Valentine's Day
(Santana)
I don't know why I was going to get out of bed on Valentine's Day. Was the most pathetic day of the year that everything was rosy. Imagine a city like New York rosy? It was ridiculous, depressing, indecent. Even worse when you know what's going on in the other bedroom of the house: my sister, the one with a great imagination, was planning most perfect way to celebrate the occasion with some photographer and former cheerio blond. I closed my eyes. Hell, I need to buy better curtains to my room. The one I had doesn't properly block the sunlight. I covered my head with the blanket and closed my eyes trying to sleep again. I almost cried when I heard the knocking on my bedroom door.
"What?" I screamed.
"You promised you would help me to buy Quinn's gift."
"Right now? It's..." I spied my cell's monitor. It was nearly ten o'clock.
"Nine and forty-eight in the morning to be exact." Rachel shouted from the door, than, she lost her temper and opened the door. "Santana, are you okay?"
"I'm okay." I answered kicking my blanket to the side before Rachel decided I was sick and put a thermometer under my arm. "I can't have a lazy day in this house!" I complained.
"Sorry." Rachel looked puzzled, but at all at the same time. "Do you know what? I must go to the theater around five and there is still so much to do. I need to optimize my time and you promised you would help me."
I took my blanket and covered my head again to scream under it. And Rachel wondered why I got nervous gastritis. Seriously? She was 50% responsible only taking me off or toasting my patience on a regular basis. God, I should have spent more time traveling around last year just to rest my mind from Rachel Berry-Lopez.
"The coffee is still warm." She turned and left my room. I could feel that she was mad at me because she thought I would break my promise. Tempting, I couldn't deny.
I got up and I was dragging my feet to the bathroom. Only after throwing fresh water on my face and brushing teeth is that I set out to establish a civilized dialogue. I wasn't that hungry and I could just skip the breakfast, but my sister wouldn't allow me. She made me drink some juice and eat a piece of bread while she was sweeping the house.
"Imagine if the gossip websites post a story about the glamour of certain actresses in the home environment and show Angelina Jolie with a broom in hand like you are now."
"I'm sure Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have enough money to pay three or four maids." She said still working. "I, on the other hand, don't need one. Specially because I have a sister that helps me a lot with the cleaning. Oh, my mistake… the only thing you really do well is put the dishes in the dishwasher."
"Now, you're offending me. This is not true and it's not fair. I do help you with the cleaning. I just don't do it when you order me to. That's the difference."
"That's your thing, right? Not taking orders from anyone."
"Why are you being so passive-aggressive?"
"Nada. Maybe it was your willingly statement as scream under the blanket because I asked you a favor!"
I felt like scream again. Instead, I swallowed the rest of the breakfast and started to clean the kitchen. What was the plan? Ah yes: clean the house in the morning, lunch out, buy such a gift and then she would prepare for such a special Valentine's Day she was planning. Something like dinner with Quinn after the play – Rachel booked a table for two in an expensive French restaurant –, and then have monkey sex maybe with some toys. Unfortunately, I didn't plan anything, which meant me staying quietly confined in my room on Valentine's Day, with my headphones on, studying to Columbia's classes. Depressing.
Rachel relaxed her features when she saw me helping her. Then, I caught the cleaners and clean our bathrooms. When I finished, she was putting our clothes in the washing machine. I didn't know why Rachel made so much drama because I awake a little later since we finished up in time for lunch. She was still silent when we entered the small, cheap and cozy restaurant near our home. The place served simple food to the pound, but the difference is that they used organic ingredients that pleased Rachel. I didn't care about organic food. Truth be told, I only care about being environmentally friendly when businesses ask for it. Simple like that.
"What will you buy for Quinn?" I asked.
"I thought of a gem, but I think this type of gift is most suitable for special occasions such as anniversary. What do you think of perfume? Quinn likes to use more masculine citrus fragrance."
"Perfume is good! But Quinn mentioned once that she needed some accessories for her camera, but she was broke as always. Maybe if you buy her a gift card and a box of chocolates would also be good, romantic and useful."
"Yeah, it could work, although I not sure if Quinn would be offended. Even more because these kind of accessories are expensive."
"I don't think so." I picked up my phone and accessed the internet. "How much you're willing to spend? $100? $200? Well, she won't buy a lens at this price, but she can buy a lot of small things for her camera she may need. We can do this right now and send the card for purchases to Quinn's address."
"When did you become so pragmatic to shop? And what is the fun to buy a gift on internet when we have Manhattan and window shopping? Where is that Santana Berry-Lopez who used to spend hours walking in Lima's mall in search of the perfect dress?"
"I still love window shopping for clothes. I just don't have as much time available. Not even you."
"But, today, we have some time. Let's go!"
