So, I think that Rachel and I might be friends. I know I sound really hesitant by emphasizing the word might, but things are kind of weird. It isn't bad or anything, it's just something different I guess.
We've been meeting up a couple times a week for about a month and every time we've had at least one chaperone. The first time it was with Kurt and the entire time I felt like I was there with Rachel's protective older brother, which is weird because Lady Hummel has never intimidated me before. Despite that, our first "play date" was amazing. She hugged me and even though I only had one arm around her, it felt so good having her there. I almost dropped Papá's picnic basket so that I could pull her closer because I'd made the mistake of inhaling through my nose. I take that back, it wasn't a mistake, it was more of an oversight and a failure to realize how powerful sense-memory is.
Anyways, after the short but successful picnic in the park, we planned more group… dates… I guess. The next one included Kurt, Blaine and Sam. Apparently, Blaine and Sam became bros during their senior year and even refer to themselves as Blam on occasion. It's actually pretty cool, mostly because Sam seems to be okay with Blaine's blatant crush on him… despite being with Kurt again… and I don't think Kurt notices. Or maybe he does and he and Blaine are conspiring a way to turn Sam and recruit him into some polyamorous… thing. Or you know… not. Whatever, it was fun and I got to spend time with Rachel.
One time she came to meet me at Columbia and we had lunch with a few of the friends I've made here. All they wanted to talk about was Funny Girl and how they were so jealous. I actually hardly got a word in edgewise. I got to watch her though and she is so adorable. She's so humble and I'll be honest, I actually didn't think she would be when she achieved this. I know, it's not the nicest thing for me to think, but humble was not a way that I would describe Rachel Berry in high school. But now that all of this has happened to her, she's noticeably grateful. I can also tell that she isn't used to having people recognize her in places.
Oh, one time she and Sam met me at a Starbucks and we had a Google Hangout with Brittany and Quinn. That was interesting. We were all trying to squeeze into the camera on my MacBook and I was in the middle. Rachel was so close to me. At one point, I got so lost in her being that close to me, I forgot literally everything and my hand slid onto her leg. I didn't even notice that I'd done it. I didn't notice until someone else did:
"Hey, Rachel, are you okay?" Brittany interrupted our, well, mostly Sam and Quinn's, conversation about Gay-Straight Alliances which I really didn't care about because well, I couldn't give two shits about them. I figured the last thing the conversation needed was me bitching about how I thought they were just a place for straight people to feel like they have a purpose and for bisexual people to attempt to feel welcome somewhere. That would have triggered a rant from Quinn about how bi-phobia is running rampant within the gay community and while I agree with her wholeheartedly, I stand by my theories on GSAs.
"Yes, Brittany, sorry," I saw her head shake out of the corner of my eye, then her hand fell on top of mine. That's when I realized where it was. It's absolutely insane that something so simple as her hand touching mine could set off so much in my body. My heart started throbbing and my stomach did that fluttery thing that was so hard for me to get used to. "I guess I just zoned out. I've never really cared for GSAs," she shrugs, "I feel like straight people go into them all high and mighty because they're 'supportive' and bisexual people go looking for acceptance."
"Well…" and the rant that I thought I was avoiding started. I don't think Rachel saw it coming and as Quinn spewed out all of her facts and feelings on the subject, Rachel's fingers interlocked with mine and she squeezed out what I think was laughter. I did hear her snort very lightly and it was the most adorable thing.
See, this is why I emphasized the word 'might.' Yeah, it seems like a friendship is what's developing between us at the moment, but every time I'm near her, it gets harder and harder not to fall into what I know. I spend more time away from Rachel than I do with her and it gives me a lot of time to think about what's happening between us. Granted, we text often so it feels like we're always in contact with each other, but reading something someone says isn't the same as seeing someone when they say it. I realized that Rachel and I don't know how to be friends. We've never been friends. We weren't friends before we were together and we definitely weren't friends after we broke up. All we know is how to be together and how to not be together, there's no middle ground. And now we're here two years later, trying figure out how to exist in this uncharted realm of friendship and I'm pretty sure we're failing.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that this is an all or nothing situation. I mean, that's usually how I go at most things, but this is a little different. There are hearts at stake here and I'm finding that I care way more about Rachel's than my own. I can't hurt her again. I won't hurt her again.
When she broke up with me, I told her that I wasn't going to stop fighting for her. I meant it and even though it's a long time coming, I'm going to prove it to her.
