School'n'Jobs
(Rachel)
I couldn't sleep. Images from a breathtakingly emotional night at Flea still were on my mind. There were two intense months of full house, some interviews and invitations for auditions. A pity that none of them was for better plays or companies. Always were people who came up to talk about a revolutionary project to be done in a theater as small as Flea, though less prestigious. There were even calls for alternative parts in pubs. I don't need to have an agent to refuse this kind of thing. The cast and crew celebrated the end of our season on a bar. Quinn, Mike and I stayed there until two in the morning even thought in the next morning we had to go to school.
Speaking of agents, I hadn't yet closed with one. I was inclined to integrate Ripley Actors Agency, running by the brothers Josh and Gary Ripley, if they accept me. The RAA was among the nominees on my mother's list and it had good Broadway artists as clients. Another option was the Springfield Agency, which was cheaper and less selective, although reputable.
Before thinking deeply about it, I needed to face another challenge in my life: new school. Quinn and I chose Ocean Hill High School. It had a median arts program: a marching band was the highlight along with the basketball team. Quinn also wasn't sure she could take advantage of the clubs because she needed work. Anyway, our education would continue.
The alarm went off Santana's cell. It was six in the morning. I could hear and understand from my bed my sister's lazy drive. Minutes later, she pulled my blanket off.
"Time to wake up." Santana's morning voice was hoarse and thicker than normal. "I don't care if you stayed out until dawn. It's time to study, little girl."
"I'm already awake!" In fact, I had barely dozed off.
Still in the dark room, I saw her move toward the bathroom. She had been accustomed to make the hygiene first of everyone. She also said it was safer and cleaner go first because of Mike's masturbation morning. Something he didn't confirm nor deny. Still on my bed, I heard the sounds of the apartment: unloading on the bathroom, doors opening, "good mornings", "coffee", steps. I sat on the bed and ran a hand through my hair. The bedroom door opened again.
"Still on the bed?" Santana opened the closet and quickly chose what to wear. The materials were organized from the previous day. She was looking forward to the first day of class at Stuyvesant after three weeks of "vacation", but didn't want to disclose it. "You know Quinn is another winding in the bathroom. You should wear something before wait your time."
I felt like a zombie. I got a skirt and a blouse and began to dress in silence along Santana. I heard more external noise, and this time a pleasant odor of coffee engulfed the small apartment. Mike!
"It's sucks!" Santana grumbled as she combed her hair.
"What?"
"You can go biking to your school, whereas I need to take the subway."
"Then go live in Manhattan..." I yawned.
"We've never took public transportation to study in Lima." Santana smiled.
"Truth. That's something new."
I proceeded to drag myself out of the room.
"Morning, Mike."
"Morning, Rach."
"The smell is great!" My room was the nearest from the kitchen, then Santana and I were always the firsts to feel the smell of food: the good and the bad ones.
"And when it isn't?" I raised an eyebrow. He had a good point there: Mike was the best cook of the house.
I follow dragging the shoes into the bathroom and did my daily needs. I brushed my teeth. So I left and ran into Quinn.
"Good morning, my lady!" She kissed me briefly. "You look like you didn't close your eyes."
"I only managed to doze off."
"You don't need go to school today."
"Oh, she will!" Santana said authoritarian.
"It's not you who decides things here, Satan!" Quinn replied.
"I don't decide for you, but I am the one who responds for her! The principal will call me if anything goes wrong. So how about you settle for your role of mere girlfriend once in your lifetime? It would be a great help!"
I felt that Quinn was dying to give Santana an answer, but I wasn't prepared to see more squabbles between these two, so I put my index finger on my girlfriend's lips and mute her with an authoritative gesture, but gentle. What Santana said was true: she was my 'guardian'. It was a dirty little blow my father did. He also could have emancipated me, but he refused, despite having allowed me to stay with Santana. It was a test, and at the same time, a punishment for Santana. Because of this, I made a pact with my sister: until our birthday, I would be a perfect human being.
