(Santana)

It was a glorious Thanksgiving holiday. I feel like my parents are going to get back on track the way I left Shelby and my dad in Lima. The rest is up to them. Getting this part of my life sorted out gave me more energy to do the final exams and hand in the final papers for the subjects I took this semester. The only event that would stop me studying like crazy would be the opening night of "Across The Universe" exclusively for guests and the press. Something that would happen before the real open night for the general public the following day. Rachel was apprehensive, nervous. It was a relatively sophisticated production for the off-Broadway format that generated expectations among the public and the press. Rachel was worried about facing, for the first time, the promotional events and interviews that the cast would be subjected to. The whole week would be like this, so much so that she wouldn't even go to her classes at NYU. Well, not that it made any difference, because she didn't care much about college.

I couldn't wait to get through the final 15 days of my semester at Columbia. After that: winter break! A few weeks out of this madness, but enough to relax my mind. I don't know what Rachel's plans were, but I was going to celebrate my 19th birthday with a party.

"Look who's back with a smile on his face!" Andrew walked up beside me. He was in a good mood.

"One day I have to go to Lima." Izabella smiled. "To wipe the frown off Lopez's face, it must be a very nice place!"

"It's just my hometown, where my parents live... nothing much."

I went to the last class of the day: Economics 101 with Lucy. We had the luxury of exchanging text messages during class. It was the end of the semester and all Professor Guy Harris was doing was revising to the exam at the end of the week. At the end of class came the surprise: the professor asked me to come to his office. It wasn't exactly unusual for a professor to summon a student. A few times I'd been called to the office to receive some instruction on assignments, more serious placements on projects and even to break up with Professor John Thompson because he'd given me a 'C'. I never got an 'A' at Columbia, but my grades were considered very good, always ranging between 'B-' and 'A-'. That 'C' was an offense, a stain that was hard to swallow. I got a chance to redo some points and ended up with a 'B'. I was happy.

"Miss Berry-Lopez." Professor Harris didn't look like he was going to give good news. "Please have a seat."

"Is there a problem, Professor?"

He showed me two papers. One was mine. The other was Joss Faour's.

"I have two papers here: yours, handed in on the last day of the deadline, and Mr. Faour's, handed in on the first day. They both have astonishing similarities, entire passages that are identical."

"Are you implying that I cheated? That I took that idiot's work and handed it to you?"

"I don't imply Berry-Lopez and I haven't asked a question yet."

"Do you have to?"

"Miss Berry-Lopez, did you copy your colleague's work?"

"Of course not! That's absurd! I would never copy a piece of work, especially from a stupid man like Faour who is only here because of his father's money."

"This is your chance to clear up this mystery. To tell your side of the story. As you know, I'm going to have to punish one of you, not to mention that cases of this nature are taken to the Council, where the student can be suspended and even expelled. So, what do you say?"

"What do I say? That I've been robbed! That they got into my computer somehow and took my work. That's obvious!"

"How do you explain the fact that you handed it in last?"

"There were conceptual mistakes that I only realized when I did my last reading and reviewed some notes. This made me deliver the paper a few days late... because I had to redo parts."

"Can you cite examples?" I took the paper I'd handed in and started leafing through it until I got to the points I wanted to prove. If Faour stole it from me and handed it in first, then his version is wrong.

"On page 10, my initial observations about the deficit ratios in the external sector and the private sector were loose because I hadn't considered the value of savings. On page 18, the initial hypothetical values of interest rates would never match the resulting scenario and I had to change them and, finally, on page 25, my conclusion had a simple but very gross bibliographical error. The quote is from Samuelson, not Krugman. I made a mistake because they are both Keynesian authors, and I was doing a dialog about their ideas on how to do an economic analysis."

"Do you have any more proof that you're telling the truth?"

"My moleco!"

I rummaged through my backpack and pulled out a small notebook. It was a safety mechanism that I had learned to use at Stuyvesant: whenever I was developing a project, I had to write down my thoughts, ideas and observations in a moleco, as we called it there. That way we would have a faithful record of the construction process. I took the habit to Columbia. I had a notebook for each of my six classes, and I always took them with me. I took Economics 101's moleco and handed it to Professor Harris. He'd take note that I thought he was an old bore and theorized that he might have collections of printed briefs and a secret relationship with street whores, but that was the least of my problems.

