Spring in NYC

(Santana)

Spring is a magical season. Central Park is green and flowered again and becomes the ideal place for a series of small music festivals and other cultural events that the local population could enjoy. New York lit up in a different way this time of year: the city was more fun and humorous. Especially after a harsh winter we faced.

I entered the site and read the cultural agenda. There was a good schedule for the day, like that free Norah Jones show in Central Park, plus smaller local bands. It was awesome and, therefore, there would be a crowd. But you could always see everything at a good distance and with more comfort. I called my sister and friends: we needed to go to Manhattan.

Mike was single. Angela was too busy with her play and Mike still had Songbook. These two barely met so they broke up with no major dramas. Nevertheless, they still are friends and Angela calls us occasionally. She's cool. My sister did her last performance in "Songbook" a few weeks ago. Roger Benz wanted to renew contracts and the cast for another season and, this time, Rachel was out. But he asked her to do an audition for a bigger musical play the R&J was producing. I hope she get it. Meanwhile, my sister was negotiating to be represented by an agent. The guy was good but he said Rachel must have professional record to be his client. Mike already had one with less reputation. Good for him. Meanwhile, I continued my Weiz-Stuyvesant routine and had a little romance with Paul just to relax.

I smiled when I saw my now boyfriend beside Johnny and Johnny's new girlfriend, Alana, at the bus station: our meeting place before went to the Central Park. Paul kissed me, then we all walked to Norah Jones concert. The place was crowned: who would be silly to not enjoying a beautiful day, sunny and hot? Not to mention the good music.

We found a good place where you could see the stage, hear the songs well and even extend our towels to lie down without being trampled. Many couples and groups of friends did the same. There were even people wearing bikini. I shook my head in disbelief. It was warm, but not too hot as to use it. On the other hand, I knew it was my Ohio provincial heat talking. I shook my head again: I was living in NYC for almost a year, for God sake. Let the bikini girl be.

The music was great. Sometimes I pulled Paul to the crowd where we danced a bit and kiss without constraining the other couples and Mike. Not that I care, but Paul was a more restrained, which was good in a school like Stuyvesant, but not so much outside it. Above all, I was having a bit of fun.

During the show of a local indie folk band, I sat between Paul's legs and leaned my back against his chest. It was cozy. Quinn was sitting at our side watching the crowd, or, more specifically, Rachel and Johnny dancing like happy idiots. Alana didn't seem to like the scene. You know what? I didn't care. It was too funny seeing my sister and one of my best friends behaving like dorks: adorable ones. Mike was lying on a towel immediately beside Quinn, with his hands behind his head acting as a pillow and a baseball cap over his face from the sun.

"How did you find that guy again?" Paul asked me audible enough to be heard by Quinn.

"In Laundry." I answered drought. I didn't like the tone that Paul was referring to Johnny. It was as if my boyfriend wanted to debunk my friend as if he was some kind of threat.

"Something wrong with Johnny, Weasley?" Quinn muttered. She wasn't Johnny's biggest fan, but she considered him as part of the "pack". Paul was the intruder, despite dating me. Quinn could say barbarities about any of us, but no outsider could say the same without listen a harsh reply.

"It's that he has nothing to do with you guys. He's so much older to begin!" Paul insisted.

"That's why he is our master Miyagi: he showed us how survive in New York." I was smiling in the corner of my face as I heard Quinn. "He taught us the first's streets katas. Wax on, right hand, wax off, left hand." Quinn started gesturing and I and Mike laughed. "Breathe in through nose, out the mouth. Wax on, wax off. Do not forget to breathe, very important." Perfect Quinn! Just, perfect!

"I don't believe you are quoting Karate Kid." Paul frowned.

"You know ... the Jedi Academy is too hierarchical. And Johnny doesn't look like Yoda." I said.

"And he looks like Miyagi?" Mike shouted.

"No, but he is able to catch a fly with his hands! It's disgusting, I know. But I saw him doing it once." True story. Last summer, we were in a nasty diner in Long Beach, drinking a coke, when he did it. We were visiting Long Beach for the first time. It was an amazing day when Johnny caught a fly and Mike earned some dollars dancing in the sidewalk.

Quinn laughed out as we talked. When she did it, she throw her head back and her jaw line got more evident. Her skin was slightly red because she was so white that her skin didn't resist too much of sun exposure, despite the hat and the sunglasses. I looked at my light brown skin. Yeah, I was lucky.

