Brittany
(Santana)
Columbia's Glee Club was different than the one I was accustomed in Lima. The first hour of the meetings on Tuesdays was for discussion and music appreciation. I loved discuss Motown, modern pop, political importance of the punk rock, why the Beatles were so revolutionary, classic rockers, soul music, hip hop and various other issues related to contemporary music. Unlike Mr. Schue, who wrote something on the board and tried to do something like a brainstorm, Professor Tomini lectured for about 30 minutes showing a video or playing a song, and then opened up a small debate that was always busy. Thought sometimes my colleagues would come to blows. I myself almost hit a girl who said that Alanis Morissette was nothing compared to Joni Mitchell's legacy. It was an insult. Of course that I recognized Joni's importance and pioneering, but I didn't understand the common logic that you should bashing one to legitimize the other.
Alanis and Joni, both Canadians, played their roles in music with mastery and each had its historical importance in the style and content of the compositions. Joni pioneered the female voice on strong themes. Alanis inherited this burden and contributed to updating themes for women reality 20 years after Joni. Therefore, one doesn't negate the other, but one is the consequence and continuation of the other. Even professor Tomini seemed to like my argument.
To calm the flared tempers, professor Tomini always spent 30 minutes of technical exercise in the meantime and selected the key players that he would use to the upcoming performance. The second meeting of the week was to rehearsals. There were the monthly performances, the campus culture and music festivals and, finally, the performances with the cheerleaders. But in this case, you need to volunteer to have extra rehearsal day on Friday with the cheerios and their coach. I volunteer to sing in the basketball games, mostly.
I was eager for those days. The first performance would coincide with Brittany's company show first night in Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. I would have to rely on the British punctuality of events organized by Columbia, get a cab and run to 55th to watch the show and, at the end, go to backstage to meet Brittany. The schedule would be tight. Brittany would arrive in New York on Friday. It was a day she would stay free while her director and others co-workers would be doing the press. Thank God Brittany wasn't that great on interviews so sh could be with me all day. Saturday would be busy for both of us and we would practically only see each other after her show, if I couldn't sleep with her for some reason. We would have part of Sunday until the time that Brittany would have to go to theater for the second night. She would fly on Monday morning to Florida and visit some more cities on tour before returning to California. Yeah, it's a busy schedule.
I had so much to do and to show her in New York. I could bring her to my home or visit the Empire State. I don't know. So many choices. I eyed the notes I wrote in my moleskine and didn't like the programming. Brittany deserved better. She always deserved better. The problem is that I could never give something up.
"You scribbled it again?" Andrew said astonished.
"It doesn't look good."
"But this script was fantastic. I wanted to do it. Imagine? Doing tour in New York avoiding all the common places? It's pretty cool. And I haven't even got the opportunity to go to these places as often as I would like. Imagine? Go to Tom's Diner just because Suzanne Vega's song? Bob Dylan's music scenarios? How awesome!"
"Too cliché, I think."
"This friend must be really important to make you so excited with her arrival." He smiled awkwardly.
"She's my best friend of a life and I haven't seen her for months. The last time she was here, my sister was running to the hospital because of that appendicitis. Imagine the drama. That's why I want to do something special for my Britt Britt this time."
"I may be talking nonsense, but maybe she wants to spend more time with you for a good conversation." Andrew speculated. "Who knows a simple dinner where you two can talk and spend quality time together is better than to be going from one side to another in the city and be exhausted in the end of the day?" Suddenly he stopped talking. I think I was startled by my furrowed brow.
The point is that Andrew was one of those little geniuses who spoke the obvious where nobody saw it, and things went to make sense. It was another aspect that made him so lovely. He was cute. I couldn't resist, so I put my hand on his face and pulled him into a peck on his lips.
"When did you get so smart, your dork?" Andrew was still surprised.
"Sometimes I can be too bright for these things." He smiled awkwardly.
"Sometimes!" I winked at him.
Brittany arrives on Friday, the first Glee performance is on Saturday just before the Cia dance's show, and we still have part of Sunday. All these information were hammering in my head. I got home and came across Johnny doing housework. I was surprised to see my friend wearing plastic gloves washing the bathroom.
"Hi beautiful San!" He smiled at me.