"She has this pleasure to take me off!" Quinn stared at Santana, who has turned her back.
"I know that." I kissed her once more before breakfast. I urgently needed coffee.
"Johnny said he can get me a part-time job." Mike chatted casually with Santana, who smiled as he realized his friend was referring our small apartment like a true home.
"Don't you think they will renew the contracts?" Santana asked while serving coffee and eating cookies.
"I don't know. They said it'll have a meeting sometime this week. The play was a success, it would be stupid not to renew! Still, I need to get a job!" Mike finished his coffee. "I hate to mess around."
"I haven't had chance to think about it, but if all else fails, I will work as a dog walker or something." I said.
"Will you?" Santana joked me. "You hate dogs. I could never get one because of her." She explained to Mike.
"For God's sake, you want to have a killer dog in our house."
"Pitt Bull?" Mike guessed.
"Labrador! Rachel said I would train the dog to bite her. Imagine? Training a labrador to bite? A dog that guide blind people?" She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, she made a tragic scene and daddy rest the case."
"Well, I'll think on something." I said on defensive mode.
"Always have a bathroom to be clean." Santana smiled and then looked at the clock. "Time to go. Rachel don't forget..."
"Go to school, Santy. I'll do my part."
"Glad this phase is over for me." Mike smiled. "I won't remotely miss high school."
Santana got out and I still thought it was weird to see her dressed so behaved to fulfill the political dress conduct of Stuyvesant. Some minutes later, Quinn and I took our bikes to our new school.
The first impact has begun at the entrance: Quinn was one of the few natural blondes there and drew attention of those present. Cell phones and any electronics were forbidden inside the school and the student who was caught with it in the classroom would be suspended. I felt strange, as if I was entering a dangerous environment. It was so empty when I visited the school with my father. There were teenagers accustomed to the urban environment with all the virtues, including the dangers. Although I was living a little over three months in New York, I was still a naive rookie.
The first change from McKinley was the presence of a security guard in the doorway watching students pass the turnstile, which was another change from Lima. I took my ID card and passed it in the reading system to finally enter school. Then, I had to go through a drama: finding my new locker. Quinn and I were completely lost in those halls. The looks on us were also very uncomfortable. Unlike McKinley High, white people like Quinn weren't the majority. I still had Latin vein and I knew there was a small Jewish community in Ocean High as said the rabbi of the synagogue that Santana and I attending in our neighborhood. I thought that Quinn felt a bit like Mercedes Jones in Lima, where afro descendents and Latinos were minority.
"Mira por donde vás, bitch." the girl fired because of an involuntary bump of mine. Soon came some of her fellows as if they wanted to intimidate newcomers.
"Disculpe! Soy nueva y estoy perdida." I replied with a soft voice. The latina girl seemed a bit disarmed.
"Usted habla bien el español."
"Yo hablo los dos idiomas ." I reached out to greet them, but the girl just stared, so I decided to perform anyway. "Rachel Berry-Lopez. Esta é Quinn Fabray. Este es el noso primer año aquí."
"Lopez, heim? Donde su família és?"
"Do Chile!" I answered proudly.
"Camila Ortiz." She finally reached out to greet. "These are Amanda and Julie." Camila looked up and down, sizing us. "Then you are fresh meat."
"Apparently..." Quinn smiled through apprehensive. "And we need help." She said humbly.
"Did you found your lockers?" We sigh negative. "Well, considering you're one of us, I think we can help."
It wasn't that Ocean High School had segregated gangs. But yes there were some specific groups, like anywhere else. The school received many foreign students and developed a program to help immigrants learning English. It was common Latinos students become closer to each other and so on. This feature became clear to me early on, though it didn't interested me. I've never cares about ethnicities. Quinn didn't feel at ease, but she wasn't stupid to deny complimentary on the first day of school. And Camila was a good guide, despite her gang tics.
"I think this time you will learn Spanish." I made fun of Quinn a bit.
"I still prefer French." She rolled her eyes.
"And who speaks French today?"