After lunch, we decided to walk in Midtown. I left my car in a paid parking and walked to the 5th Avenue. The shops were reasonably filled with people doing last minute shopping for their significant others and Rachel's eyes were filled in the windows. The perfume idea went to space as soon as my sister considered sunglasses and a new phone a better idea. She ended up buying some clothes for herself, I won some too (I love when my sister open her wallet), and Quinn would have new phone because hers was rubbish. Not a romantic gift, but hey, that wasn't a terrible one either.
"Are we done?" I asked.
"We still have a place that I must go."
We walked into the nearest Victoria's Secret and Rachel chose a provocative set of red lingerie. I was amazed that my 29 minutes younger sister could be sexy when she wanted. Quinn is a lucky girl.
"I need you to do me a favor, Santy." She said as we walked back to the parking lot where my car had left. "I need you to wash it for me and put in a hanger in my closet. Could you do it?"
"This is so humiliating! Washing lingerie so you can seduce and have monkey sex with that blonde."
"Please. I would do the same for you, if you were in the same situation. Actually, if you buy one of these to impress someone like Johnny, I totally would do the favor for you."
"Johnny..." I muttered.
"You should talk to him, you know? Talking seriously this time, leaving no room for two interpretations and without outbreaks. I think it's time for you two to have a real conversation about your relationship."
"There's no relationship, Ray."
"Because you're afraid of having one. And all the sexual tension between you two is making me mad."
"When you and Quinn started dating... who initiated it?" I was curious. "Like… it's not easy to talk these things with a close friend, unless this friend is Brittany who doesn't follow any reasonable rule."
"Point one: Quinn and I were never close friends. We were more like mates from Glee Club." This was true: I was more a friend to Quinn than Rachel ever was. "But everything kind of changed when we wrote 'Get it Right' together... after that, she subtly seduced me when I still was with Finn. Anyway, point two: when we started dating for real, right here in New York, it was something almost inevitable and I didn't bother to fight against this feeling."
"Subtly seduced you?" I laughed. "That's so Quinn Fabray: corner the prey before pouncing."
"Quinn has her moments, but she's not always like that."
"Don't get me wrong, I like Quinn, but she is a manipulator when it suits her!" How she formed our alliance in our freshman year of high school, the many times I had to bargain with her including things in Rachel's favor. Quinn could be my sister's longtime girlfriend and I even considered her as part of the family, but I would never trust her completely. Not really. And Rachel knew that.
"Quinn is not the issue here." She scolded. "The problem is you and Johnny not staying together. What I think is that if you don't resolve soon this situation, I swear I'll tie you two in a tiny room and you will only be able to leave after talk."
"Much like papi did to us that time in Lima?" I smiled at the memory.
"Pretty much."
"And why do you want see me in a relationship?"
"You spent a year alone, with only minor affairs, and that's not right or is doing any favor to you. Moreover, it's passing the time to you exorcise Brittany's ghost allow yourself to be happy with someone who really cares about you. I know Johnny is the right person. You know Johnny is the right person or you wouldn't get so jealous when he got that girlfriend. Is this too much to ask?"
We stood standing there in near the parking lot: Truth be told, I was impressed with my sister's logic. The tragedy and the irony was that she was right about some stuffs. Me not talking with Johnny about our relationship was because I was scared.
"Rachel Berry?" Someone called. We looked back and saw a chubby redhead girl looking at us with a huge smile. "Oh you are Rachel Berry. Oh, this is so cool. I saw your play yesterday: you were divine at the stage, and I don't miss an episode of 'Slings and Arrows'. Kate is one of my favorites. Could I take a selfie with you? And could you give me an autograph?" Wow, and I thought no one in this world could talk faster than Rachel when she raced to speak.
"Sure! Will be a pleasure..."
"Carol. My name is Carol!" The fan was thrilled even. It was funny.
The fan took two photos with my sister and Rachel autographed her iPad case.
"I don't want to be inconvenient, but are you her sister?" The girl asked me and I just nodded yes. "This is so cool. The people at the community sometimes comments on you because of an old interview Rachel's did. Is it true that you guys still live together?"
"It's true..." Rachel held my hand. "It was a pleasure to Carol, but we have to go now."
"Could we take a photo with your sister? It would be nice..."
I wanted to give one of my Lima Highs answer to this little girl, but Rachel just put her arm around my waist and stayed in the middle between me and her fan. The girl took the photo, thanked us and we could finally be on our way. I bet in half a minute the picture would be on her Instagram, or something.
"Community?" I asked.
"I've seen some. The most famous one has a space to discuss the private lives of the actors and their ships. You know that most people are convinced that the Rom and I have a secret affair. And they CSI photos and Twitter to prove that. It's amazing."
"Then I think I'll troll around there."
"And by chance do you have time to troll now that you're back to college?"
"Well..." I tried to find an argument. "Not really."
"Thank God! What a nightmare Santana Berry-Lopez trolling about my life for a bunch of fans."