~:~:~
"Hey, Puckerman! How much longer until you grace me with your disgusting presence?" I answer my phone as I unlock the door to my apartment. Puck is in New York for a week for something Air Force related. Clearly it isn't for Fleet Week because a) it's October and b) he isn't in the Navy. Who knows what he's here for, but we made plans to meet up with Rachel, Kurt and Blaine. I just so happen to have this Monday afternoon free because two of my professors are at some conference at Princeton… gross... but whatever I have two cancelled classes! It's also Rachel's first Dark Monday after her opening last night and only free afternoon all week.
"Actually," oh that doesn't sound good, "I'm really sorry, bro, but I'm not gonna be able to make it."
"What?" not gonna lie, I was actually really excited to see him. I haven't seen him since his last stop here before he went to boot camp, "Seriously?"
"Yeah, it sucks but I got called to some meeting with some pretty high up officials, I kinda have to go, you know? Hold on a second, I have to put you through security," he says and right after I hear him put his phone down on something.
This does suck, by the way, because now Rachel and I are going to be third and fourth wheels. Kurt and Blaine are always so couple-y and because Rachel and I are "friends" it feels ridiculously awkward. I personally feel awkward because I feel like we should be the same way, unable to keep our hands off of each other except that I'm fighting like hell to keep my hands off of her. I can't overstep anything.
"Hey, sorry about that," Puck comes back, "And I'm really sorry that I can't make it. I was really looking forward to this."
I can hear that he really is disappointed, "Duty calls, though."
"Tell everyone that I miss them, will you?"
"Sure," I answer with a little sadness.
"Hey, you're still gonna go, right?"
"I don't know, it gets kind of awkward when it's just Klaine, Rachel and me…"
"Dude! You have to go!" he's pretty much yelling at me, "Who cares if it's awkward, you're spending time with her."
Well, that was quite the outburst, "Okay, jesus, I'll go."
"Good, you can't win if you sit on the bench, bro," he uses a sports analogy as if I could possibly relate to it. I'm gay but I'm not that gay.
He's still Team Santana though and I do appreciate it, a lot, "Thanks, Puckerman."
"Anytime, Lopez," I can hear him smile.
"Okay, clearly you're somewhere important, so I'm gonna let you go. I have to get ready anyways," I say as I start to change my clothes. I'm not wearing my Columbia hoodie to this. It's chilly so I'm not wearing a dress, but I'm not going looking like I just rolled out of bed either. Let's be serious.
"Don't try too hard, Santana, she already thinks you're hot," he says it like it's no big deal. I actually imagine that he shrugged when he said it.
I start to think about that though and she did say that I'd look hot in anything…
"Yeah, sure, Puckerman, thanks for the weird advice. Go be important or something," I laugh off his intuitive bro-dom and pick my hoodie up off of the sofa.
"I'm serious," he stays quiet for a moment, long enough for me to think he hung up, so I take the phone off my ear… nope, still there, "I really do have to go now. Have a good time, Santana and seriously keep me posted on everything. You know I'm routing for you."
"Thanks, Puck," it actually really gets to me that he said that, it's like, touching. I think in a way, Puck is that big brother that I never had and you know what, I'm actually going to say this to him, "I love you, bro."
"I love you, too, bro. Now go get her," and with that, he hangs up.
As I contemplate my jeans, white Converse and extra-small, dark gray Columbia hoodie combo, I find myself feeling really good about this afternoon.
~:~:~
Rach:
Change of plans! Sorry! Meet at the East Side 79th St entrance? 😬
If she didn't add that emoji in there I would be sooo annoyed right now. Oh, also, Rach started slipping out a little more often and I changed her contact name back to it a few days ago. Nbd.
Gonna be a little late then.
Her response comes in right before I turn around to cross the street.
Rach:
That's okay! See you guys soon!
I might have failed to mention that Puck isn't going to be joining us.
I have to take a bus that goes from the Museum of Natural History and through the park in order to get to the other side. It's not really a big deal, it's just that by now, I've already been on the Bx15 bus and the B train, because we were supposed to be meeting at the Museum of Natural History. Really, she's lucky she's so adorable.
It takes about ten minutes for the bus to get across the park after it finally arrives at the stop on 81st St. I spot Rachel before the bus stops. She's standing against the wall at the entrance with one foot on the ground and the other flat against the wall as she's reading something on her phone. She's wearing the cutest, most perfect fall outfit. She has on skinny jeans that she's rolled up just a little so that they aren't touching her bright blue Toms and on top of a v-neck t-shirt (one of what has to be a million but I'm not complaining because they look amazing on her) that matches the Toms perfectly, she's wearing a light brown cardigan that she's left unbuttoned. It's so adorable because in a way it's a combination of the "old Rachel" and the Rachel that I've been getting to know over the past few weeks.
