I need to give a belated thanks to gottriplets for her contribution to the previous chapter. The 'girl talk' part of "TKTS and Anatomy" was all her idea and made the chapter much better.
"This is it, Kurt. I just know it!" Rachel bounced on the subway seat. "This will be the right apartment for us."
He didn't bother looking up from his phone as he replied, "You're just in love with the address."
"Well come on…..Starr Street? It's a sign!"
"A sign that you think anything with the word 'star' in it is meant for you."
"And you too. You're still planning to re-apply next semester, aren't you?" She stopped bouncing to sit back, and tried to look over his shoulder. "Who are you texting, anyway? Can you actually get a signal down here?"
"Yes, I'm planning to re-apply, no I don't have a signal, I'm writing an email to Blaine which I'll send when we're back above ground, and don't read over my shoulder."
"I've written to Finn dozens of times since I've been here," she said in a more subdued voice. "He hasn't answered any of my emails."
He saved the email as a draft and pocketed his phone away from her prying eyes, glancing up to check where they were. The scrolling information at the end of the car told him the next stop was Grand St. Just a couple more stops then.
"You know he's in Basic Training, right? The Army doesn't allow communication with anyone while recruits are in Basic."
"But it's been months. Wouldn't he be done by now?" The train pulled into the Grand Street station.
"I'm not sure," he said evasively as passengers got off and new ones got on. The car wasn't nearly as crowded now as it had been when they left Manhattan on the L line. They'd had to stand till Bedford Avenue, the first stop after crossing over into Brooklyn. A lot of passengers had gotten off then and they'd been able to find seats.
"But surely Finn's mom knows how to get in touch with him, in case of emergency. I tried asking her but she said she couldn't reach him either."
"Rachel." He put a hand over hers. "Stop. Don't do this to yourself. Finn let you go so you can pursue your dreams in New York. He knew this was what you wanted, and that he didn't fit into your plans."
"He didn't even try."
"Look at it this way. Would you stand in the way of him pursuing his dreams?"
"No, never…..of course I want him to have dreams and goals for himself. But do you really think the Army is his dream? I mean, he never mentioned it till the day he told me he was going, the same day he put me on the train."
"I think," he said slowly, "that Finn's dream is to honor the memory of his father, and make everyone proud of him. Joining the army is his way of trying to accomplish that."
"I suppose," she replied morosely.
He looked up and saw they were pulling into the Morgan Avenue station. "Next stop is ours, Rachel." He watched as two young men hitched large backpacks onto their shoulders and stepped out onto the platform, stopping to read the signs before heading for the exit. "They look like they're backpacking around the world. Did you see how big those backpacks were?"
She smiled, apparently getting over her temporary funk about Finn. "New York is so special that even people from other countries can't wait to visit here. And we get to live here, permanently!"
"If we can find a place to live," he reminded her. The train began to slow again as it arrived at Jefferson St, the closest stop to the address they'd been given.
"This will be the one, I know it. Though I still can't believe my roommate actually helped us out."
"She really wants that room to herself," he smirked.
They got off the train and followed the signs to the exit they'd been told would be easiest. They both squinted as they came up the steps and stopped for a moment to pull out their sunglasses.
"There's so much more sun here!" Rachel exclaimed. "I feel like we're on Sesame St."
"You think we're on a preschool show?"
She smiled and sang softly, "Sunny day, everything's a-ok….." as she reached into her purse and produced a travel bottle of sanitizer. She offered it to him after cleaning her own hands.
"Good idea," he agreed as he rubbed it in. "How many millions travel the subway every day?" He shuddered.
"I've decided it's better not to think about it," she declared. "I just apply sanitizer throughout the day, take my Vitamin C, and close my mind to it the rest of the time."
He handed the small bottle back to her, making a mental note to stop into a Duane Reade and buy one for himself. Once his eyes adjusted, he was able to take his first look at the neighborhood.
"Cue the tumbleweed rolling across the road," he remarked. "Are we still in New York at all? Where's the four-lane gridlock that we know and love to hate?"
"Everyone says that Brooklyn has more of a neighborhood feel," she commented, also surveying the virtually empty street. She pointed to the street signs. "We're on Wyckoff Street. I think if we follow it for one block that way, the next intersection should be Starr Street."