"It's not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"
"Mike said that the sink was leaking and asked if I knew anyone to fix it, so you could return the apartment without pay extras. Then, I came to take a look and saw that it had only a few worn parts. I switched them of the kitchen sink and the bathroom... I only did a little mess, but I'm packing everything now."
"Did you also fix the sink?" I could swear that every week I discovered Johnny's different ability.
"Not fix like a pro. I just do the basics, and the problem was basic."
I wanted to ask where is everyone. I checked my watch and was surprised by the late hour. Mike and Rachel would be at work and god knows where was Quinn. Maybe she was in the theater with my sister watching Across The Universe for the thousandth time. I left things in the room and offered my friend an express dinner, which was our home slang for frozen food or instant noodles. We shared lasagna and drank a beer while seeing what was going on TV.
"So... looking forward Brittany?"
"It's all I think these days. I'm counting the minutes."
"Do you think you guys will be together this time? Like together, together?" I looked at Johnny, who seemed legitimately curious.
"I don't know. Well, I hope that we will spend some time together and we are talking by phone about it, about what we want to do. That together part is kind of easy. The harder part of the together is facing the fact that she lives on the other side of the country. Come on, Johnny, is difficult to maintain such a relationship. My parents live one hour away from each other and they recognize that it's not easy. And they are experienced grow ups. Imagine me and Brittany... I love her so much, but I'm only 19 and Brittany is nearly 20. We are focusing on different things right now. That's my logic self speaking, of course. Still… I want her so bad!"
"She's almost 20? I thought you guys did the same grade in school."
"She is nine months older than me. Well... Brittany wasn't the brightest student, but she is smart on her way. She is incredible dancing and very creative, talented. But she had some academic difficulties. Brittany attended the special inclusion program at McKinley High, because that was the only public school in Lima that accepted learning disability students like her. Incredible, isn't it? My problem was the opposite there."
"You are a genius."
"I'm no Stephen Hawking, but I'm smart enough to Columbia."
"Just don't burn your privileged neurons with too much weed." Johnny said with a frighteningly casual tone.
"What? Was Quinn complaining to you too? Incidentally, what morals do you have to say it? You also smoke a joint. Don't you think it's kind of hypocritical of you?" I raised my voice ready to discuss, but Johnny's calm kind of tripped me.
"But I didn't start smoking for fun and I almost sank myself to forget."
"How? What?"
"I smoked for the first time on my mother's funeral. I was at NYU starting my sophomore year when my father died. It was stupid, you know? He was repairing the roof and fell hitting his back against the floor. The impact ended his liver and my father died on the operating table. Anyway... I tried to move on but I forgot to look at my mother. She suffered from depression, and my father always took care of her. My mother couldn't stand the loneliness and killed herself four months after his death. I have never forgiven myself. I was so sad that day, so guilty... that was when a friend of mine offered me the weed. It was so good, so numbing that I sank into it as well the alcohol. I dropped out NYU and almost turned a beggar in the follow year, until my dad's best man and godfather helped me get out of the mud. He helped me to get small jobs and to get clean enough to take back the control of my life. When I met you guys, I was still recovering and I think you all have helped me in the process."
"How possibly did we help you?"
"Accepting me, letting me in, being my new family. I still smoke weed and drink on occasion, of course, but it's far far away from what I used to do."
"I didn't know, Johnny Boy, I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything."
"What about your brother?"
"Brian and I were never close... he thinks I'm a bum and that I should stay away from him and his kids and wife. Well, I respect his wishes." Johnny left the beer bottle on the table. "I know I have no morals to lecture you, San, but I can still warn you. Take it easy."
"I don't know what Quinn or Mike told you, but it's not that bad. I just smoke on occasion, at some parties mostly. But I am glad you talked to me."
"Just do not... I mean... I do not... well... please, don't comment about this story with the others, ok?"
"You can count on me. Mike, Quinn and Rachel don't need to know."
"Thank you, San... it was good to talk." He grinned sheepishly. "Thank you."
Johnny was gone when Quinn came home with a tired face. The prudence told me to be quiet. Quinn fixed her own express and also some questions about Brittany. She said I should prepare myself because the time for moving out was near. I thought these reminders so boring. Alright, so I put that responsibility in their hands because I wanted peace. And peace of mind was all I wanted to wait my Brittany.
