. She grew up in Lima, Ohio. She lives in NYC, very close to the Gershwin Theatre. She's on Broadway as a dancer, currently one in Wicked. A very talented dancer, it seems. She has a roommate named Rachel Berry, one of the leads in Wicked. She has an obese cat named Lord Tubbington. She has a boyfriend named Samuel Evans. They've been dating for eight years. Her blood type is O negative. She identifies as a heterosexual. She barely passed high school (William McKinley High School) but excelled at Julliard, majoring in dance. Her favorite color is green. Her favorite food is apples with honey, and she despises oatmeal. The information about her seems to be endless.

Brittany Susan Pierce is the New York City Angel.

Damn.

"Santana Marie Lopez!"

I jerk my head up, startled. Oh, right. Quinn is here.

"Dammit, Santana! Listen to me when I talk!"

"I'm sorry! This Brittany seems interesting."

Quinn lets out a frustrated sigh. "You have to promise me something."

"What?" I ask, half-listening.

Quinn stares right at me, dead serious, and she looks the most vulnerable I've ever seen her. "Promise you won't fall for her."

"Oh, Quinn..." I say softly. "Why would you think that?"

"Because… When you were looking at her file… You just had this look on your face. A tender look. Promise me. I can't lose you, S. I can't. I… I love you."

Never in the years we've been together has Quinn ever said that to me. And I've never said it to her. It's not how we roll. Damn… she does love me.

"Q, you don't have to worry. She's an Angel. She doesn't compare to you in the slightest. You're beautiful, Quinn. You will never lose me. You're my best friend and lover. I promise. I… love you too."

Those last words feel strange coming out of my mouth, almost foreign. Love… I've never thought of it, of saying it. I thought Quinn always understood that I love her, so I never said it. The verbal statement seems to reassure her, though.

Quinn steps forward and kisses me all of a sudden, pushing hard. Her tongue slips into my mouth, and it's probably the most passionate kiss she's ever given me. It's strange.

When we break apart, Quinn smiles.

"Thank you."

I smile back, and am about to say something when my black iPhone rings. I give Quinn an apologetic look and glance at the number. It's unknown, but in the state of New York.

I press answer. "Hello?"


"Rachel!" I hiss, covering the microphone.

She laughs, and grabs my white iPhone out of my hand.

"Hello? Is this Santana Lopez?" she queries cheerfully.

I try to grab the phone back, but she runs incredibly fast and locks herself in the bathroom.

"Rachel Barbra Berry!" I shout, pounding on the door. "Unlock this door right now!"

"Yeah, it's Santana. Who's this?" Santana's voice floats through the door. Rachel must've put her on speakerphone.

"This is Brittany Pierce, who you met tonight."

Oh no.

"Oh, hey. Calling so soon? How forward of you."

Her voice is sexy. Wait, why did I just think that? I mentally berate myself.

"Maybe. Well, I was wondering if you'd like to go for lunch with me tomorrow. As friends," Rachel says confidently.

Santana laughs. "Sure, let's do it. Meet you at the Gershwin Theatre."

"How… How do you know I live near there?"

There's silence on the other end.

After a pause, she says, "Umm… I may or may not have been so intrigued by you I Googled you…?"

I furrow my eyebrows. The way she said it sounded off, somehow. Rachel is satisfied, though.

"My charm is overwhelming, isn't it? You just needed to know more," she gloats. I'll see you, Ms. Santana." Rachel hangs up.

Oh God. I'm having a lunch date with Santana Lopez tomorrow.

I lean my back against the bathroom door, sliding down and coming to a rest, effectively blocking Rachel's way out. I stare at the wall across from me, painted white with peeling starting to occur, my bedroom a few feet away. Well darn. I don't get it. Why am I feeling so happy, yet nervous? Why, whenever I think about her I feel like my smile could break my face? There's so much more to this than I thought.

"Let me out, Brittany," Rachel calls.