I drove Rachel to the theater and headed for home. I did that favor for my sister and put her new lingerie at the dryer among our other clothes. I organized everything and finish cleaning our home. Then hit a melancholy. What would I do here alone locked in my room on Valentine's Day? It sure I would mull the fact my sister was having fun in her room along with Quinn and I was there without get laid for months. Actually, I was living an affair with my dildo.
This gave me an anguish and a courage I haven't felt in ages. I took a quick shower and drove to New Jersey risking of not find him at home or came across something that wouldn't please me, but what I have to lose? I stopped in front of that horrible building where stood the studio Johnny rented year ago. I pressed the intercom.
"Johnny Boy. It's me."
"San?" He sounded confused.
"Can you open?"
I hear the crack of the door and went upstairs. I met him at his door. He looked surprised on seeing and looked like he was not expecting anyone to judge by his unkempt hair and unshaven face. Johnny was kind of isolated in favor to finish a book he was writing or something. Well, I wasn't interested in his literary work. Rachel was right about one thing: we need to clarify certain points.
"What a surprise!" He let me in on that little trashed apartment.
Johnny was a clean guy, but that place really wasn't very good. The bed was full papers and books, his computer was on a plastic table and I was sure he found his chair in some corner. There was a box of pizza in half over the sink and a bottle of coca-cola beside the computer. At least it was nice to know he didn't like to get drunk or stoned to produce as many of the writers.
"Sorry for the mess." He run to collect the papers and books on his bed and offered the computer chair for me to sit.
"No problem. I should have warned you." I sit in the chair and Johnny continued his shameful and sudden housecleaning mode.
"Can I offer you anything? Pizza?" He was embarrassed, I could tell. "I bought it today for lunch, so it's still good. I have no beer, but I have some cans of coke and sprike... I mean... you're not in a gastritis crisis, right?"
I let out a laugh. The obsessive mania of my sister on regarding my health seems that infected all our friends.
"Sprite is cool."
Johnny opened that pseudo-fridge and took out a can and passed it to me.
"Pizza?" He continued standing with anguished way.
"I'm not hungry, thanks."
"I have some chocolate here."
"What's up with all the sugar?"
"It helps to write. Do you wanna some?"
"Johnny!" I warned. "Sit down a moment. I am fine. I just came here to talk, ok? I don't care with your mess." That's when he sat down on the edge of his bed. "Unless I've gotten into a really bad moment or you're waiting someone else…"
"It's not that, San. I have no plans for today. You just caught me off guard and nothing more."
"None plans. Not even with that girl you are dating?"
"Elaine? No, no." He shook his head for emphasis. "We've never actually date, and we're not seeing each other anymore."
"Why? She seemed to be a nice girl."
"She was. Well, she is a she deserved someone nice who was 100% into her. It wasn't my place. I..." He looked at me. "I seem to be tied. I like this girl, I think she likes me back, but our situation is just confusing."
"Really?" I took sip of my soda.
"Do you want to talk about that?"
"The truth?" He nodded and I hesitated to continue. I took a deep breath and tried to relax on that uncomfortable chair. How could he write a book sitting on that? "I also can't think straight since I kissed a nice guy, but I panicked. I tried to be just friends with him, but it's not working."
"Really?" It was my time to nod. "I'm your friend, San. You can say me anything you want. No commitments or judgments."
I wanted to laugh. I really wanted it. Only my Johnny boy to cross his legs and get in 'best friend' mode on a subject that was about us. It also made me relax and enjoy the first chance we had at a quiet place to talk about. I took another sip of soda.
"I panicked because for many years I was emotionally attached to a beautiful girl who lives in Los Angeles. Well, you met Brittany, that blonde girl with amazing blue eyes, 1.73 m of a perfect body. But she's not all for me. She never was. She is my best friend for a life, you know? And Britt was my first love. The first person I was in love. We were planning to be together here in New York, but she got pregnant and chose to try a married life with the father of her kid instead of staying with me. Brittany was rational, but the fact is that I never thought I would get over it and fill the hole she left. Actually, maybe I didn't want to get over her and be healed because I put on an altar, and sometimes I think I deserve to suffer for a number of things I've done in the past. For being mean with so many people, a bully to my own sister and half of the school, for having hurt my father. Anyway, things that it's not necessarily related, but that mix in my head... it's just terrible."
"That makes no sense, San. You don't deserve to suffer these things and not for others beyond your control and will."
"I try to tell that to myself. My sister tells it a lot. But the fact is that I have been suffering quietly for Brittany until I began to feel a crazy attraction to this friend. He's one of my best friends to tell the truth. And when we kissed, he made me feel the happiness I found only Britt was able to provide. I realized that this friend could fill the hole and I panicked because I didn't know if I was prepared to overcome it." I tried to restrain myself to keep my voice as controlled as possible. "I'm afraid that I will hurt him bad and hurt myself again in the process."
