(Santana)

"San, I don't understand this game!"

"Well, you just have to try to guess the sequence of colors I've chosen. I'll put the black peg if you get one of the combinations right and the white ones if you get the colors right but in the wrong place."

"It's still confusing. Isn't it better if we play video games? I like Mario!"

"You're too good at Mario Kart! It's impossible to beat you!"

"Well, if you ask Rachel to play with us, you won't be so frustrated because you always beat her."

"Rachel is so boring and lame! All she wants are these dancing and singing competitions. I hate being dragged by my dads to watch her scream in front of people."

"I think Rach sings well, but I can dance better than her!"

"I agree with the dancing part... by the way, you're almost unbeatable with your feet."

When Brittany didn't understand a board game, even after explaining the rules a dozen times, then it was better to forget it. I should have learned that the only board game that really made her happy was the Game of Life, because it was a place where she could dream of being a doctor, having six children, a husband and a lot of money in her pocket. I wished, from the bottom of my heart, all this for my best friend. But I knew she would never be a doctor like Papi. At most, one of those people who learned from their grandparents which were the right herbs to cure simple ailments.

Even if Brittany didn't understand the logic of the board games, I loved her the most. Even when she made such a mess of my chemistry lab that she created something crazy that made a hole in my rug, I adored her. I liked spending time with Britt more than with my sister. I could say anything to her. I could discuss situations at school, talk about boys or how stupid Grey's Anatomy was. I talked about television and school with my dads, it just wasn't the same thing. They wouldn't understand certain things not because they were never teenagers (obviously), but because they weren't girls. Of course, there was Rachel... well, I hated talking to my sister because she always had a morality, like she was some superior entity, like she was someone perfect.

I don't remember exactly when I stopped talking about certain things with my sister. It has to do with the fact that we have little in common. For starters: she recently adopted a vegetarian diet that disgusts me. Dad's a vegetarian, but at least he's not annoying. Not Rachel: she scowls when Papi and I eat meat, and depending on the day, she still makes speeches about cruelty to animals.

I do feel sorry for animals, but I cling to two powerful thoughts:

1: what the eyes don't see the heart doesn't feel;

2: my mood improves a lot when I enjoy a delicious barbecue, or a nice bolognese pasta.

In addition to annoying me at mealtimes, Rachel still spends a good deal of time talking about her plans to be a Broadway star. She can make whatever plans she wants, she just doesn't have to involve everyone. I wanted to be an astronaut myself and I didn't have to be obsessed with NASA and piss off my family about it.

The real truth is that my sister is a pain in the ass who only knows how to talk about the Shitway, sing showtunes, and take all those stupid dance and singing classes that are available here in Lima. This is useless. What future can a class taught in Lima bring? Seriously? Rachel goes to all these state singing competitions and doesn't even understand that the quality of the competition is poor. Rachel didn't even like playing with the neighborhood kids or the synagogue kids anymore. If it weren't for me, she'd be more isolated than she already is.

A lot of the kids at school annoy us because we have two dads. I defended their honor and Britt helped me sometimes. Rachel kept listening to the barbarities as if she didn't care. I hated that about her. Before, at least, Rachel reacted. Now she didn't. I had to drag her into our adventures and our acts of revenge. One more reason to like Britt better: she understood me, she didn't lecture me and helped me.

I met Brittany when I was seven. One day, Brittany's mother had an accident at home and the Pierces rushed to the hospital. That same day, dad had traveled with some students and papi had to work at the hospital. I don't think papi had anyone to leave us with, and the only nanny our parents trusted, other than Abuela, was sick. So, we had to stay in the hospital's recreation center. I didn't like that place because the smell was weird. It was where hospitalized children who could leave their rooms stayed, and also other children of doctors and nurses. There was always a monitor around and I didn't like her either. But that day, only me and Rachel were there. My twin sister played with the dolls while I drew a castle. That's when I saw her.