I steal a glance at my bedroom door. The white wood stares back, and I weigh the chances of Rachel catching me summoning my laptop. I would get up and retrieve my laptop myself, but I can't risk letting her out of the bathroom to see what I'm up to. I don't know why… I just don't want her to know I'm Googling Santana. I look back and forth between the bathroom door and my bedroom door.

"What the heck," I murmur.

"Let me out," Rachel repeats, this time more forceful.

I raise my left hand and concentrate, picturing my Macbook Air in my mind. The bedroom door opens, and the laptop floats its way over to my lap. I lift the top, and wait for the whirring to stop. I log in, typing my password in with great precision. Eventually, my background image comes up- Sam and I at a carnival fair in Ohio. His face is painted like a clown, white covering his visage with cherry red cheeks, lips, and nose. His smile is blinding, and his arm is wrapped around my shoulders. I in return am painted like a cat, black paint that had already started to crack and white whiskers, my eyes sparkling as I stare into his, a grin on my own face. I remember that day clearly. Eight years ago.

I was seventeen, him sixteen. No duties yet, just the reckless lives of teenagers as they live their lives carelessly. It was the annual fall carnival, and Sam had asked me to be his "date." I had accepted, because firstly, Sam was and still is my best friend, and secondly, I thought it was pretend. He had never shown interest in me before, so I thought nothing of this. Many boys have made advances before, but I declined each offer. I wanted a real boyfriend for my first kiss, someone who'd love me for a long time. Not a hookup.

We ambled around the fair, soaking in the sounds and the lights and the festivity suffused through the nippy air. As the day came to a close, I turned to Sam and started to thank him, but he put a finger to his lips. I giggled, and didn't make a sound. He pulled out his camera and took this exact picture. As I looked into his eyes, my heartbeat sped up and we both leaned in, our lips touching lightly.

That was the night of my first kiss, and it was truly awesome.

A loud pounding on the door I'm leaning against shatters my daydream. The vibrations jolt me forward, but I immediately push back against it.

"Brittany Susan Pierce! Open this door right now!"

Oh, right, Rachel.

"Not yet," I call back. "Somehow I'm getting a reverse sense of déjà vu. This is your punishment for stealing my phone. Kaaaaaaarma."

Even though I don't really mind.

As Rachel's frustrated groans echo through the bathroom, I pull up Safari on my laptop and quickly search Santana Lopez New York City.

There are two. The first I click on is a champion hot dog eater who is twenty-four. The other is a twenty-six-year-old fancy lawyer with her own firm. She's probably the fancy lawyer. Though Santana didn't seem like a snob, she was definitely classy.

I close the laptop and levitate it back to my room. I stand up and pull open the bathroom door. Rachel must've been leaning against it, 'cause she fell right on me, knocking us both to the floor.

"Ow!" I yell. "Rachel!"

She slowly disentangles herself from me and winces. "Sorry, Brittany. Here's your phone. Since I wasn't sure how long you would keep me in there for your said revenge, I decided to lean against the door to rest my legs a bit."

I whack her playfully on the head as I take my phone back. "Don't do it again, kid."

"Which; stealing your phone or landing on you in a heap of limbs?"

I shake my head and smile. "Both."

Rachel grins broadly. "All right. But Brittany, do you want to cancel the date? I'm sorry if I overstepped your boundaries."

I cringe. "Don't call it a date. Please. But… No, it's fine. Santana seems like a very nice person."

Rachel sports a crafty grin. "All right, Brittany. But I have a feeling you're going to fall for this woman. Call it gaydar or bidar, but my Sapphic senses are tingling."

I roll my eyes and go into my room. After I flop onto my bed, I stare at the ceiling.

Nope. I'm straight as a telephone pole.

Then why does my heart beat so fast?


A/N: AGH I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. I was in Colorado for the past ten days, which was awesome as a matter of fact, but I was super lazy before then and didn't write at all, which I feel terrible about. I revise my earlier statement to say that I shall update as soon as I possibly can. No specific time in between. Again, I'm incredibly sorry about the delay... But I hope you all enjoyed the chapter:) Reviews are welcome.

-L