I am notoriously impatient. It generally works in my favor as I channel it into my drive to succeed, but there are the few times when it leaves me heartbroken. Even then, I have a hard time giving something up. It's just in my nature.

Because of my notorious impatience, it came as no surprise to my fathers that I wanted to move to New York City immediately after graduation. Lucky for me, Kurt was on board. Our parents put us up in a hotel long enough for us to find a place and on July 1, 2012 we moved into our first New York City apartment. It's in Bushwick which is right smack in the middle of Brooklyn, but it's ours and it's perfect.

The following September I started at Pace University. It wasn't my first choice or my second… but to be fair, my first choice doesn't have a musical theatre program, so technically, Pace was actually my second choice. It's a good school and believe me, I wasn't disappointed, I'm driven, remember?

Things were alright at Pace. I had this one dance professor… this washed up Broadway star that had a Patti LuPone freak out onstage once, except that she isn't Patti LuPone and couldn't get away with it. She kind of made my life a living hell.

But remember, I'm driven and notoriously impatient.

One day Kurt tossed a copy of Backstage at me. It was blatantly flipped to the open auditions section. My eyes found what he wanted me to see immediately.

Funny Girl Revival

Of course I went. I got a callback… and a second callback… then a third. Then one day, I was in that damn dance class watching someone get told to "pas de bourrée again" and I heard my phone going off. I never forget to put it on silent. Guess who started freaking out? I fumbled to get to it and when I did, I recognized the number. I remember this moment exactly. I calmly said to my professor, "I have to take this," and left the room with my phone. I answered with a nervous, "Hello?"

"Hi. Rachel?" a male voice that I knew was the director's asked.

"Yes?" my heart was pounding so hard I barely heard myself say it.

"I just wanted to call you to tell you that I'm sorry," he paused and my heart immediately sank into my stomach, "I'm sorry, but you might need to start working out a deal with Pace, because we're going to need a lot of your time. You're Fanny Brice."

And then I screamed. I screamed right into the phone and right into his ear but I didn't care because I got it! I got Fanny!

"So, do you accept?" I heard him chuckle.

"Yes! A million times yes!"

"Fantastic. First table should be in a couple weeks. Our stage manager will probably contact you later. Oh and we're going to have get you an Equity card so you'll be eligible. I can't wait to work with you, Rachel."

I said thank you and bye, then I went into the classroom where everyone watched as I grabbed my things and walked back out.

That's when my dreams started to come true.

Isn't it funny that you can have everything in your life going exactly the way you wanted it to and then in one moment, everything is derailed? It's hilarious really.

One second I was just signing Playbills and taking photos with the fans I've always wanted, thinking that everything in my life is perfect right now. I have more than I could have ever dreamed of at age nineteen. As I was walking away to go to my car, sitting on cloud nine, my entire world came crashing off of it.

I knew it was her before I saw her father. She wasn't even facing me but I could recognize that... her anywhere. And anytime, clearly.

Two years. Two years of working on myself to become the strong, self-driven woman I've always seen myself as and I couldn't even muster the courage to say her name. Besides, it would have been tremendously embarrassing for me if she knew that I could recognize her based on her legs and her ass. I needed to acknowledge them though and I could just say 'hello' to them, exchange some pleasantries, then get in my car and go home to Brooklyn.

But she turned around.

I can't fathom how it's possible, but she is even more gorgeous than she was in high school.

We've lived in the same city for over a year. It's been two years since everything ended. Why now? Why now when everything in my life has fallen into place so perfectly? Why is this the moment that Santana Lopez enters back into my life?

My real question is: Why do I want Santana Lopez to enter back into my life?

I knew she was checking me out. Actually, I think I could feel her checking me out. I wasn't wearing anything spectacular, just jeans and a t-shirt, but I felt her eyes move up and down my body nonetheless. I liked it and there was simply no stopping the smile that appeared on my face. And she was so nervous. She was nervous to the point where I felt better about being in the situation. That's why I invited them backstage.

I couldn't stop staring at her. I'd look at her when her eyes were trained somewhere else but whenever her head started to move, I'd snap mine away. I'm sure she caught me, but I couldn't help myself. Then her father left. Cris. I'd somehow forgotten how wonderful he is. I think I realized as he was saying goodbye to me that he was leaving for me just as much as he was leaving for Santana. He is a pretty decent wingman.

