Chapter 4

It was the 24th of December and everything felt a little surreal. Carmen had dressed Marco and Richie up as little elves – or at least that's what they looked like to me in their matching green jumpers and dark red tights, uncle Julio kept whistling Christmas Carols – frighteningly out of tune I might add, my dad strode from room to room asking if anyone had seen his lucky Christmas eggnog cup and my mum pretended like I had never come out at all.

"Santana, darling, could you please remind your father that he still has to get the star for the top of the Christmas tree out of the garage?" my mum was asking me, as she walked passed me on her way into the living room to set the table for the big dinner.

My abuela was going to be here any minute and I had just finished shoveling the path to our house free of snow so she could walk safely up to the front door, and was in the middle of making myself some tea to warm up my frozen limbs.

"Kay." I mumbled and ducked back into the hall, leaving my tea on the kitchen counter to brew.

Whenever my mum had spoken to me today I had felt a little on edge, not knowing what to expect and then, when it was only a harmless question or comment, not having a clue how to respond. I felt weird around her and wary. Apparently for her our conversation about my sexuality was over. I was not gay and that was it. But for me it was like being in the middle of a concert, when the orchestra plays an unresolved cadence and then…just stops. It was unfinished, it felt wrong, and my body and mind remained restless and stressed in my mum's presence.

I walked down the dark hall and took a right towards my dad's office where I had seen him vanish to last. Three light knocks announced me and after he called me inside, I opened the door.

I loved my dad's study. It was quite dark and isolated, with only one window, which, by this time, showed only blackness outside. All the walls were covered in book shelves, which reached up to the ceiling and were filled with innumerable books of all sizes and contents.

The room was quite rectangular with me dad's desk facing away from the window on the left and a standing whiteboard in the middle of the right half of the study where he would ponder medical problems he hadn't been able to figure out at work. An old chandelier and dark, ornate wall paper gave it almost a Victorian feeling. The atmosphere in here was always calm and wise and quiet, and hadn't it been for the phone set on my dad's desk one might have thought to have travelled back in time.

Sitting in his chair behind the mahogany desk he had inherited from his great grandfather, my dad looked up from some patient notes as I came in. He and my mum both had gotten two days off work over Christmas, but being a doctor was truly who he was and he never completely forgot about his duty to his patients. "Mum said to remind you to get the Christmas tree star out of the garage." I repeated my mum's request and leaned against the edge of the shelf nearest to the door, crossing my arms underneath my breasts.

"Ah." He put his reading glasses down and leaned back in his chair. "Thank you, I'll do that in just a moment." I nodded. I didn't exactly know why I didn't just walk back out now that my task had been done, but somehow I felt safer in here. Away from all the hectic and the Christmas spirit and my mum, who made everything feel so wrong.

"It seems she adapted quicker than we thought." My dad said into the quiet, eyeing me over the distance.

I hummed non-committed. That wasn't quite true, but obviously something had changed, and I wasn't about to burst his bubble by telling him she was just basically pretending nothing had ever happened.

"Did you have another talk with her?" he asked, his eyes narrowing at my uncharacteristic silence. I hesitated. If I told him about yesterday night, I'd have to tell him everything and that was precisely what I didn't want. Especially on Christmas Eve. My bad timing for telling them and my mum's unfortunately disapproving reaction shouldn't be the reason that everyone had a bad Christmas. She was at least behaving social and polite again, and I didn't want to destroy that.

"Santana?" he leaned slightly forward and placed his hands, which had been leisurely draped over the armrests, in his lap, folding them.

"She came into my room yesterday. We talked. It's okay now." I said, hoping my voice didn't betray the lie. My dad regarded me slowly, taking his time as he tried to read my expression, which was thankfully half hidden by the shady light as only his desk lamp illuminated the room.

"What did she say to you?" he asked calmly, pulling himself and the chair closer to the table and placing his folded arms on the mat in the middle as he continued to scrutinize me. I shifted slightly uncomfortable, pushing away from the shelf until I stood upright again, and looked down to my feet, biting my inner cheek.

"Nothing much. Just that she'll always love me and stuff." I said too quietly. My dad would know something else was going on from the shy front he was getting to see from me. But before I had time to correct my mistake, he had already caught me.

"That's not all she said." It wasn't a question. "What else did she say, Santana?" I heard his accent stronger than usual, a sign that he was holding back his temper or calming down a strong emotion. I imagined that people who didn't know him very well could feel intimidated by him when he was like this. Stone faced and eerily calm in his naturally authoritarian way. But I knew him and I knew that his head was reeling with the possible scenes that had happened and the possible solutions he could present to make it all better for everyone. Because that was just the kind of guy my dad was. He always tried to fix people.

"She…" Finally I relented and my shoulders dropped. "She basically told me that I couldn't see Brittany anymore and that she'd help me through this 'confusing' time." I grimaced at her choice of words. Suddenly 'confused' had moved onto the list of words and phrases I considered offensive. Right next to 'stupid' and 'slut' which Brittany had both been called a lot. Although 'slut' was clearly a rather obvious choice for the bad word list.

My dad hummed, a frown line appearing on his forehead. "What else?" Suddenly he seemed very alert and eyed me intently. I could basically hear his brain working as he was quickly processing what had happened when he hadn't been looking, even though he was still as quiet and unmoving as if carved from marble.

