February 18, 2012

(Rachel)

"Santy, I don't understand you. Half of your closet is taken up with short dresses that stick to your body. The other half is just jeans, jackets and band t-shirts! It's like two different people sharing the same space!" I took a good look at my sister's closet in a rare moment when she allowed it. The clock read twenty past five in the morning.

"Now that you realize it?" She said as she zipped up her suitcase.

"You would need a more suitable outfit to see a musical on Broadway."

"First: I'm not going to New York to see musicals, unlike you. Second, I'm not going to see a damn musical. Third, if I have the opportunity to go out, it's going to be to a concert, not the theater. Fourth, even if I wanted to go to the theater, I think my blouses, boots, and pants are perfectly appropriate."

"I still think..."

"Ray, I'm going to New York to take a damn test, just to check if I'm good enough to study at a super nerd school, okay? I think my White Stripes T-shirt and these faded jeans will be perfectly adequate. Why am I bringing dresses if I'm not interested in looking good for anyone?"

I looked seriously at the sister. Santana had prepared a bigger suitcase than mine. I separated the clothes we would wear in the competition plus two changes of clothes and a pair of pajamas. It was more than enough for a weekend. Not Santana. In addition to the competition stuff, she packed a bag to spend three full days in New York, one of which she would spend at Stuyvesant High School taking an admissions test. If she passed, and my intuition said she would, she would move to New York for the summer, and do her senior year of high school there. It was very strange to think about it.

"What are the real chances of you getting into Stuyvesant?" I sat on the bed as I watched Santana pack a small handbag.

"Remote... I don't know... how would I know?" She mumbled. "Are you sure you want to discuss this at five in the morning?"

"How remote? You're a genius!"

"I'm not a genius, I just can think with numbers. That doesn't qualify me as one. I don't know what the capital of Bolivia is if you ask me. Don't forget that the education I receive at McKinley is inferior to what is seen at Stuyvesant. I hear the students there learn college level calculus. All of them. It's not just one group in narrow. How can I compete with that?"

"Even with you taking advanced math class?"

Santana grumbled. She didn't like to be reminded that she attended McKinley's super-nerd class, as she used to say. It was a class attended by only six students: those who had above-normal IQs and needed special stimulation. Santana was like that with math. She didn't like to talk about it, but she told me that she spends most of her time in silence listening to the teacher and doing exercises. She interacts little with her classmates in class, except in group dynamics. The boys in her class (she is the only girl) are part of the school math team, which is a club Santana has always stayed away from.

I think Santana was hostile to her classmates because the boys weren't exactly attractive. Once the boys in the math club placed sixth in the national contest. Stuyvesant took first place. They had a celebration which my sister made a point of not attending. On the other hand, Santana enjoyed being tested academically. She had little patience with the trivial, and her calculus teacher was her main victim. It bordered on bullying. But Santana continued to take every math class available, because they were an easy A for her.

"Do you think we'll get through the regionals this time?" I changed the subject.

"Our technical stage number is very good, even if controversial. Honestly, I think it's our strongest. But if we make it past the first round, the original songs will make an impact. We have to think that this time we need to eliminate 11 teams to get to nationals."

"What worries me is that the only team we know about are the Warblers. At least we know they are predictable. Blaine should sing something by Pink, or Katy Perry, or any other pop song that's in the Billboard top 10 for the week."

"True!" Santana giggled. "On the other hand, in the ensemble factor, they are superior. If a cappella were a mandatory number, we would be lost, because we are almost a group of soloists and our harmonizations are usually weak." I started to smile, which confused Santana. "What?"

"I never imagined discussing technical aspects of choir with you even in my best dreams!"

"You should pour water on your face. We're leaving in a bit." My sister finished packing her carry-on bag.

"Is Brittany going with us?"

"No... she opted to go on the bus with the others. It'll just be you and me this time."

"I don't know why we can't invite Finn."

"If I already find it a horror to be in the same environment with that idiot for professional reasons, imagine in my own car? It makes me sick to my stomach to know that you're back with him."

"I have no interest in anyone else."

"Because you don't want to. You've got it into your head that he's the only person worth having, and that's why you're stuck with this idiot. If you'd let yourself, a lot of interesting people would come your way... like in London, when you picked up that hottie."

I turned red every time Santana brought up the subject of London. I exchanged a few messages with Laura, but she disappeared from my life after a few months. The good, sweet memories remained. I had fun with Laura, no doubt.