It was awkward, I'll admit that easily, but I didn't feel the need to get myself out of the situation. What was even better was that she could have left with her father, but she didn't. She stayed there with me. She stayed through the awkwardness until we weren't allowed to anymore. She's just so... different. I spent probably ten minutes with her and barely spoke to her, but I know she's different and I simply can't help that I'm drawn to her again. Part of me wishes that I wasn't, but the other part is the one that gave her my number. It's also the part that got giddy when she texted me that night. Like a sixteen year old girl.

Nineteen year old me needs to protect herself though and not get distracted when sixteen year old me gets excited that Santana texts something like "I'll text you tomorrow" because what if she doesn't?

Except she did and we actually made plans. They're being chaperoned of course by Kurt, but we still have plans. Today. Two days after our surprise reunion.

Everything about this is Kurt's plan. He thought that we should do something simple, something that would allow all of us to talk. It also needed to be in a place that was easy to get to... and get away from. He thought that a picnic dinner in Central Park was the perfect catching up activity for the three of us.

The plan is as follows: Tate, my driver, is bringing Kurt to meet me at the theatre. He's bringing the blanket and beverages. Initially, Kurt had offered to make dinner as well, but Santana insisted upon preparing it. Remembering how amazing her food always was, Kurt and I had no objections. I did inform her that eggs and milk are available ingredients as I've changed my diet to vegetarian. I do hope that it isn't difficult for her to carry whatever she's making on the subway... Anyways, I picked up some cupcakes on my way to work... which is a Broadway show... I'm still getting used to the fact that this is my job. The show's been running at about two hours and ten minutes plus the ten minute intermission, 2:05 start time and the ten minutes it takes me to make myself look normal, so I'm out of the theatre at about 4:35. Then we had to factor in ten to fifteen minutes of stage door time. We're meeting Santana at Sheep Meadow at 5:30.

We have about an hour and a half of daylight to decide if we want to spend more time with her. However, we don't have a plan for that other than if we do… spend more time with her, we have to give Tate the blanket and take the subway home. We're already keeping him late by having him wait until sunset.

"How'd it go today?" Kurt asks me as soon as my door is closed behind me.

"Great," I smile, "I think we're really starting to get things solidified."

"Wow! And you don't even open for another three weeks! Maybe they should bump it up," he laughs.

I know he's joking, but still, "Anything could happen Kurt."

"Oh, I know," he says it in this weird tone and I know that we aren't talking about Funny Girl anymore, "So, are you ready?"

"Are you?" I deflect his question back because even though I know he's being my caring best friend, he's being really queenie about it and quite honestly, it's gross. I think somehow Kurt's managed to get gayer since moving to New York. Not gayer in the sense that he likes men more, because what sense does that make, but gayer as in all of the stereotypes that we fight so hard against. But I digress.

"She didn't rip my heart out and leave me there to bleed to death," he says it somehow both seriously and full of melodrama.

"Alright, first of all," I hold up my hand at him, "that is far too graphic and second, I broke up with her, remember?"

"Right, after she tore your heart out," Kurt is clearly sticking with this.

"I really think you're using too harsh of a metaphor," I narrow my eyes at him. While yes, Santana did cause me a lot of pain, it was two years ago and I have since moved on. His need to rehash these past events is nothing but overly dramatic.

"I just… I don't want to see you hurt again," he finally says something with a genuine tone. "You know I'll always support you no matter what," I give him a look because that isn't entirely true, he didn't support my decision to drop out of Pace, "Okay, maybe not everything, but when it comes to your love life, I always have," that is true, "but I just want you to be careful."

"I've seen her one time, Kurt," I say it with the agitation I'm feeling. At what point did I say that I'm contemplating getting myself into a relationship with Santana? Oh that's right, I didn't. I failed to mention all of the parts indicating that I was terribly attracted to her for all of the ten minutes that we were together for this very reason.

"I saw your face when you got that text message," he says in his 'oh, please, honey' tone.

He's so lucky my phone is vibrating.

Santana:
Hey, just got off at 66th. I should be there in five. Can't wait to see you guys.

I wonder if she put 'guys' in there as an afterthought? I would have.

"It looked a lot like that," I hear him say in a very annoyingly satisfied tone.

