"You kids don't eat enough" my mom tuts disapprovingly from her seat at the head of the table as we scarf our meal down. Usually my dad sits there but he's busy with work. Just like he is every time I come home to visit. Mom says it's just a coincidence. But I know better.

The three of us exchange a little look. We're all thinking the same thing. We're so poor we live mainly on cheap takeout and diner food. We've all definitely put on a few pounds since school. Even with our freakishly OCD workout attitudes.

"Do I look aneroxic?" I see Rachel mouth to Kurt who promptly chokes into his napkin and shakes his head. She looks worried, probably concerned about how it'll affect her singing on stage. Like she could act any better looking like a twig. Kurt takes her hand and gives her a warm smile meant to reassure her. I roll my eyes at them. Their BFF relationship is so sickening sometimes.

"We're eating fine, mom" I grumble taking a sip of my water. My Abuela chuckles across the table from me

"Kids these days," she laughs picking her own glass up as she leans close to my mom, "They never have time for the important things" she looks at me then and smirks like she's sharing a secret. My mind flashes to earlier and I frown at her. My mom nods along with a worried look for us all,

"It's true," she says looking round at us, "Do you kids ever get time off from work and college?"

Barely.

Kurt nods, "Oh yeah, but it's spent sleeping off all the hard work" Rachel joins him in a chuckle and he bumps his elbow against mine.

I shake my head at them. I could tell my mom they spend most of their 'de-stressing' days getting laid, getting drunk, and let's not forget, having the monthly hysterical breakdown binge ritual of eating their weight in ice cream and getting through two boxes of Kleenex each whilst watching every broadway show ever, wailing along terribly and thinking their kicking Doris Day to the curb. Its beyong nightmarish, trust. My mom would be shocked if i said that. They'd both be humilated. Probably turn redder than these peppers I'm smooshing to nothing on my plate. It'd be fun to watch actually. But I decide against it. She'd only turn on me if I did. And what I do is way worse. So when she looks at me I just nod along like it's true.

"That's terrible! You poor girls!" my mom gasps. I glance at Kurt and smirk. He doesn't mind. He's been an honorary girl since birth.

The dinner talk dies down after that. Everybody's more interested in their food. Well the others are. I just push mine around my plate. I'm still trying not to think too much about a certain blonde.

"This is fantastic, Mrs Lopez!" Rachel's voice groans happily around a mouthful of her veggie lasagna.

My mom smiles at her shyly. I love that about her. One minute she's fierce or disapproving and the next she's shying down like she's the smallest person in the world. She's nothing like me. I guess I got my bitch personality from my dad, and my abuela.

"Thank you, Rachel. You'll have to thank Santanna though, she taught me how to make it"

Oh crap.

Two sets of cutlery hit the table and I look up to find hobbit and lady lips facing me. They both stare at me and I feel my face heat up as I go back to pushing my food around my plate. Kurt taps my arm and gives me a wide smile when I glance back over at him

"You never said you could cook!" He wails accusingly waggling a finger at me. Rachel's nodding beside him and I hear my mom chuckle.

I shrug. Why would I tell them that? I'm not stupid. I know they'd get me to cook for them if they knew I could. I deflate a little in my seat when I realise the hell that's waiting for me when we get back to New York. I can just picture it. Breakfasts. Lunches. Dinners. Non stop menus and orders. I'll never get a rest. Just stuck forever in an apron while they demand dishes. I cringe thinking about it.

"You are so cooking when we get home!" Kurt declares reading my mind and grinning like an idiot.

Rachel's frowning beside him though. I'm half hoping that means she's scared I'll poison their food and will tell me I don't have to cook.

I should really learn not to get my hopes up.

"You do other vegetarian foods right?" She asks nervously.

I roll my eyes skyward and silently ask the universe why it's always me. My mom just carries on laughing. She knows me enough to know I'm wanting to turn invisible right now.

"So children, have you seen any of your other friends since being back?" Abuelita asks quickly cutting in and saving us from Rachel's next question. My attention snaps straight back to her the second she speaks. And I'm filled with the one paranoid question. Why does she care?

I stare at her. What's with the sudden shift in topic? Even my moms looking at her funny. It's not really like my grandma to start conversation, and especially not about my friends to my friends. In fact she doesn't even know the kids I hang with. She even goes out of her way to only speak Spanish when other people are around. So why ask? I just stare at her trying to figure out what her angle is.

Mom glances my way, sends me a warning smile to be good. I just shift my stare down to the table, silently wishing I could disappear. Because I know what's coming.