I shrugged, still gnawing on my inner cheek. Suddenly his study seemed smaller to me. Cramped, almost too narrow to breathe.

I shook my head slightly, ridding myself of the claustrophobic pressure threatening to crush my lungs, and answered.

"Nothing really, just…" I tried to remember the conversation clearly in my mind, but I had been so tired and shocked then, that I couldn't recall everything perfectly. "Just that it would be what's best and that…that I was only seventeen and that she couldn't let me make this mistake." I recounted her words as best as I could. "Look, it doesn't really matter. It's good actually. I mean, I already knew she wasn't a fan of the idea of Brittany and me, but now she at least said that she still loves me."

"Of course she does." My dad murmured automatically and almost impatiently it seemed. He looked as if he was deep in thought, his thick brows drawn together on the bridge of his nose and his forehead still in wrinkles.

"Dad, let's just not do anything about it right now, okay? I'm okay and I really just want a quiet Christmas without a huge family fight." I said exasperatedly. My dad nodded absentmindedly and hummed again.

"Dad."

"Hm? Si, cariño?" he blinked and looked at me as if he had forgotten I was there.

"You won't talk to her about this until we get this Christmas behind us, right?" I raised my eyebrows at him in warning. He smiled sweetly at me.

"Ay, Santana, I cannot make that promise, but I can assure you that I don't intend to upset your mother." He gave me a small wink. "Only a fool would." I sighed and rolled my eyes.

That was probably the best I would get from him, and if I was being completely honest, I actually half hoped he'd talk to her and make her understand. So that then I would finally have my mum back, and I could show her how great Brittany was.

Because that was something I had always hated. When people just didn't get how amazing Brittany was, how amazing and smart. I just wanted them to see her like I did. For obvious reasons, that was even more important now, and a big part of why it was so painful to have my mum reject my relationship with Brittany like this, was because it meant that I couldn't show her, that she couldn't see, how very special Brittany was. And how could that be? That someone who loved me, someone who I loved as well, didn't see what I held dearest in my heart.

„Hey, S! Merry Christmas!"

„Hi! Thanks, Q. Merry Christmas to you, too!" I smiled, pinching the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I laid out another potential outfit for church on my bed.

"So? How's everything going? About to go to church, too?"

"Yep. Is your grandpa dragging you with him?" I asked with a smirk, knowing the answer, as I took the phone in my left hand again and walked over to my vanity to look for a nice necklace to go with either of the three combinations of clothes I had yet to choose from.

"As always." She gave back in an exasperated voice, but I knew it was just show. Quinn wasn't as religious as she used to pretend to be in school, what with that chastity club and all, but she still went to church quite a lot with her grandpa. Lloyd Thompson, Quinn's mum's dad, was in many ways like my aunt Carmen. He had his own take on religion and wasn't too conservative, but still loved going to church, although he often smirked during mass which I always interpreted as his way of discreetly shaking his head at some opinions the church voiced.

Quinn had an extremely close relationship with her grandpa because he had always been the one to tell her that she was more than just the 'Fabrays' little girl'. That she was beautiful and talented and kind hearted and when she had gotten pregnant he had been the only one from her family who had stood behind her.

Unfortunately Russel, Quinn's ignorant and verbally abusive pig of a father, didn't like his father-in-law very much and had forbidden Quinn to see her grandpa unless it was unavoidable like at Christmas, after a falling out the two men had had when Quinn and I were still in elementary school.

So Quinn went to church. Sometimes to meet her grandpa there and spend even just a little bit of time with him, and sometimes just to flee from her life for a bit and sit in a bench, listening to the pastor recite the old-familiar stories and imagining her grandpa's chuckling whispers in her ear.

I knew all that about Quinn, because I had seen her struggle when her dad had first told her she couldn't see her grandpa anymore, and because she and I used to moan about church and we still did, but even now that no one was making her go, she usually went there anyway. I knew all that about Quinn, because I knew her. She was my best friend, after Brittany of course, and sometimes I knew what she was thinking and sometimes I knew what she was about to do even before she did. I knew her and she knew me and if I were a little better at expressing my feelings, I would have already told her how much that meant to me, how happy it made me. But I wasn't so whatever.

She'd just have to figure out how much our friendship meant to me on her own, that's not too much to ask, right? Anyway, I also kinda showed it sometimes, like when I did stuff for her that I wouldn't do for just anybody. Like spend a lot of Sundays during middle school sitting in an uncomfortable church bench and trying not to roll my eyes too often. Of course I wouldn't let her drag me there all the time though, but I'd at least still had the decency to feel a little bad about it, whenever she went on her own.

Tonight she didn't have to go alone however, and I was glad that she would get to spend an entire evening with Lloyd, who I liked very much as well. He'd always been very funny and sweet to us when I had used to visit Quinn before Russel had practically banned him from the house.

Back then, Quinn and I had speculated what might have happened to make Russel hate Lloyd so much, and thought that we could maybe get them to work it out if we only just knew what they had fought about.

But as the years went by, we realized that even if we had figured out what had gone down between them back when Quinn was nine, it wouldn't have changed anything. Because Russel Fabray was not a man you could reason with. He had his own truths and values – if you could call them that - and ruthlessly forced them upon anybody he could control.

