October 01, 2013

(Santana)

I spent months with Brittany not answering my calls or texts. When it came to her, I was sure she switched to a California state number and didn't let me know. I would email her, but Brittany didn't answer me. I tried to set up a Skype call, but that wasn't very fruitful either. I didn't want to believe that she would purposely leave me out. Brittany featured in the latest Miley Cyrus video clip dancing in a sexy way. While that Hannah Banana was singing and shaking her hips against some brainless muscleman's pelvis, Brittany was in the background sliding down the other girl's body, as if she was bending over for oral sex. I only saw the videoclip once. The music was garbage anyway! I found out Brittany was hired to dance on Miley Cyrus' tour because I had to call the newspaper her dad was working for and talked to him. The uncle said that they all actually changed their phone numbers, and gave me Britt's new one. Still, Brittany kept answering my messages with emojis. It was frustrating.

Until one day, by some miracle, Brittany texted me that she had gave me four tickets to Miley's concert in New York. All I had to do was give my name at the ticket office of the local. I was hoping for at least free backstage passes, but having the tickets without having to buy them was good enough.

But before the Miley show: real life. Matt and I were on our way to the Public Theater on Lafayette St. in NoHo, practically inside the NYU campus. That's where "Across The Universe" would be staged. The studio rehearsal phase passed, and the cast started meeting there for stage-setting and dress rehearsals. Rachel was excited because the Public was one of the most traditional and important off-Broadway theaters. The publicity and anticipation surrounding the play was growing, and the premiere wouldn't be until December after nearly four months of production and rehearsals. Rachel said that the next month would be filled with preview parties, press conferences, and all the things that happen in the industry to publicize and raise sponsorship.

Broadway shows almost never had a big sponsor, but companies and production companies like R&J specialized in making sponsorship plans for small and medium local brands. Because, let's face it, theater audiences were very limited, and a big company wasn't interested in something that drew 16,000 people a week (if the show was a hit). But the owner of the pizzeria next door would really like the audience to leave the theater to eat at his restaurant. That was R&J's big break to get money that could at least pay the band for a month or two.

The success of the play would be great for Rachel. A play like Across The Universe was meant to be long-lived, but producers only hired the cast for a six-month season. If the play did as well as expected, there would be a window to renegotiate contracts. But a significant salary increase would only happen if a play move from an off-Broadway theater to a Broadway theater. As my sister's "manager," I had to research all this stuff.

Matt spent the day insisting on visiting my apartment in Brooklyn. He thought he was my boyfriend just because we had a quickie in his dorm. I also slept with Izabella once again, a whole night, and she didn't go around campus saying she was my girlfriend.

Sex with Matt started with an innocent conversation of talking about past relatiionships. The conversation evolved into sexual preferences and it started to get erotic. He said he had the kama sutra memorized, and had tried several of the positions. What's worse, he started describing his favorites and said why they were so good. I was on fire, but I resisted and ignored it at first. After one class after lunch, I decided to enjoy the rest of my time in the Economics student study room. That's when Matt showed up and dragged me to his dorm. You know what, he was okay, except the kama sutra thing was just talk.

Matt wasn't a bad guy. He was ambitious, but I didn't consider that a fault. I don't regret having sex with him, but thinking about a relationship was another story. The problem was that I didn't like him enough to try to get into a relationship. I didn't love Paul, for example, but at least he was the guy who supported me at Stuyvesant and we were really intellectual partners. Matt is none of those things. To me, he was a good-looking guy I met in college, and who was part of the group I adopted as my friends.

So it was a bit of a shock when I heard a classmate refer to me as "Matt's girlfriend". I tried to avoid him, but it was difficult when you shared to many spaces with him. In the position of "boyfriend", Matt wanted to know more about me, my family. It was no secret that I lived in New York with my sister and two friends in Brooklyn, and that Rachel was an actress. So he insisted on meeting me where I lived and meeting my New York family. I didn't want to take him home right then because I knew we'd be alone. Matt would want to have sex and, worse, smoke a joint afterwards. Nothing against a little sex to relax, but things were still awkward with Quinn, and I didn't want to overdo it with the weed either. Smoking pot was too good, but I couldn't let it take over me, just like Dad almost did when he was my age. If staying home was out of the question, maybe he could meet Rachel. It was a safe move.

"Really? You're going to the Miley Cyrus concert?" Matt kept teasing me as we headed to Public.