It wasn't, of course. They walked two blocks in the wrong direction, passing buildings that looked almost like warehouses. Graffiti was evident here and there, but they passed one wall where the graffiti had given way to a full-blown mural, which included flags from various countries. They backtracked to Starr St and managed to walk the correct direction on the first try, and by the time they were halfway down the block they could see a park.
"Right down there!" Rachel said excitedly. "Miguel said there was a park across the street."
A small child went gliding past them on his scooter, using one leg to push off again when he slowed, apparently headed for the park. They both turned and looked behind them at the same time, and Kurt assumed Rachel was wondering the same thing he was, whether there was an adult with the child. A Hispanic woman was pushing a stroller, coming up behind them. Though she was walking at a brisk pace, she didn't seem particularly frantic about catching up with the boy. They turned back to the front and saw he had stopped at the intersection.
"City kids are well trained," Kurt commented.
"Street savvy is what they are," she replied. "They have to be."
They continued past the little boy, who continued to wait at the curb for his mother to catch up, and crossed the street. Starr St now ran parallel to the park, which had a sign on the fence announcing it was the Maria Hernandez Park. It seemed to be quite busy with dark-haired children playing ball, riding bikes and scooters, or walking their dogs. There were also teenagers on skateboards and adult teams playing basketball.
"I have to feel good about a neighborhood that has such a nice park," Kurt commented. "But why do I have the feeling that if we move here, I'll be wishing I took Spanish at McKinley instead of French?" he asked, just as a car rolled by with its windows down and blasting music with a Latin beat. Cars and pedestrians were more plentiful on this block. Looking down toward the next intersection he could see a couple of stores with Spanish names.
Rachel had been scanning the house numbers while he took in the neighborhood.
"This is it!" she blurted loudly. She ran up the steps of the building—just like every other building in the row—except that this one had the number 151 over the steps. She scanned the names next to the door and pressed a button. "Second floor," she announced.
The speaker crackled to life and a voice told them to come on up as the door buzzed. One narrow flight of steps later, they were met on the landing by a Hispanic twenty-something whose broad shoulders stretched under his shirt.
"Are you Miguel?" Rachel asked.
"Si, that's me," he answered, holding out a hand to each of them in turn. "You ready to see the place?" At their nods he pulled a sliding door across and ushered them into a room the size of the McKinley High auditorium.
After a week of surveying Manhattan apartments that were approximately the size of the average walk-in closet, Kurt stopped on the threshold, in shock at the expanse of room he saw now. It stretched before him for what seemed like the length of a football field. He turned to look at Rachel, whose eyes were wide as she took it in.
"Is this it?" he asked Miguel, just to be sure. "This is the apartment for rent?"
"Si." Perhaps he misunderstood the expressions of amazement on both their faces, because he asked, "You did know it was unfurnished, right?" They both nodded and stepped further into the room, overwhelmed by all the space. "Maybe you want to take a few minutes to look the place over? I'm going to take a few more boxes down."
For the first time Kurt noticed the packed boxes sitting by the door. "Sure, take your time, we'll just look around."
Miguel went over to the boxes, but stopped before picking one up. "Oh, about the bikes," he pointed to two of them leaning against the wall next to the boxes. "I can't take them with me. If the next person to rent this place doesn't want them, I'll put them on the curb with the trash."
As his footsteps faded down the stairs, they looked at each other and laughed, the sound echoing out across the room.
"Oh my God, can you believe this place?" Rachel spun out into the middle of the room, executing turns one after the other. "It's the size of four NYADA dance studios!"
"We could install a dance barre along one wall so you could rehearse!" Kurt contributed.
"Oh! We could build a little stage like in my basement at home! We could put on a whole play here!" Her eyes lit up, and he could almost see her choosing which play they should perform first and what to call their off-off Broadway theatre.
"Or we could just live here. And be grateful that we can each have our own bedroom with our own personal space," he countered.
At that, they both stopped and looked at the space more carefully.
"There are no bedrooms," she whispered, deflated.
"No interior walls at all," he agreed. They both turned slowly, taking in the entire room. Several large wooden columns broke up the layout just a bit, but otherwise it was one large room with no partitions. A kitchen area with counter, sink, stove and refrigerator occupied one corner. A small room protruded out from the opposite corner, the door closed. "I really hope that's the bathroom," he said, starting toward it.
