With Love, San

Act II

Dear Britt,

So high school is not that bad, so far. I know we're only a couple months in, but things could be a lot worse. We're in a bunch of classes together and I'm popular and I'm getting good grades. Already me and you and Quinn are making our own reputation.

The Cheerios is great. We're fantastic, even if our football team is not. Coach's diet is making me feel great, and to look even better, I'm even skipping out on some of those meals, if you could even call them that. Don't worry, I'm feeling fine.

One plus to high school is that we have actual Spanish classes. The ones in middle school were barely even basic vocabulary. Seeing that I'm all but fluent, Spanish 1 is a breeze. The only reason I'm in that class is because I know that you have trouble with words, and the words being in a different language does not help at all.

I hear them all talk about you Britt, and I know that you do to. You're not stupid, B. You're a genius. And I'll never let you forget it. They just can't see that, and I'd fight them until they do, but I know you don't believe in violence. If they only knew how smart you are.

With love, San

XXX

Dear Britt,

There was a moment, and I know it sounds dramatic, but I think my life changed. We were in the locker room after Cheerios practice. It was just us. You looked over at me and you just smiled. I couldn't help but smile back.

With love, San

XXX

Dear Britt,

We officially survived our first year of high school. I don't know, I expected it to be different, I guess. I got A's in all my classes and we won the Cheerleading National Championship and I'm popular and people both fear and love me, but it felt like it wasn't real. Do you ever feel that? I know it was me, I did all those things, but I don't really remember all of it, and from what I do remember, it felt like I was just going through the motions. It felt like something was missing, but I have no idea what.

But I'm fine. I compartmentalize and repress all my issues, you could say I'm really good at it. I know it's an issue, but I will continue to ignore that for the moment. I'm more worried about you, Britt, honestly.

You can't listen to them. You say that the shit they all say doesn't bother you, and that may fool everyone else, but I know you better than that. I hate that word. "Stupid." No one's stupid, especially not you. You're a genius, B. You and I are in the top classes and despite what everyone thinks you're not the "dumb blonde" or the "ditzy cheerleader." You're amazing and creative and witty and smart and the best dancer I know and, most importantly, my best friend.

With love, San

XXX

Dear B,

So. Um. Yeah.

Neither of us is gonna die a virgin. Thank god.

Last night with you, um, I don't even know where to begin. Well I guess it started with us practicing kissing again. And then one of pushed further and the other complied. I don't remember which one of us decided to fully cross that line we've been toeing, but I'm glad the other agreed.

I know people say that their first time is awful and that they regret it, but B, it was perfect. I wouldn't change a thing.

I've never felt so loved and so cared for. Being with you felt so right, but my whole life I've been told that it's so wrong. I just find that so hard to believe. If us being together isn't right, then I don't know what could be. The more I think about it, the more I know what the answer is.