"It's not because of her."

"Well?"

"My best friend is part of the dancer's group." Matt was satisfied with the answer. I thought it was great that I didn't have to give any more details.

We found Quinn at the door of the theater talking on her cell phone. By the look on her face, she wasn't happy. I waited for her to sort out her problems before approaching.

"Hi Quinn!"

"What are you doing here? I thought you hated going to your sister's rehearsals."

"I hate it, but Matt wanted to meet her."

"Matt?" Quinn raised an eyebrow and frowned. She looked at her watch suddenly. "Bloody hell! You'll excuse me, San, but I need to run to Denise's insane request. Tell Rach I'll call if we have to cancel the movie time. But our plans still stand for now."

Quinn waved quickly to Matt and ran out into the street desperate for a cab. I always thought we got around faster on bikes in this town.

"Wow! She's hot!"

"She lives with me." I said simply.

"Is the other friend you live with also a woman?"

"Far from it. I live together with the Chinese guy from the pizza advertisement. Actually, he's Korean."

We got into the theater. I liked this one better than the other from the short Songbook's season. The Public was more pompous, had more of a theater feel, with the damp smell and dense air typical of old city buildings, despite the excellent preservation. We went to the Newman stage, where several Tonys-winning musicals were staged. And yes, all those stories came from Rachel. We found my sister sitting in the back rows, legs stretched out enjoying a loaf of bread with salad and strawberry jam. Bread with jam was great. Bread with jam and salad had no way of being this good. Rachel had a more eccentric palate than mine and made some combinations that I thought were crazy. Especially in the snacks she prepared from home to save some money.

"Santana!" She waved in an exaggerated way, as if I hadn't seen her. Considering she was a dramatic dwarf, it wasn't surprising. "Who's your friend?" She wiped her fingertips on her napkin in greeting.

"Matt!" He cracked a smile as he reciprocated the handshake. "The boyfriend!"

Rachel looked at me funny for a moment. I would look at myself funny. She knew about my college friends from what I told her, and also about my brief history with Matt. But from there, him calling himself my boyfriend was another story. I honestly didn't understand why he was forcing a relationship on me. Look at him: he looked like Mark Ronson, he was a wannabe communist (abuela would have knocked Matt off his feet in five minutes), he was smart. There was always a woman after him. So why? The remote possibility that he might, by some chance, really like me, didn't convince me because I couldn't feel any sincerity in him.

"Nice to meet you, Matt!" Rachel flashed a theatrical smile. She always did that with strangers, which I hated. I thought it was too cynical and fake. "Rachel Berry-Lopez."

"Santana said you were twins."

"And we are bivitelline twins!" Rachel answered the recurring question. "You mean we were generated by two separate eggs..."

"Rachel!" I interrupted her. "Matt doesn't need biology class." I also didn't want to offer any explanations about the peculiar situation surrounding our birth. I didn't say a word about the real possibility that Rachel and I were genetically half-siblings, that I had two fathers, and that my mother was paid to offer her eggs and give birth to us. For some reason I felt that the less information Matt had about my life, the better.

"What play are you going to stage?" Matt continued the light conversation as he stared off into space.

"Across The Universe." I'd better sit down. "It's an adaptation of a movie directed by Julie Taymor, which in turn was inspired by the work of the Beatles. I don't know if you've had a chance to see it, but it's a spectacular story about the struggle for freedom and ideals in the background, although there's the romance between the characters Jude and Lucy at the forefront."

"And you are Lucy?"

"Oh no! I'll be Sadie, who is an aspiring singer from New York who Jude moves in with. She has a relationship with the guitarist Jojo, but has to deal also with Prudence, who is a girl in love with her." I couldn't help but laugh. That was pretty much my sister's life when she was dating Finn and had to deal with Quinn's gratuitous jealous aggression. In real life, the girl won. In the play, the guy was the one who won the girl.

Prudence was played by Sarah Kleist, who was a very interesting blonde. I met Rachel's colleague right there in the theater. Rachel and Sarah kissed in one scene, but the romantic scenes my sister had in that play were with Lucas Hibbs, the handsome young black actor who played Jojo. I had never seen those scenes in the play yet, but I would have the opportunity to check them out during a dress rehearsal for guests two or three weeks before the opening night.

"Speaking of Prudence, Quinn said that your movie night is on hold until further notice." Rachel gave me a questioning look. "She had to run because Denise called I think, and she asked to give you the message."