Kurt and Rachel don't notice our looks so they launch into all the short tales of reuniting with the gang. They tell her about Mercedes majoring in music, of Artie's graduation from Prinston, Quinn's progress in Harvard, Puck's acceptance into the airforce. Even Sam gets a brief mention with his architect apprenticeship. My mom smiles at me with each story. She's glad I've got friends that followed their dreams, that are doing so well. She looks so proud of us all. It makes me smile. And it makes me feel bad. Because what am I doing? Just living in New York. Yeah it was a dream but it's not hitting the penthouse forum is it? I sigh internally. I shouldn't have dropped out of college.

"And what about Brittany?" Grams asks cutting through the calm in the room, "Is she still around?"

The room goes quiet. Seriously, it's so quiet in here you'd think someone was about to die or something. My mom tenses in her seat, she's giving me a begging look, slowly shaking her head at me in warning. Kurt and Rachel don't know how to respond. They know it's touchy and that I'd rather not discuss it. So they stay quiet for me. Which I'm more than grateful for.

Everybody glances at me and I sigh. I nod. I can't keep them from talking forever. Better to get it out of the way now.

"She was headed for Michigan last we heard," Kurt says slowly watching my face for a sign to stop. I stay expressionless even though it's tearing me apart inside, "She graduated early and got accepted into MIT"

"Really?!" my mom gasps. I scowl back at her.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I snap suddenly. She gives me this look that says I'm jumping the gun. I know I am but she deserved it for thinking Brittany couldn't do all that.

"Well she did seem a little..." My grandma trails off with a smirk when she glances my way and realises how mad she's making me.

"Mama, please.." Everybody's eyes are darting between me and grandma but she doesn't look anywhere near close to backing down. I feel my jaw clench and my teeth grind.

"A little what?" I breathe slowly, looking her dead in the eye. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Kurt move to calm me and my mom shaking her head at him. Good. He should know to stay out of the firing line by now.

"A little.." She rolls her hand and pretends to look for the right word.

"A little what?!," I snap again, hitting the table with my fist, "A little what, grams? Blonde? Special?.. Stupid?"

Kurt tugs on my sleeve and whispers for me to calm down. I can't though. The idea of someone thinking Brittany was stupid has always made me mad, because of course she isn't. She's smarter than all of us put together! Thing is though my abuela knows that's the right button to push. So she keeps on stamping on it.

"Santanna, I'm certain your grandmother didn't-" Rachel doesn't get to finish. Abuela cuts straight over her like she never spoke, which annoys me even more somehow.

"Well now you mention it she did seem a few brain cells away from-" whatever she says cuts off when I stand up.

My mom is telling my grandma to shut up with her opinions. Kurt's trying to reason me into calming down, even though he looks just as angry as me. Rachel's sat there watching everything like it's the best show she's seen in a while. I lean on my hands and lean over the table to address my grandma. I glare into her old brown eyes and I'm having to force my voice to stay level when I talk. Because it's not really me talking. It's my good old pal Snixx. And she's pissed to hell.

"You know if Brittany hadn't been there for me when I told you about us we probably wouldn't be here. She was the one who held me when I sat crying in her room because my own grandmother couldn't accept that there was gay in the family. She told me that you'd come round, that you loved me. She believed you'd change your mind someday. And hey, look at that, you did,"

She and my mom open their mouths to speak but I'm not done yet, Snixx is on a roll,

"Thing is grams, Brittany might not be a rocket scientist. She might not be an award winning author. She might never grow up to marry into royalty or find a cure for cancer. But she's perfect anyway. She believed in me from the start and she helped me realise a real life where I feel safe and accepted and loved. One where I don't have to constantly look over my shoulder because people judge instead of trying to understand. And you know what? That's a hell of a lot more than you've ever done. So who's the smarter one now?"

I turn my back on their shocked faces and leave the dining room to storm my way up to my old room. I start shoving all my clothes back into my duffel bag I brought with me from New York the second I get in. I'm not staying here anymore. I can't stand the looks and the snide remarks. It's like I'm back at high school. Worse I can't stand the memories. I haven't spoken about Brittany like that in months. At least, not sober. Kurt and Rachel sometimes manage to squeeze a few emotions out when I'm drunk and the waterworks start. I think that's what's made us come closer as friends. We all hear each other's pain when we're drunk and somehow it sticks to us the next day and we talk it all out. It's like one big therapy session. It's easy too. I know I can say anything to them and they'd listen, they'd help. But Brittany is still a sore subject. And they know to avoid it until there's at least seven shots inside of me and some Kleenex nearby.