"I also have the date history of the file for this job, in case you want to check." I took out my computer and my external hard drive. I showed him the date of the file in question. "You'll see that the date matches that of my moleco." I printscreen everything and sent the files to professor Harris' email.

"Anything else you wanted to show me?"

"Not that I can think of at the moment."

"Very well, Miss Berry-Lopez." He leaned back in his chair, already scanning my observations. "I'll get back to you tomorrow with an official position."

I left his office on shaky legs. I would rather have a 'C' to being accused of stealing a colleague's work. Matt, Izabella, Lucy and Andrew were waiting for me near the restaurant. We had agreed to have a beer. When I met the four of them, I hugged Izabella tightly.

"You need you all to help me in case I'm in trouble."

...

December 04, 2013

(Santana)

I wasn't exaggerating when I did a real war operation against Joss Faour and his fraternity cronies. I could admit to being accused of many things, but I wasn't a cheater. I studied hard, for real, late into the night. I could easily prove my innocence. What I needed to be armed for was the aftermath. Faour and the others wouldn't let it go. Andrew knew all of Columbia's geek society and we summoned them to hack all the absurd millionaires in our vicinity. Izabella knew about some of the dirty things of the nightclub crowd, but I'd leave that ammunition for last. I wouldn't expose my friend unnecessarily. Matt bought his weed from the same dealer who supplied cocaine and pellets to the fraternity parties.

Rachel insisted on going to Columbia with me because she said she would explode if she wasn't updated every ten minutes, even though she had a press conference later that afternoon (the first of her life) with the cast of Across The Universe. As I knew full well that it wasn't an exaggeration, I allowed her to accompany me to classes and my almost routine. Rachel only put me through two or three embarrassments, and that would have been the talk of the day if it hadn't been for my little problem to be solved. In the end, I was even grateful for my sister's presence because it distracted me. I met up with all the members of my task force at lunchtime in Andrew's dormitory, which was the closest and most decent apartment of my friends. My team consisted of my usual friends, plus two Andrew's friends that were also hackers.

"I swear I had a different view of Columbia students." Rachel commented when she saw that the team wasn't exactly made up of well-dressed, wealthy people.

"It's just that you only met the frat boys that day." The people at NYU were less elitist than those at Columbia. That was a fact. But every good university will always have its bad elements. I looked at the group of allies. "What have we got?"

"The transcript proves that Joss Faour isn't exactly brilliant. And the date on the file is the day before the material was delivered. It's impossible to do a job like this overnight. Simple." Andrew showed a few pieces of material. "This guarantees your innocence, in case you need more ammunition." He then took the spreadsheet from her and accessed a homemade porn video. "We also found two sex tapes with small orgies on Columbia's premises and..." He put in a point, about halfway down the time bar. The image of Brandon Stoles and Anita Laurence consuming cocaine on top of another girl's body appeared. "These guys are amateur idiots. They didn't even bother with security mechanisms. This was simple to hack."

"I guess that's enough to keep them away from you?" Rachel made a disgusted face at the home videos.

"What a ridiculous dick, isn't it?" Izabella commented to Rachel. Little did I know that my sister had never experienced one of these inside her: Rachel only had Quinn. But as she didn't want to play the fool, she agreed as if she were an expert.

"The only problem is that stealing information is a crime." Lucy warned. She was the group's future lawyer. "As disgusting as this stuff is, it's technically information. If these guys approach you, you tell them you have proof, but don't say what it is. If they insist, we'll spread these videos anonymously. We can appeal to the faculty's honor council, which is very strict about relations between students. Anyway, on Monday, when you called me, I gave the Dunas guy I know a ring."

"Dunas?" Rachel looked confused.

"It's the local secret society that everyone knows about." Lucy explained. "The thing is, these guys have ambitions to join them, but a scandal like this would ruin their chances, you know?"

"Well, if they don't back down and leave it alone, I can spread the videos without getting caught." One of Andrew's geeky friends said. "I got it."

"I don't want any trouble with them." I said. I really didn't. I might have hated them in college, but it was likely that in the future I would have to do business in common with these people. The world I'd be entering was limited and dirty that way. "I just want them to understand that if they don't fuck with us, we don't fuck with them."

