Don't worry, Lopez. You got this. Just another hot bitch with potential. Lots and lots of potential. And the sincerest and kindest eyes. And the most perfect beauty, like, ever. But, whatever just another perfect bitch with potential.

I don't want to seem like I am fussing over what to wear – even though I totally am – so I end up just throwing on what just happen to be the best sweats of all time because they make my ass look totally on point and a v-neck. Obviously I make sure my abs are visible through the shirt.

I'm not too worried about my hair. I just tie it up in a messy ponytail. I was after all about to start sleeping...

With one last look in the mirror – smoking hot– I head out to the dining room with a prayer in my heart that Berry's talking me up to Brittany.

"... but actually, she's quite harmless. She's come an extremely long way to be the pleasant, although sometimes a bit promiscuous, young lady she is today. I'm 94% certain she still hides razor blades in her hair now." I hear Rachel tell Brittany.

No, no, no. The prayer I had in my heart asked for her to "talk me up," not to call me an "armed floozy." No. I gotta do damage control now. Fantastic.

"No, no, Berry. I assure you, I no longer have blades in my hair." I take a seat and look right at Brittany. "I promise, no blades. I stopped doing that in high school because the blades kept messing with my extensions. And I absolutely cannot do without my extensions." I try to add lightly and it totally worked because she's totally smiling at me.

Rachel begins to serve us but I'm not really sure what. I've been here long enough to know not to ask any questions. As long as I don't ask, I can pretend it's filled with delicious meat.

"So Brittany, why don't you tell us a little bit more about yourself? Such as do you live alone, where do you work, where did you come from, any hobbies, or anything else?"

Wow, Berry's getting better at not incessantly yapping.

"Well, I just moved back from California. My contract ended so I didn't really have any reason to stay. So I figured I might as well come back home and try the whole Broadway thing while saving up money to open up my own studio." She was looking at Rachel since she was the one to ask her the question but then she turns to face me. "And, you know, New York has the most beautiful women I've ever seen." Then she winked at me. Again. And then my ovaries fell in love.

"Broadway? Are you an actress? If so, please do me the favor of letting me know ahead of time for which roles you wish to audition so I can save you the trouble of being rejected if I also wish to audition for the role." Rachel rambled on.

Wow, just when I thought she was learning to control her impish ego...

Brittany's obviously in shock at Rachel's self-esteem. She keeps looking at Rachel and back at me with her head tilted, confused eyebrows, and her super kissable lips parted. It really is the cutest thing.

"Jesus Christ, Hobbit. She's been here for less than an hour and you've already managed to creep her out by show-casing your ego." I snap. I gotta do some damage control so Brittany doesn't scare away. "I apologize for her, Brittany. She still hasn't gotten used to living amongst humans." I throw in my signature smirk.

"It's ok, I totally understand where she's coming from. Lord Tubbington says I should get used to being told things like that because with my talent, I'm bound to get a ton of haters." She says with a shoulder shrug. Wait, Lord Tubbington? What? Oh my gosh, she has a royal boyfriend. My heart broke a little. I just met her and she's already hurting my heart. Fuck my life. And the fact that she refers to him by his title is kind of creepy. It's not fair. I've never the guy but I'm like a 1000% sure I'm better for her than he is. Of course I'm better than him.

Oh. I guess she's not just going to be a quick fuck for me like I thought.

"Oh, Lord Tubbington? How long have you guys been dating?" I try to act genuinely interested but I can't help but to be a little hurt.

She's giggling. She's fucking giggling. It's sooo cuuuteeeeeee! What is wrong with me? What's wrong with her? Why's she giggling? I'm just staring away at her with my "wtf?" face.

"Lord Tubbington isn't my boyfriend, silly. He's my cat. I don't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I actually haven't had one since college."

YESSSSSSS. Win for Lopez!

I have a shot! She's not dating a member of the royal family with a name fetish/superiority complex. This is great!