I must say that our group was particularly attractive: I was a hot stuff, Paul wasn't that bad, Quinn was annoyingly beautiful, Mike was wearing that shirt tank top that showed his infamous abs, Rachel no longer wore her horrible clothes as often. Johnny? I'm sure he was very handsome man beneath the beard and big hair. Alana, his girlfriend, was a beautiful black woman, slim and elegant. How he managed to tap it, I had no idea.

"That's it, Mike! Show a little more your six pack abs." Quinn smiled at Mike, who was confused. And so did I. "Girl keeps staring at you, 9 o'clock."

We looked in the direction we found a group of three girls that was staring at us: in particular the brunette with a beautiful smile and indecently low-cut blouse. You could see that she had a large tattoo on her back, but who she was interested in was a mystery. Quinn just supposed the reason was Mike.

"Go there!" I encouraged, more because I was curious. "Lift up your shirt and takes the girl home... I mean... don't take the girl home, ok? I have schoolwork to do."

"What? That financial markets research?" Paul asked.

"I've already done that. I'm talking about that one of Spanish literature."

"What author chose?"

"Arturo Perez-Reverte."

"Don't you think he is too popular?"

"I know, but he's a good kind of popular. The research he does is fantastic. He spent years and years studying about nautical and seafaring history in order to write the Captain Alatriste series. He has enough credit."

"How can you think of a school today?" Mike said sincerely admired. I don't blame him. The matter was even out of place.

"Stuyvesant soaks us in a bit." Paul always sounded arrogant when the subject came up. I had to roll my eyes at his comment. He was right, but not his tone.

"You should go there!" Quinn nudged Mike. "That girl is practically undressing you with her eyes."

Mike smiled and winked at us. He stood up in a phenomenal way that his shaped dancer body allowed and walked to the girls.

"I bet ten he will get some." I said.

"I bet ten he doesn't get." Paul challenged me.

We are anxious to see what happened. Mike was there, then sat and chatted with the tattooed brunette. The two said some words and seemed to get along. I could ever even imagine Paul's face when he would pay me ten dollars. He kind of loses all bets we made. Suddenly, an unusual thing happened. A tattooed brunette stood up and headed toward my sister. She began dancing around her, as if she wanted to win her. Immediately I looked at Quinn, who was biting her lower lip. She got up, went straight to Rachel and hugged her from behind. Quinn kissed her neck as if to make it clear that Rachel belonged to her and stared at the brunette, who was suspicious and walked away. Mike was smiling. What the hell happened?

A short time later, Mike returned smiling with the girl's phone number.

"She wanted Quinn. I said she was taken by Rachel, but the girl didn't believe me. Well, she didn't think Rachel was that attractive to have Quinn as her girlfriend. So, I proposed a challenge to show her I wasn't lying." He smiled at us.

"This challenge will make you lead a stranger to our home?"

"I don't know, Lopez. That will depend if I play the cards well."

Mike did play right when he went out with the girl on a date. But it was only a one night stand. The first of many he would have.

…

Graduation Day

(Santana)

I woke up doing Paul's chest as pillow. We had sex after our prom and it was kind of nice. The sex, I mean. The prom committee managed to get a great Nightclub. It was a different experience than the prosaic proms style. You know: that kind that has a band playing on a stage in the school gym while the girls dance with elegant dresses and the boys wear suits. Stuyvesant was another story: the prom was made in an awesome nightclub. Instead of pompous dresses, we wear clothes for nightclub to enjoy the party. Instead of a band or the choir singing, we had an awesome and expensive DJ. Only the absence of alcoholic beverages remained the same. The bar was closed, but we brought vodka and whisky in small bottles and there wasn't a Sue Sylvester to check the students. It was magical and different. Everybody drank a little and dance a lot.

The icing on the cake was when they announced the prom queen: I was surprised by won. I didn't campaigned for homecoming queen at Stuyvesant, still, I become one of the popular girls at school being myself: no deal with cheerios or making plans for social climbing. I was chosen by my good academic performance, my rebel behavior that made me being suspended twice for indiscipline, because I was accept at Harvard, and also because I was sexy as hell. See? I was the perfect prom queen. The glory! The moment was even better because people I loved most in that city were present. Quinn, Rachel and Mike came along with me as my guests (and I had to pay extra money to get their tickets because each student could have a plus one).

At the end of the night, my boyfriend and I left our friends and went to the hotel room where we ended the celebrations. It was almost epic. I had to instruct Paul to use his tongue in the right places and he had to give me an orgasm before I allowed him to put his dick in. That's the way I found to enjoy sex with a guy that didn't last that much. Paul wasn't as ridiculous as Finn Hudson, but wasn't as good as Noah Puckerman. At least, I cared about Paul: he was a great friend in a school that you hardly make one.

