I think Papá's view of the phrase "what is meant to be, will be" is a little bit askew. Usually, when one believes in such a thing, they don't force their hand into the wheel of fate as forcefully as he has.

Yesterday, I received this message:

Papá:
Hola mija! I hope you don't have plans tomorrow night. I'm taking you to dinner and then I have a surprise for you!

Today he told me that I should dress "nice."

Nice to me is one of my skin-tight, almost mid-thigh dresses. It generally garners a look from Papá, but then he tells me I look nice anyways.

So here I am, dressed nice in purple and black, post dinner and looking at my surprise.

Papá called in a favor he was owed by one of the professors in the Tisch School. He's taking me to the second night of Funny Girl previews.

"Papá, why are we here?" I ask as I stare at the theatre's marquee.

"Porqué, mija, I want to have a nice night with my daughter," he smiles and winks at me, before holding out his arm for us to cross the street.

"Papá," I say sternly because I'm not sure that I can take his humor right now, "Don't act like you don't know who is in this."

"Of course I know who is in this, Santana and so do you," he smiles and looks back at the theatre. I know he's looking at one of the pictures of Rachel… Fanny.

"What about 'lo que será, será?'" I ask, baffled at his audacity.

He pulls out the tickets as we approach the scanners and keeps hold of my arm as we pass through the doors into the main lobby of the theatre. Here, we're accosted by more images from the production and promotional photos.

"How can anything be if you do nothing, mija?" he asks just as we're handed Playbills and there she is again. The cover of the Playbill is her silhouette with the words Funny Girl under her chin.

Without lifting my head I say quietly, "I do want to see her."

"So do I," he wraps his arm around me and pulls me out my trance. We take our seats in the middle of the orchestra and as soon as we're settled and surrounded by other patrons Papá says, "And I want her to sign this, so we're going to the stage door."

Before I can respond the lights go down and I'm left with all my fear, agitation and excitement bottled up in my stomach. I'm not even sure I'm ready to see her on stage let alone in person.

God! What is wrong with me? Have I just convinced myself that I'm over her? I guess if you say something enough it starts to become your truth. I've been existing with this being my truth for over a year and a half. I'm so pathetic!

I can't be here. I'm not going to be able to sit through this.

"Hello, gorgeous."

She is.

~:~:~

Despite my protests, Papá is adamant about going to the stage door. I wish I knew what was going on in my head for me to explain it to you. It's everywhere. I'm absolutely terrified, but I'm excited and I'm frustrated. Most of all I feel blind. I don't know what's going to happen. This isn't how I planned to see Rachel again. Granted, I didn't have a plan to see Rachel again, but this wasn't it. It definitely wasn't planned for tonight! I'm just so unprepared.

"I can't believe you're making me do this!" I say to Papá in a sort of last ditch effort as we maneuver around the crowd waiting behind the parade bars around the stage door.

"I can't believe how loca you're acting," he says looking over to me.

I don't even have words for this man right now.

"It's going to be fine, mija. We'll just stand over here," he directs me somewhat away from the line, but clearly in the path to where the cars wait for the actors, "And when Rachel comes out, she'll see you in that dress and have to stop."

"¡Papá!"

"What? I told you to dress nice for a reason."

He can't be serious with this! His meddling is going too far!

"Okay, first of all, you are not my wingman!"

"Of course I'm not, that would be weird-"

"Second of all," I grind out, "what are you doing?"

"I am simply saying hello and congratulations to someone I was once very close with," he says and this cheeky smile pops up on his lips.

He is really something else right now.

"Right, Papá, was. It's not like she's going to see me and immediately want to be with me again. Things don't work that way. If anything she's just going to remember how awful I was."

And there it is. The fear.

"Tana," he turns to me and squares my shoulders to him, "Of course that's not how it works. But it doesn't work by sitting in your apartment and reading about her either. That is weird," I laugh a little even though he's making fun of me, "You were both very young when everything happened. At seventeen you were both dealing with some very adult things and you handled them the way your lack of life experience could allow you to. You have to know this. And I know you know you aren't the same person you were two years ago and guess what? I have a feeling Rachel is different, too."

He's said these things to me before. About two years ago actually, when it all happened. Instead of running right to Brittany, I left the school, got in my car and drove an hour to Papá's hospital. After Mamá died, he finally went to a hospital worthy of his talent; that's how he landed the NYU gig. So I drove all the way to Fort Wayne. It actually should have taken me longer but I was on a mission. He served me that exact wisdom and it did nothing to ease the pain of knowing that I lost the love of my life at my own idiotic hand. It definitely stuck with me, though and over time that truth helped me to learn from the mistake I had made.