So Quinn had given in, because she'd had no other choice, but she still talked to her grandpa at least three times a week, went to church to feel more connected to him, and saw him as her only role model. God knew, her family had a lack of them.

"So?" Quinn said in a probing and teasing tone. "What are your Christmas plans with Brittany?" she asked, a hint of a smirk in her voice. I rolled my eyes. Such a gossip.

"Nothing." I tried to untangle my favorite white golden necklace my abuela had given me for my Quinceañera, from another piece of jewelry with one hand and failed miserably. Frustrated, I groaned and wedged the cell phone between my shoulder and ear again.

"Why not?" Quinn's voice had lost her playfulness. "Did something happen? Ugh, god S, please tell me you didn't screw it up already!" she whined alarmed and exasperated with me.

I lowered my hands with the necklaces and raised my left eyebrow at the mirror, exchanging an annoyed look with my reflection.

"I didn't screw up anything." I gave back feistily, getting back to fingering the strands of white gold and silver apart, before my need to defend myself got the best of me. I lowered my hands again. "And besides, why do you automatically assume I'm the reason Britt and I have hypothetical problems!" I asked testily.

"Oh, come on."

"What? There could be any number of reasons, I mean, it's a really stressful time of year for one." I tried one more time to separate the two necklaces by pulling really hard on them, but all that did was tighten the knot in the middle even further and making me grunt angrily. Resigning, I carelessly tossed the jumbled up mess back into my wooden jewelry box, and took the phone into my hand again.

"So you're telling me you had a fight because it's a 'stressful time of year'?" she asked with a sarcastic snort. "You've barely been together two weeks! Shouldn't you still be in the love bubble or something?" I pulled a grimace and shook my head, bewildered. What the fuck?

Turning away from the mirror, I leaned my hip against my vanity. "What the hell are you even talking about, Fabray. Britt and I didn't have a fight!"

"But you just said-"

"I was speaking hypothetically! Britt and I are fine! And we've been together two weeks and six days now, so almost three weeks, thank you very much." I corrected her importantly. But seriously though, shouldn't she know that as our best friend?

At the other end of the phone I heard Quinn groan, "Wow. My apologies. So, what…you didn't have a fight? Why aren't you doing anything over Christmas then?" she asked confused and I almost didn't hear her last words over the sound of running water in the background.

"You're not taking a bath with me on the phone, right? Cause that would be slightly creepy, Q." my eyebrows furrowed as the mental image of Quinn's head sticking out of a sea of bubbles entered my brain involuntarily. Shaking my head, I tried to get rid of that picture, nevertheless thankful it had been rather harmless.

"No. Get over yourself, Santana. I'm just about to brush my teeth." Quinn gave back, and then the noise I heard stopped and was replaced by much closer brushing sounds. "Sho? Whai an't ooh ang Bwittny doin' any'hing owuh Chwishmash?"

"Because my mum doesn't want me to see her right now." I answered, a small pinch in my throat and the echo of queasiness in my stomach. I bit my lower lip to distract myself and looked down at my nails, awaiting Quinn's reaction once she realized what I had just implied.

"Wha'? Bu' Why? Why wou- she- UH!" Suddenly I heard a gargled sound and then loud, splattering coughing.

"Quinn?" I heard her spit out the toothpaste and then she was back and her voice louder than before. Way louder.

"OH MY GOD, YOU TOLD THEM, DIDN'T YOU?! God, you did! When? What did they say? Did you just tell your mum or-"

"Whow, whow, whow! Calm yo tits, Fabray! You're giving me a migraine!" I snapped, holding the phone an inch away from my ear until I was sure she wouldn't shout again. "Yes, I told them. Well, Britt and I did it together actually."

"When?"

"Saturday evening at dinner."

"Wow."

"Yeah." I caught myself gnawing on my thumb nail and forced my hand down, pinning it between the vanity and my ass.

"Well? How did it go?" Quinn pressed impatiently.

I frowned. That was still a hard question.

"It went…I don't know, it went fine, I guess. I mean, my dad and aunt Carmen and uncle Julio are completely fine with it-"

"Your aunt and uncle were there too?" she asked incredulously. I nodded even though she couldn't see me.

"Yep." The 'p' popped as I pressed my lips together before releasing them. It was an awkward habit of mine and I usually just used it to stress that something unbelievable was actually true, or to cover for feeling ill at ease. In this case it was kind of both.

"Wow." She repeated, a little stunned by the sound of it. "That's…That must have taken a lot of courage."

"I guess." I shrugged, pulling my hand from behind me and rubbing it over my thigh for something to do. "But it's not like I could have avoided the subject forever, so…" lightly slapping my hand against my thigh, I let the sentence trail off.

"Yeah, sure, but it was still…well…so they were really fine with it?"

"My dad, Carmen and Julio were, yes." I repeated my earlier answer.

"What about your mum?" Quinn asked carefully, and I could hear the concern in her voice. And the pity. I wasn't sure I wanted the pity, but I went on anyway. "She's not so okay with it." I gnawed on my lower lip and Quinn remained silent, waiting for me to go on.

I took a deep breath and wrapped my right arm around myself. A protective measure, that was more and more becoming a habit for me lately.