"Oh!"

"If you date is cancelled, you can go out for pizza with me and Santana." Matt offered as Rachel and I exchanged glances once again. It was a sister thing. Sometimes you didn't need words to know what the other was thinking. Rachel was telling me telepathically that she didn't like Matt.

"It would be lovely, I'm sure." Rachel said out of politeness. The assistant director shouted for Rachel. It was her moment to spring into action.

I sat in the armchair and looked at the other half of the sandwich Rachel had left in the ziploc. I tried it and it didn't taste bad. I was a little hungry anyway. I settled into the armchair and watched the rehearsals, which were pretty boring from the outside. Maybe Matt would feel like leaving without me having to chase him away. I was really looking forward to it.

"Shall we go to your place? Or mine." Matt said suggestively next to my ear. "I have some weed so we can stay relaxed..."

"Not today!" I looked seriously at Matt. "By the way, I wanted to avoid being rude, but we need to clarify a few things about our supposed relationship. We're friends, we had sex once and it was nice, but we're still far from having an established relationship. I don't like others changing my relationship status on my Facebook without my knowledge. And please don't mistake me for a junkie. I may even smoke a little at one party or another. But that doesn't mean I'm smoking it every day, okay? I'm not an addict."

"I honestly thought we had a shot."

"You thought wrong. We are friends and belong to the same group. We had sex in the same way that I also had sex with Izabella, but that was it. It doesn't mean I want to walk around holding hands with you."

"Got it." He collected his things. "Sorry if I meant to take you seriously."

I overestimated Matt. He wasn't as smart as I thought. He left the theater without saying goodbye. For me it was a relief. I grabbed my computer and started working on some pending essays. My home was far away and I could always enjoy walking with my sister to the subway. Rachel started singing. "Your day breaks, your mind aches/ you find that all her words of kindness linger on/ when she no longer needs you". I stopped writing and paid attention to Rachel letting her voice go acapella. "She wakes up, she makes up/ she takes her time and doesn't feel she has to hurry/ she no longer needs you". This song wasn't in the movie, but Rachel had mentioned that there were some significant differences in the play. She sings two songs and have several solo lines in the play. "And in her eyes you see nothing/ no sign of love behind the tears/ cried for no one/ a love that should have lasted years". I couldn't help but think of Brittany. It even sounded like Rachel was singing to me. "You want her, you need her/ and yet you don't believe her/ when she says her Love is dead/ you think she needs you".

I was afraid to find out why I was so moved by my sister's version. I didn't want to find out if it was because my sister sang it beautifully or if it was because the song said something I was experiencing. It had been almost a year and a half since I had seen Brittany in person. She seemed to be doing just fine without me.

...

October 06, 2013

(Santana)

That pothead son of a bitch Johnny was the most well connected guy in New York. His friend of a friend was going to be head of security at the Miley Cyrus concert. The place was a prestigious house with a capacity of five thousand heads. In short, not only could we get in because of the free tickets Brittany had given us, but we were also guaranteed backstage pass.

Johnny told us the news on one of those days when he'd drop by for a beer and a free snacks. When he heard we were going to Miley's concert, he said he would accompany us because apparently Alana liked Hannah Montana for some strange reason. Rachel refused to even come close to the place. She said that if she heard Miley Cyrus' voice, she might have a labyrinthitis attack. She spent the week complaining of a thin pain above her hip, but blamed it on the play's rehearsals, which had become more physical. Quinn didn't want to go to the concert because she wanted to keep my sister company, and because they would have the apartment to themselves. Obviously that would be a day I'd have to sleep in the room with Mike, praying to arrive and find clean clothes of my own on Quinn's bed. I wouldn't risk going into the seemingly quiet room again.

The first time I went in to get clean clothes, I saw Quinn asleep cuddled up to Rachel covered by a sheet. I just turned my face away and grabbed my stuff as quickly as possible. The second time, when I figured it would be the same, I caught Quinn doing things with my sister and I was traumatized. Not that Quinn was doing anything out of the ordinary - she was basically fingering my sister - but the psychological effect was the same as catching my parents in the act. And how the hell could Rachel stay so quiet? I screamed and ran into the living room in shame and agony to get that atrocious image out of my mind. Rachel appeared soon afterwards wrapped in a hobby. She went to fight, but gave up the idea when she saw that I was mortified. After that, I asked that whenever Quinn went to sleep with my sister, that they separate at least one pair of pajamas in case I was out for some reason.