Like me, Paul was accepted in top universities. He chose MIT and I would have to go to Harvard, although I prefer Columbia. So, we were planning to live together in Cambridge. Papi didn't like the idea, but at that point, he didn't meddle. Zaide was the one who would pay for my college and he cared little about whom I divide the roof. All he cared about was Harvard.

"What time is it?" Paul murmured.

I rolled to the side of the bed and picked up my cell phone.

"A quarter to eleven!"

"We slept all this?"

"Yeah! What time we had to check out?"

"At noon." He looked mischievous. "I'd pay another daily rate to stay with you." He smiled and kissed me.

"Tempting, but not today!" I pulled away gently.

"Why not?" Paul muttered.

"Dinner with my parents. They are coming to the city today for my graduation. You know, they lost Rachel's last week and they want to make up. So, I am going home to wait for them." Then I smiled maliciously to my boyfriend. "Ready to meet my father?"

"Your father will love me I can assure you!" He kissed me again. "Do you think we have time for a quicky in the shower?" He suggested.

"Maybe."

"Can I put in?"

"No. I'm not on pill and we don't have more condoms."

"What about a blowjob."

"No."

"Handjob while I finger you?"

"Deal."

"Let's go."

…

(Rachel)

I was shocked when I saw the clock. It was almost noon and I was still in bed with Quinn embracing me, which she seemed dead to the world. I was so guilty about of intense physical activities the night before. I looked at the room: my room. I panicked! Quinn was evil: she made me finally breaking the agreement I had with my sister to not have sex in our room. And Santana made her part so far. I hate that I was the one who was breaking all the deals. I've never been like that.

We all went to Santana's prom last night. My sister left the party with Paul because they were going to have a special night or something in a fancy hotel room. Mike didn't come home and Quinn and I had the house to ourselves. I was tipsy and Quinn was on fire. Anyway, we entered the first room, mine, to have sex. After our first orgasm at night, Quinn suggested to try a new position to have simultaneous climaxes. Since then, all we had tried was the basic lesbian love maker: fingers and tongue in normal positions. And I was satisfied with that, but Quinn wanted something a little different. We tried 69 position but it didn't work so well. My fault: Quinn was below me, eating me so good, that I couldn't do my part properly. I just stopped to scream her name before she had a chance. Then, I tried to scissored and it worked better as our clits and vaginas were well aroused. I love it. For real. God, we had sex until we passed out. My bed was all wet that I could get flu.

Of course I wasn't sorry despite I had broken the deal. I had a wonderful night, after all. It was a good way to end a week of results and victories. Santana graduated and was going to Harvard, we survived our first year living alone in New York, Quinn got a scholarship to NYU. My girl had all merit. She was provided with recommendation letters from James Golvi, Roger Benz and also two more renowned producers. Then, she was able to prove that she had an income below the minimum and didn't receive any help from her parents. The NYU accepted the request and my girl now had permission to study Cinema in one of the most coveted universities in the world. I was so proud of her.

I did an audition for the stage adaptation of "Across The Universe", and I was negotiating before closing the contract and begin rehearsals. Roger and I were talking and I asked him to wait until I reached my registry of professional actor. I had urgency on that. As an amateur, I was unable to negotiate a better salary and I would be the only non-professional actor in the play. It wouldn't be fair. I was also accepted into the American Musical & Dramatic Academy to try a two-year course in musical theater, and my father would pay it.

But it was time to get up. I knew my sister, she would make a scandal if she found us there, nude, if our room smelling sex. And she would be right to be mad. I looked at my girlfriend. Quinn was so beautiful and so peaceful. I loved her so much. I sighed sorry to wake her

"Quinn!" I shake her unceremoniously. I received a growl as answer. "Quinn!"

"What?" She groggily replied. "Is the world ending?"

"No... but it's already noon!"

"So what?" She pulled the blanket over her head.

"Quinn, takes a look and see where you are!"

Quinn opened her eyes and smiled silly. I only had clue about what she thought when I felt her lips on my nipples. It was so good, but we didn't have time.

"Quinn!" I freed myself and I stood up looking for some clothes.

"Stop saying my name in the wrong way. Come here and I'll make you scream in right way, you know, with an ongoing orgasm."

"It's noon, you're in my room, and my sister can come in any moment."