"The French!" She hold my arm gently but firmly. "One day I'll take you to Paris, Lopez 2, and you'll know how it feels totally dependent on me!"
…
(Santana)
I looked at the imposing facade of the school entrance. Stuyvesant was beautiful and oppressive at the same time. Throughout summer term, the school didn't have a third of movement. Seeing it with all students was another story. Stuyvesant was a school that prioritized math studies, but it had a very good program of sports and arts. I chose to do sports. Swimming to be exact. I didn't want to try the competition team: I just wanted a way to have my pool on a few times a week.
I walked at the halls. It seemed I was invisible. Unlike McKinley, which I was virtually unique, Stuyvesant had incredible ethnic diversity, including the Asian population. The lobby was fabulous and I never failed to be impressed with the treadmill that gave access to classrooms. I had never seen one in a school until Stuyvesant. It was rich and grand. I couldn't help but feel small and intimidated. I was no longer the rebellious genius of Lima, Ohio. Here in Stuyvesant, I was just one of the hundreds others with equally great minds.
As I already knew the hallways, it wasn't hard to find my locker. But I had to walk a bit to get it in the middle of unfamiliar faces. It was weird not having Britttany waiting for me in the morning and go to classes with our pinkies connected. I checked the first period and the room. Mathematics of Financial Markets was the subject. When I would have a class like that in McKinley?
I would still applying Calculations, Advanced Algebra, Statistics, Economics, Microeconomics, Foreign Policy, Spanish Literature, beyond the compulsory subjects. In the other term, I could enroll in other subjects. The Ideal would be stay another year at Stuyvesant and enjoy the best that the school could offers, but I didn't want to delay my college time. I walked into a large clean classroom and picked up the last row of chairs only because it was close the window. The teacher came into the room wearing a suit. He put his coat on the chair and started spewing information. What a boring teacher. For a moment, my mind wandered far away.
"The young lady in the last row!" He said suddenly and I was startled. It took me a while to realize it was me. "May you come here and solve this study case?" I quickly read the touchscreen board (there was an analogical one on the side). It was a calculation problem of money and time. It took me a while to locate myself. "Or maybe you missed school, little girl? Perhaps, you aren't supposed to be here because you don't have the capacity to understand and thinks I am speaking Mandarin or Japanese, right?"
The teacher infuriated me. I hated when people underestimate me, especially when I identified a dash of ethnic prejudice. I got up and went to the front of the classroom. I avoided looking at colleagues or I would cower and run. It would be terrible for my reputation to do this on the first day. But I did looked at the teacher to be more motivate in that challenge. I read once more the case, and then I wrote the equation.
"How did you come into the equation?" The teacher was beside me, annoying me. "Explain aloud to show that you didn't memorize it from the book." I explained, as well as solve the rest of the calculation. So I handed the brush to the teacher and stared with my arms crossed. "See class. Apparently the young lady didn't miss school." Those jerks laughed.
"Perhaps you missed the school." I said as I turned my back to go back to my chair.
"Why don't you speak louder, miss sleepy, and I didn't allow you to sit down."
"Berry-Lopez. My name is Santana Berry-Lopez. Not miss Sleepy." I was back to the embarrassing position in front of the class. I hated that kind of arrogant teacher.
"Okay, Berry-Lopez. What did you say?"
"That perhaps you missed the school. And maybe you missed the time. Perhaps even regret that the cane has been prohibited for over 40 years."
"What we have here, class? A tough girl! Who knows? Maybe she belongs to a gang." He scorned me. "What do you think you deserves for your disrespect, Miss Berry-Lopez? Paddling is not an option. Halter maybe?"
"Just so I can put it on you and lead you to the stable." I shot and my classmates held their breaths. I went too far.
"Answer a teacher the way you did is a serious infraction and you could be suspended. But it is the first day and you seem dislocated, so I will be benevolent: you get detention for the rest of the week and I will make sure to revoke your right to leave the school at lunchtime. Congratulations miss Berry-Lopez, it was a beautiful way to usher your record." I sighed defeated and even felt like crying. It was only the first class of the first day, and I would have to spend an extra hour stuck in school doing homework. Unbelievable.