He's caught me grinning with sheer glee over a seemingly meaningless text message.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, "I promise I am guarding my heart with all of the force that I have." I open my eyes and turn my head to him, "I've only seen her for ten minutes and you know as well as I do, that isn't enough time to make any decisions. Besides, I don't even know if that's what she's trying to do."

"But what if it is?"

"We're here, Miss Berry," Tate calls back to me from the front seat.

"Thanks, Tate!" I turn to the front seat but Kurt keeps his eyes trained on me. He isn't going to let me get away without answering this. I turn back to him and give him the answer that I gave myself when I asked the same question, "Then she has a lot of work to do."

"Okay," he says simply, then turns out of the car.

Tate won't open the door into the street so I have to slide across the seat to get out of the car. It leaves me feeling like my shirt is all disheveled so once I'm upright, I look down at and brush at it with my hands to make it feel right. It's just another of my many v-neck t-shirts. I've simplified my wardrobe a little bit, mostly just for after shows because after over two hours of wearing period clothing, I want nothing more than to be comfortable. And I might have worn this because someone seemed to like it the last time I saw her.

When I finally look up from my shirt, my eyes land on her. Of course they do. She isn't paying attention to what's going on in front of her, she's too busy looking at something on her phone. She looks pretty agitated by what she's looking at… and swiping at. And now she's pissed at her phone.

"Get your lip out from between your teeth before she sees you and thinks you're easy," Kurt bumps me with his hip, "and grab the bag from Tate."

I give him my best glare before going to the back of the car to take whatever drinks Kurt brought. "Thanks, Tate," I smile as he hands the bag to me.

"You're welcome, Miss Berry," he smiles and tips his hat at me.

It makes me laugh every time he does it, "You're never going to call me Rachel, are you?"

"Probably not, Miss Berry. Seven o'clock?"

"Yes, it's still a maybe on the ride, but yes. Thank you," I start to back up, back onto the sidewalk.

"It's my pleasure, Miss Berry," he smiles and waits for me to turn around before he walks to the driver's door. He always does. He also always waits for me to get into my apartment building before getting into his car, too. I feel like in a way he's also my bodyguard. He probably is and I just don't know it because I didn't hire him, my manager did. Yes, I have a manager… later.

"You look Candy Crushed," I hear Kurt call out.

"I fucking hate this game, but I keep playing it and it's so stupid! I don't know what's wrong with me," Santana nearly yells as she buries her phone into her pocket, then she smiles at him, "It's nice to see you, too, Lady Hummel."

"Feelings are mutual, Satan," he laughs and they one armed hug each other. They're both carrying things. Kurt has the oversized blanket and Santana has a picnic basket. Who actually has a picnic basket? Santana is probably the last person I'd ever think owned a picnic basket. Kurt is probably the first and he doesn't have one.

"Hi, Rachel," Santana smiles shyly at me once she's out from under Kurt's arm. This timidness that she keeps showing is so far from anything I know. It's actually really cute; not one of the words I would have used to describe Santana when we were together.

"Hi," I smile back her and out of pure instinct I initiate a hug. I couldn't have been thinking because I don't think I would have consciously chosen to put myself into something so awkward. I wish I could say that it's awkward because she only has one arm to hug me with or that the picnic basket got in the way or that we weren't sure which side to go to. It wasn't because of any of those things. It's awkward because we once had a sexual relationship. I know that sounds like a ridiculous and perhaps even juvenile conclusion to jump to, but I know it's true. I know it's true because simply hugging her brought me back to that. It reminded me that I knew her intimately.

Your sense of smell has the strongest connection to memory. I know I said that I could tell that she's different, but there's one thing about her that I know for sure hasn't changed: she smells the same.

I think I could have stayed there until the sun set and that is terrifying to me. That just the way her clothes and skin smell could yank at my heart so easily is exactly why I need to be cautious.

She breaks the hug just a millisecond before I can, but not before I hear that she's breathing with a slight heaviness. It only tugs at my heart even more.

"We're going to run out of sunlight," I fight through my own heavier breathing pattern and look between Santana and Kurt with a crooked smile.

"After you," Santana gestures for both Kurt and me to enter the park and after we've passed her, he gives me a look. I know what he wants to say to me, but I'm pretty sure I've already told myself.