"At first she ran out and went for a walk or something. And then my dad told me that Brittany couldn't stay, so I drove her home. We talked about it, but I think she was dealing better with it than me, I mean, not like she didn't care or anything, but she was more concerned about how I felt about it. Well, you know how she is…" Quinn hummed affirmatively and I scratched my nose, more to have something to do with my hands than because it was actually itching. "She was disappointed when I told her that my mum probably wouldn't let us hang out over Christmas, though." I added, sighing internally as the longing boiled closer to the surface now that I was talking about Brittany so much.

"Well and then, when I came back home, my mum was back and we talked. Well, I talked. She kinda didn't say anything for a while. I told her and my dad about how I had figured it out. You know, that I'm gay and stuff, and how awesome Brittany is, but she didn't care. She just started crying and praying and telling me that I was making a mistake." I said, acid burning my insides as the disappointment flashed bright hot again.

I was quiet and after a while Quinn said softly into the silence, "I'm sorry, S. I wish it had gone better for you and your mum."

I nodded slowly, swallowing thickly before speaking again. "Yeah. Me too."

"This sucks."

"Yeah. It does."

And then I realized something.

In that moment, I realized that this wound my mum had inflicted would probably never really completely stop hurting. No matter what she did, no matter what happened from now on, something had been taken away from me, and the ache would always be there. It should have been shocking, this self cognizance. Scary. Maybe even depressing and more painful than before. But in acknowledging that - the inevitability of persistently feeling that pain somewhere inside of me, as a part of me, from now on - I must have opened myself up to healing. Because slowly, Quinn's consoling words reached within me and soothed me in a way nothing had until now.

It wasn't like when Carmen and my dad and Brittany had helped me ease my fears. Carmen and dad had given me hope that it would get better, but the pain had remained unanswered. Brittany had reminded me of what really mattered, that I had her and that we loved each other, and had instilled in me an instinctive need to protect her, giving me the power to ignore my own fears to be able to appreciate the good. Appreciate her, like she deserved. But deep in my heart I'd still refused to face the fact that my mum might never be okay with us. Quinn's words weren't promises of a brighter future or reminders of what good I still had in my life.

Quinn's words, so simple and honest, as they usually were, had merely given voice to the sadness that had held my heart captive. They hadn't tried to push it away, to get rid of it like I had thought I'd needed. They had simply seen the sadness, acknowledged it, and in that… began the healing.

My heart didn't need to be convinced it would see brighter days or that its pain would make it stronger.

It needed to mourn a loss.

As Quinn spoke again I felt the heaviness of the pain and the lightness of the healing mingle and dance slowly inside me and it wasn't so bad anymore. It wasn't unbearable, and I knew either way, no matter what happened, I'd be fine.

"So, you haven't screwed it up yet? Thank god, cause I'd really hate having to kick your skinny latina ass." Quinn's voice was matter-of-fact and I heard a door as she presumably walked out of the bathroom and back into her room to finish getting ready for church.

I snorted, pushing away from the vanity table and inspecting my own clothes on the mattress again. "Liar. You totally wouldn't. You love kicking my fine ass, and you know it."

"You know, I really do." She chuckled throatily and a big smile spread over my lips.

Quinn and I talked for another ten minutes, which mainly consisted of her teasing me good-naturedly - first about my skinny figure and then for being so cute and smitten, when I told her I was nervous about giving Brittany her present - before my mum called from downstairs, saying that we'd be leaving in five minutes for Christmas Mass.

"Okay! I'll be right down!" I yelled in answer, covering the phone with my other hand so Quinn's eardrums wouldn't burst, before holding it to my ear again. "Look, as nice as it was being teased by you, I gottz ta go, a'ight?" I said into the phone, bending over to pick up the dress I would wear.

Expecting to hear Quinn's snort at my slang, I was surprised when instead she asked, "Was that your mum?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah." I confirmed shortly, a little distracted, as I was trying to change into the outfit I had finally been able to choose, while still holding the phone against my ear. "Q, I really gotta go, abuela's been a little grumpy because her hip's been hurting cause of the weather, and so I'd really rather not keep her waiting, y'know."

"I thought she was…I thought things between you two were…weird at best. She kinda sounded totally normal though just then." She said, and the previous jingling I'd heard as she had started putting her earrings in, was gone.

"Ugh, I know." I groaned, switching the phone to the other side and pinching it between my shoulder and ear to have both hands free to zip up the dress on my left side. "Well, at first she was totally giving me the silent treatment, but now she's apparently decided to ignore that I ever came out in the first place." I rolled my eyes and sat down on my bed. I was practically done, except for my fancy boots, which were downstairs. I took a little breath and settled down a bit.

"She didn't talk to me all day on Sunday, but then she came into my room and said that she still loved me, but that she couldn't let me make this mistake." I quoted my mother as I smoothed out some lines on my lap. "She said I wasn't allowed to see Brittany anymore." My throat felt a little tight as I thought back to her hurtful ignorance, but at the same time I noticed with joy that confiding in Quinn was easy. Easier than it had been in a long, long time, and my hand relaxed on my thighs.

"Yeah, like that's ever gonna happen. If the two of you were any more connected you'd be joined at the hip and people would be calling you 'the Siamese Twins'." Quinn said with a snort, and I had to grin at her almost abrasive disregard for my mum's interdiction.