I have to cross the street to get to her and before she can look up I call out, "Are Bow Tie and Porcelain running late, too?"
"No, actually," she says before looking up from her phone, then when she does, her furrowed brow over my terms of endearment turns into perplexity, "Where's Noah?"
"He called me like, an hour ago and told me he was called to a meeting and couldn't make it," I shrug sadly as I get to her, "He wanted me to tell everyone that he misses you guys, but I can't do that if there are missing parties," I laugh and look around as if Kurt and Blaine are going to be coming around the corner any second.
"Umm… actually…" she's scrunching up her face a little and I think I already know what's coming, "they texted me like, ten minutes ago and told me they were stuck downtown."
This just went from going to be awkward to I don't even know.
"Oh," is all I can say with all of my surprise. I know, how freaking eloquent is that? "Umm… so, what do you think we should do?" I am just so good at this… not at all.
"We could, umm… go to the Met," she throws her thumb back towards the museum, "there's this structure, exhibit, thing on the roof that we go to. I heard it's pretty cool."
I guess she's only just a little better at this than I am. At least she came up with something. And guess what? "I haven't been to the Met yet."
"Really?" her eyes grow wide and excited and I feel my heart do that melty thing. "Oh my god, San, now we have to go!" she starts walking and talking so fast, I can't help but laugh as I try to keep up, "Kurt dragged me here when there was this Alexander McQueen exhibit and as we were walking to it, I kept stopping and looking at everything and how beautiful everything is. I fell in love with it. Everything!"
"Everything, huh?" I laugh as we climb the stairs to the entrance.
"Yes! Oh and when we were here that first time, there was another exhibit, I think it was called New York City After Dark or something like that, but it had these different photos of people and things in the city taken during the night. There were pictures of people sleeping on the street and buildings that I had seen before, but they looked so different," she's so excited, but because we're inside and waiting in line, she's like, trying really hard to keep her voice down.
"Uh, Rach, how much is it to get in?" I ask trying to figure out what the sign says above the desk.
"Technically, you don't have to pay anything. Before I was getting paid I'd give five or ten bucks, now I give them the full twenty-five," she answers as she digs into her bag and produces her clasp wallet, "Don't worry though, I got it."
"Wait, you don't have to…"
"I want to! Come on, let me treat you to first experience at the Met. Please?" and then she pouts at me. Shut. The fuck. Up. I can't say no to that! I can't believe she's getting me on the first try with that.
"Fine," I answer reluctantly and she claps in excitement, "At least let me show them my Columbia ID to get the student discount, though."
"Because your hoodie isn't enough?" she chuckles as we move up one more in line. She leans into me a little and lowers her voice, "I was right, you do look hot in anything." I feel my cheeks burning and my heart pounding and I don't know what to say. Then before I know it, Rachel's hand is in mine and she's pulling towards the desk. "One regular and a student," she chuckles.
"Do you really go to Columbia?" he asks flatly and I snap out of my Rachel induced daze.
"Yeah," I answer and with my free hand I pull my ID case out of my back pocket to show him.
"Okay, thank you, Miss Berry," he says with a smile this time and hands us these orange button things with Ms on them.
"Can we also have tickets to the roof exhibit?" she asks with a smile.
"The earliest tickets I have are for four o'clock if that's okay?"
It's two o'clock now.
"That's perfect," she answers and takes the tickets from him.
"Umm… what do I do with this thing?" I ask staring at this weird button thing in my hand as we walk away. It's made out of like, tin or something and it's a circle, except that it has like, this antenna thing sticking out of it.
"Lemme see it," Rachel takes it from me and starts to put it near my face, "Hmm… it would be weird on your hood," then she looks down, "Oh, here," her hands go to the pocket in the front of my sweatshirt where she places the button face up on the edge of the opening, then folds the antenna part behind it so that it stays there on the pocket. As she did this, I could feel her knuckles brush against my abs... this hoodie is comfy, but it basically fits me like a glove.
Fighting through what that simple touch has done to me, "Oooohh, I see. It's kind of like a hand stamp only you get to keep it." I look up and watch as she clips hers to the neck of her shirt. I'm staring, I know I am and she's going to catch me. I hope she does.