Sheep Meadow isn't very far from the West 65th Street entrance of the Park and we get there in less than two minutes. It does take a little more time to find the perfect spot, however. I like this section of Central Park. It's just a huge open space and on a nice day like today, it's filled with New Yorkers just hanging out.

"So, whatcha got in there?" Kurt asks once we're all settled on the blanket. He brought the biggest one we have, the one that we had designated as the park blanket the first time we picnicked in CP… no one says that, I should just stop. Anyways, this blanket is huge, thankfully because it allows us to be spaced out enough that it isn't obvious that I don't want to be sitting too close to Santana. Not because I'm afraid she'll try something, that's ridiculous, but because, well, I don't think I trust myself.

"Well," Santana opens up her picnic basket, "fingers crossed that this is still warm and that you both still like this," she pulls out a decent sized container that she's wrapped in tin foil and upon unwrapping and de-lidding says, "eggplant parmesan. Made with real cheese." Her eyes move up from the container and catch mine. I can tell that she's looking for my approval and I might be jumping to conclusions here, which I'm sometimes really good at, but I think she's just answered the question of her intentions.

"That looks so good," Kurt basically moans as he leans forward to see inside of the container.

"It is," Santana assures him confidently.

"Still conceited I see," Kurt mumbles as he sits back into his place.

That was unnecessary, "Kurt, she wasn't-"

"Thanks Rach, but he's right, I was," she rolls her eyes at herself as she digs some plates out of the basket, "I try to reserve it for just my cooking now. It's really all I've got." She's laughing at herself. She just made a self deprecating joke and she laughing at it. And I don't think she heard herself call me Rach.

"You go to Columbia, I highly doubt that all you have going for you are your culinary skills," I scoff at her for selling herself short.

"Eh, cooking is more fun than pulling a 3.8 GPA, believe me," she chuckles handing Kurt a plate. If there's a tactful way of bragging, that's it.

"Santana, that's amazing," I can't let her just glide over that and because I'm so excited for her, I scoot towards her a little more.

"It's not that great," she rolls her eyes and cuts into a piece of eggplant on her plate, "it should be a little higher if I want to get into a first tier law school, but I just started my sophomore year, I have time." She smiles and shrugs then takes a bite of her eggplant.

"San, don't sell yourself short, a 3.8 after your freshman year is unbelievable. Most people are lucky if they get a 3.2!" I had a 3.2 at the end of my freshman year. One of the deciding factors in dropping out.

Did I just call her San?

"I… I um…"

"This is delicious," Kurt disrupts Santana's stuttering with a distracting compliment.

She shakes her head slightly then turns it to Kurt, "Thanks. What about you guys? You've been here since we graduated. Besides Broadway for this one," she throws her thumb in my direction, "what's life been like?"

"Well," Kurt turns on his gossip voice which is silly because none of what he's about to say is a secret, "I got an internship with working for the editor in chief-"

"That is actually perfect-"

"I know, right?" I jump in after Santana.

"Anyways," he purses his lips at me for a moment then continues, "It changed my life and instead of trying to get into AMDA again, I applied to the Fashion Institute and now I'm the star of my class."

"Alright, Lady Hummel! Now I know who's designing all of my badass lawyer suits," Santana says with a clap.

"While it isn't my area of expertise, I guess I could fashion some hot, boss bitch attire for you. I'm thinking, Olivia Pope with a power lesbian twist," he squints one of his eyes and holds up his fingers like a 'director.'

"You'd look hot in anything, though."

Did that just come out of my mouth? I'm really hoping that didn't actually leave my head and come spilling out all over this picnic. Based on the silence and the clear pink that I can see in Santana's cheeks through my side glance and in the dimming light, I'm going to say yes, yes I did say that out loud.

"Even if that's true I'm not putting you in a trash bag," Kurt comes to my rescue and even though it isn't the best deflection, Santana still laughs at it and all isn't lost.

Except a silence falls back over us. Silence gives us a chance to eat, but it also allows my eyes to wander onto Santana. I'm still fairly embarrassed over what I let slip out of my mouth, but I'm not sorry. I saw what it did to her and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see it again. She keeps looking over at me, too, but unlike the last time, she wants me to know it. It's making my stomach flutter and I know I like it, but I don't know if I should.

"So," she picks her head up from her plate and from the glances she's been sending to me, "Brooklyn, huh? Papá lives in Williamsburg."

"We're in Bushwick!" I respond excitedly because the neighborhoods are right next to each other.