"Okay, I can try to open myself up more... except we're talking about McKinley High in Lima. It's not like you have any moral standing to give me that kind of advice, since you've been stuck with Noah and Brittany all these years."

"At least Brittany is perfect in her own way, and Puck is good in bed. They're not Captain America-esque douchebags, like Finn is. Not to mention, little sister, that he's shit in bed."

"Stop talking about him like that!"

"I'll stop as soon as you stop putting him in the middle of our conversation."

I took Santana's suitcase and dragged it down the stairs. I passed Papi and didn't even say hello. Santana's disdain for Finn irritated me. They had a past, and they didn't like each other. I understood that part. I just expected her to act a little more superior in exchange for peace. After all, Finn and I were getting along again, and getting back together officially was a matter of semantics. Santana was wrong. It's not that I closed my eyes to other people. I had Jesse and I even had Noah. I went to second base with Blaine, who is gay (okay I was drunk and don't remember it right). But Finn was always the one who filled my feelings and wants. There was no one else.

I put the Santana's trunk next to mine. Papi went ahead to put everything into our car. The plan was to get to our grandparents' house first, and then head to the theater in Cleveland. The competitions would take place over two days. On the first, 12 would perform and seven would be eliminated. The top five would return the next day where only one would qualify for the grand nationals. The choir would spend the night in the hostel, but it would be silly to face a collective room if we had something more comfortable. Besides, Santana wouldn't be staying with the team even though she had a trip to New York scheduled. The house was open in case a few more friends decided to stay there and save money. It was possible that the girls in the group would join us. That was also money saved for the possible nationals.

We left Lima at six in the morning. We took with us a good luck kiss from Papi, who couldn't be there because of work. Otherwise, the journey was uneventful. We talked little during the hour and a half drive, and arrived in Cleveland in time to have breakfast with our beloved grandparents. Zaide was excited about the trip to New York with Santana. He was convinced that my sister would be able to pass the test and thus have access to the best possible education and preparation to continue the family business. Bubbee, on the other hand, seemed more interested in the competition. The arts were always a subject for her.

"Why can't I go today?" Bubbee asked slightly offended.

"Because it's the most tiring day. Then, the best numbers are always made on the second day." Santana argued. What she didn't want was for bubbee to see the first number which would leave her the old Jewish woman shocked.

"What about our friends sleeping over?" I asked.

"I see no objection." Zaide replied.

That was the way he used to authorize certain things within his own house. When Zaide spoke in the imperative, there was not much room left for bubbee to disagree and change his mind.

"I will tell the young ladies to prepare the attached house." It was a version of the pool house at my house. The difference was that there was no pool at the mansion, and the outhouse was meant to serve as a private apartment for special guests. "How many are there?"

"Five, apart from Rachel and me... assuming we sleep in our room here."

"Nonsense!" Bubbee smiled. "They're your friends and I bet you'll want to stay with them. When you get home from the competition, and I hope with good news, you'll find the annex house properly prepared to receive them all."

We left for the theater. I drove my car, and Santana had the pleasure of driving the brand new Cadillac from Zaide. The car felt like a spaceship because of its feature-packed dashboard and its feathery smoothness. You could barely hear the engine roar. Not even my father's Honda was as good. One of the first things I recognized as soon as I arrived at the competition site was the New Directions charter bus parked. Our team went straight to the venue because of the delayed departure while still in Lima. Better, because the girls' luggage could already be transferred to the trunk of the two cars.

"Rachel excuse me, but we're going to draw straws to see who comes back with Santana." Mercedes joked as she placed her suitcase in the trunk of the cadillac.

"Fine by me!" Santana smiled.

I was taken aback by Quinn's approach with a camera in hand. She smiled and took a picture of me. I didn't know she was into photography, let alone had a professional camera. She seemed lighter after leaving the cheerios. She was even prettier, if that was possible.

"That one will be great!" She smiled and showed me the result. Impeccable.

"I didn't know you took pictures!"

"Ever since I've known myself. It was one of the few things my father couldn't take from me when he kicked me out of the house. That camera stayed in my bag."

"Are you going to photograph the event?"

"I was thinking more about our backstage."

"We could set up a gallery in our rehearsal room! It would be inspiring, especially if we manage to win."

"That's a good idea..."

"Rachel, Quinn..." Mike called out to us.