The four of us went to the show: Mike, Johnny, Alana and me. It was strange to be in that environment. There were some fans from the show, a bunch of people from the LGBT+ community, and other people who had nothing to do with me. But I wasn't there for the woman who would be able to simulate the microphone as a vibrator in public and still sing playback. Mike and I joined Johnny and Alana in the arena and went as close to the stage as possible. We walked, to a safe, close distance so as not to be crushed by the throngs of fanatics. We waited for the show to start.

The show started with all the possible clichés: sound booming, band appearing, the silhouette of the dancers through the smoke, Cyrus greets the audience in an entrance of effect, pyrotechnics here and there and the suffering of the music begins. I still couldn't see who I was interested in and the tall people in front of me weren't cooperating.

"Look at Britt!" Mike pointed and fussed.

I had no doubts. I asked Mike to put me on his shoulders. Looking for Britt "from above" was much better. The feat of lights at the end of the song got in the way, but when they all were lit so Cyrus could talk to the audience, I saw Britt dressed in sexy outfits next to some shirtless guys. She looked beautiful. Brittany was glowing. She saw me. She walked to the front of the stage and looked at me as if to confirm that I was me. Then she gave me a big smile and waved at me and went back to her choreography.

"BRITT!" It was the only thing I shouted throughout the show that, in itself, I didn't care about. People on the side started to look up in curiosity. Well: 4,996 people were screaming Miley Cyrus' name and songs: four were only screaming for Brittany: even Johnny and Alana joined in our banter.

Brittany, on the other hand, stayed more on the side of the stage we were on. It was like she wanted to put on a private show for us... for me.

"What a hottie!" Johnny yelled in my ear. "Was she really your girlfriend?"

"Can you believe it?" He made the ghetto sign that meant respect.

At the end of the show, Johnny led us to the backstage, where his friend's friend was waiting to give us credentials that would allow to stay there. There was a lot of movement of dancers, production staff and the usual guests of these shows. There were also some accredited people who paid a fortune just to have access to Miley Cyrus herself to take pictures and get autographs. And we were there on the sidelines just watching everything.

"Britt!" Mike yelled.

She saw us and ran toward us. She hugged Mike and then hugged me. It was like nothing else existed.

"I can't believe you're here." The smile on her face was huge.

She then pulled my face and gave me a kiss in front of everyone. It surprised me because I had imagined a more cautious approach after so long without seeing each other. Britt did have those things, not that I was complaining about that kiss. God knows how much I've looked forward to this moment since I saw that damn poster on the wall. I didn't even care that depraved Johnny was taking pictures of the moment. One of them, sure enough, showed up with my middle finger raised high in front of it.

"You don't know how much I missed you!" She finally told me with tears in her eyes. "And you have no idea how happy you've made me now!"

"The reciprocal is true!" We kissed one more time before turning back to our friends. "This is Johnny." I finally introduced after a few minutes. "He's the guy you always want to have around. And this is Alana, Johnny's girlfriend."

Loosely, he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek followed by a soft hug, very typical of Johnny. Alana also greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and she was much more measured.

"We have so much to talk about..." Britt held my hand.

Before Brittany could say anything else, a man called out to her. She asked us to wait right there. We stood around for a while, watching the technicians take care of the equipment, because Miley was going to play a concert in another city the next day. That's when my cell phone rang and vibrated. It was Quinn. I thought it was strange because she wasn't one to call unless it was an emergency. Otherwise, Quinn communicated with me with very short text messages, especially after the fight we had when I came back from the party where I smoked weed... and did other things.

"Santana?"

"What is it Quinn?"

"It's Rachel...she's in an emergency situation. We're at Woodhull hospital. The big one in Brooklyn. San... come here now."

My heart stopped.

"Woodhull Hospital, Brooklyn." I repeated. "I'm going." I looked at Mike, Johnny and Alana who were watching me with apprehension. "It's Rachel! I think she's having a medical emergency."

I looked in the direction Brittany had now disappeared from our field of vision. I wasn't going to be able to wait for her. Rachel was in a hospital and Quinn wouldn't call me if it wasn't serious.

"Johnny, could you stay and, I don't know, let her know I needed to leave! Rachel's in the hospital and I don't know what's going on."

"Which hospital is it again?" Johnny asked and I closed my eyes to remember.