...
(Quinn)
I was packed with things to do. Rachel and I shared the task of looking for a new place. She visited real states in the afternoons. If she approved, I would also check it place on available time in my schedule, ie, at lunch time between college and work, or after seven in the evening, when realtors had little patience and mood because they are no longer in business hours. The problem was that Rachel liked a lot of places, especially luxurious ones. She still didn't understand that we had a maximum price for the rent, but she thought that Across The Universe' success would leave her rich. Not yet, my beautiful girlfriend.
Unfurnished apartments were cheaper and we were willing to consider the savings we did buying second hand furniture slowly. Initially, we would only have to buy new beds.
Rachel loved a three-bedroom apartment with two bathrooms in Gerritsen Beach, Brooklyn. The real state was beautiful, but far from everywhere. It was useless, despite the handsome price. We found other one in Park Slope, where I wanted to live, but the apartment looked and smelled old. Chelsea had another, but it was smaller and more expensive. Of course she saw a dazzling two-bedroom in Murray Hill, but the rent was $4,000 per month. No way!
Mike would also would move. But he was a more pragmatic guy: he had already rent a small and functional studio in Greenpoint. He already had packed some stuffs, but he was waiting for us to move out.
My phone vibrated during the class.
"Quinn?"
"Rachel? What is it?" She avoided calling me in the mornings when I was in NYU, so that was a sign that something serious happened. "Wait a minute…" I got up in the middle of the class, making a rude movement that I would regret. "What's up?"
"I have an interview for Broadway Express along the cast in ten minutes and I need you to meet a realtor at ten-thirty."
"What?" I snapped. "Rach, I'm having classes right now. I can't meet some realtor in Harlem or whatever."
"But this one is in Park Slope!" Damn it, Rachel!
"What's the address?"
"479 4th avenue. Lies between the 11th and the 12th. The name of the realtor is Eric Lesley. He said he only had this time. Sorry."
"I'm going there."
"Okay, give me the news. Love you, honey!"
I flew out of college and took the subway line to Park Slope. I looked at the clock: ten-forty. I prayed to the realtor still be there. I thought the building and found it ugly. It was one of those massive red brick that must have been about 60 years old. I stood in front of the two-way avenue, there wasn't a market nor noisy bars around. Maybe that was Rachel's trap to make me give up renting a place on Park Slope since she insisted to go to Manhattan, or, at most to the Bronx. I slammed the door of the hall, and a man came to the door.
"Lesley Lord?" He nodded yes. "I'm Quinn Fabray and I came to see the apartment."
"Oh, miss Berry-Lopez said you were coming, but imagine someone older" He said in a mixture of scolding and frolic.
"Sorry I'm late, but she warned me at the last minute and had to run here."
The realtor smiled and pointed to the stairs. I would rather an elevator building, but it was very difficult to find a perfect one property with a fair rent. Jesus Christ, how Santana did all of this alone when we move out to New York?
"This is a building was built in the 1950s, but it is in great shape." He began the tour as soon as he opened the door. The information didn't surprise me because thousands of buildings in New York City were even older. "It went through a total renovation last year. The entire wiring system and gas pipe was replaced."
When he finally gave me passage to the door, I was dismayed by what I saw. The living room was nice, the apartment has been freshly painted and seemed to be warm.
"The floor of the room and the bedrooms are all oak. Rarity to find something like this today." That information proceeded. The kitchen, which was insulated from the room, was kind of too narrow. I didn't see I, Rachel and Santana in there at the same time. "The kitchen is very functional."
"No washer and dryer?" I said to Rachel that I was tired to walk two blocks to do the laundry every damn week, and I wanted a place with this facility.
"No, not here. But there is a public laundry down the street." The realtor led me to the rooms. Both the same size and a little narrow. "Because this is a leaked apartment, the rooms have view to the green area behind the buildings. It's a very nice environment."
Finally, he showed me the bathroom: it was small and simple. It was a nice apartment, but only slightly better than the current one. It wasn't right, anyway. I didn't want a low flat like that facing a big avenue and my idea was one of two bathrooms, even though it was difficult to find one that fit on our rental budget limit.
"Something tells me you didn't like it here." The realtor smiled dowdy.
"It is a great place on a great neighborhood, and the price fits. But I was thinking on something… different."