"You think? I always thought we'd morph into one single creepy mix-mutant person like Turk and Carla from Scrubs." I played along.

"I thought that was Turk and JD." She gave back contemplatively, before I heard someone shout on her end of the line.

"Ugh, that was my dad. He said if we're not ready to go in two minutes he's staying home and we can all walk to church."

"Aw, what a ray of sunshine." I cooed sarcastically with a grin.

"I know right?" she giggled. Another roar came and she groaned. "I really gotta go, talk to you tomorrow?"

"Sure, and thanks by the way, you know…for listening and stuff."

"De nada." I heard the smile in her voice. I hummed a chuckle.

"Feliz Navidad, Fabray."

"Feliz Navidad to you, too, Lopez."

"You look thin, aren't you eating? Aren't you feeding your daughter, Maria?" My mum took a step back as abuela rounded on her unexpectedly.

"Si, of course we're feeding her, mama." She reassured her, but my grandmother only shook her head disapprovingly and turned to inspect me once again, cupping my cheeks and tugging on the loose material over my middle. She'd been fretting over my weight since she'd arrived just before dinner and just wouldn't let it go.

It was true, the dress that had fit me perfectly last winter was a little big on me now, but I was sure that was only the stress of everything that had been happening lately and would go back to normal soon. Not that I could tell my grandmother that. She was my mother's mother after all, and I wasn't ready to face another rejection from someone I loved.

My abuela just clicked her tongue with a frown on her face, muttering something inaudible in Spanish and pulled my mum and me to either of her sides, linking our arms as we approached the main entrance of the church.

Like every year on Christmas, the old stone walls of the holy place were almost bursting with the large number of believers gathering for the Midnight Mass. As a kid I had always been delighted by the fact that our church still held the Christmas ceremony actually at midnight like its name promised, because that meant I was allowed to stay up late and go out in the middle of the night, when the world was unknown to me, unrecognizable almost, and sizzled with mystery and excitement. Not many churches still upheld that particular tradition though. In the area it was only this one, the one Quinn always went to, and another one two towns over.

Even though the night wasn't as undiscovered and exciting to me anymore as it used to be, this one night, when the air was filled with hushed words of well-wishing and the powerful chime of bells as the latest hour struck, still held wonder for me. Every year it captivated my heart anew and I felt my soul stir and my spirit rise. Not in a purely religious, spirit-rising-to-meet-the-lord kinda way, but in a breathtaking way nonetheless.

Walking up the snow-covered steps next to my grandmother, I felt peace settle inside me and curl up over my heart like a soft cat on a warm stove.

Two monumental chandeliers lit up the spacious room with its huge marble pillars and rows upon rows of dark wooden benches. Together with the light chains and seemingly innumerous candles placed all around, the light they gave off easily reached the large windows, throwing colorful and majestic paintings onto the snow covered grass out front.

Marco and Richie, for once apparently stunned into reverent silence, wordlessly marveled at them, their eyes big and innocent as they tried to take it all in.

In a way I still felt like them, awestruck and overwhelmed by the holy atmosphere weaving its web all around us.

Christmas had always been a wondrous time for me. Its unnamable power, so strong it almost took on palpable shape, never seized to take me by surprise, to sweep me up and lift me above the ways and workings and worries of the normal world, and hold me there for a while, even when earthly matters distracted me.

At this moment, it was my phone vibrating in my coat pocket that brought me back down from my Christmas cloud. And as soon as it had gotten my attention, my mum's was on it as well.

"Turn that off right now!" she hissed at me quietly around my grandmother's front, her brows furrowed deeply and her eyes glowing darkly.

I had only just gotten a brief glance at the display, telling me it was Brittany who had texted me, before I had to hastily hold it out of my mother's reach as she made to take it from me.

"Hey!" I turned my body sideways to block her grabbing hand and she stopped us in front of the big advent wreath that stood larger than life just beyond the entrance, stepping in front of my abuela to get to me. She caught hold of my arm and spun me around, her face hard and angry.

"Santana Estrella Lopez! Dàmeo!"

I was about to protest, but abuela stepped between us, glaring at the both of us.

"Stop this childish behavior right now!" she demanded in a harsh whisper that left no room for argument.

From the corner of my eye I saw that my dad was discreetly moving closer, keeping an eye on us in case our little disagreement escalated. He wouldn't have had to worry though. Not with Alma Mendoza keeping us in place.

"Santana, put that thing away, we're in a holy place." She chastised gently.

I was about to comply when my mother added, "And turn it off!"

I only barely managed to not roll my eyes at her as I regretfully left Brittany's message unread and unanswered and switched my cell phone off, before putting it back into my pocket.

"There. Happy?" I said slightly grudgingly. This whole scenario was making me really angry and I felt inexplicably humiliated for some reason.

My mum was about to say something else and I almost wished she would so I could just respond reflexively and maybe figure out what was bothering me so much, but abuela shook her head and instead ushered us past my dad and towards a row of benches near the front, which Marco and Richie had apparently picked for us, judging by the way they were beaming when Julio nodded at them and we all followed to sit down on the blood red, satin cushions.

Abuela was careful to take a seat between the two of us.