It was time to get dressed, warm up our voices and focus. New Directions would be the seventh group. Due to the number of teams, only one song was allowed for each in a performance of minimum two minutes and maximum five minutes. And so proceeded the competition, which began in the middle of the afternoon with a full theater. Most of the ensembles opted for familiar tunes from the popular repertoire. Things like "Sound of Silence", a great adaptation of "Let it Be" and another unusual one of "Gimme Shelter" by the Stones and "Snow (Hey oh)" by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

It was a shock when our team walked in wearing black matte glitter outfits, as if they were going out for a party at night, and Artie started singing "Blame It (on the alcohol)". The rest of the choir followed with a sensual choreographed dance, very much in keeping with the song. Artie, Mercedes, Puck, and Santana led the solos, and the rest played the part of composing the vocals. The audience was divided. Choral competitions traditionally attract older people. Vocal Adrenalina, which had a rejuvenated audience, went straight to nationals. The younger ones gave a standing ovation. The older ones applauded respectfully. That created tension backstage.

"I knew it was a setlist bad choice!" Finn complained. "We should have prepared another new song for that part too!"

"We were impeccable." Santana countered. "You're complaining because we didn't accept another pathetic duet with Rachel!"

"Rachel and I's pathetic duet won us a championship!" Finn stood up angrily from one of the dressing room chairs and suffered the consequences.

"What? Because in your last duet, we lost!" Santana put her hand on her waist and stared at him defiantly. I followed everything in the corner of the room. I was tense and silent. I wanted to keep my neutrality between Finn and my sister.

"Do you two want to stop?" Mercedes stepped between them. "The result isn't out yet. We don't know anything! So don't start beating each other up until after the jurors give their verdict."

The group was silent. Tension reigned until Schuester called the team together for the results of grading the next day. It was close. New Directions was the final qualifier. We hugged, but we were tense. Santana and Finn didn't even greet each other. Finn and I shared a discreet kiss on the lips. Quinn and Sam did the same. Mike and Tina were less discreet. It didn't matter, we had accomplished our goal, which was to qualify for Sunday. Then we'd get to show off our oroginal songs.

Santana drove Mercedes, Tina and Brittany in the cadillac. I was left with the responsibility of driving Lauren and Quinn. I drove following my sister back to our grandparents' house.

"Turn on the radio!" Lauren demanded along the way.

"I'd appreciate the silence after all the singing and noise." Quinn relaxed in the passenger seat next to me. "If it wasn't late and we didn't have a competition tomorrow afternoon, I'd like to go to the banks of the Erie. It must be like seeing the ocean."

"Except for the big waves." I smiled. "You've never seen the lake?"

"I've never seen it up close!" I found it surprising that everyone from Ohio had been to the lake.

"The neighborhood where my grandparents live is close to the lake. You can walk there, although it's better to go by bike. It's no fun to go by car. There's a public park with a beach. At least that's where my grandparents used to Santana and me. If you want and we have time, I can take you there in the morning."

"That would be great."

When we arrived at the house, we introduced the girls to our grandparents, only to then retire to the attached house. They were impressed by the elegance and comfort of the place. The banquet also made a great impression.

"San, I already thought your pool house was spectacular. But this here..." Mercedes munched on a piece of chocolate cake.

"I know... What a day!" My sister ate a piece of sandwich.

"Here's a DVD collection." Tina caught the attention of the others.

"Zaide doesn't know what Netflix is." Santana scanned the collection. "How about 'Slumdog Millionare'?"

"There it are the complete Harry Potter collection!" Mercedes was more interested in fantasy movies.

"Anything but horror movie!" I finished my snack.

"Let's go for Harry Potter. At least it's guaranteed fun!" Lauren was more rational.

"There's popcorn in the cupboards and the microwave is right over there." Santana informed.

"I'll make the popcorn!" Quinn volunteered.

She took three packages and popped the popcorn. Quinn didn't find any bowls, but there were several colorful acrylic dessert containers. She filled them with popcorn and distributed them among the girls. Then Quinn sat down next to me on the mattress. I didn't feel like watching a movie. I was tired from the day. Before I knew it, I was asleep.

...

February 19, 2012

(Rachel)

As soon as I started to wake up, I was completely relaxed and comfortable. Then I noticed that there was a body fitted to mine perfectly. I thought it was Santana. I was used to dawning like this every time we slept in the same bed. But soon I realized that there was something different. I was startled when I saw that my sister was lying alone on the mattress next to me. Then I noticed that the arm around my waist was pale. I looked back discreetly. Quinn. My heart raced. I didn't know if I was embarrassed or happy about it. I mean, I had always longed for closeness with Quinn, for her friendship. But what I felt was strange, different. I couldn't define it. Maybe it was better to just ignore it. Maybe Quinn was like Santana, and the fact that she fit against my body during the night was circumstantial.