"May I ask how many people you will live with and that will contribute on the rental?"
"I'm living with my girlfriend and her sister and the three of us pay the rental."
"So you're not looking for something to ordinary roommates."
"Yes. It's something for a couple with an unwanted 19 years old kid. Kinda…"
The realtor seemed to think of something and took the phone. He excused himself and called someone while I took another look to the apartment.
"Miss Fabray." He turned to me. "Do you have restrictions on living in Queens"
"It depends where."
"There is an excellent property in Astoria with some facilities that you are looking for. Would you care to accompany me to drive? I can show it now."
I hesitated. Accepting a ride from a stranger wasn't a good policy in that city. But my intuition was tingling, it might be a good opportunity, so I accepted the ride. We went into a Ford sedan and Mr. Lesley, who was a middle-aged man, turned on the radio in a jazz station.
"Like jazz?" He tried a small talk.
"Not really my style. My girlfriend is an expert in standards. I think she knows all the soundtracks made for musicals. Her sister likes Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald and Nina Simone. I am the white girl of the trio."
"How so?"
"I like to hear ballads and also country music, but they can't know. My girlfriend would kill me. She hates country music and my sister in law would piss me off because of this."
"I know your drama, ma'am. It's like at home: I'm Republican but my wife is a liberal Democrat. I won't lie: things like this same sex discussion aren't easy to me, but I try. Sorry if it offended you. Still, I can't say it that load or my wife would accuse me to be a red neck and all."
"I'm not offended. You have your right to not liking same sex relationships, since you respect the other's choice as same this other should respect yours."
"That's what I say! Thank you."
"I'm also a Republican. I'm gay, but I'm kind of conservative. So, I understand you."
"So, is your girl black to call you the white girl?"
"She's Jew with a crazy Latina family."
"It seems complex."
"A lot."
"If you want, I can change the station."
"No need. The music is good."
The traffic was quiet off the island, so we got to Astoria fast than I thought it would be and we stopped in front of a new building with balconies. I wondered if the rent in this type of property could be more expensive. Mr. Lesley met a girl.
"Miss Fabray, this is my colleague, Mrs. Ayer. She has the key of the apartment that I would like to show you."
We took the elevator to the seventh floor. Mrs. Ayer opened the door and my eyes lit up. I was facing a perfect apartment for my claims. The entrance door was next to the small kitchen, but enough to at least two people to move. The counter that separated the kitchen and the living room was a beautiful dark stone.
"The kitchen was remodeled at some time" Ayer began to explain while I checked the cupboards. They were all good, not to mention beautiful. From the sink/counter, I looked at the white and well-lit room. It was larger than the current apartment, and I even imagined place to put couch, rachis, TV and some paintings. "The bathroom had also undergone recent reforms." She continued the tour and went into the bathroom which was reasonable. The sink was extended and it had a small counter with large mirror (Rachel would love it), and even had pictures that harmonize well with the locker room. Opposite the bathroom was a tiny hall with a closet and the bedroom's door. I got in and saw a place bigger, airy and brighter than the Rachel and Santana's. "The floor is all wood, and as you see, the previous owner left the curtains. They are new, but you can, of course, replace them. This balcony connects this room and the living room. The master bedroom is slightly larger, of course, and has its own balcony."
"Did you say the master room?"
There were two doors in the opposite side of living room. The narrow one in a Venetian style hided the washing machine and the dryer. The other normal door gave access to a larger room with two windows, balcony, bathroom and a small closet, but with enough space to house my clothes and Rachel's.
"The windows are anti-noise. And the major drawback of this apartment is that it is not for people who like dark places." The woman smiled. "The previous occupant was the owner himself. He is an interior designer and he planned and reformed this place."
"He did a nice job here." I was smiling. "I mean, the apartment is beautiful and very tasteful."
"Yes, he bought another property in Manhattan."
"I'm glad!"
"Well… this building offers a bicycle room, gym for residents, access to the roof deck where you have a great view of Manhattan, there is concierge service and garage. Each apartment has one parking space. The building is relatively new and maintenance is up to date. The subway station is relatively near as well the bus stop."
"How much is the rent?"