"She is in a hotel with her boyfriend doing stuff we should also do." Quinn sat up in bed almost by default. She began to rub her eyes.

"Still, we need to pack. Either you forgot that in two days we are going to Barcelona?"

"Haven't you packed yours?"

"Mine is ready, but yours aren't."

Grumbling, Quinn got up left the room completely nude, leaving behind some pieces of her clothes, while I finished getting dressed. I took Quinn's dirty clothes out of the floor, opened the window to refresh the air and ease the sex smelling. Then I realized: we didn't have sex in my bed. Shit, shit, shit! My sister would kill me if she found out that I had sex all night with Quinn in her bed. I panic for a second, then I took of the wet sheet and made her bed with perfection, with clean new sheets and everything.

"Mike is not here..." Quinn commented already fully dressed.

"Don't you remember? He was too excited about that girl... I just hope she is 18 years at least and they have used protection." I continued the cleaning. "Do you have some laundry?"

"It's not laundry day."

"Yes it is thanks to you."

"Me? Why?"

"Not only you induced me to have sex in my room, but also you made me have sex in Santana's bed! Now I have to wash the sheets!"

I was defeated when Quinn laughed out triumphant. She was so gorgeous and also evil. Her and Santana's rivalry sometimes made me nuts. Still, we must do the laundry because Mike was too lazy to wash clothes and clean the kitchen. That's why we need to leave everything as cleaner as possible.

At the same time we heard the front door opening. It was Santana.

"Oh my legs!" She complained as she entered our room.

"Great night?" Quinn asked.

"Great prom… and high heels." Santana leaned down and kissed my head before throwing herself on the bed. I held my breath and Quinn ran out. I was praying for she didn't smell sex in our room. "I'm starving."

"Paul didn't pay any meal?"

"He did pay the cab… why are doing the laundry today?"

"We are traveling in two days and we need to leave our home clean."

"Good. Just take my dirty clothes in the chair."

"Of course." I smiled and tried to push her out of our room. "Why don't you fix our lunch? Quinn and I also didn't eat anything yet."

"Great night?"

"It's not your business."

"So… Frozen food?"

"Anything you want to do."

Santana wasn't buying my excuses, I felt it.

"Righ. I will fix the lunch and pretend that sheet on the floor was in Quinn's bed."

"I…"

"Yeah, and now you owe me a big one."

…

(Santana)

"What's up, prom queen?" Mike surprised me while I was eating my lasagna and tomato salad from yesterday.

"Did you sleep out?" Paul and I were the first to leave shortly after my prom queen's crowning.

"It wasn't in my plans, but I slept out, yes!"

"That explains little things." I muttered.

It was obvious that Rachel and Quinn took advantage of our absence to had sex in the whole house, including my room. I could smell it when I walked in. I wasn't that upset because my sister had sex in our room, but she was breaking some of our deals lately and that's what pissed me off the most. Of course I was glad to see my sister becoming an independent growing up beautiful woman. On the other hand, I kind of liked to take care of her to make up all the time I neglected her at McKinley. She was my 29 minutes little sis after all.

I noticed the correspondence in Mike's hand

"What do you have?" I pointed.

Mike separated two envelopes for me. One had Columbia's seal. My heart was pounding. I made a request for a full scholarship when I made my application. Then, I opened quickly because I didn't like to prolong anxiety and suffering, and read the content.

"What?" Mike was curious.

"Columbia denied my scholarship request..."

"Aren't you going to Harvard?"

"Now more than ever..."

"What were you planning?"

"In staying. Papi can't pay for two expensive colleges at the same time. The deal was that zaide would pay my college and papi would pay Rachel's. But zaide would never accept any other option but Harvard, understand? It is his dream since he never could go to the college and daddy chose Botany."

"Are you going to study economics and business because of him?" Mike was serious.

"No. Not at all. I little, maybe, yes. It's something I would like to do. While I was at the Glee Club, after being a soloist in Sectional, I thought that all I wanted was be famous as an actress or a singer. I understand my sister: applauses can be addictive. I don't know. Stuyvesant gave me some focus and I realize that I could help arts in other way. You can't do a play without money. I know I can sing and act, but money and math are my real things."

"There are other ways of getting the scholarship?"

"There are scholarships contests sometimes to benefit foreign students only, or to benefit students in master's or doctorate degree. Anyway, I would have to pay for some time until I found a scholarship contest in which I could do in Columbia." I was frustrated and started to tear the letter. "Look, don't tell anybody, ok? Especially Rachel!"