"May I sit down, sir?"
"Next time, avoid naps in my class."
At least the other teachers weren't so psychotic. But the year would be tough and I would have to study like hell. At the time of the lunch break, I could sworn that a smoke was coming out of my head. And I even had a detention ahead before rushing to work. Patience. I sat in one of several couches near the cafeteria and began to massage my temples. How they ached.
"It was an interesting class..." I looked up. A red-haired guy was standing in front of me. It looked like a Weasley. "Can I sit with you?"
"Sorry, but..."
"Paul McNeil" He reached out to greet me and I corresponded because I just didn't want to increase my enemies list so early in Stuyvesant. "As far as I know, we do Mathematics of Financial Markets and Calculations together."
"Oh!" I shook my head. I should be even apprehensive to not repair a red hair like him in the room.
"There aren't many who confront Mr. Collen and you practically called him a horse on the first day of class. By chance, do you want to be a legend?"
If I knew the fames of certain teachers, I would avoid trouble. It was bad enough to be a freshman-senior in high school. I bet a million as the Weasley McNeil had been at Stuyvesant since the begging.
"They're saying that your detention for a week was the fastest anyone had ever got here."
"It's far from my intention. I looked better at the Weasley boy. He was cute. "Santana Berry-Lopez, by the way."
"I know!" Paul smiled. "Half the school already knows who you are, Lopez."
"It was that incredible?"
"You bet." Paul winked. "So... It's your first year here, right?"
"Yeah, but I've done the summer term. Anyway, I came transferred from a school in Ohio."
"A known one?"
"Far from it..." I smiled again from my own peculiar condition. "But tell me, Weasley, what do you do here but killing yourself studying?"
…
(Rachel)
The school day was tiring. I never thought I could definitely do much homework only on the first day, and, for the first time, I thanked by the "Songbook" season to be over. Quinn and I took our bikes and went home. It was a surprise not finding anyone. I knew Santana was at in Weiz, but I hoped that Mike was at home doing a wonderful meal. The empty house also brought other ideas. Quinn smiled and hugged me as she realized we were alone. Then she kissed me in a way that made me understand very well what she wanted.
"We could use the house to ourselves." Quinn kissed me.
"I'm tired."
"It will help you to relax and sleep better."
"Okay… to your room."
"Why not in yours?" Quinn had an evil smile on her face.
"I won't dishonor the agreement I made with my sister, Quinn. Do you want sex? Let's go to your room."
I didn't understand why want Quinn so much to have sex in my bedroom. Since our relationship became sexual, she insisted on performing this fantasy even though my agreement with my sister to respect that space. Actually, I think she really wanted to annoy Santana, who still wasn't comfortable with the idea that Quinn and I were doing it. And my sister was living a period of sexual abstinence. Since we left Lima, she hadn't fooling around with anyone else, what I felt healthy to a point. So, In the name of peace at home, I wouldn't give to Quinn's wishes. Nor I would meet Quinn's supplications all the time she wanted.
"Wait." I interrupted our making out session for a bit. "The warning."
"Mike never remembers to put the warning when he brings Angela here."
"But we're not Mike. Let's be an example."
I put the warning on the front door to Quinn's chagrin. So I went back into my girlfriends arms and we went towards her room. We closed the door, took off our clothes and a few more minutes, Quinn's fingers were inside me, and I put mines inside her. She was right: it did help me to relax.
When I decided to take a bath after a post-orgasm nap, I found the house full. I was so embarrassed to face the stares of Angela, Mike, Johnny and Santana. I didn't think they heard something, but they sure knew what Quinn and I were doing.
"Dinner in 15 minutes!" Mike said with a smirk and I began to think that the idea of putting a warning on the door was stupid.
I gave up taking a bath with Quinn.
"Wow" I said when Mike served the meal: risotto with dried tomatoes and spices, plus salad: the one of few vegetarian meal that nobody complain about. "Are we celebrating any special reason?"