As right as he still is, that knowledge isn't quelling my fear at the moment, "But what if-"

"I don't know and neither will you if you don't stay here and wait for her to come out of that door."

Loud cheers erupt from the crowd surrounding the stage door and I stop breathing for moment.

"No es ella," Papá says, putting his arm around my shoulders to calm me down, "it's her costar."

I let out the breath I was holding and look down at the ground. I don't even know what to say when I see her. I mean, there's always 'hi,' but what comes after that?

As I'm staring down at the ground, even louder cheers erupt from crowd making me look up immediately.

"Is that her?" I ask, grasping at the bottom of Papá's jacket.

"No sé," he answers. He's standing on his tip toes and he can't see who walked out of the door.

It could be her.

She's only 5'2" and there are plenty of people standing in our line of vision to make seeing her impossible.

"Rachel!"

Ohmygoditisher.

"Papá…?"

"Mija…?" he responds and holds my shoulders tighter.

"I can't do this," I feel panic coursing through my veins and my chest getting tight.

"Yes you can, mija," he squeezes me again, "Just say 'hi' and tell her how amazing she was."

"She really was," I say feeling the pressure in my chest lighten just slightly.

"Also, mija, this is a surprise for her, too."

Oh. My. God.

This is the worst! I didn't even think of that! Here I am thinking about how unprepared I am for this and Rachel doesn't even know I'm standing here! This is like, a sneak attack! She's going to hate me!

I duck out from under his arm and twist my body so that I'm standing directly in front of him and looking right at him, "Papá, this is not a good-"

"Dr. Lopez?"

I can't even move.

"Hola, Rachel!" he smiles and peeks around me to talk to the girl who just uttered his name. Through his smile he mutters, "Mija, turn around."

I close my eyes for a moment and exhale. For good measure, I take in a another breath and in a fruitless attempt to calm my nerves, exhale as I slowly turn to face where that gorgeous sound came from.

"Hi," I breathe meekly as my eyes meet hers.

Surprised isn't a good enough word to describe the look that I'm met with, however shock is perhaps a bit too strong. I see her lick her lips before her jaw goes slightly slack and then, this quarter smile tugs at the corner of her lips. Then my eyes wander down some more. She's wearing this simple v-neck t-shirt and jeans and I can't help but think how sexy the simplicity is. The t-shirt hugs her in all of the right places and her legs are still unbelievable. My eyes wander back up to the skin that the v-neck reveals and probably stay there a little too long.

"Hi," I hear her say and I know they were there far too long. My eyes shoot back up and they're met with a smile. There's a genuine smile on her face and I can feel my heart pound even harder than it has been.

"You were fantastic!" I hear Papá say from behind me.

"You saw the show tonight?" her face gets a little pink as she asks and I am accosted by the adorableness that she still exudes.

"Papá called in some favors," I finally find my voice. It's shaky, I know it is, but I can't just stand here and stare at her. At lease I'm aware of that.

"Well," she stands up a little straighter, the blush gone, "these are just the previews. We're still working some things out. You're definitely going to have to come after we open."

"But you were amazing," I say it without even thinking about it. The words 'just like I always knew you'd be,' stayed in my head though. Too much, too soon.

"Thank you," I can see her blush again, but she perks back up immediately, "You know what? Why don't I take you two backstage? They're still working on a few things in there and I can keep you guys out of their way so it shouldn't be a problem."

Her words aren't as big, but she's still using a little too many and it's wonderful. I can feel myself smiling.

"That sounds marvelous," Papá answers for us and puts his hand on my back lightly to nudge me forward.

Looks like I don't have an option.

"Come on," Rachel starts turning and waves us back towards the stage door.

Letting my panic get the best of me, "You don't have like, an after party or something?" Hey, I don't know how this shit works, I'm a Poli Sci major.

"No," she laughs and turns to me, "that was last night. No one cares about night two." Her chuckles continue as she addresses the... I guess he's a bouncer… "Hey, Joe, mind letting me back in there?" Then, she pouts at him. He rolls his eyes, stretches his keys from his belt and opens the door.

Still works like a charm.

"Come on, Tana. This is a good sign," Papá mutters into my ear as he pushes me forward and through the door.

"Welcome to my home away from home!" she holds out her arms as she backs up into the back stage area.

You know, as terrifying as this is, it feels really great to see her… in person. She is so happy. The smile on her face is so bright and beautiful and her eyes are just glowing at everything they meet with. I think I might actually be grateful that Papá blindsided me with this.

"This is really something else, Rachel," Papá says as he looks up into the flies above the stage.