"Woodhull Hospital, Brooklyn."

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I leave your message. You can trust me!"

I trusted and ran to catch a cab with Mike by my side.

...

"Rachel Berry-Lopez!" I said a little breathlessly to the woman at the information desk just outside the entrance to the huge, crowded hospital.

"And you are?"

"Her sister! Santana Berry-Lopez." Nervous, I struggled to find my driver's license. Mike, much calmer, helped me and took the license for me.

"What is the patient's name again?"

"Rachel Berry-Lopez. Berry-Lopez separated by a hyphen and Lopez with a z."

"Ok... your sister is in the operating room." She handed Mike and I an ID tag authorizing us to proceed to that area. "It's on the second floor. It's the reception right in front of the elevators. There is a waiting room right there and you can wait for the doctor."

Mike and I walked quickly to the indicated area. That hospital was confusing, crowded, strange. I reached the reception, and ran to the information desk passing in front of the person in line.

"I need some information about a patient..."

"San!" I heard someone yell behind me. It was Quinn. My heart raced.

"What happened?"

"Rach started feeling sick and vomiting. She said the pain had increased a lot. She even had a fever. Until she complained that the pain was so bad that she could barely walk. That's when I called a cab and brought her here. We waited almost half an hour, til she was finally called. The doctor performed an examination and an hour later they said she needed an emergency surgery. I was asked to leave. I almost got into a fight with a nurse who looks more like a Harlem gangbanger and a security guard dragged me in." Quinn was desperate. Much more than me.

"Okay, stay calm." Ironic a nervous one trying to calm a desperate one. "They said this is where we should wait, so let's wait. If Rachel is having emergency surgery, there's nothing else we can do."

There was one more thing: I called my father. He was slow to answer because he was asleep, but as soon as I put Rachel and surgery in the same sentence, he was wide awake. He said he would make a few calls to some acquaintances to get some information, but that was as far as my father would get from a distance. I decided not to call Shelby just yet. I would only let my mother know when I had better information about my sister's state of health. In the meantime, Brittany arrived with Johnny. I never expected that, but I'm glad she was here. She kissed me and sat down next to me, hugging me.

A doctor just out of the operating room came in, but it wasn't for Rachel. He stood in front of a lady hugging a teenage boy. Perhaps it was her son. The news was the worst possible and they both began to cry copiously at the automatic phrases like. "We did everything we could", "The damage was too great", etc. My eyes watered. It was impossible not to remember Dad and the worst day of my life. I hated hospitals! The woman couldn't stand it and fainted. She had to be treated right there for a nervous breakdown. That was too much. My nerves weren't made of steel. I left the room. I needed to breathe. I crossed the corridor and walked past the triage desk towards the door. Quinn and Brittany immediately followed me.

"I need some air."

"What you need to do is go back to that damn place because the doctor only tell news about Rachel to you." I understood Quinn's urgency, anger and concern. I wanted the same, but my body was limp.

"Get out of here, Q!" Brittany pushed her lightly, not out of malice. She wanted to get Quinn off my back. Quinn didn't quite understand. She wasn't rational. I understood her concern, but I didn't have the strength.

Quinn threatened to fight with Brittany. Mike wouldn't let her. He took her by the arm and led her to a secluded spot to see if she could cool her head in the freezing night air.

"Come here, San." Britt stood in front of me. "Put your hands on your knees, lower your head and breathe."

It was just like she used to do with me when Coach Sylvester demanded too much of us. Britt was more resilient and helped the other girls. Her heart was always huge like that. She pushed my hair away and I felt a cold liquid run down the back of my neck. It was water from her bottle. It felt good.

"Better?" I nodded. She hugged me and kissed me lightly on the lips. "Now we go and find out about Rach."

"Thanks for being here!"

I felt stronger. We all went back to the waiting room. The woman and her teenage son had already left, perhaps to the infirmary to get IVs or something. A doctor, fresh from the operating room, asked the receptionist something and she pointed in my direction. I took a deep breath.

"Are you with Miss Rachel Berry-Lopez?"

"Yes, sir! I'm her sister. What's going on? Is Rachel okay?" I stood up to talk to the doctor, and Quinn immediately stood next to me to listen as well.