"The owner asked 2,700 monthly. Consumption of water, power and gas are charged per apartment." It meant almost a thousand dollars for each. I could pay my part and could supplement my income with some photography freelancers, Rachel could also pay smoothly and Santana just had to ask her grandfather. I think the price wouldn't be a problem.
"I guarantee you won't find a place like this in Manhattan or in Park Slope with this price." Said Mr. Lesley. "I know the owner and I wanted to show this place to you because I know he would like to have people like you living in this place."
"What should I do to hold this place until sigh the lease contract?"
…
(Santana)
I hardly sleep with anxiety. Still, I woke up at seven in the morning with in a great mood. I would finally see my Brittany and this time I would spend a weekend with her. I mentally review my agenda of the day. She would lend at midmorning with the whole dance company, but we would met at the hotel, because it would be quieter than at the airport. I sat on my bed with my legs crossed. My stomach had butterflies. I watched my sister across the room to distract me. She got dressed to leave, only I had no idea to where.
"I booked tickets for you and Britt tonight." She said as she took her bag. "Do you think she'll agree having a dinner with us after the play?"
"I'll call you to confirm."
"You won't sleep at home today, right?"
"I hope not! So, you and Quinn can start celebrating… but not on my bed, ok?" Rachel laughed.
"Good luck, Santy." She kissed me on my cheek before leave the room.
"Where are you going this time of a day?"
"I have a meet with my agent. A magazine called wanting to do a shooting with ATU girls and we are discussing the cache."
"Nice."
"Yes, it is. It's not Vogue, but it is a start."
I rubbed my eyes and began to prepare myself for the big day. I had my breakfast and washed the dishes while Mike spent an eternity in the bathroom probably masturbating. I don't know why he didn't do it in his room. It's kind of annoying, but I was much more patient with the idea that Rachel, Quinn and I would moving out soon and so as Mike. I looked at the clock. It was nine-forty in the morning yet. I regretted for missing the classes in Columbia. At least my friends would have distracted me. I picked up a book, but I had no concentration to study. I started checking the internet. Nothing interested me. Mike left the bathroom smelling and well groomed. He said he was going to a professional meet and gave me a kiss on my cheek before leaving. Good for him. I looked again at the clock. Ten o'clock. The time didn't pass. I turned on the television. Nothing. I turned on the radio. The programming was a mess. My cell phone rang. The name of Brittany appeared on my screen and my heart raced.
"Britt!" I said breathlessly.
"San, hey, I'm in town" I was delighted to hear her voice.
"Good. Did you have a good flight?"
"It was alright... San, pay attention, I am at the Hilton Garden Inn. Do you know where it is?"
"Of course!" I knew it was in Manhattan, but I would just need two minutes to find out the address.
"I booked a room for myself this time instead of sharing one with my friends. Just to be with you. When you arrive, call on my cell. I'll go down to get you."
"I'm on my way!"
I went into the bathroom and got ready with blistering speed, but was careful enough to stay fragrant and beautiful to my Brittany. I got the first available cap and headed to my destination right in the island. I could hardly see the scenery from the car window and the impression was that fifteen minutes trip lasted an eternity. My heart felt like it would explode when the taxi stopped in front of the hotel. I paid the race and didn't even bother with the change, something that would be unthinkable in other circumstances. I picked up the phone.
"I'm here!"
"I'm coming down!"
The world stopped when a beautiful blonde woman with incredibly blue eyes came up to me. I was speechless. I just hugged her tightly in front of the door. Eternity, this time, was welcome.
"There is so much that I..." I was silenced with her index finger on my lips.
"Talk later."
"But..."
"San, I've been craving for you since the last time we met. I won't in the mood to talk right now, unless you don't want it."
"Oh God, I want it… I want you so much!"
Brittany took my hand and led me inside the hotel. The room she was staying was a ordinary one, with double bed and bathroom. I figured the rest of the company weren't much better. My Brittany didn't care about these things anyway. Not even me. All she wanted was that we had the privacy we needed. As soon she closed the door, we started kissing as if one wanted to delightfully devour the other. Better yet when Brittany lifted my dress, ran her soft hand through my thighs and pulled my legs so I crossed them in her back. Then she carried me that way on a short trip to the bed. I was in heaven. Happiness was going to explode in my chest.