"I got a part in an off-Broadway production and, to celebrate, my boyfriend decided to offer me a dinner." Angela and Mike exchanged a kiss. "You guys are just lucky to live here..."
"This is... fabulous." I tried to hide my envy. "Congratulations, Angel. This is... amazing."
"It's a supporting part, but it's good to keep working now that our contract ended with R&J."
That reminded me that I, Quinn and Mike were unemployed from that day. I knew from Mike that Angela had an audition, but I had no idea it was for an off-Broadway play. She wasn't a good singer, as she demonstrated in the days when she replaced Mary Stein, but she had a great stage presence. Well, she was a very beautiful woman, daughter of Afro-American mother and German father. She did some modeling, nothing relevant, but whether she wanted to be an actress.
"What part did you get?" Quinn asked.
"That was for the adaptation of 'Wonder Boys'. I won the part of Hanna Green."
"I read this book." Quinn poured a good portion of risotto. "The characters spend most of the time or drunk or drugged, not to mention that the side kick is a confusing literary genius."
"Confused?" I asked. I haven't read the book.
"He's gay, but he doesn't know for sure, and he has suicidal tendencies. But it's a nice book. Great even. Don't forget to send some tickets for us, Angel."
"Of course Angel is not the only one celebrating." Johnny opened the beer bottles and distributed to us, except for Quinn, because she didn't like it and I found quite amazing that he remembered. "Mike also landed a gig."
"Oh yeah!" Mike smiled-no way. "Johnny helped me get a delivering job. It will give me some money for the rent until I tidy something else."
"Mike will be like Joseph Gordon-Levitt in Premium Rush. This is super-cool." Johnny smiled.
Pretty soon Mike would get a tattoo in this studio that Johnny works. I liked our pothead friend, but he was older than us, he was almost 24, and kept unsavory habits. I didn't think healthy to let him in so much in our lives, especially because Santana had tried marijuana once in London and it made me afraid of her start using it for real. Johnny could influence her, even though he never offered anything to any of us apart the beers. Quinn also didn't trust Johnny, but Santana and Mike were cool with him. And I had to admit that Johnny was quite helpful in some emergencies, like that day he fixed the kitchen sink.
"So how was your day at school?" I asked my sister.
"Nothing special. I just got a detention for the rest of the week and apparently, my rights to leave school at lunchtime were revoked."
"What have you done?" Quinn said.
"It's just a teacher who didn't like me."
"But you must have done something." I insisted.
"The teacher involved with me, that's all!" I rolled my eyes. Knowing his sister, at least she provoked. "How was your school day?" She returned the question for me.
"Interesting!" I merely say.
"Apparently your sister will be part of a Latino girls gang." Quinn shrugged.
"That's sexy!" Mike smiled and received approval from Santana.
"Maybe I'll get a codename!" I said with the clear purpose of provoking my prejudiced girlfriend. "Maybe I'll spend the night out at a bar hopping with the chicas and only come home slurred from drinking."
"I don't believe what I'm hearing!" Quinn grimaced.
"Rachel will wear red scarves and Quinn will turn on those bitches with huge silicon breast." Santana took a slap on the arm given by Quinn, but she wasn't intimidated. "I would give a million dollars to see that scene." She began to laugh and spread throughout the environment. Only Quinn remained serious.
The dinner continued relaxed. Santana and Quinn washed and dried the dishes, I was doing homework, Mike and Angela began to watch TV, and Johnny went away to his house. Anyway: routine. Quinn kissed before I went to my room. Inside, Santana was making her bed to sleep. She sent a message on her cell before bedtime, as I put my pajamas to sleep.
"Sexy gangsta bitch!" Santana sparked when I turned off the lamp.
"Shut up!"
"If I manage your illegal activities, I want 20% of the profits!"
"Shut up!"
And we slept between teasing and giggling.