I looked at the clock. It was 20 minutes until the meeting with Professor Harris. I took the data from Andrew and said goodbye to the others. Rachel went with me. She insisted that she would be by my side for the best or worst news. We got into the professor's office, which smelled of pipes and old wood. I kind of liked the smell and look of a 19th century English professor's office, but I was too tense to appreciate the decor. He was taking notes and barely looked up when I sat down. Rachel took the chair next to mine and stretched her neck to find out what the old professor was writing down.

"Who's that?" he asked, still taking notes.

"My sister..."

"Another Berry-Lopez?" His tone of voice was pure spite. "That's great!" He stopped making notes and opened the drawer. I recognized my work. With a huge red brush on the cover.

"What? I didn't deserve a 'B+'. I'm sorry, professor, but that was a paper for at least an 'A'!" I suddenly forgot about the whole file theft affair. The professor ignored my indignation.

"Now you think you're a professor and you're in a position to know what grade to give each academic production?" He reached into the drawer for my moleco and threw them on the table with a certain contempt. "I'm not a man who wears swimming trunks, Miss Berry-Lopez. Much less printed ones." Professor Harris seemed to have taken my complaints about the brat more seriously than the glue affair. "I hope you have better things to consider next semester than speculating that I date prostitutes." Rachel looked at me dumbfounded. I gestured for her to ignore it.

"Next semester? You're failing me? How can you, if my averages are safe? And I haven't even taken the final exam in your subject yet!"

"Unfortunately I don't have that power... not with your academic performance and your innocence in this case."

"But... so you know I'm innocent? Logic has finally prevailed in the face of this nonsense!" I felt Rachel grab my arm. But it was an outburst.

"Will you get a grip, Miss Berry-Lopez?" Professor Harris argued.

"Sorry... but about next semester, I can't take Macroeconomic analysis with you, professor. I wouldn't be able to: it's a year-long course and there are prerequisites I haven't taken yet." I frowned.

"I'm referring to the Economics 101 tutorial."

"What?" Tutoring assignments were worth credits and a CV, but they weren't exactly pleasant or straightforward. Especially if it was supervised by scowling professors like Mr. Harris. The strange thing about it wasn't the tutoring itself, but why students from earlier semesters were given preference. "Is this all a sordid revenge because I called you boring asshole?"

"Unfortunately, Miss Berry-Lopez, your academic performance is annoyingly satisfactory. One of the best I've seen from a freshman in a decade. The 'B+' you complained so much about was the highest grade in the class. Since I don't have any graduate students next semester, the position is open and I really want to punish you for your bad attitudes in class... and for this headache."

"I didn't steal the paper. It's mine!"

"You didn't steal, but you let yourself be stolen from. Now if you don't mind, this is the contract that you're making a commitment to me for a semester." Professor Harris took out the tutoring commitment document. He put the paper in front of me and his pen. I quickly read the terms and, without much choice, signed.

"Professor..." Rachel spoke up for the first time. "If my sister managed to prove her innocence, what will happen to the other student?"

"He lost the credit for this matter. The rest is up to the Council. If Mr. Faour appeals, there will be a trial in which he and your sister will be forced to appear and confront each other, just as I will have to justify and uphold my decision in her favor. But I know it won't come to that. Not when staying at Columbia is at risk." He closed the subject.

"So..." I paused for a long moment. "Tutoring..."

"Next semester. Yes. Extra work for you. It's my way to punish you for this headache. Any other questions?"

"No, sir." I got my moleco back.

"I assume I'll see you in class on Friday for the finals."

"Yes sir!"

We left the office and started walking through the square between Uris Hall, where most of the of my classes are, and the Low Library.

"So he punished you with a tutorship... which means extra credits." Rachel said, looking out at the winter landscape of the campus. "Despite all the irony and your prrofessor's dismissive tone, he gave you a great compliment. I'm proud!"

"This tutorship might get in the way of me doing an activity that isn't a prerequisite for anything, and isn't even part of the curriculum, but which I was really looking forward to."

"What?"

"Columbia Community Chorus." Rachel raised one eyebrow. A bad habit she had picked up from Quinn. Only in Quinn's case, it meant skepticism and warning. Rachel made the gesture when surprised and, at the same time, demanded answers. "I miss... singing... the community choir is the closest thing to what we had in Lima. It's just one hour, twice a week... two classes. I wouldn't have the time to do anything at night, but the afternoon classes would be great."