"You don't know how much I missed you." She first took off my dress, pulling it over my head. I wore no bra, and Brittany didn't hesitate in attacking my breasts with her wonderful mouth. I moan of happiness and pleasure.
"It's not fair." I complained hoarsely a few minutes later. "You're wearing too many clothes."
I sat on the bed and made sure to slow down our meeting. I was also craving for her, but we had time and all day, so I calmly removed her blouse, bra, panties and her pants. Every step I gave it's time, kissing her body, tasting her skin, giving her a pleasure she needs to be on fire. I was kneeling, standing, admiring the view. Brittany looked stunning all nude like that. It's been a year and eight months without touching her, still, it was like ride a bicycle: you never forget. Brittany's body was more muscular and turned, but her bottoms were in the same place. She still loved sweet lady kisses on her neck and boobs before the main action. And I had to tickle her a little under the armpits: Britt Britt loved it.
I was on top kissing her abs while my hands made the first contact with her lady part. She was so wet that it turned me on even more. I loved to see she moaning as I was working on her clit while kissing her pink nipples.
"San…" She moaned even loader. "Please… I need your tongue… and fingers."
My lady needed me. I wouldn't deny it to her.
"On my way, babe."
I got down Brittany and I swear that I almost came just tasting her. My tongue worked on her clit, sucking it good, while I put in two fingers. Soon, her hand was in my head, caressing my hair and, at the same time, pressing me closer. She was in need!
"Put another one, San. Please. One more finger."
Well, that was a change. Still, I would put in my entire hand if she asked. I did what she wanted and Brittany started to moan like crazy. I felt her so close, so delicious close. She opened her legs even more, showing how she improved her flexibility, and then, she came strong and I took all she offered.
Not only her flexibility was better, but also her breath. She didn't need much to want another round.
"San, why are you still overdressed?" I was in my ruined panties, but Brittany took it off and fixed it.
I smiled and allowed her to have her way. She opened my legs and touched me so good that I came fast.
"What?" She smilled and I was so embarrassed. She didn't even have to get in.
"Oh, God, I'm sorry, Britt. I was just super horny."
"That's ok, San, You are allowed to come as much as you can." She kissed me before change our positions a little bit. "But since you already came, maybe, this time, we could cum together…"
"I would love it." Brittany started to move and soon I met her pace.
"I missed it so much…" She said moving her sex against mine.
"I know the felling… oh Britt!"
I hadn't realized how close was but I tried to hold it a little bit until Brittany give me the sight to let it go. And we made it. Or we were close enough to that. I didn't really care: it was wonderful. I could see her coming, the way she throws back her head and close her eyes and bite her own lips before letting go a guttural breath. Then, I let myself go.
"I think I got blind for a second!" I smiled after recovering from my latest joy. "I can't move my legs!"
"I'm ready for another round." Brittany hugged me tight.
"Let me breathe first, Britt Britt. I'm not in shape like when I was a cheerio."
"To me you are perfect... skinny as ever... only a little less muscular. I liked it. Now you are softer and feminine."
"I'm not skinny." I pretended to be offended.
"Ah, but you are." Brittany did a little tickle in me, which was a bad idea because my body was sensitive after sexual activity.
"I had planned an itinerary of things to entertain you." I was smiling while playing with her fingers. "But your way was much better."
"What were you thinking?"
"Show the city, my favorite places even if most of them are near Columbia and it's kind of cold outside, eat churros and talk..."
"Since I started working with Miley, and now in this show, I traveled to so many places. You wouldn't believe, San. I think I spent more time on a plane than you ever imagined."
"Not that much. Cities aren't so different from each other, and I spend more time with the dancers: We come out to drink, to dance in a nightclub, and most of my friends smokes. You know how much I hate it." Yes, I remember and that's why I didn't tell her by phone, or in person, that sometimes I smoke the weed. "Sometimes I only know airports and hotels... and the venues. That's why I started to observe more airports than the cities themselves."
"I never paid much attention on airports, only the line to check-in."
"You should. There's always a story going around."
"Tell me one?" Britanny set the body against mine, as if she wanted lullabies me.