I sit down on my bed when I'm done packing. I'm tapping my feet and scratching my hands through my hair. I feel so wound up and stressed. I thought coming home was supposed to make me feel better. I thought it was supposed to be a break. If I'm honest the noisy drama of New York had me more relaxed. I stare down at the bedsheets while I focus on breathing my anger out and my fingers start to brush out over them. In my head I can feel them crinkled and creased up under my back while she smirked above me.

"Stop it santanna" I chide slapping my wrist and dragging the memory back. I've got to stop that. I'm just reopening the wounds. I'm tempted to call her. I'm tempted to throw away any pride I might have and just dial her so I can hear her voice. It always calmed me hearing it. I kind of need to hear her. Even to hear her shout at me like I know she wants to. But I don't have her number now. And she must hate me too much to ever accept a call from me. I would if I were her. I flip back on my bed and groan miserably up at the ceiling. There just isn't enough time in the world to fix us. And I hate that.

Kids today have no time...

I lurch up and look up at my walk in closet and suddenly I'm standing up. I'd love to change what happened between me and Brittany. I'd literally give whatever was left of my pathetic black soul for a way to get her back. Because I did miss her. I never stopped long enough before to notice but I fucking miss that crazy cute blonde.

I stare at the closet for what feels like hours. I'm trying to decide whether I want to fall for the same joke twice today. Am I really that desperate?

Yep.

"Okay grandma. Let's see how crazy you are"

I stand up and slowly walk to the door, and I stop with my hand on the handle for one last second thought tommy sanity before I step inside the closet and shut the door. I don't turn the light on. I remember what my abuela said about needed it off so I could focus. I turn around so I'm facing the door and I plant my feet shoulder width apart. My hands ball up by my sides and I let out one last breath of skeptic disbelief before I close my eyes. Nothing happens. I just feel like an idiot standing in the dark.

Focus on the point you want to get to.

I think about Brittany. I think about how bad I want to see her. How I need to tell her I was an idiot and want to change things to how they were. My skin tingles like someone's blowing on it. I frown but keep thinking, keep tightening my fists. I'm getting pretty nervous.

I open my eyes after a moment and look around. Nothing seems any different. I scowl into the dark.

Abuelita was talking total shit.

I step out of my closet and sit down on my bed, frowning after a moment when I realise it's messy, like somebody's just jumped on it. I don't think I heard anyone come in before. I look around the rest of the room and notice my bag's not on the floor anymore. That's strange. Maybe Kurt came in and saw it packed and moved it for me.

I wander out of my room to ask him and bump straight into my grandma. I scowl at her.

"Watch where you're going, mija" she says adoringly as she strokes my cheek. I slap her hand down and she jumps, startled.

"Don't talk to me" I snap angrily. She just humiliated me. I don't want to hear a word she'd got to say right now.

She frowns at me a moment and then she grins, "You just came back, didn't you? I knew you wouldn't resist trying it out"

I stare at her. She's utterly insane!

"Nothing's happened! You sent me into a cupboard like a kid. Nice joke, grams" she just laughs and steps aside so I can walk down the stairs.

"You'll see" she sings back at me as I step around her. I roll my eyes. Whatever.

I go into the lounge and sit down, closing my eyes a moment to relax. I get about five seconds into calming down before the door flies open and I jump out of my skin. Rachel busts into the room wearing a relieved and annoyed face.

"There you are! You know for somebody who had a really good upbringing you're-"

"Not much of a host, my mom gave you the tour and you gossiped about my crushes growing up. Blah blah blah. Sing another tune, Rach"

She's staring at me shocked, "How did you- what do you mean another tune?"

"You told me this earlier" I remind her annoyed. She shakes her head at me

"Santana, I've only just finished the tour with your mom. And what do you mean earlier? It's like ten am"

I stare at her, searching for the joke. It's not there though. I look outside and nearly crap myself. It's not raining like it was when we had dinner just now. It's actually bright outside. And Mrs Jonson from next door is out doing her morning run. Again? I don't know what to think. My heart slowly starts to pound with nerves. I'm freaking out.

"No way!" I shout jumping up and staring down at myself. It's real. It's actually real! I'm a fucking badass time traveller! I can't help but grin. I feel like Peter Parker when he realised he was spider man.

Really, Lopez, you're going nerd now?

"What?! What's wrong, santanna?"

I reach out and touch Rachel's arm with a laugh when my hand doesn't fall through her like it would in a dream -not that I ever dream about drawfy Jewish girls that like to annoy the hell out of me.

Holy crap! This really is real?!

"It's actually real!," Rachel gives me a crazy look but I shake my head, "Doesn't matter. I-I need to see my grandma"

"Are you okay, santanna?" She asks catching my arm as I step around her. I nod despite knowing nothing is okay. I'm seriously freaking out here!