"You've taken too many credits." Rachel's tone was disapproving. Well, it's not my fault she took the minimum credits at NYU and should graduate in about eight years at this rate. That's if she doesn't drop out first. I can't be condemned if I want to graduate within the regular four years. "Maybe you should take fewer classes next year and allow yourself to have a little more healthy leisure time, one that isn't partying in your friends' dorms with beer and weed and then ending the day in bed with one of your friends."

"What?"

"Who do you think you're fooling? The smell gets on your clothes."

"I don't do it all the time, okay! And it's been a while since I've had any intimate contact with Matt or Izabella."

"I know you don't, but that doesn't mean I'm any less worried." She crossed her arms and we stopped in the middle of the square. "Before you stuck your face in the books because of your final exams, it almost became a weekly habit... and that video of your friends..."

"Those aren't my friends!"

"But they're your classmates... people who frequent the same places as you within a university, and who have stolen your work. I have the impression that this is the least of the problems they can cause. Santy, these are people you're going to have to deal with from now on. This friends of yours that I met today doesn't seem that much better. Matt... I already didn't like him! Even less when I found out that he's the one who buys the marijuana. Izabella is a stripper, Lucy gives me the creeps and Andrew, I don't know what he does and he seems normal, but he's also a hacker."

"Okay, Izabella works as a stripper to pay for her dorm and to eat. Lucy... she's a psychotic being and I have no justification for her. Matt is a weed dealer, but he doesn't do anything to harm his own people. Andrew is a sweetheart, not to mention one of the funniest nerds I know."

"Still, Santy. Look at how you describe your closest friends from college: stripper, psychotic, drug dealer, hacker!"

"The video really freaked you out, didn't it?" I maneuvered my voice. I couldn't condemn Rachel for worrying about me.

"The theatrical people is no less poisonous, I'm just starting to get to grips with it and learning to defend myself. But Santy..."

"Ray, I've never tried coke or tried anything other than marijuana." I grabbed Rachel's shoulder and looked her right in the eye. "I'll tell you this: I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to repeat daddy. And I'm certainly not going to star in an orgy sex tape. You know I'm smarter than that."

"What if you're not as strong as you think?"

"If I lose control, you'll use the hierarchy on me and help me." We started walking again.

"Do I get to ground you? You grounded me when we were kids!"

"Not in your wildest dreams, hobbit!"

...

December 07, 2013

(Santana)

The theater was packed for the opening night for press and guests. Tickets were sold out for the first three weeks of the show and this excited the producers and the cast. If the promotion was good, the only thing left to do was win over the critics. It was agreed that Rachel would work from Thursday to Sunday for at least six months, because the Wednesday session was for the understudies with promotional tickets. There were two open dress rehearsals, but I didn't go to any. I said I'd rather save my surprise for the occasion. The initial comments were very complimentary and they were already planning another six-month extension.

The lights flashed announcing that the play would start in five minutes and people should settle down. I was in the fourth-row center stage next to Johnny (Mike was working on his own play), my parents, and an empty seat next to me that was supposed to be occupied by Quinn. People had a thing about the front row, an issue that was pure nonsense. Depending on the theater, the front row would give you a kink and you'd even get spat out. In the case of the Public's largest hall, the fourth row was the best. Johnny was a bit down. He and Alana had broken up, and I didn't really understand why. All I know is that my friend was very sad.

Quinn arrived from backstage with a red face and half-torn clothes. She sat down next to me with a cretinous grin on her face, much to papi's horror. Obviously he knew that his daughters were sexually active, but what father likes to know when his daughter is being fucked by someone? I heard his grumble, it wasn't subtle at all and it made Quinn feel slightly embarrassed. Shelby just rolled her eyes. Without Quinn even asking, I offered her a piece of gum. It would be unpleasant to spend an hour and a half next to her smelling sex and Rachel.

"She's calmer now and has started to warm up her voice." Quinn took the gum. "I'm sure she'll be a hit."

"I don't doubt it!"