"Once in Portland, I saw a family crying a lot. They embraced a girl, holding in her face and kissed saying loving words. Eventually, the girl said goodbye, her face was red, and she sobbed. A family fell behind in the lobby until the girl had gone through the gate. That girl lived in Oklahoma. The family paid her a trip to Oregon because she wanted to meet the boy who she had donated bone marrow to treat his leukemia months before. The boy, a kid, now had a chance to live and all because of that girl. I think they become really close friends because the entire family was there to say goodbye in the airport. They were just so thankful for her exists."
"It's a beautiful story."
We eventually slept a little before had sex again, stop to drink some water and eat a little, and then sleep some more. When I woke up, I looked out the bedroom window and noticed that the daylight had already diminished considerably. I rolled over and looked at the clock that was on the wall. It was almost six o'clock.
"Britt, my sister booked tickets to ATU. We need to take a shower to go. Well if you want to go, of course."
"Of course I want to hear Rachel singing .I miss her and her voice. What time is the play?"
"Nine o'clock. I can show you some streets if you want."
It was a hard, but gradually we came out of that bed to take a shower without entertaining business, because we needed a breath. No rush if we still had all night. She wore casual and nice clothes, and I had to borrow some pieces to go to the theater without had to get home for a second to change. The cab stopped in front of the imposing and historic brown and red building with arched windows and doors. Old outside and beautiful inside, with white paint and large columns. I was used to that landscape, but Brittany watched everything with a certain fascination. We entered the largest room, and I was happy that Rachel reminded about the fourth row. Sitting in the gargling was for amateurs and fanatics, like some of the fangirls shouting Steve and Heather names. Quinn found us before the start and promised to get us to the backstage. I could have done it as Rachel's sister. Quinn was happy to see her old friend, I think. The last time she had seen Brittany was months earlier in a unique situation, a hospital, when Rachel had appendicitis.
The play started and Brittany was delighted with the story. She didn't know the movie and I spent our time in the cab explaining the plot. Brittany also was not a fan of the Beatles, despite the long music appreciation Rachel and I gave to her in Lima. For Brittany, "Obladi Oblada" followed by "Yellow Submarine" were tracks sometimes she chose at the time we did our vaginal communion. But Brittany's favorite Beatles song was "Lucy in The Skys With Diamonds" because of the movie "I Am Sam". Her mother said that the movie was a great inspiration.
Brittany loved the play and even more Rachel's performance. At the end of the play, I took her to backstage and Rachel received her with one of those mama bear hug.
"It's so good to see you!" Rachel smiled.
"You were splendid, Rach!" Since when Brittany spoke splendid? Rachel laughed and then introduced to Britt castmates.
Soon we all were looking for a place to eat. Down the block next to the theater there was a Chinese restaurant that the cast and the staff became regulars. Rachel, for example, was a familiar face from the many meals she paid in the months working in ATU. We were well received and made our orders. Quinn and Rachel were mystified of how we were hungry. They wouldn't ask why and was better to let it go.
Brittany told broadly how was her life in Los Angeles. That year she decided to leave the parental home and began to share an apartment with a fellow dancer friend, but had no chance to decorate it because of the constant travel. She told us stories about some artists she met and how was recording the music video for Miley Cyrus. In short, it was a fun night.
"It's time to go." I looked at the late hour on my iPhone screen.
"It's a shame that Mike didn't show up today." Brittany lamented.
"He is working today in Songbook. But he said that tomorrow he will watch you performance. The same here! I'm dying to see you dancing again." Rachel said.
We said goodbye and Rachel gave me that knowing look, saying to me to be careful. Love my sister and her worry, but I wouldn't hold myself in one of the most beautiful day of my life.
…
I'd forgotten how good it was to wake up and realize that I was being used as a pillow for the one I love the most. Brittany literally drooled over my breast, but I didn't care. It was heaven. If time travel would be possible, I would go back at the beginning of my Junior year at McKinley when I was kissing Brittany on her bed. She suggested that we should be in a relationship as an official couple, but I had that stupid gay panic. If it were today, I wouldn't freaked out: I would assume our relationship publicly. Maybe it wouldn't prevent her parents to go to California, but perhaps she had stayed in New York with me, as Quinn did with Rachel. Unfortunately it was too late. I had a life in New York and she had a career in Los Angeles.
"San?" She said lazily. "What time is it?"
"It's early."
"Humm." She snuggled against my body. "I wanted to spend my day here. But I have to work."