Carefully, I removed her arm from my waist and stood up. I ran to the room I shared with Santana inside the main house, where our luggage was. This was a room big enough for the two of us, which was occupied only twice, maybe three times a year. There were two single beds arranged next to each other, separated by a bedside table with a lamp on top, we had a chest of drawers, a small closet, a reasonable mirror and two pictures painted by a Jewish artist known to my grandparents. No carpets, because that was a forbidden accessory in the home of an elderly couple - the exception was the music room which was carpeted.

Of course, there was also our private bathroom. I grabbed a change of clothes and did my morning hygiene. I took a quick shower and began to dry my hair quietly, taking advantage of my sister's absence. They say you can't think of the devil because it appears: Santana got into the bathroom five minutes later and she was grumbling as usual.

"Why so early?" She sat on the toilet and started to pee.

"It's almost eight." I replied.

"That's early when you don't have class."

"We have a competition in the afternoon."

"It's... in the afternoon..." Santana pushed me lightly to make room in front of the sink. "I barely got any sleep."

"Really? When I woke up, you looked like you wouldn't wake up so early."

"Because I didn't get to sleep any more until after four in the morning." Santana grumbled once more.

"What happened?"

"Anxiety... I should have come here instead of staying in the backyard house. Geez, I knew Mercedes snored, but I never thought Tina could be worse. Poor thing about Mike."

"Why don't you have some breakfast and try to get some more sleep?"

"What about the girls? Don't we have to play hostess?"

"You can leave it to me. Go to sleep, Santy. You need to be in one piece for today's competition."

I noticed my sister in the mirror and saw the shadows below her eye. It wasn't just the competition: the trip to New York was also taking away her sleep. When we went downstairs for coffee, one of the housekeepers was already preparing a feast to bring to the pool house for the girls. Bubbee also seemed in a great mood because of the full house. We had coffee - the girls loved the little luxury - Santana retreated to our room in the house without a word, and I watched Quinn handle the camera.

"Are you going to take more behind-the-scenes photos today?"

"Yes, but I was also thinking of taking some pictures of Cleveland, since I know little about this city. If I remember correctly, a certain someone promised me a tour of Eire."

"I promised?"

"Don't you remember?"

I looked at Quinn, then looked at the girls. I guess they were okay without me.

"Come with me." I held her hand.

"Are you going to take me to the lake?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want to?"

"Sure!"

We got into my car and in less than five minutes we were in the park on the edge of the huge freshwater lake. It was just a piece of public land since most of the city's shoreline has been sadly subdivision and privatized. We would have to walk a little further, to the Rose Hill museum, to appreciate the beach a little better.

"That's beautiful!" Quinn smiled and took off her shoes as soon as she stepped onto the sand, despite the cold and windy weather. "It's like the sea."

"Only freshwater!" I smiled. It was an amazing sight to see a beautiful girl like Quinn frolicking in those frozen waters, trying every now and then to push her blonde hair out of her face.

I was uncomfortable standing in front of any portion of water that was deeper than the height of my hips, which is why the idea of getting my feet wet didn't appeal to me.

"Why don't you come over here?" Quinn raised her arm and gestured with her hand, inviting me.

"I'm good right here..."

I was grateful that Quinn didn't question my motives. Instead, she picked up the camera and began taking a series of photos. First of the landscape, and then she pointed the camera at me.

"Smile!"

"With a landscape like that, are you going to photograph me? Don't waste space on your memory card, Quinn."

"You're wrong, Rachel." She looked at me in a way, as if to unravel my soul: like no one had ever looked at me before. Then she pointed to the camera. "You are an essential part of the landscape." If I didn't know Quinn well, if she hadn't gotten pregnant with Puck and was Sam's girlfriend, I could have sworn she was flirting with me.

"The weather's nice." I tried to make conversation to disguise how good it felt to have Quinn's attention. "You need to see this place during sunset in the summer. The sky turns bright pink and lilac. It's wonderful. We don't get skies like that in Lima. You'd get good pictures."

"Do you come here a lot? I mean, in Cleveland?" Quinn finally stopped clicking and hung the machine around her neck, walking toward me.