"I'm nervous." Shelby smiled. "This is your sister's big Broadway debut. It's the first time she'll step onto the stage of a historic theater like this, as a professional and earning the salary of a professional actress. Not to mention that this is worth Tony nominations."

"Have you ever worked in this theater?"

"I've never acted at the Public. I wish I could because I think it's such a stunning space."

The lights went down, the curtains opened and the play began with a short monologue by Steve Zappa, the play's Jude. What followed was a thrilling spectacle of color, dance, music and acting. In addition to the seven main actors, there was the group of 15 ensemble/swings/understudies who were there exclusively to do the stage compositions and occasional choruses. Rachel? Not that I was being a proud sister, but she was the best actress. She was definitely the best singer. I think the only reason she didn't get the role of Lucy was because Sadie was a character who depended on someone with a big voice to work. And no other actress in that cast had a voice as powerful as my sister's. "Across The Universe" made me see how a well-done production could enhance, or at least not spoil, the Beatles' classics. I remembered with shame our attempts to sing Beatles in Lima. Thankfully, we never dared to go through with it in a competition.

Rachel brought tears to my eyes with her solo in "For No One". The first time I heard her sing a cappella, I thought it was beautiful. But with the involvement of the story, the lights, the band, the set... the drama became ten times greater. I thought she would sing this song for Prudence, Sarah's character. But she sang it a capella, acting as the talking cricket for Jude's emotional state. So much so that in this song, my sister sings at the back of the stage, while Jude and Lucy perform in the foreground. There was a moment when Quinn grabbed my hand tightly. She was staring at Rachel with a look of pride and tears on her face.

Rachel was also excellent in "Why Don't We Do It In The Road" and superb in her rendition of "A Day in The Life" with Steve. The duet with Lucas Hibbs (Jojo) on "Oh! Darling" was very nice, but "Don't Let Me Down" took on an epic feel. I just thought my sister's performance of "Helter Skelter" fell short. She was technically perfect, but she didn't manage to give the song the fury it needed. It was a really complicated song that didn't suit Rachel's sweet, albeit very powerful, voice. Bono Vox also was a flop when he tried to record "Helter Skelter", if that's any consolation. In the rest of the songs, Rachel either took part in the scene, or did the chorus or a few solo lines.

I didn't think much of Rachel's kissing scene with Sarah Kleist's Prudence. My sister had a much hotter scene with Lucas, including a hand on her breast and a not-so-subtle grab on her ass during a hint of a sex scene. I don't even think Quinn's jealousy at the kiss was because Sarah was a woman, but because she was blonde and looked like Quinn. Rachel commented a lot about the play's backstage, but didn't say much about Sarah specifically. I didn't think she had gotten into character more than she should have. For me, it was Quinn who was seeing too much. "Across The Universe" had some daring moments in that sense. Rachel and Lucas' scene was full of passion, almost explosive, but there was no nudity. There was some nudity between Steve and Heather in a love scene between Jude and Lucy characters. It was a sensual moment, but it was tasteful and made perfect sense for the story. "Across The Universe", the theatrical piece, ended epically with "All You Need Is Love", which began with the main couple, then all the other actors joined in the song, which called the audience to sing along with them.

It was an explosion of applause. I was thrilled for Rachel, for the well-done play, for the very positive reaction of the audience throughout the story. Happy for Quinn, who was part of the production team for "Across The Universe", despite having to do other work during the process. The lights were turned on and we made our way to the lobby of the Public, where a cocktail party was being held for the opening night. Papi had nothing to drink. In fact, he was scheduled to fly back in the early hours of the morning because he had surgery the next day in the afternoon. From what Papi explained, it was surgery to remove a tumor in the mayor of Lima. When I said that Rachel was his favorite daughter, papi said I was exaggerating, that he liked both of us equally. But he wouldn't make such a sacrifice for me: only for his estrellita. Shelby, on the other hand, had no appointments and would be staying in New York for another day or two. Beth was staying with our grandmother in Columbus.

"I hate the thought of having to pack my things again." My mother said, picking up a glass of dry martini. Then she pointed to Papi, who was talking to Johnny and Quinn. "Do you want to know a secret? Now it's your father who's been offered a job at OSU."

"I can't imagine papi in a classroom."

"It's not really a classroom. It's to take over general surgery at the University Hospital... and teach the students."