"Your sister was admitted to hospital with severe abdominal pain caused by acute appendicitis. We immediately sent her to the operating room to have her appendix removed. These surgeries are usually simple and quick, but in your sister's case there was a slight complication due to the leakage of pus and the exotic location of the appendix. The problem was successfully resolved. Your sister is in the recovery room at the moment." He checked his watch. "Because of the late hour, your sister won't be sent to her room until late in the morning." And he put his hand on my shoulder. "Go home, take a shower, get some sleep and come back later to be with her, okay? There's nothing else you can do here now." I nodded.

"Thank you doctor..."

"Sanches."

"Thank you doctor Sanches!" I repeated.

"Out of curiosity, and if it's not an intrusion on my part, but are you and your sister by any chance the twins of Dr. Juan Lopez, from Ohio?"

"Yes." I was surprised.

"He called and now I know why! I saw you once in Lima, at a hospital reception. I went there to do a workshop with Dr. Aaron Parker's team. You were about that size... you must have been nine or ten."

"What a small world!" Papi used to take Rachel and me to these hospital receptions because it was a very family event, and other doctors' children and partners used to go too. It also left a good impression on the investors, for some reason.

"Indeed. Give my regards to your father when you can."

I guess I wouldn't have to tell Papi about Rachel's condition anymore, but I still had to call Shelby. I wouldn't let her know at that moment, at 4 a.m, obviously, because my sister was fine, but I would have to send a message to my mother later in the morning. Anyway, a giant came out of my back. That hobbit was fine and that was all that mattered. I went to reception and a nurse handed me the clothes and shoes she was wearing in a plastic bag, and only then was I able to leave with the other four people who was there with me.

"Appendicitis..." Quinn was much calmer. "Is that a family thing?" Quinn allowed herself a little humor and cynicism now that everything was okay.

She was referring to the appendicitis I had when I was 15. I started to feel a little nauseous and lacked appetite in the week leading up to it, but these were things I didn't want to tell Dad about, not least because I was terrified of it being pregnancy because of my disastrous first time. At the time, I remember that Papi had traveled somewhere. I ended up having a seizure during a cheerleading training session and was rushed to hospital. Rachel complained about similar things. I should have paid more attention. Surgery was inevitable, but I could have done without the fright and distress.

Brittany held my hand on the way out of the hospital, and we walked for a while in the early morning chill to relieve the tension before getting a taxi, with Mike, Quinn and Johnny close behind.

"Rach will be fine soon. She's strong!" I was sure of that, but hearing Britt say it was much more comforting.

"I bet she'll complain like hell as soon as she sees us." I smiled. "Thank you for coming. You were essential. By the way, how did you get here?"

"You told your friend about the hospital. Don't you remember?" I looked back to see Johnny chatting animatedly with Mike. Quinn was still serious beside him. I really owed that bastard. "Don't forget to give her a kiss for me."

"Are you leaving already?" It was too early and we hadn't even had a chance to catch up. Brittany couldn't do that to me.

"The flight is in a few hours with the whole team. I'll just have time to stop by the hotel and pick up my things. I've got about five more shows with Miley... I think that's it. Then I'll start rehearsing with Beyoncé. She pays better and I like the music more I'm going to travel the world with her. Isn't that great?" Brittany was part of a dance company, and there was a guy in the company who got the best dancers to do gigs with these big artists.

"That's great!" I said, happy for Britt's achievements and sad that our time was too short. "Britt... if it's not too much to ask, could you reply to my messages without putting emojis? I never hear from you, all I see is you reacting to my messages."

"Oh... I thought you liked it."

"I like it, but what I like more is being able to talk to you."

"Okay. Then I'll record audios for you."

"That would be nice. I like hearing your voice."

We went to a taxi rank in front of the hospital. It was our moment to say goodbye. I tried to show Brittany all the love I had for her in our kiss. When we parted, it was like I was on a cloud. It didn't matter how many people I was with: Brittany was the person who made me truly happy.

"Take care, okay?"

"I love you San!"

"I love you more, Britt."

One more kiss and my guardian angel got into the cab. Comforting hands passed behind my back. It was Quinn. I looked at the clock on my cell phone. It was half past four in the morning. Sleep was out of the question. I had to shower, pack some things for Rachel, like fresh clothes and a toothbrush, and get back to the hospital. I also had to call the play's production to let them know that Rachel had had emergency surgery and would be absent from rehearsals for the next week. Quinn would make sure she was in the room as soon as my sister arrived. She ran her hands over my shoulder. We had work to do.