"That's so funny."
"Why?"
"Because I feel something similar. I mean, I've never had a love like you had for Brittany. Of course I had some girlfriends that I enjoyed more than others, but being in love? Not like that. One day, I met this girl in an unusual way and I was impressed at how much she was beautiful and feisty. But she was too young at that time and I wouldn't do any move on her. Over time, this girl just grew on me and became my best friend. I told her things I kept to myself for years, I envy her boyfriends in silence, but I tried to stay in my place because her friendship is too valuable. One day I realized I was in love for real for the first time. I thought I would die of frustration, so she broke up with a longtime boyfriend. A nice guy, I must say. I thought to myself that maybe it was my chance. Then we kissed and it was magical. It was everything I thought it would be, only much better. So, as a surreal scene, she immediately said a portion of barbarities which had the same effect as a kick in the balls. I was puzzled not knowing what I had done wrong for her want to hurt me like that. I thought maybe I don't deserve her after all. She was too good to be spoiled with someone like me. You deserve the world, Santana Berry-Lopez." Johnny was sad and I was about to join him in the depressing game. Instead, I kissed him.
My heart raced and it seems that every sad thought had vanished, as if my being had been concentrated in the nice feeling on my lips. And when I pulled away, he was still with his eyes closed. I wanted to kiss him right away and so I did. This time I sat beside him, so our bodies would be closer. I felt his hands timidly stroking my face and the other gong down to my waist. I open my lips and felt his warm tongue invading my mouth, but timidly, without haste, without wanting suck my soul. Johnny was a great kisser and the feeling was incredible.
"What are you doing to me, San?" He held my hand to his chest. I felt his heart racing.
"I don't know, Johnny boy. But whatever it is, I think it's worth the risk."
"I would go to hell with you, San. God have mercy on me for that."
We kissed again. I dind't know what I had done to deserve this person who I had fallen in love and which corresponded my feelings. It was too good for my heart that was getting used to being lonely.
Johnny and I talked and ate that pizza. It was good to get my friend back to talk trivial and important things. We talk about stupidities, family, the football game, and even about our relationship. It was wonderful. No sex was involved: just talk and laugh and some kisses.
I went back home in the end of the night and I was in heaven. It was something that I used to only feel with Brittany and honestly I thought it wouldn't happen to anyone else. When I got home, I didn't even bother with the noises coming from my sister's bedroom. Incidentally, she was making good use of her new lingerie. I just went to my room. There, I no longer listened to the unpleasant noises once I closed the door. I changed my clothes and sleep like a baby.
When I woke up the next day, it was almost ten o'clock again. It was strange get up that late and not have my sister knocking on my door to see if she was still alive. I got up, dragged myself to the bathroom as usual, and when I left my room, I found Rachel bathrobe sitting on Quinn's lap as she put a strawberry in her girlfriend's mouth. Normally, I would have commented something nefarious about it, but I was too happy and light up to be cynical.
"Morning." I decided to fry an egg.
"Good morning, Santy. I thought you had gone to a party and slept outside yesterday." Quinn did something that my sister laughed at her lap. I wasn't paying attention to them.
"I did something much better than going to a party."
Rachel looked at me curiously, but still remained in Quinn's lap.
"O quê?" – só por maldade, deixei tudo no ar. Sabia que Rachel ia se roer por dentro em curiosidade e isso seria divertido – "O quê?" – ela repetiu.
Terminei de fritar o ovo e sentei à mesa em frente as meninas. Desfrutei minha refeição matinal com um suco de laranja que elas tinham preparado. Rachel ainda estava com cara de que ia explodir se eu não falasse. Tive vontade de gargalhar. Foi quando o meu celular tocou. Corri até o meu quarto e sorri quando vi a foto na tela.
"Ei Johnny Boy..."
"Ei San, estava pensando aqui... eu sei que é meio careta, mas será que você gostaria de comemorar o Valentine's Day?"
Era bom voltar a me sentir como uma adolescente boba outra vez. Era gostoso ver a cidade rosada àquela época do ano e tudo fazer sentido.
"What?" Just for spite, I left everything in the air. I knew Rachel was going nuts in curiosity and it would be fun. "What?" She said again.
I finished frying the egg and sat at the table in front of the girls, enjoying my morning meal with an orange juice they had prepared. Rachel looked like she was going to explode if I didn't speak. I wanted to laugh hard this time. That's when my phone rang. I ran to my room and smiled when I saw the picture on the screen.
"Hey Johnny Boy..."
"Hey San, I was thinking here... I know it's kinda late, but do you like to celebrate Valentine's Day with me today… as a date?"
It was nice to feel like a silly teenager again. It was nice to see the city so rosy at this time of year and everything made sense.