"I've heard of apartments in New York with a communal bathroom down the hall," she said nervously, right behind him.
"If that's the case here, no way." He reached it first and pulled the door open, relaxing when he saw a small bathroom with the basic shower stall, sink and toilet. He walked in, flushing the toilet and turning on the hot water in the shower.
"Everything works?" she asked from the doorway. There really wasn't space in the bathroom for two people.
"On initial inspection, yes," he answered. He looked around the tight room again and then up at her in alarm. "But there's no counter space in here! Where will we put all our beauty products?"
"Let me in," she answered, stepping back to give him room to exit. She looked around herself once she was inside. "Hmmm…..maybe we can put some kind of shelving up on the walls? Or is there space behind the mirror?" She turned to the mirror above the sink. "Oh, no way. I can't possibly use this mirror. I can't even see myself in it!"
"Maybe we can get you one of those kid stools?" he quipped from the doorway.
"I'm not talking about the height, though granted the only thing I can see is my forehead. I'm talking about how small and cloudy it is, you can't possibly approve of this." She turned to him with a pleading look.
"No, I don't." He shoved off the doorframe and turned to survey the room again. "I think we'll have to put a vanity here, just outside the bathroom. With a decent mirror, and Hollywood lighting, and plenty of space for all our various products."
"OK," she said from beside him. "That might work. And really, having it out here would be better, it will free up the bathroom for whoever else needs it."
"Everything ok in here?" Miguel asked from the doorway. "You like it?"
Kurt looked at Rachel quickly before answering, "We're still checking the place out, if that's ok?"
"Take your time," he answered easily, and lifted two more boxes from the stack by the door, disappearing again.
They stood in silence for a moment, studying the cavernous space.
"So…..bedrooms," she finally said. "What are we going to do about that? You know I love you, but a girl needs her privacy."
"So do some boys," he responded. "Especially when they're expecting their boyfriend to come for frequent visits." He walked out into the middle of the room, thinking. "We could take a cue from your roommate," he said finally. "Use these columns to hang up curtains, make cheap temporary walls that way. It's not like we can afford to build walls in here, even if we could get permission from the landlord to remodel."
"Wouldn't offer much in the way of soundproofing," she countered. "The past few weeks taught me that."
"Earplugs?" he offered, half joking. "Loud fans?"
"Or maybe we can alternate date nights, decide in advance who gets the apartment for the evening if we have company."
"Company? Not just Finn?" he asked. She looked at him over her shoulder as she meandered away, and he interpreted her gaze to say, I have a secret that I'm dying to tell, so ask me. "Do you have your eye on anyone at NYADA, Rachel?" he prompted.
"Well, there are quite a few hot guys there," she said with a lilt to her voice, leaning against a column. "A lot of them play for your side, of course, but not all. And there's one who made a point of telling me he was straight, and he wasn't wearing much at the time."
"Hold on, the guy from the shower?"
She smiled. "His name's Brody. I would never think of cheating on Finn, of course, but he hasn't been in touch with me for months and if…." She stopped, gazing off across the apartment. "If we're over, then I should be free to date who I want, right?" she finished, looking back at him resolutely.
"Yeah, you should. And it'll be Finn's loss."
She gave him a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, before they both turned toward the noise at the door.
"What do you think?" Miguel asked.
"Well, we do need to talk specifics about taking over your lease, obviously." Rachel stepped forward and spoke assertively, shedding the lovesick girl from a moment ago.
"But we like it," Kurt added. "And we'd like to see what kind of arrangement we can make with you."
"Great!" He clapped his hands once. "Let me take down this last box, and we'll talk." He disappeared again.
"Did we just agree to live here?" Kurt asked in wonderment.
"I think we did," she whispered. "Our first New York apartment."
"Are we doing the right thing?" he asked. "I mean, it's not going to be the most private setup, even with curtains for walls. And we have to furnish it, and did you notice how long the subway ride from Manhattan was? It took us nearly an hour to get out here."
"But we can't afford Manhattan, and look at this place! It's big enough to—" her eyes fell on the bikes by the door, and her face lit up. "To ride bikes indoors!" She ran over and grabbed the white one, swinging her leg over and pushing off.
"Hey! Wait for me!" he affected a little kid voice and was right behind her on the black bike. They were riding in circles around the room and laughing when Miguel appeared with lease papers. This was really happening.