Brittany was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She had amazing blue eyes, blonde hair and looked like an angel. The purest of them. Britt came over and asked what I was drawing. Soon we were talking about dragons. Her imagination was incredible. Since then, we have never been apart. Papi healed Britt's mother and our families became friends. It's been like this for four years.

"Puck kissed me!" Brittany said as I organized my game. I don't know why, but it made my heart stop.

"What?" I wanted to understand properly. I wanted to make sure I heard it right.

"In the lips! He came to my house and kissed me."

"With your lips closed or was it a French kiss?"

"French Kiss?"

"With lips open! Just like in those movies or like that day when we caught my dads in the greenhouse..." I felt my face get hot.

"Oh! It was with my lips closed." I felt relief, but I still didn't understand why.

"H-how was it? W-was it good?"

"It was weird. I can show you if you want." My face got even hotter if that was possible, and I felt something strange in my stomach. It was as if it was infested with butterflies that flew around trying to escape from inside, but didn't know where the exit was.

"I don't know..."

Brittany didn't wait for an answer. She came closer and pressed her lips to mine. So far nothing new because I pecked my parents on the lips and sometimes, Rachel's. Or Abuela when I was younger, although she doesn't accept that kind of affection anymore. Abuela said that Rachel and I were too old for that because we were already 11 years old. But Brittany just stood there and things started to look different. She started moving her lips slowly against mine. They were wet and it tasted good. I felt a good softness in my body and closed my eyes. I never thought that kissing someone on the lips could feel so good and I came to understand why some girls at school were so obsessed with it.

But it didn't last long. I heard knocks on the door and in fright, I was apart from Britt. My heart was racing.

"Santy!" I heard Rachel's voice outside my room. "I can get in?"

"Of course not, hobbit. Get out of here!" I was disgusted by Rachel's intrusion. She always showed up at the most inopportune times.

"But it's an emergency!" She appealed. She looked like she was going to cry and that caught my attention despite the fact that I was experiencing a whirlwind of feelings at that moment. I got up from the rug and opened the door prepared to yell at her. But when I saw Rachel scared and her eyes watering, I got worried.

"What's happened?"

"I think dad got into a fight. He came home with his lips cut and now he's down in the library. I think he's talking to the lawyer!"

I think the young heart must be very resistant because mine had fired several times in a few minutes.

"We need to find out what happened!" I took the lead, as I always did, and we headed downstairs.

The library door was reinforced to act as an acoustic insulator. We could scream in there and no one in the house would hear anything but a muffled sound. There was also almost no outside noise heard inside. Except for the window, which wasn't made with proper soundproofing. The door was closed, so Rachel, Brittany and I went out through the kitchen – which opened onto the garden – and walked around the house to the library window. It was open, so we approached it by crawling across the lawn. From there you could hear dad yelling into the phone.

"... how can we not sue this bastard? So now imbeciles like Russell Fabray are allowed to go around provoking people in the street without punishment? (...) Of course I fought back! (...) You get paid to be a lawyer for this family, so why don't you start acting like one? (...) I can't (...) Of course I'm hot headed! (...) Okay... I'll talk to Juan (...) Okay ... (...) Okay (...) I'll wait".

We hear Dad hang up the phone. Slowly, I lifted myself up enough to peer into the corner of the window. Dad was sitting in the chair with his hands over his eyes, that way when your thumb is massaging one of your temples. I mean, Dad was a botanist and we were both the adventurers of the house. But arriving with your shirt soiled with mud after a hike or visiting the county's greenhouses was different than having your shirt half-torn at the collar and your lips bleeding. Dad was white, he had green eyes like bubbee, and dark hair. Only, right now, he was red as a bell pepper from a fight with that disgusting Russell Fabray.