…
(Quinn)
The R&J was known by the tradition on making plays and musicals with appeal among young people. The average age of Songbook's audience, for example, was between 18 to 30 years. I had no idea, but this was one of the reasons for which the producer bothered to reveal new actors. Young Hollywood stars were very expensive and they not always had good performance on stage, despite attracting the box office. It would be a good investment if the R&J to put together a show for the big theaters, but they prefer off-Broadway theaters where their plays could stay for one or two seasons. That was the Songbook's cast hope, especially Rachel.
The freelancer work taking pictures at barbecues from wealthy families yielded more money than being a slave to R&J. On the other hand, stay in the R&J was more fun than pointing my camera at people who loves social columns. That was why I had some expectation the possibility of being a slave to R&J for another season at least.
"Hi Quinn." Lori greeted me at the entrance of the office.
It was a well decorated place with a few permanent employees. I knew Lori, Amy, Gabriela, and Brian, who was in charge of the company warehouse in the Bronx where it was stored and cataloged the memory of the plays, such as costumes, files and parts of scenario that could be reused. There was also a man responsible for the legal stuff, one that kept the books, and the intern who ran the website. Besides, of course, Roger Benz and James Golvi, the owners. Everything else was hired by production.
"Gabriela called me to come here and talk with Roger."
"Yeah, I know." Lori seemed to be the eyes and ears of that place. "The boys..." as she referred to the chiefs, "are in a meeting right now. It seems that they have managed to acquire the rights to adapt a film to Broadway and now they will talk to sponsors to fund the project and everything."
"That means Songbook is dead and buried?"
"Only they know, girl."
I waited. I ran from school to the office just to talk to the heads after Gabriela's call. Maybe it's something important. I spent time on my cell phone talking to Rachel and Mercedes. My girlfriend was at home doing schoolwork, while Mercedes said there were auditions to recompose the choir. Blaine obviously became the star of the group and Finn was put aside, now that he no longer had Rachel's support. Honestly? This kind of drama was tedious.
I waited one hour, when I saw Roger leave the office smiling to a lady and two men. I believe that the conversation has been great. James left the office with some papers in hand and he seemed very pleased as well. Whatever it was, it seemed to be positive for the producers.
"Fabray." Roger greeted. "Did you wait long?"
"No, I didn't."
"Right. Lori, close my schedule for today. I'll just talk to Fabray and then I'll leave." He motioned to follow him to the office.
I sat in the chair and felt intimidated. The office was normal, with posters of plays on the wall and other objects. It was the first time I went there in three months I've worked for R&J. Roger seemed rushed, but satisfied.
"I wish that Gabriela was here, but she had to go to the doctor or something. Anyway, I don't know if she talked to you what our meeting is for."
"She called and said that whatever you say, I should accept." Roger smiled and joked a bit with the anti-stress ball.
"You know Gabriela works too much to make our plays on the tracks. She was the person I trust the most in this company, more than my own partner. But she is getting tired, especially because next year this company will have two productions in progress. We both talked about hiring an assistant to work directly with her, one that could have a global vision of the plays, not only the one it was hired for. Gaby said she liked a lot your commitment, that you helped a lot in Songbook."
"Are you offering me a job?"
"Looks like I am." Roger smiled.
"But... is that... my classes started and I can't work full time anymore. As tempting as it is, I need my degree."
"You can work part time and still receive a better salary and benefits. We'll come back with Songbook to a six months run in an off-Broadway theater and we will start producing another play to debut in the second half of the year. This one will be great: we'll get a big theater. Gabriela is panicking, you know? She needs someone to work directly with her and you are the first option. So?"
"Is Songbook going back with the same cast?"
"We'll have to move one or two pieces. But don't worry. Chang and Lopez will continue if they agree to sign pre-contract, of course. I'll talk about this at the meeting with the cast. At the most, what do you say?"
"I will obey my boss and take the job."
"I'm the boss, Fabray. And I'm glad that you have joined the team. "
Rachel was going to freak out with the news. I couldn't wait to talk to her. I left the office with renewed spirit. It was as if I could stop just surviving in New York to be able to live a little more with security and stability.