"Yep. Fine. Do me a favor?," she nods but her eyes have narrowed suspiciously, "Go help my mom with dinner"

"But she-" Rachel gets cut off by my mom calling my name for help in the kitchen, just like this morning. Rachel blinks at me in surprise but goes to help.

I let out a long deep breath and run upstairs to abuela's room. She's perched on her bed with a knowing smirk when I crash into the room. Like she was waiting for me. She lets me sign madly at her and waits for me to grab a hold of my thoughts enough to remember to close the door before she says anything.

"Finally decided our abuela isn't mad have we?" She sneers as I shut the door. I ignore her and kneel by her feet.

"Grandma...What.. How... I mean...What the fuck?!"

She gently slaps my cheek and gives me a stern glare. I apologise for cussing and she lets out a deep breath.

"It's hard, I know. But it's okay, it's a gift"

"Can mom...?" She shakes her head

"Sometimes it skips a generation depending on the genes. You're lucky you take after your abuela"

"Lucky?!," I cry back loudly, "This is crazy!"

"I thought the same. I thought my mother was insane. But she wasn't and neither am I. You have this gift, santanna. Now go use it"

"For what? What can I do? Can I like go back and kill hitler? Or make a bet on the Super Bowl and win? And what if I go back and stop dad getting that dumb car? But what happens to the future? Will-"

She stops my excited babbling with her palm on my cheek and an adoring smile that reminds me of when I was ten. She shakes her head at all my questions and chuckles softly to herself.

"One at a time, mija. We can only go back into our own lines. So no hitler for you," I shrug, I didn't wanna save the world anyway, "As for that other stuff it is possible I suppose. But you must realise what you do here today has an effect on tomorrow. And there are only so many times you can get a right tomorrow"

I nod. I forget how wise she can sound sometimes when she's putting a few metaphors in. It makes sense though. I have to remember that when I'm telling Quinn to keep away from puck.

"Okay. Got it" she beams at me and pats my shoulder in permission to leave. I stay where I am though. There's something bugging me.

"Did you mean what you said about Brittany?" She looks at me confused and then I realise, "You don't know. It hasn't happened yet"

"What hasn't?"

"You said she was stupid," I shake my head because technically she didn't say that, "No, you said something about brain cells"

"Whatever I said was to make this happen. You're too stubborn sometimes, mija. I was just thinking I might have to push a few buttons before-"

"Why'd you tell me? About all this? Why now?" I ask looking up at her.

Her smile flicked a little like she's seen me say this before and is deciding the best way to react. I narrow my eyes at her

"You've been here before haven't you? We've had this conversation more than once"

She nods, "A few times. You kept- How do young kids say it?.. Freaking out" I roll my eyes and she laughs, "And doing that. You just time travelled and you're still so skeptical"

I flinch when she says it. Somehow it makes it all much more real. Which sounds stupid compared to the actual thing but there you go. My abuela takes my shaking hand and pats down my hair

"I told you about this gift because I want to make things right. You and that girl-"

"Britany"

"Brittany. You seem miserable, mija. First I thought it was because you missed your home and family. But now you're here I know it's her. You don't glow like you used to. I don't know what went wrong. Your mother refuses to discuss it. But I know my reaction to what you are was a factor in your leaving Lima. And I'm sorry. I don't want you to feel you have nothing here, sweetheart. I want you to use this gift and make sure something stays. I want you to use it to find your happiness"

"You want me to go back and stay with Brittany?" I'm so confused. Is this some joke or was my grams actually giving me her blessing?

Too little too late, I think bitterly

She shakes her head, "Whatever makes you happy"

Britanny would. I could go back and never break up with her. I could go back and come out sooner. I could go back and tell her I love her and every single day after that would be perfect.

I'm grinning. I'm hopeful. Suddenly I get it. I suddenly understand the importance of being special, the importance of this moment.

I'm gon' gets me ma Brittany back.

"This is the best inheritance ever!" I squeal standing up and looking over at her closet. She catches my hand before I can leave though. She looks serious all of a sudden and I'm scared why.

"You have to be careful," she says sternly squeezing my wrist when my eyes roll, "Changes have consequences, Santanna"

"Like what?" I ask frowning. She shakes her head at me and let's go of my wrist

"You'll see. Just be careful. Sometimes the right way isn't always good"

"What the heck does that mean?" She stands up and smacks me again

"It means quit back chatting and go!" she walks out the room muttering under her breath in Spanish, and I stare after her before I run into her closet and close my eyes.

I know exactly where I want to go.