In a way, I also had. It was my first performance with the Columbia's Community Glee Club and I couldn't miss it.
"Coffee here or in the hotel's restaurant?" I asked.
"Here! I'm too lazy to get dressed."
We ordered room service and twenty minutes later we received a beautiful breakfast that we enjoyed in bed. We still had disposal to have a quickie before we take a shower and get out of that temporary nest. Close to lunchtime, I went down to the lobby where I met some of the dancers and people on the production team. The coordinator was a guy named Jim Belford, a tall, handsome and very polite black guy. Then, I said goodbye temporarily to Brittany. I needed to change clothes and prepare myself for the show.
I found Quinn and Rachel conniving conspiratorially as soon I put my feet in the house, that way the person changes the subject abruptly.
"What?" I said suspiciously.
"Nothing." Rachel put the theatrical smile that didn't fool me. "Wouldn't just come back on Monday?"
"Today I have Glee, did you forget? I need to change my clothes and go to Columbia. But what were you talking about." I pressed.
"We are discussing about Queens." Quinn said with a voice of boredom.
"The band?"
"No, Queens." Quinn insisted.
"About Elizabeth II and long monarchies?" I teased a little more.
"No, asshole." Quinn lost patience. "About Queens in New York City. We saw that nice apartment that I loved, but your sister don't want to live in Astoria."
"Oh!" Was all I could say.
"That's all you have to say?" Rachel frowned.
"It's not as if I had the right to vote because I'm not helping because I'm sure you two will be rational. So, I'm good."
"You might want to refrain from choice, but I would still like to hear your opinion." Rachel insisted. "I don't want to drag you to a place that would displeasure you. What if I choose Long Island?"
"That's sweet, Rachel. But I don't know the apartment. Still, Astoria is even closer to Columbia than we are now, so I think that's ok." Quinn looked triumphantly at my sister. "I hope you guys will go see me in the choir." I joked. But I was sure Quinn would honor since neither Mike nor Rachel could do it because of their jobs.
I changed clothes and waited for Quinn before we left towards the campus. The Glee Club would perform in the small auditorium opening for the Columbia Philharmonic Orchestra. I was nervous, sweaty hands. The Glee Club would perform four songs: "Big Yellow Taxi", by Joni Mitchell, "Tom's Diner", by Suzanne Vega, "Hand in my Pocket", by Alanis Morissette and I had a solo on "If it Hadn't Been For Love", by Adele. My nervous state ends as soon as I took my place on the stage. I had so much fun singing to the audience that everything looked like kid's a play. Quinn was there, as well Andrew and Izabella, and I was glad, but I would like to also see Rachel, Johnny and Brittany.
But we had no time to lose. We got a cab and ran to the theater where Brittany would be performing. We met Rachel and Mike, who were kind enough to leave their parts in the hands of their respective understudies only for the occasion. The dance play started and then I remembered why I was never a big fan of this kind of shows. It was a one-hour presentation that had elements of circus with modern dance. It was like a rejected show by Cirque Du Soleil that had bright moments, but overall I didn't know if I liked it or not. What I knew was that my Brittany was magnificent and I understood the reason for her flexibility and physical strength have improved so much. At the end, we applaud our friend more than the spectacle itself.
We went to the dressing rooms, Mike brought flowers, and we celebrate with the old gang.
…
I woke up almost exactly the same position of the previous day, but this time there was no show in Columbia to get me out of that room. At the end of the night before, sweaty and somewhat painful, I decided to stop to breathe and rest. I took a shower and put on Brittany's shirt to sleep, and then I returned to bed and snuggled in her arms.
"I don't want this day to end" I said in a small voice. "I have a bad feeling that I shouldn't let you go."
"Nonsense. We will see each other soon."
"When?"
"I think this tour go to the end of June. Then I have nothing in mind to do... well... anyway, I don't want mending jobs. I want to take a vacation so we can spend the summer together. Maybe I could look for jobs here. What do you think?"
"It's a good plan. You can definitely get here. Rachel, Mike and Quinn know people in the business... you can dance on Broadway, teach... there is so much you can do here in New York."
"Yeah!"
"So?" I stared at her with eyes full of hope. "Would you stay with me?"
"In July." Brittany kissed me gently on the lips.
"In July..." I repeat.