"So. Now be quiet and listen to god's words before he gives up on you two for good and spends his evening doing better things than listening to the two of you bicker like little children. Ay, even the boys are better behaved than you." She muttered under her breath.

My mum and I exchanged another cold glance before I leaned back and she was out of my direct line of sight. Ugh!

Instead my eyes focused on the beautifully decorated altar in all its Christmas-y glory. The sight was amazing and the humble wonder that had taken over my heart before came back at once, wiping any angry feelings I still harbored against my mother far from my conscience in the blink of an eye. I wasn't a particularly religious person, but somehow this night spoke to me like no other religiously meaningful day ever did. It wasn't so much that I believed all that 'Christ-our-savior-was-born-today' stuff, but there was something that took hold of me.

Maybe it was the way everything was so quiet but overwhelmingly big at the same time. Maybe it was the lights that sparkled everywhere, illuminating the otherwise dark night. Maybe it was the kindness that was displayed on most people's faces, or maybe it was the fact that most Christmas stories had a happy ending.

I didn't know why, but somehow Christmas was … love.

Christmas for me represented love and hope and kindness and safety.

There wasn't a specific reason why, no remarkable act of kindness had ever been made towards me on Christmas, no one had ever professed their undying love for me on Christmas, nothing had ever happened on this day, that would explain why I felt those things now. Especially now. But despite the situation I was in with my mum, Christmas hadn't lost its magic. And I hoped, with Brittany as my teacher, I'd never fail to see the magic in things again.

I curled my fingers around my phone in my coat pocket but didn't take it out. I just wanted to have some sort of connection to Brittany while I felt so grounded but lifted at the same time. It should have been scary, this feeling of being so small in the face of something much bigger than all of us, but it had never frightened me in here, on this night. And as father Michaels walked up to the podium and spoke his first words, I felt as content as ever.

And I felt Brittany right here with me. Within myself.

Christmas morning came and went and before I knew it, Carmen, Julio, the boys and abuela had said their goodbyes after a last piece of left over ginger cake for dessert.

It was just past two in the afternoon when I closed the door behind the lot of them, relieved but saddened at the same time to see them go. It had been really great to spend Christmas with so many of my relatives right in our house. Especially, since they had functioned as a buffer between my mum and me and all the drama I didn't trust wasn't still waiting for me.

After abuela's reprimand in the church my mum and I hadn't fought anymore, but she hadn't gone back to her cheery pretend-nothing-happened crap either. All throughout this morning's gift-giving procedure and the following lunch of left-overs, she hadn't talked to me much, but whenever she had addressed me directly her words had been clipped and her expression closed. It wasn't as hurtful as I would have imagined, but maybe that was just because I had gotten kinda used to the idea of her and me being at odds from now on.

Abuela however, not being in the know about what was really going on, had seemed to pick up on the mood and wondered at it. Yet, uncharacteristically for her, she hadn't pressed the issue. Only when I had helped her into her coat a few minutes ago, had she asked me if I didn't want to tell her what was going on. I had told her I didn't know what she was talking about and when she pointed out my mum's and my icey interactions today, I said that it must still be from the phone thing. Immediately I could see that she hadn't bought one word of it, but uncle Julio and aunt Carmen politely urged to leave before she could interrogate me any further.

I was sure I hadn't heard the last of it though and as I walked back into the kitchen to help with the clean-up, I wondered what would happen if I told her about everything.

How would she react?

My first instinct had been to keep quiet, fearing my mother had gotten her opinion from my abuela, but it didn't really work like that, did it? My mum was just as much her own person as I was and that meant that abuela's reaction could be completely different from my mum's, couldn't it? Of course it could…but was it worth the risk of being wrong? Of losing her too?

I haven't lost mum yet!

I sighed deeply, closing my eyes for a second, as I reminded myself of that. I hadn't lost her yet.

And anyway… the answer was yes. Yes, it was worth it. Even though things weren't the way I would wish for them to be, I didn't regret coming out. I didn't regret sharing how I felt about Brittany. How we felt about each other.

Yes, Brittany. Brittany was worth it.

All of it.

When we had gotten home from church around half past one in the night, I had immediately gone to bed and there I had checked Brittany's message.

There were two actually and as I read through the first one, I teared up in a second, smiling shakily at the sweet words she had written me and feeling more loved than ever.

The second one she had apparently sent about an hour later just before church had ended, had made me laugh out loud, however. She'd asked me if it was Coach Sylvester's birthday today because she kept saying she was god's gift to earth just like Jesus. I replied that she was just full of herself and that I was pretty sure it wasn't her birthday. I refrained from adding that it wouldn't matter either way because Sue didn't deserve or want congratulations from us anyway, but I held back, not wanting to spoil the mood.

Instead I sent another message. A longer one, in which I tried to explain to her what she meant to me like she had done in her first text. I thought I had done a rather poor job of it, but when Brittany had woken me up with a call this morning, thanking me for the amazing text with a catch in her voice, I instantly felt better about it, although I was getting a little flustered when she told me in a husky voice how she couldn't wait to really thank me.

Unsurprisingly, despite it being mid-winter, a cold shower had followed that phone call.

Since then I'd received four more messages and had missed one call. Sam, Mercedes, Puck and weirdly enough Sugar had texted me to say Merry Christmas and Fernando had left me a voice mail saying he'd be in town after New Year's and that we should hang if I had time for him.