"Come on," she says and I pull my eyes back up to her face. For the briefest second, I see her lip between her teeth and I know that she saw me. Good.
"Where to first?" I ask as I turn to start walking deeper into the museum.
"I don't know, let's just go," she shrugs and then swipes at the inside of my hand with her finger.
I look over at her and she quirks her eyebrow at me.
Was that a silent dare?
Or am I reading into things?
You know what? Fuck it. I'm holding her hand again and if that isn't what she wants she can let go. She's leading me to a set of stairs and just before we get there, I reach out my with my right hand and slide my fingers along her palm until our fingers are interlocked. I watch her look down at our hands then back up at me. She licks her lips then smiles before continuing the journey upwards.
She didn't let go.
~:~:~
We've wound up in the European Paintings section. It's cool. It has a lot of paintings by the famous artists that we've all heard about, but it's got a lot of other paintings from art periods that aren't so well known. I'll be honest, I don't know very much about art and I'm definitely not signing up for an Art History course anytime soon, but I definitely like being here with Rachel. The giddiness that she feels just by walking through all of these rooms is definitely rubbing off on me.
The best part about all of this is that we keep finding each other's hands. We'll let go every once in a while to look at something on our own, but not long after, one of us will come back and our hands will be connected again.
The feeling that I get when I'm holding her hand is interesting. Somehow, it both feels like we never stopped holding hands and that they'd once been ripped apart. Like, it feels so right and familiar, but at the same time I know that the last time this happened was a long time ago. It's similar to how everything with Rachel right now feels both old and new all at once.
Right now we're wandering through the Annenberg Collection. It takes up nine of the rooms… galleries, Rachel's corrected about six times already. I think these ones are my favorite. It has all of these paintings that I know I've seen before, but these are the real thing. There are Picassos and Monets and Van Goghs in these galleries.
"Is she wearing boots?" I whisper yell over to Rachel who is looking at the other Toulouse-Lautrec painting in this corner.
"Really?" she asks when she steps over to me. I feel her shoulder just under mine and I can see out of the corner of my eye that her arms are crossed, "You're looking at a painting of a naked woman and that's what you notice?"
"Nearly naked, she's wearing boots," I cross my own arms then bump her with my hip, then I turn my head to the side a little and say, "I guess she's also kind of a big booty bitch."
Rachel's arms unfold and shoot out in front of her. "Oh my god! I cannot stand near you," she scoffs at me and walks all the way across the gallery.
I cannot stop laughing and laugh all the way over to her, until I get about three feet from her. I have this instinct. My arms want to wrap themselves around Rachel's waist, but I know that's going too far. I feel like touching her in some way is actually appropriate for this moment though, I'm just not sure. I can't take her hand because her arms are crossed again. My eyes land on the small of her back and for some reason, I decide that's the perfect place to put my hand. I place my hand there lightly as I step next to her and I'm surprised when she moves closer to me. Then, my hand slides to her hip and she rests her head on my shoulder. I know that there's a really famous and beautiful painting in front of me, but there's an almost famous and even more beautiful girl in my arm and that's all that I can concentrate on.
"Excuse me," I hear a woman's voice very close by and then feel Rachel's head leave my shoulder, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to tell you that I went to the Funny Girl opening last night and you were just magnificent," this woman is probably in her sixties and she's wearing this huge gold necklace and has a thick Brooklyn accent. I can't see Rachel's face, but I bet she's blushing so hard and that she is the cutest fucking thing right now, "I can't believe that you're only nineteen years old with that voice. You know," now she's talking to me, "Your friend has one of the most amazing voices I've ever heard in person and I've been to Barbara."
I don't think Rachel can speak right now, so I'll try my best at this, "Ma'am, I think you might have just paid her the best compliment she's ever received."
Rachel nods and quietly says, "Thank you."
"Oh you are very welcome dear and I meant every word. Have wonderful afternoon ladies," she waves her hand at us and walks back over to her husband who is waiting patiently over by the Cézanne paintings. I rub my hand across Rachel's shoulder and she starts to turn back to me, as she does, I hear the woman say to her husband, "They're a cute little couple don't you think, Saul?"
I am frozen solid.
"How do you know they were together, Shirley?" he asks her with just as thick of a Brooklyn accent as hers.
"I saw how the taller one was looking at the Broadway girl…"
They're too far away for me to hear anymore.
