Thank you for all the reviews. I really appreciate it. :)
If anyone's interested, I got most of this piece from Judy Blume's novel. The two main characters there never really had a romantic relationship, but it's a pretty good book, anyway. I promise this would be a romantic Quinntana fic, though.
Anyway, on with the story.
"But how is it possible in this day and age that you've never seen the ocean?"
"How is it possible, in this day and age, that I've never seen the ocean?"
My mother, who's bathing my youngest brother, Kevin, looks at me as if I'm nuts when I asked her this. Kevin had muscular dystrophy. His body's small and misshapen. We have a contraption that allows him to sit in the bathtub but he couldn't be left alone. He's seven, sassy and smart, a lot smarter than our other brother, Noah, who's nine, or our sister, Mercedes, who's ten.
"What kind of question is that?" my mom says. "We live in New Mexico. Hundreds of miles from one ocean and thousands from the other."
"I know, but so do plenty of other people and they've been to the ocean." I know damn well why we've never been to either coast. Still, I stay sitting on the closed toilet seat with my arms folded defiantly across my chest as I watch Kevin sailing his boat around the tub, stirring up waves with his arms.
"This is my ocean," he says. His speech's garbled, making it difficult for some people to understand him, but not me.
"Besides, you've been to Tulsa," my mom adds, as if that has anything to do with what we're talking about.
Yes, I've been to Tulsa, but only once, when my grandmother, a grandmother I'd never known I've had until then, lay dying. "Are these all yours?" she'd asked my mom when she saw us. "Well, Tina, I can see you've been busy." And that was it. Tina didn't even cry when my grandma died the next day.
I couldn't sit still. I've never wanted anything so badly in my life. And I'm determined. One way or another, I was going away with Quinn Fabray.
"Stop squirming," mom says, tossing me a towel. "Get Kevin dried and ready for supper. I've got to help Noah with his homework."
"So, can I go?" I call as mom leaves the bathroom and heads down the hall.
"Your father and I will discuss it, Santana," she calls back. I pout; it wasn't a done deal.
I've been to Quinn's house, an old walled-in place on the Camino, just once, in March, when Quinn had invited the whole class to her fourteenth birthday party. They'd had live music and a pizza wagon with a dozen different toppings. Quinn's mother, Brittany, dressed in faux Indian clothes—long skirt, western boots, ropes of turquoise around her neck. Her blonde hair hung back in one glossy braid. Some of Brit's friends were there, too, including her boyfriend of the moment, a guy with a Mohawk, a concha belt, and hand-tooled leather boots. I've never been to a party like that.
I've brought Quinn a blank book for her birthday, covered in blue denim, with a silver chain as a page marker. I only hoped it was worthy of Quinn's thoughts and feelings. I dreamed about touching her perfect, blonde hair, her pale, flawless skin.
I write my parents a letter, making a case for letting me go, not the least being Quinn's promise that it would not cost me a penny.
But mom doesn't buy it. She claims Quinn comes from an unstable family. "Just one look at that mother…"
"But we won't be with her mother," I counter, "we'll be with her father and he's very stable."
"How do you know?"
"Everybody knows. He's going to call you. You can ask him yourself."
In the end, it was my father who convinced mom to let me go. My father, who looked surprised when he opened the front door to find he had four noisy children inside. A man of so few words he can spend a whole weekend without speaking, but if he does, his voice drops way low on the last part of every sentence someone always asks, "What? What'd you say, Dad?" But he was never unkind.
I imagine jumping into his arms, hugging him as hard as I could to show him how thankful I am, but that would have embarrassed both of us so I say, "Thanks, Dad." And he mumbles something I didn't get, while he rests his hand on top of my head.
Sorry for the short chapters. I'm currently busy with my summer classes right now, but I promise more and longer updates from the first weekend of May. :)