I texted them all back, wishing them Merry Christmas as well and written my cousin to call me when he arrived in Lima so we could set something up. I hadn't seen him in ages and the idea of spending some time with him sounded great. We could catch up and talk about old times and he could meet Brittany.

Well, I mean he'd already met her a few times, but that was years ago and she hadn't been my girlfriend then. Hearing Fernando's voice and listening to his slightly teasing, familiar tone as he'd left the message had brought back many memories of him and me sitting on the porch in front of uncle Roberto's house, talking about his parents and mine and teasing each other about everything and nothing.

I couldn't exactly say why, but suddenly I was sure that he would be fine with me being gay, and I couldn't wait to finally introduce Brittany as my girlfriend to someone from my family, who cared about me, without all that drama around. Spending the day, just the three of us, sounded better and better by the second.

I quickly finished cleaning the kitchen, glad my mum had decided I could well do that on my own, and then went up to my room to call Brittany.

When she answered my heart jumped.

"Hey, Sanny!"

"Hey, Britt-Britt. So, remember my cousin Fernando?" I asked without further ado, picking up Karl the Koosh's sister from the top of my shelf and slumping down in the middle of the bed, leaning my back against the head board. Having somehow gotten attached to the little colorful toy, I had bought another koosh just like the one Brittany had after giving hers back to her and had named it Kerry.

"The older one? The one that's studying in Chicago?"

"He's actually checking out New York at the moment." I told her, throwing Kerry up into the air until just under the ceiling and catching her more or less easily with one hand. Quinn had once pointed out that I always played with balls like that when I was talking on the phone. She had teased me that I was a total dude in that aspect. Back then I had gotten irrationally angry at her and we'd had a big fight which had resulted in us not speaking to each other for three days. Now I actually found that fact a little amusing. Plus, I was getting quite good at it, so yeah.

"Really? That's so cool!"

"Yeah, so anyway, he's gonna come home after New Year's and he wanted to meet up with us."

"Oh, yay! He tells funny stories."

I snorted. Yah, Fernando told funny stories about 'the streets' alright. Funny and completely made up if you asked me. "Yeah, so anyway, you wanna go?"

For some reason I grew a little nervous. Not that l thought Brittany might say no, she'd obviously love to see him again, and it wasn't even that I was suddenly anxious the two may unexpectedly not get along anymore. That was ridiculous. I really had no idea why my stomach felt so uneasy all of a sudden.

"Of course! It's gonna be totally awesome, don't you think?" She sounded really excited, but somehow that didn't make me feel any better like it usually did.

"Yeah, no, I think it's gonna be good." I agreed nonetheless, nodding my head. And I did think it was going to be good, just apparently nerve wracking as hell…

"Soooo, whatcha doin'?" I asked with a little smirk, hoping to direct the conversation to this morning's topic. Sexy phone talk with Brittany had become a love-hate of mine lately. On the one hand it was torture not being able to actually do anything, but on the other hand she was just so incredibly sexy and I loved that she could turn me on with just a few words, or not even that. Sometimes a guttural hum or a throaty laugh was all it took to get my motors running.

"I was just gonna text some people. You know, saying Merry Christmas and all. I haven't gotten around to it yet, cause I lost my phone after we talked this morning." Not quite what I was hoping for but what the hell…

"Where was it?"

"Huh?"

"Your phone."

"Oh, in the fridge."

That made me laugh. "Did you get something to eat after we hung up?" I asked, guessing the answer.

"No. Why?"

Huh?

Frowning, I shook my head. Brittany was so random sometimes and I loved it. A small smile crept onto my face. "Nevermind. So, who'd you text?" I asked, jerking my head aside to avoid getting hit by Kerry. So what? Sometimes I still miss, sue me.

"Uuum, Quinn, Mike, Tina, Mercedes, Finn…well, basically everyone in Glee club, and my auntie Lauretta's nurse cause you know how she can't read texts anymore or talk on the phone, and Trish and Melissa from dance class." Brittany counted off.

"Who's Trish from dance? I didn't know you had a Trish in your Hip Hop class." I frowned, squeezing Kerry with my right hand as I tried to remember if Britt had told me about a new girl joining her Thursday dance rehearsals.

"Oh, no, Trish isn't in my dance class. I meant that I texted Melissa from dance and Trish from Sam's party." She explained patiently. She went on about something that had happened in the last dance lesson before break, but I already wasn't listening anymore.

Trish…As in Patricia?! As in that fucking bitch that came onto her? Seriously?

My heartbeat was in my throat and the blood rushed noisily in my ears as I tuned back in to what Brittany was saying. "-cause we danced so well last year, so I think they're gonna ask us again this year! Isn't that awesome?!"

Her voice had taken on a tone of excitement and it was obvious that she'd just told me something I should be just as happy about, but I already had my hands full just trying furiously to bite back any comment about Trish I wanted to throw at her head.

Calm down! If you get overly jealous now it won't help anything! Just chill the fuck out!

I took a deep breath and tried to get rid of the nagging feeling that was turning my stomach upset down and forcing my lips into a thin line. I had no reason to get jealous, I told myself over and over again.

"San?"

"Huh?"

"Don't you think it'll be great if we get to perform at the parade again?"