"Will he accept?"

"No, because he said the offer wasn't good enough."

"How nice that papi gave you a lesson in career building 101."

"I had a chance to test new waters and I did. Now let's focus a bit on your sister. Can we?"

Shelby said this the moment the director and cast were announced at the cocktail party. My sister was already in her normal clothes: a simple white blouse, jeans and a black jacket. We applauded them and the cast went to greet sponsors, producers, critics and it took a while for Rachel to reach us. She first hugged Papi, who was already running to the airport. We knew he was making a significant sacrifice to be present at his daughter's opening night, because Papi hadn't brought any suitcases: just a backpack. He and Shelby arrived at the airport, went straight to the hotel and then to the theater where they met me. And now he had to get back to Ohio.

Rachel hugged Shelby, who was thrilled. It was only Rachel's second play and it was safe to say that her career had already achieved more than the almost ten years Shelby had spent trying for stardom.

"You weren't so bad. You made it, hobbit." I said as Rachel approached.

"I'm glad I didn't bore you." We hugged and I took the opportunity to whisper in her ear.

"You're the most incredible person in the world, Ray. Thank you for being in my life."

"I love you so much..." She also said in my ear and we pulled apart with our eyes watering. "If it hadn't been for you, if you hadn't picked a fight with papi..."

"I don't think the ends justify the means... but the means are the consequences of the ends..."

"Don't give me philosophy now, Santy. I just want to celebrate with you."

...

December 25, 2013

(Santana)

The reviews of the play were positive. Some of the critics didn't give it top marks and pointed out defects that, frankly, were overlooked by me and, I think, by the general public. Journalists are like that: they speak more to their niche than to the general public. Rachel was given an honorable mention and some reviews have risked talking about Tony nominations for supporting actress. I don't think such an insinuation did her any good; my sister screamed when she read the sentence, getting in the way of me installing the X-Box that papi had given me for my birthday. Speaking of my parents, they were coming back to New York to celebrate the New Year with us. Quinn and I were enjoying winter break, but Rachel was working.

My semester ended well. As expected, the fraternity and millionaires' bitches threatened to appeal and received an immediate response. They understood that this was the wrong people to get involved with. We ended up making a gentleman's agreement where everyone would keep it to themselves. Faour wasn't suspended because his family's dollars weighed him down, but his credits on Economy 101 were withdrawn, which means a failing grade. I didn't bother. I didn't care about them. I cared about mine. I had a clean semester, with good grades and a tutorial shoved down my throat. Zaide was pleased, my parents were proud and Mr. Weiz, on a trip to China, sent a message saying that he had "followed my progress throughout the semester with satisfaction and interest." Sometimes I had the impression that there was something more to Mr. Weiz's enthusiasm for my academic performance. It was too much consideration coming from a stranger.

Papi and Shelby were gradually working out the problems between them. Their problem wasn't a lack of love and sex... as Shelby had once let slip. Shelby's problem was her fear of commitment and Papi's problem was that he committed himself too much. When they manage to find their middle ground, everything will be fine. Since Rachel and I weren't able to celebrate Hanukkah with our grandparents - Rachel and I had our own celebration at home with Quinn and Mike.

Because of Rachel's work, our plans to have a birthday party waned, and the date was marked with lunch and a cake that Quinn had ordered. Rachel and I celebrated Christmas because of the Lopez side of our family, even though we were Jewish. But we didn't give Christmas the same importance that Quinn did, for example. Johnny was still heartbroken about Alana, and said he didn't want to be alone on Christmas. That's why he proposed that we spend a few days in the mountains in Catskill, where he said he knew a nice place and that it was free. We were a little suspicious of this free and cool place, but we went anyway because Johnny wasn't going to put us in a bind. Catskill is a mountain range in central New York State where there is a large park and preserved areas widely used for sports and leisure. The landscape is beautiful.

We rented a car with tires suitable for slippery and snowy roads. I liked car journeys because you could always discover little things about other people. I never imagined that Johnny could be afraid of driving, for example. Mike got carsick easily and he was worse than a pregnant woman. I didn't mind the sway of the car. I did most of the driving and alternated with Quinn on some stretches when I needed to take my eyes off the road. I had an appointment with the ophthalmologist in January and I suspected that I would need to wear glasses.