"At least three times a year to visit zaide and bubbee."

"Why do you call your grandparents that? Zaide and bubbee? I think it's cute, but I don't understand what it means. Is it their nickname?"

"Zaide and bubbee literally mean grandpa and grandma in Hebrew. That's all. The Berries represent the Jewish part of the family. Santana and I have learned to speak a little Hebrew, which we use basically on holidays, like Hanukkah."

"What about Spanish?"

"We speak Spanish more often because of papi and abuela. My grandmother's English is terrible, so it's better to speak in Spanish with her. Most of the Lopezes lives in Lima, and when we meet, Spanish is spoken more than English. My father speaks a lot of Spanish with us at home."

"It must be fun to grow up in such ethnic and cultural diversity. Too bad that's not the case with my family. The Fabrays are typical Americans and traditionalists. It would be a scandal to have someone in the family with a darker skin tone than mine."

"I don't know any other reality. Maybe that's why I find your way of thinking so strange."

"What you say out of your mouth isn't always what you really think." Quinn had greenish eyes that changed color with the light. At that moment, when she faced me, her eyes were completely green. They were beautiful and intimidating at the same time.

"That doesn't seem wise." I looked away and turned back to the lake.

"Not everyone has the luxury of showing themselves as crystal clear as you do, Lopez 2."

"Really? Does that mean there's another Quinn Fabray I should meet?"

"It will depend on how much you would be willing to find out." That conversation took an uncomfortable turn. Quinn was challenging me like a predator, and I don't think that was just a game. She really was one, she acted like one. I don't know if it would be wise to play her game.

"I think we'd better go." I cut the subject. "Santana is probably still asleep and the girls are alone at my grandparents' house. Not to mention we have a competition to face."

The drive to home was silent. Quinn didn't exchange another word with me, not even when we left for the theater after lunch. Zaide and bubbee accompanied us. They went in their car carrying three of the girls while we shared spaces with the luggage. I was dreading driving back alone and opted for the bus with the others to Lima. Santana would land in New York on Monday morning along with zaide. The car would stay in Cleveland so she could return home as soon as she arrived from the metropolis.

The girls occupied a single dressing room. We would be the third to perform, which was a bad position. But we had a lot of confidence and certainty that it would work out. We were prepared, well thought out and had a big asset up our sleeve. Who else would have thought of original songs?

I put on my dress. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate as much as possible. I tried not to talk to anyone before I went on stage. I warmed up my voice, stretched, and stared at the stage for ten minutes before I went on. When I finally did, with sure steps, I started singing "Get it Right" with my heart. Santana was the second to got into the stage and had to stand three steps back and two steps to the left side. She would harmonize with me. In the middle of the song, the other girls appeared and completed the chorus. Santana joined them in a smooth and correct choreography while I gave it my best shot. It felt like being in another world, a strange sensation of floating on stage. I heard nothing, saw no one. The next thing I knew, I noticed people in the audience giving me a standing ovation. "Loser Like Me" was performed to a supportive crowd.

We were perfect and we won.

Everyone was celebrating and I could hardly believe that we had succeeded with a composition of mine, a suggestion inspired by my mother's experiences. I saw the group hugging, some people kissing. And everyone was greeting me. But just as I needed to be alone to get on stage, I also needed to isolate myself to discharge the adrenaline, catch my breath and tame my emotions. The dressing room was empty and that's where I discreetly headed. I put my hand to my face and took several deep breaths. Heard the door open. I was sure it was Finn, but I preferred to keep my back turned.

"Everyone is happy for the win, but I don't think anyone will ever know the true meaning it has for me. It's New York, the city I love most in this world, from which I am destined. I feel it! I've been there a few times, only now everything is different. The way I get there will be different. It was a conquest with the heart and for all the good feeling I have for you..."

When I turned towards Finn, I was startled. It was Quinn. I didn't have time to apologize or say anything else. She put her hand on my cheek and pulled me in for a kiss on the lips. It was a firm, determined touch. My heart raced. It pounded so hard I could have had a heart attack. I didn't know if it was good or bad, only that I had never felt that way in my life. Quinn broke the kiss and took a step back. She looked at me for a second before turning away and walking out of the dressing room without saying a word, without explaining herself to me. I couldn't speak either. I stood there, perplexed, still feeling the pressure of her lips on mine. There was a strange feeling in my stomach... and it was incredible.