But seriously though! What does she even want with her? That bitch clearly doesn't have any respect at all, I mean the way she talked to me! And anyway, she totally knew that I was into Brittany and she came on to her right in front of me anyway! I can't believe she's got the nerve to still text Br-

"San? You still there?"

"Hm? Yeah! Yeah, sure."

"So?"

"Uuh…" I grimaced and struggled to recall the conversation we were having. Or should have been having anyway, if my mind weren't somewhere else. "Um…" Something about dancing, something about …something abooout….ah hell, something good! "Yeah, that sounds awesome!"

"You're gonna come, right?"

"Sure, I wouldn't miss it!" I promised blindly, not having a clue what I had just agreed to. My mind was still reeling with uncalled for pictures and scenarios of texts very much like the ones Britt and I exchanged, while my body buzzed with uncomfortable, but very strong annoyance. Not just annoyance… bitter apprehension.

"Sweet!" she exclaimed, and I thought I heard her clap happily on the other end of the line. "I'll get you tickets! Well, if we actually get the gig, but I'm pretty sure, Ryder was whistling before and after the lesson." She informed me confidently.

Brittany's Hip Hop teacher Ryder only whistled when she was really happy and convinced things were going her way, which wasn't very often because her standards were extremely high.

"Well, that's as good a guaranty as you can get then." I said, settling down a little and managing to tread back into the conversation, even though I still wasn't sure what I was getting a ticket to, but it really didn't matter. I loved all of Brittany's dance shows and if I could be there I'd always sit in the first row with her parents and Emily.

"I know, right?!"

I smiled and hummed, her enthusiasm infecting me and pushing my jealous tension to the back of my mind.

She sighed happily into the phone and a second later I heard a louder puff of air escape her at the same time as I heard a soft thud as she probably let herself sink onto her bed or the living room couch. For a short while neither of us talked, content just listening to the other's breathing, until she spoke again.

"So how are things with your mum?" her voice was gentle and soothing as she asked me and I didn't feel the usual stab of pain when discussing the issue.

"Ugh, well… she's kinda short with me, you know, not talking much and scowling a lot, but it's alright I guess. She'll come around or she won't, either way, there's nothing I can do about it right now." I heard someone come up the stairs and prayed they wouldn't want something from me, holding my breath a little, but luckily they just went past my door and left me alone.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm really sorry though, baby. She really doesn't mean it bad, you know? I just…I think she just needs a little more time." Brittany mused hesitantly.

She was trying so hard to make me feel better and remind me that this wasn't my fault and that it didn't mean my mother didn't still love me and I loved her for it, but it wasn't necessary anymore. I had made my peace with the situation for now, and especially when I was on the phone with Brittany, talking to her, it all didn't seem so horrible after all.

"I know. It's okay, Britt, I'm really okay. I'm just happy we told them and I mean, my dad and the others were great, so that's something, right? That's more than that, that's just…anyway, I'm the one who's supposed to say I'm sorry. If it weren't for my mum you and I would be together right now." I said, a sigh of regret and longing in my heart.

"Mmh." Brittany hummed lowly.

After a little pause, she went on, "What…I mean, how long do you think she's gonna…you know, keep us apart?"

She sounded kinda small but also like she was fighting to keep her voice clear of emotions. It sent a cold shiver down my spine. Brittany wasn't like that. Brittany never held back her emotions. Not like this. Not to the point where her voice starts to sound empty.

"Britt-" I cooed, angling my head so my mouth was closer to the phone. "Babe, I'm sorry. I promise you we'll see each other soon, okay? I promise. My parents should be going back to work tomorrow and then I'll come over, okay?" I murmurred softly into the phone. God, I miss her so much!

"Kay." She mumbled back, it didn't sound overjoyed at all and I frowned.

"Hey, a little more enthusiasm would be welcome here." I joked, trying to make her laugh or at least smile.

I got a soft hum, but nothing more.

"Hey, come on, what's wrong? I thought you'd be thrilled." I asked seriously this time.

"No, I am." She reassured me, but I didn't buy it. Something was still bothering her.

"But?"

"Nothing, it's just… well, she told you not to see me again, right? You can't just, like, not do what she says, she's your mum." Brittany said in a meek, regretful voice.

Bullshit!

"Sure I can. If what she tells me to do is complete bullshit I can totally not listen to her. She's not god, you know. She's just a woman and she can be wrong about things. And she is. She is wrong about this, so I won't just never see you again outside of school because I didn't turn out to be like mama Lopez always wanted me to. Life's not always a bowl of cherries and she can't just decide what's best for me. I do that and no one else." I ranted a little harshly.

To lighten up the serious mood I'd just set, I added, "Well, maybe you can."

As I heard her giggle, a small weight lifted off my heart and I smiled.

"Listen, B. She's gonna be a bitch about it or she won't, but fact is, I love you and I'm gonna keep seeing you and ain't nothing gonna change that, okay?"

Another giggle. My chest swelled proudly because I had been able to make her happy again.

"Okay." She gave in. But this time it sounded much more sincere.

"Okay then." I smiled slyly.

"And San?"

"Hm?"

"I love you too."

so that's it guys :) thanks for reading and i hope you liked it.

Spanish:

Dàmeo – Give it to me!