Mike closed his mouth with an imaginary zipper. I knew he would keep his promise for two or three days. Anyway, I'd be the way to Spain in a few days and Mike wouldn't have a chance to fail with his promise. Papi and Shelby decided to give us a graduation trip to Madrid and Barcelona. Gift with ulterior motives because they decided to go with us. After Spain, I would go back to New York to pack my stuffs and then go to Massachusetts.

Rachel returned from the public laundry and soon was spying the kitchen. Quinn stayed, waiting the machines do their jobs for coins.

"Papi called?" she asked.

"Not yet!" Rachel was separating her own envelops and became interested in one in particular. She opened it and then shouted. "My professional record is out!" Rachel showed the paper. "Now, I'm a professional actress!"

Despite my disappointment at Columbia, I was happy for my sister. I swear. I hugged her tightly and said tender words in Rachel's ear.

We spent the rest of the afternoon organizing small things for the trip. My parents called saying they were already at the hotel and we should meet for dinner. I felt great that my parents weren't the type that stays in the house and criticized our spaces, jobs and relationships.

…

Paul just beeped at seven thirty. He was always punctual. He would drive all us four to the restaurant where we were meeting my parents. We arrived in time to the charming Joanna's Restaurant in Upper West Side - which had a menu able to please Greeks and Trojans, as well as being highly recommended in city guides. Johnny was there and I gaped at his transformation. He had cut his hair. His face, before hidden by beard and curls, was now shaved and bright. His green eyes were highlighted with elegant red shirt. He was clean, and the God, Johnny was a handsome man.

"Hey beautiful girls!" Johnny approached us to give a hug and a rose for each one. "Congratulations! Now you all survived high school."

"Sorry, but I don't know you." I smiled and winked. Johnny was shy.

"I decided to change a little bit to cause a good impression on mama and papa. And sorry again I couldn't go to your prom." He smiled and turned to my boyfriend. "Hello, Paul."

"Hey John." He answered seriously, seemed jealous.

"Rachel!" Johnny let out a shriek that was affected whenever he met my sister again as a way to make fun of her face. She screamed his name with the same intonation. The two embraced once more. "Hey Mike, lil bro." Mike and he then greeted like two bros.

"My parents arrived?" I asked.

"That I can't tell, and I didn't see any grow woman who looks like Rachel." Johnny has shy again. Then I remembered: he didn't know my parents in person. "And Rach, there is a piano bar in this restaurant then you could sing. I miss your beautiful voice!"

"You are charming, Johnny... and watch out or Quinn will be jealous!" Rachel warned and laughed.

"Quinn is right to take care of that beauty. The Berry-Lopez sisters are the most desirable girls of this city."

"Too bad they are both taken?" Paul scoffed.

"Still, I can have these great friends."

We entered the restaurant together. My parents were there, but Beth - the two year old girl was in the hotel with a babysitter. Papi greeted Paul politely, but virtually ignored him by the rest of the night. Shelby seemed more interested in knowing my boyfriend, or at least she tried to be more friendly. Moreover, Paul didn't fit. He was fine when he was alone with me, or at most, talking to Rachel. Even with Johnny was more at ease with my parents and he did understood all of our inside jokes. The laughter was loud and Paul just didn't understand. Maybe that wasn't his place. Maybe I should not stay with him.

…

The other day, in the morning, the rush was stressed in the apartment. Shelby and papi parked two cars in the street we lived in Brooklyn. In the meantime, we hurried to breakfast and the bathroom. We got in the car a little late toward Stuyvesant. I had to jump out of the car and run along my colleagues as I buttoned my gown. It was worth. My heart raced as the master of ceremonies said: "Santana Berry-Lopez."

I walk slowly tried to find my parents. They stood side by side, and I could see that Papi was crying. He can't go to Rachel and Quinn's graduation, and I was sure he was thrilled for both of us. I made an effort to not cry too, having my degree.

After taking photos with my family and close friends, beyond traditional poses with the entire class, the time has come to say goodbye. Paul wanted to introduce his parents, and as much as I wanted to break up with him right there, I couldn't. It didn't feel right. So I met his parents, brother and sister.

"Call me when you get there?" I nodded.

"I will send a text."

"Okay..." He kissed slowly, enjoying the moment. "I love you!"

If he had kicked my stomach, the effect would be the same. He was a nice friend, but I didn't loved him. I smiled. I kissed him on the lips and turned my back toward my family. When I came back from Spain, I would break up with him. It was the right thing to do.