What interested me up to that point was that the road was beautiful. We spent the time chatting, listening to music and playing typical road games until we reached the turnoff to a dirt road. It led to a group of large chalets located in a privileged landscape.

"It's the third house on the left." Johnny pointed to Quinn, who was behind the wheel.

The two-storey cottage was fantastic. Well-kept, furnished, with a television, blue ray, three good bedrooms and a master suite, large rooms. It looked like it had been cleaned and maintained frequently.

"Everyone, make yourselves at home. I just ask you not to occupy the master suite, but the rest is free, okay?" Johnny said, unlocking the doors and turning on the heater.

"Johnny, who put you up to this?" Rachel tried to press.

"Little one, relax and enjoy it, okay? There's food in the pantry and there's a small shop that serves the area about three kilometers from here."

Mike and Johnny shared a room, Rachel and Quinn stayed in another one and I settled for the smallest (but not that small). Rachel was more conservative about religious rites, but I didn't have the slightest problem celebrating Christmas. The Lopezes always got together at abuela's house and had a big party. We exchanged gifts as secret santa and the table was always set with roasts, fruit, nuts, rice and a sweet fried bread that abuela had learned to make in Brazil. It was fantastic. A whole day of celebration. Abuela still kept up the tradition, but not all the family attended as they used to.

"I took the liberty of ordering supper at the restaurant." Johnny seemed very excited about our presence in the house. "This way we can spend Christmas with a nice meal."

Not all the neighbors were in the area. In the small village, only three families occupied their respective homes, and they all seemed to know Johnny very well. In the few days we spent there until Christmas Day, we had fun skiing, exploring the place, or staying at home on the day of the Christmas Eve blizzard, when we played board games while drying bottles of wine. In those alcoholic conversations, we discovered some new things about each other.

"I've thought more than once about giving up on New York," Mike confessed to us. "Man, I hate that apartment. I really hate it. Everything in this city is hard, but the point is that I love you guys."

"You stayed in New York just because of us?" My sister asked.

"Because of you, because of my freedom, and because my career started to progress."

"I love New York... even our apartment." Quinn laughed because she was in a bit of a tizzy and it was the first time I'd seen her in that state. "I'd much rather have that dump of an apartment than the big house I lived in in Lima when my parents were still married. Because I can breathe in that apartment."

"You can't breathe in that apartment after Mike uses the bathroom," Rachel said and we started laughing.

"I don't know if I really believe that, Fabray." I said, lying down with my head in my sister's lap. "Sometimes it feels like you're walking around with a nail in your ass."

"Hasn't it been like that since McKinley?" Mike said and burst out laughing, earning a little push from Quinn in protest.

On Christmas Day, Johnny and Mike went to that restaurant to get our meal: roast turkey, fruit cake and mashed potatoes. Mike and Johnny wore ridiculous sweaters. Wasn't that the season for it? Quinn, Christian as she was, asked us to say a prayer before we attacked the food. We respected the moment, where she read a short bible passage, and gave thanks for the family she had found and the good year we all had. We exchanged simple gifts.

We returned to New York early the next morning, taking advantage of the lull in the weather. Rachel had to work, so we hurried. Just before we got into the car, while Quinn, Rachel and Mike were putting their things in the trunk, I saw Johnny walking through the forest to a point where there was a beautiful view of a valley. Too bad it was still dark at the time. I decided to follow him and spent some time just watching him.

"Thank you for everything." He said after some time contemplating.

"I think we're the ones to thank for the magical Christmas you've given us." I stood next to my friend.

"You're the one who's wrong." He looked at me with tears in his eyes. "I used to come here every year... this was my parents' cottage, you know?"

"I'm sorry they're gone." I had the impression that the life Johnny led was related to this trauma, but he wouldn't say. He was always so closed off.

"Thank you." He said softly.

"And you don't have anyone else?"

"I've got you!" I slipped my arm around Johnny's back and up to his shoulder. "I have an older brother too... but we don't get along, you know?" I assumed that it was because of this older brother that the cottage was so well kept and that there was new food in the pantry. "Don't tell the others, okay? Just between us."

I wouldn't betray his trust. At that point, I already thought of him as a crazy older brother and I began to understand why he was so considerate of us: we were his new family.