"I know," I hear her reply and as I look back towards her, I see her head snap back towards my father. Was she just staring at me? Well, now I'm staring at her. God, how can I not? She's perf… ect…

She just caught me…

My face must be so pink… oh god. Hey floor! How's life treatin' ya? Not so good? Tired of being walked all over? Hold on a sec, I have to check something really quick… AAHH! I caught her! She was staring at me! And we're back to pink cheeks.

I feel like I'm in the seventh grade, when everything is awkward. You're stuck dealing with all of the shit happening to your body and your brain and they're never on the same page. And on top of that you have to deal with everyone else who are going through the same shit you are, making everything awkward all the time. Right now, I feel like Rachel is the really cute girl in my English class that I can't stop looking at, but because everything is awkward, she can't know.

"Uuuuhhh… I don't think we can go on the stage right this second, but I could take you up to see my dressing room," she starts walking deeper into the the theatre, "I have my own."

"Sure!" Papá responds and begins to follow her.

I guess I still don't have a choice. I definitely don't when Papá is shoving me ahead of him.

"Oh my goodness, would you look at that," Papá's hand isn't on my back anymore and I stop dead in my tracks… so does Rachel, "I had no idea how late it was! ¡Ay dios mio! I have some grading to get done. You two should go on. I can remember how to get back."

"Papá?" I mutter through gritted teeth, "What are you doing?"

Everything is awkward.

"Rachel it was an absolute pleasure to see you and you were truly magnificent tonight," he looks beyond me and gives her one of his adoring smiles and I'm reminded that he always did love her. I'm quickly torn out of that reverie as I feel him wrap his arms around me and hear him whisper, "Te amo y tratas de mantener el pie de tu boca."

I can certainly think of another place to put my foot, though.

"Buenos noches," he backs away and waves to us and I just stare as he exits out through the door we came in.

"Why do I have a feeling there's no grading to be done?" I hear Rachel laugh lightly behind me and even though it's just a little, it's still music to my ears.

It's so weird. Yes, everything is awkward, but being near her feels… right. It shouldn't feel like this, should it? See I don't know, I don't have anything to go off of. I've never tried to win someone back before.

That's what I'm doing right now, isn't it? Trying to win her back? It's only just hit me. I'm thinking it's a little late for me to be realizing that. It's probably because this wan't my plan.

"He thinks he's my wingman," I say as I turn back to her and immediately regret it. Hey mouth, here's my foot.

She laughs a little again, looks down at the floor, tucks a piece of her lightly curled, ombre hair behind her ear and says, "He isn't too bad at it."

What. Does that. Mean?

"Hey," she looks past one of the teaser curtains, "I think they're done on the stage if you want to…" she nods towards it.

I simply nod and follow her to the stage. I might check out her butt as we're walking and it might be even better than I remember.

"Usually you can't see the audience because of the lights, but" she shrugs as she turns back to look at me, "this is what it's like to be on a Broadway stage."

"I'm sorry, for this," I say from my safe eight feet of distance from her. I'd let her keep wandering towards center stage and stopped up left, "I didn't know he was bringing me here… if I'd known I probably would have…" I stop there because I don't know what I would have done… I probably wouldn't have come. It's not like I could have warned her.

"Not come?" I see the slightest inkling of sadness in her eyes as she says it.

"Probably," I answer through my own bafflement of how she can read me so easily, "But then I would have missed you being amazing in your dream role."

At some point I… or we started walking towards each other because that eight feet has turned into about three and there's this tension just hanging there. Once again, it's weird. I can feel all of these familiar things, but there's something different. It's a little scary, but it isn't bad.

"Hey, Rach, I've gotta lock up in like, three," a voice comes from who the fuck knows where.

"Okay, Katie! Come on," she turns back to me and nods back towards the stage door, "Sorry I didn't get to show you more."

"Believe me, this is more than anything I was expecting," I say and I can feel too much oxygen leaving my lungs as I say it.

She turns back and gives me this sweet, adorable smile and my heart does that thing where I feel like it's actually melting. When she opens the door to go back outside, I'm half expecting there to still be a crowd of people there. Everyone is pretty much gone. Actually, the only people left are the bouncer guy and Rachel's driver standing next to her car.

"It was really nice to see you, Santana," she says my name for the first time tonight and just hearing it in her voice feels like I've been missing something for the last two years.

"Yeah, I'm glad my Dad dragged me here," I chuckle a little and hope she remembers that sarcasm is my third language.

She smiles at me, then takes the few steps to the open car door waiting for her. She turns around before she gets in and says, "Be safe."

Umm… I mean, I am taking the subway at like, 11PM but it's not like it's that big of a deal. I hope my face doesn't show that I think that was a little weird. It probably does. Before I can show that I'm berating myself, I see Rachel do it to herself. She scrunches up her nose slightly and shakes her head before turning to get in the car. I'm suddenly reminded that this is just as awkward for her and even more unexpected.