"So, Brittany. If you don't act, how do you plan to be on Broadway. Surely you must understand that the magical platforms of Broadway are not suitable for the every man." Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. She's on a roll tonight.

"I'm a dancer. I dance."

Dancing. She dances. Dancers are nice. Dancers are nice and flexible. Dancers are nice and flexible and sex-goddesses in the sheets.

She's pretty much almost perfect at this point.

"Dance?" I ask. "What else do you?" What's her favorite book? What's her favorite ice cream? What does she do when she's sad? What's her guilty pleasure? Backstreet Boys or 'Nsync? Does she have any siblings? I want to know everything about her. I'm so drawn to her. I don't know what's going on with me. I've never felt like this before. Never.

"Um, well, I pretty much do what every other single 24 year old does: have fun. Oh, and I like to feed the ducks on the weekend. I'm pretty sure they work hard during the week so I like to give them a reward." She grins. "What about you guys? I mean, I'm sure Rachel's too busy cobbling shoes to really have a life or anything but what about you, Sanny?"

Sanny? See, she's already giving me pet names. It's like we're meant to be.

"Brittany, I really don't appreciate what you're insin-" Rachel starts but I quickly cut her off.

"I go to med school but I don't go full-time because I sing. Or at least I try to sing. I want to be a singer. But other than that, I don't do much." I can't really tell the girl I inexplicably like so much about the other girls I've slept with. Even I have more tact than that. "Oh, and don't tell anyone I said this," I say in a whisper and lean in towards her "but I knit."

Oh, my gosh. WHY did I tell her that? Only Rachel knows about my knitting. Great, I wear comic book panties and knit. She's going to think I'm so lame. Fuck.

"You knit?! That's so cool. Sanny, make me a hat. Pleaseeee? It'll be so cool! And, you can make yourself one too and we'll have matching hats and it'll be the cutest thing ever." Brittany yells in excitement.

The knitting thing didn't back fire on me, yes!

I can't help but to chuckle at the epic amount of cuteness bouncing up and down in the seat in front of me.

"Ok, ok. I'll make hats for us, Britt. We'll have them in no time."

"I don't get a hat, Santana?" Rachel asked.

"No, sorry. I don't know how to knit children's apparrel. Maybe in a few years when your growth spurt kicks in, sweetie."

"Fine. Whatever, Santana." She huffs as she takes a bite of her tufurkey.

"who run the world? Girls!

Who run the world? Girls!"

Then Britt's phone goes off. Cute ringtone.

"Oops, sorry, guys! It's my roommate. Do you mind if I take this?" Brittany sheepishly asks.

"Go for it." I say.

"Hey, Quinn. What's wrong?" Britt says. "oh, I'm having dinner with our neighbors, I'm sure they wouldn't mind. Ok, bye." She hangs up and looks at us. "Hey, I'm sorry but I think I should get going. My roommate needs help doing something for work."

She's leaving? Sad Santana.

"Oh, no problem. I understand." I say as we all stand up and walk her out. "I hope I get to see you again." I barely say above a whisper. Gosh, no game.

"Of course you'll see me again, we're neighbors! And, plus, you owe me a hat." She says as she leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

After that, I really don't know what happened. Her kiss was perfect. A tiny kiss on the cheek managed to paralyze me. I just stood there.

"Santana? Santana, are you all right? Why aren't you moving?" Rachel worriedly asked me.

"I'm fine. The grass you prepared for dinner just wasn't green enough."

"I will have you know that all of the ingredients in tonight's dinner were perfectly ripened. No, the reason you're acting all funny right now is because you, my friend, have a tiny crush on our neighbor and her kiss seems to have sent you in some sort of lesbian trance."

"What? No! No crush. She's just nice to look at."

"Whatever, Santana. Just know this, she's our neighbor. So if you do sleep with her and then leave her, you'll have to see her almost every day. Imagine how awkward that'll be. Just be careful is all I'm saying."

"I would never leave her!" I quickly say. Never.