A lot of people in Lima gave my parents dirty looks. When Rachel and I were younger, we witnessed some horrible scenes caused by the prejudice of certain people. People who literally spit on the floor in front of our parents. But in Lima, as much as some people turned their heads or acted rudely, rarely did anyone attack to such an extent that the argument ended in a fight. Except for Russell Fabray and his macho cronies. They didn't fight at first, but they made cruel comments, especially when Dad was without Papi. Also because Fabray and the others didn't face Papi: they would be beaten for facing a tall and strong ex-football player. And since Papi was a surgeon, he knew all the right places to hit.

I got down and motioned for the girls to follow me to the pool house. It was a safe place for us to conspire without attracting the attention of Dad or Clara, who was doing a special cleaning of the cupboards in the garage.

"Of course that asshole Fabray attacked Dad! That family is rotten, Ray." I snapped as I paced back and forth.

"But what can we do?" Rachel was resigned.

"What we always do!" We had some revenge strategies against the Fabrays. I had even written a little manual of pranks we could do against those racist people.

"Toilet paper? Again?" Rachel rolled her eyes. "We already did this last month and I think it's time we grew up! Isn't it better to let the adults sort it out?"

"No! I would hate to cross my arms and do nothing!"

"What do you have in mind?" Rachel asked sighing.

"This time we're going to use eggs!"

"Are you going to egg the Fabrays house?" Brittany was startled. I've never egged people's houses before, but that bastard deserved it. "San, this could be dangerous."

"Rachel and I are used to it!" I caressed my best friend's face. "Do not worry, OK?"

"But San..."

"Britt, it's something we need to do. Just don't tell…anyone!" I tried to emphasize. It had to be that way or she would tell her parents about the prank and I didn't want them to take a break, as it happened once and Britt couldn't visit me for almost three months.

"I won't say anything!"

"Not even to your cat!"

"But San…" Brittany was truly distressed.

"Okay, Baron Frutchman might know. But only him!"

Brittany was pleased to be able to let the cat in on the secret, but knew it wouldn't make her worry about us any less.

"What's the plan, Santy?" Rachel must have been angry, because she didn't even try to change my mind. As annoying as Rachel can be, at least she wasn't a total wimp.

I was the girl with the plans. I took a deep breath and devised a strategy. Then we move. I pretended I didn't know Dad was home, so Rachel and I got on the bikes and yelled to Clara that we were going to the grocery store for some candy, which we did, except for the candy part. It was in this place that was on the avenue that divided my neighborhood with the Country Club: the place of the great mansions of Lima. We went in, and Mrs. Spilter found our purchase strange: two dozen eggs: something different from the usual chocolates, gum and cupcakes (they were the best in the region). I silently thanked her for not asking questions. It made Brittany nervous.

We went back home and left the bag of eggs near the bicycles, which were on the side of our house instead of in the garage, as usual. That way we wouldn't have to open the garage door on our way out, which would draw our parents' attention. We went into the house and stayed in the TV room playing Mario Kart until Britt's dad blew the horn to get her. Papi just happened to come home from the hospital. He barely spoke to us. He went straight to talk to Dad, probably already aware of all the confusion. We ate dinner in silence, a rare thing in that house, then Rachel and I went upstairs to my room and killed a little more time doing homework. Then we pretended to fall asleep on my bed.

Papi and Dad stopped by and said good night. The time had come. Once they got into their room and closed the door, Rachel and I changed into dark clothes and headed downstairs. We left through the kitchen door, because it was less noisy, we took our bicycles, the eggs and we only started pedaling at the end of our street. The Fabray's house was a ten-minute pedal ride from ours. When we turned onto their street, I put on my black cold hat that had two holes for eyes while Rachel put on her Browns cold hap. We parked our bikes in front of the neighboring house and shared the eggs. We needed to act very quickly.