I also hear the thought of 'You need to see her again,' ring through my head.

"Rachel, wait," I jog the eight steps to her car and get to her before her driver can shut the door. Oh god what the fuck am I going to say? Wait, what do I want? Oh, "Can I see you again? I mean, I see you every day in the Subway, but I mean… in… person."

I am the biggest moron.

But she's laughing.

"I'd like that," she keeps laughing lightly, "Um… text me… or call, whatever," she shakes her head a little, "I have a new number though. A New York one."

"Oh, um yeah," I fumble with my bag to get to my phone. I know I still have her in there, "Let me just umm…" find her contact…

Rach❤️

Oh god she can't see that heart! I can't believe I left that. Well, not anymore.

After I get rid of the heart and add the E and L back into her name, I hand her my phone so that she can put her new number in it. When she hands it back to me, I look at it and immediately smile. Why? I don't know, but with it still on my face I look up and say, "See you soon, Rachel," then back away from her so that her driver can take her home.

I guess I should thank Papá, huh?

~:~:~

"You're dad has the biggest balls!"

I had to tell someone about this. And who better than my best friend?

"Britt, don't say that. Ew."

"You know what I mean, San," Brittany rolls her eyes at me from over 2000 miles away.

"Doesn't mean I want you talking about my Dad's… blech," I gag, "Or anyone's actually."

"You're so gay," she laughs and then tears into a slice of pizza. Now it's my turn for an eye roll. "So, anyways, he just left you there with her? Then what?"

"Well, it was sufficiently awkward, that's for sure, but it's not like I was trying to run away from her…"

"Because you had all these feelings happening, right?" she gets a little pixelated and stuck as she says that so I can't really see her facial expression, but she says it in a way reminiscent of a time when this was something I didn't want to talk about.

But, I'm a much different person, "Exactly. Britt, even though it was awkward, it felt right being near her. And I felt so many of the same things I felt for her when we were together, but it was different. I don't know how to explain it. Like, I don't think I could even begin to try."

"Are you going to try to see her again?" she asks getting closer to her screen and with so much excitement.

"She gave me her new number," I give her this awkward, but giddy smile.

"Oh my god you have to text her like, now!" she's shaking her hands with this urgency that is so unnecessary.

"Britt, it's midnight here-"

"I know what time it is! Here plus three," she rolls her eyes again, "Who cares if she's asleep, it will be there when she wakes up. She'll know you're serious about this! Don't go days without saying anything to her."

I know what she's saying. I know what she's referring to and I'm internally thanking her for not actually saying it. She's totally right though. As per usual.

"Okay," I say pulling my phone across my coffee table. I sit there contemplating for a moment and draw a complete blank, "What do I say?"

"Uhh…"

"Oh, great. Thanks for the help, B," another eye roll.

"Tell her she was amazing tonight," Brittany says quickly.

Okay, yeah, that's good. It's pretty neutral I guess.

With my bottom lip wedged between my teeth, I type out the message:

Hey, Rachel. You really were amazing tonight.

I hit send before I can second guess myself and put my phone back down.

"Now that wasn't so hard wa-"

She must have heard my phone buzz on the table.

"It's her…" I say as I pick up my phone. I slide the green icon across and enter my passcode:

Rachel:
Who is this?

"What? What did she say?" Brittany must see the panic on my face. But my phone buzzes again and a new grey bubble pops up:

I'm just kidding. Thank you, Santana.

I breathe out this sigh of relief. I don't know why. It really shouldn't have surprised me if she'd deleted my number. It does make me feel more confident knowing that she didn't though.

And another grey bubble buzzes in:

Though I am quite sleepy right now, it would be wonderful to plan something. I told Kurt that you were at the show tonight and he would love the chance to catch up.

"What now?" Brittany's asking with such urgency but I can't pull my eyes away from her adorableness.

And we're buzzing again. She is still the fastest texter:

And I'd love that, too.

Just seeing the word love in relation to me is making my heart pound.

Okay, what's the perfect response…

"Whatever it is, tell her you'll call her," I give Brittany 'really?' eyes because she is really driving that home. I'm not going to say that.

Instead:

I can't wait.

But then after I hit send, I feel like that's not enough and because I'm nervous even in some text messages I type:

I'll text you tomorrow. Goodnight, Rachel.

That feels good.

One more buzz and a grey bubble:

Goodnight, Santana.

It most certainly is.

~:~:~

Te amo y tratas de mantener el pie de tu boca. - I love you and try to keep your foot out of your mouth.

A/N: See you again on Friday. Now it's back to work. I'm almost done.