I'm not really sure what I'm more worried about right now, someone thinking that we're a couple for our sake or someone thinking that we're a couple for just Rachel's sake. Not that I think Shirley and Saul of Brooklyn are going to contact with this information, but I have a feeling Shirley likes to talk to a lot of people.
"Uh, Rach?"
"Did you hear what she said?" her facial expression is kind of hard to read right now.
"Yeah, I did and-"
"She said I was one of the best she's ever heard and compared me Barbara… the original Fanny Brice… besides the real one of course…"
Did she not hear them as they were walking away?
"So you didn't hear them when they were over there?" my eyes go back over to Cézanne painting where they were walking.
"About us being a cute couple?"
"Yes."
Did my voice just crack?
"I'm out," she shrugs, "Well, I haven't officially said it, but if something comes up, I'm not going to deny who I am. Besides, Broadway is different than Hollywood. I mean, there are some gossip blogs and stuff, but it's nothing like the tabloids. I don't foresee getting hounded by the press about my sexuality or who I'm seeing and neither does my manager."
"Oh," I answer because I feel like she isn't seeing this the same way that I am. Like, it isn't a big deal that someone thinks that we're a couple… for our sake. It must be because we aren't.
"Let's go to another gallery and sit down for a little bit, we still have some time to kill," Rachel takes my hand and leads me through a larger gallery than the one we were just in and to another one labeled "Post-Impressionism." Instead of going around and looking at all of the paintings, we go directly to a bench and sit down. When Rachel sits down, she keeps hold of my hand.
I recognize one of the paintings we're facing. If I'm not mistaken, it's the one that Sondheim musical Sunday in the Park with George is inspired by. I might not have liked it when Rachel made me listen it to it, but I still remember the details. I always cared when she cared.
"Study for 'A Sunday on La Grande Jatte,'" she sighs.
"I was just thinking about that one," I say, turning to her a little, "Sunday in the Park with George, right?"
"You hated that one," she laughs a little, "and all of the Sondheims for that matter."
"Not true!" I take my hand back just so that I can point at her, "I liked that fairy tale one… uh… Into the Woods. That one's good."
"Right," she smiles and faces back out towards the paintings, placing her hand on the bench between us.
I do the same exact thing except I let my pinky land on top of hers. I know we've been holding hands pretty much all afternoon, but something about this is just… I don't even know… exciting.
We sit there like that for a few minutes in the quiet and with just our pinkies touching. In the quiet I realize that's the first time we've talked about something from when we were together. Of course it's like, the most pointless thing, but it's something and now I'm nervous. I know that we need to talk about it, but I'm not ready for that. I'm not ready to bring what happened into what's happening now.
"San?" Rachel softly calls my attention with the nickname I love hearing in her voice.
"Mhm?" I keep my eyes forward because I can see out of my peripheral that she has as well.
"Is this a date?" she turns her head as she asks and I can hear her voice shake just the slightest bit.
I breathe out a laugh because I think I'm so clever, "I don't know, Rach, you paid."
She snorts out her own laugh, "I did, didn't I?"
"I might have saved you thirteen bucks with my student discount, but you still paid for me, so, I guess I should be asking you if this is a date?" I don't think I realize what I'm asking until it's already out there. And once it is, I am hoping so hard that this is.
"I…" she bites down on her lip nervously, "I'd like it to be."
I let go of the breath I'm holding and smile, "Me too."
There might be other people in this gallery, it has some pretty famous artwork, but if there are, I have no idea. Right now, the only other person in here with me is Rachel. She is literally all that I can see; she's all that I want to see. Our hands have turned so that our fingers are interlocked and our bodies have turned enough so that we're facing each other. I just can't take my eyes off her and hers aren't leaving me either.
"Rachel?" I whisper because I don't think I can actually speak.
"Yes?"
"Can I kiss you?" I don't know why I felt the need to ask, but my heart is racing as I wait for her answer.
Her eyes move down my face to my lips and she nods.
It takes a second for me to realize what should be happening and when I do, I have to stop myself from surging forward. Instead, I take it slow. I look at every inch of her face right before I close the few inches between us and when my lips touch hers, it feels like my body is finally awake. It's such a simple kiss, but every nerve in my body feels it. Her lips shift against mine and for some reason I can't stop this smile. Then she smiles and we're laughing softly with our noses rubbing against each other.
"Santana?"
"Yes?" I'm still laughing a little.
"Next time, you don't have to ask."
I think I'll take her up on that immediately.
A/N: So I kinda sorta forgot that I was going to update... super sorry. Here it is though! Hope you're all liking it!