The Fabray house was a two-story whitewashed house with a well-kept front yard with an apple tree in the middle. I could feel that Rachel was afraid. She stood beside the tree as if considering whether or not she should shoot. I took a quick look around the house. Downstairs lights were out and the garage door was open perhaps because of some repair work. For whatever reason, I took it as a gift. Egging Russell Fabray's car was good business. I didn't waste my time. I emptied my bag of eggs in record time, blew all twelve of my organic missiles through the bodywork and glass. I should have taken a picture of my artwork. Then I heard movement and ran away. Old Russell Fabray was crazy enough to drive his car into someone.

Rachel was still beside the tree throwing some eggs at the same spot on the wall. A light came on and Quinn Fabray appeared at the window. At least I thought it was her, because if it was the other pest, Frannie, she would have screamed by now. I think from that angle and distance, Quinn wouldn't recognize us, so I reached into Rachel's and threw an egg in her direction. I hit the window despite having aimed into the room, but it was enough to make that girl get out of there.

"Run! Let's go home!" I took the bag of eggs from Rachel and she complied. She always obeyed. My sister ran to her bike. We had a meeting point for these situations.

Old Fabray left the house with a pistol. He was crazy. A homophobic, racist psychopath. When he pointed the gun at me, on instinct I threw the bag with the rest of the eggs towards him, to hit him. I think I was successful because it gave me time to run and get my bike. I started pedaling without looking back until, at the end of the street, I felt an impact on my back. It hurt and I fell to the lawn. But there was no time to cry. I got back on my bike and continued racing. I knew he was on my tail because I heard another shot. It was a relief that he'd missed this one.

My back was burning and I wanted to cry. Only I couldn't because the tears would blur my vision and I might fall again. It was best to resist as long as I could. It was a relief when I realized Russell Fabray was no longer on my tail. I took a deep breath and slowed down the pace until I found Rachel on the corner of the street that preceded ours. Only then could I cry. Rachel lifted T-shirt to see the damage.

"It was nothing!" She said in a shaky voice and I was sure she was lying. "I think it was just the impact of that paintball gun. But I think we're going to have some work to get that paint off."

"OK!" I wiped away my tears and we walked home.

Our house had the lights off, except for my parents' room, whose window faced the street. Rachel and I were careful to leave our bikes at the side of the house again so as not to arouse suspicion. We entered through the kitchen door, went up the stairs very carefully and locked ourselves in my room. I don't know how we manage everything without having our parents catch us. I also don't know how I even made it up the stairs with my legs as wobbly as Jell-O. I sat on my bed and Rachel took one more good look at the shot I took in the back.

"I need to bandage your back!" Rachel snapped and ran into our bathroom.

Papi had taught us countless times how to disinfect wounds and bandage. That's what Rachel did to me as I bit my pillow to keep from screaming. The ink bullet pierced my shirt and impacted my skin. I was only able to relax when Rachel put on the gauze after having done all the procedure. She pulled me onto the bed and covered me with the sheet and blanket on top. Then she moved to put away our little pharmacy while I stayed quiet, whimpering softly because the pain in my back was still considerable. I could ask Papi for medicine, but that would have to reveal our adventure. It was better to bear the pain.

Minutes later, I felt my bed sway and Rachel lay down next to me.

I woke up with my sister as my big spoon, even though she was smaller than me. I didn't care. We got ready in silence for another day at school. Shortly after, I saw Quinn Fabray at the lockers. She looked at me and I thought she wanted to say soomething. I know she would never recognize me because, but she could connect the dots regarding my undisguised back pain and the gunshot that her dad possibly talked about. She might also have recognized Rachel.

"Hey." Quinn greeted me. She never exchanged a word with me. That was suspicious!

"Hey." I answered not knowing what her intentions were.

Quinn said no more and kept whatever it was to herself, as usual.

...

I watched Quinn for a week at school and she still didn't say a single word about the egg episode. I had already heard her talking about the criminals who threw toilet paper in the garden and in the tree. What about the eggs? Nothing! Maybe she didn't recognize us. If she did, she never mentioned it.