"Oh, Papá is going to love that!" she laughs, "You guys are practically neighbors."

"How long has he been there?" Kurt asks because it's probably been a while that we've lived so close and have never seen him.

"Well, he had to be here in August of last year to start teaching at NYU, but he didn't find that place until the beginning of September-"

"Wait, so, you guys sold your house?" I ask and once it's out I realize it's a pretty dumb question.

"Yeah, we live here now, like for real," she smiles and shrugs, "I live up in Morningside by Columbia and he lives in Williamsburg. His place is much nicer than mine, but he pays most of the bills so it's only fair. What else would we have done with the house?"

"I don't know," I shake my head, "I guess I just wasn't making the right connections."

"Because our parents stayed in Ohio," Kurt makes the connection that I couldn't, but that's exactly it. If we go back there, the houses that we grew up in will still be there for us, she doesn't have that anymore. I guess for her though, her house didn't have the same kind of memories that ours do.

"Right."

"It's cool," she smiles a genuine… and gorgeous smile, "we're happy with this. It was like, a fresh start. I think we both really needed it. I feel like I belong here."

Right in this moment, my body is attempting to betray me. It is screaming at me to kiss her. My brain is aware of far too much for my body to get the best of it, however and I stay in my place on this blanket.

"We are rapidly running out of sunlight," Kurt's voice enters into my ears and I realize that he's right.

"Oh shit, it's ten minutes to seven," Santana says, glancing at her phone then upon putting it back in her pocket, starts cleaning things up. She pulls a plastic shopping bag from the picnic basket and puts all of our disposable eating materials into it. "You guys can have what's left of this," she says pointing to the container that is still half full of eggplant parmesan, "I actually have some still back at my apartment."

"Thanks!" Kurt says enthusiastically, grabbing the container and placing it on the grass temporarily.

"I'll be right back," Santana says backing away towards a trash can.

Kurt and I start to fold the blanket up and he wastes no time, "Really, Rach?"

"You know what?" I know what he's talking about already, "I don't care. So maybe she wants something? Maybe I want to see how things go? You were here. She's different and I can't help it if I want to… get to know her again." I actually feel my stomach flutter thinking about doing just that.

"Okay," he says lightly and nods, "Just, take things slow."

That's the complete opposite of how we started the first time and you know what, "That's exactly what I want." I look up from the folding the blanket and make eye contact with Santana as she's walking back to us. She smiles at me as soon as our eyes meet and I give one right back.

"This was fun," she says when she gets back to us.

"You know, this doesn't have to end," Kurt says for me as we start walking out of Sheep Meadow, reaffirming that he's supporting my decision, "We can tell Tate to beat it and find something else to do… preferably in doors and in some lights."

"As much as I would love to, I really can't," she looks genuinely disappointed, "Despite reading all day before cooking and coming here, I still have a ton more and a case analysis that I'm still not sure how to do. Believe me, I'd much rather be with you."

It's getting dark quickly, but I know she said that to me.

"It's okay, we can make more plans," I smile as we make it to the light of the sidewalk outside of the park.

"Perfect," she breathes out and our eyes linger on each other for a little too long. It's only too long because there's someone else here. If it were just two of us… actually, if it were just the two of us here, I don't think we'd still be standing this far apart.

"Well, it was fantastic catching up, Santana. We should definitely do this again," Kurt cuts into what was probably a very awkward moment for him.

"Definitely," Santana replies and gives him a hug.

She then turns back to me and softly asks, "I'll talk to you soon?"

For some reason all I can do is nod and then she's hugging me again. Again, there's that intoxicating scent that is Santana. I close my eyes this time and nearly drown in it. It takes almost everything I have to loosen myself away from her after Kurt clears his throat.

As we part ways, Santana walking up towards 66th Street and Kurt and I across the sidewalk to the car, we wave at each other. They're cute and simple and my stomach is fluttering again.

"Slow," Kurt warns me as Tate opens the door for us.

I look over the door and spot her crossing the street. I take a deep breath as waves of fear and exhilaration wash through me. Then once I'm in the car, I close my eyes and breathe out, "I know."

She has a lot of work to do.

A/N: For those of you that are worried about following this and it not getting finished: I'm writing the last chapter now. Don't worry, I'm way ahead of you. So just sit back and enjoy the ride.