Summer Break

by Sophia Lowell

  Rachel quickly dropped the blue gown, allowing it to slide through her fingers and into a delicate heap on the carpeted floor. She began to hyperventilate.

  “I’m Laurey?” she squealed between gulping large breaths of air. It was one of the three roles that she had always known she was destined to play. The other two were Eva Perón in Evita and, obviously, Fanny Brice in Funny Girl. It was almost too much to take in. She felt faint.

  As if by magic, Anders appeared at her side, producing a goblet of cold water. “Ms. Berry,” he offered with a flirty wink. My goodness, she could get used to service like this. This was all better than it had ever been in her dreams when she lived back in Podunk Lima. The sexy flight attendant was an excellent addition.

  Lima! The pilot said something about it before. “Are we stopping in Ohio to refuel before continuing on to Los Angeles for an awards ceremony? Am I nominated or just performing?” Rachel blinked innocently at Kurt. His face sure was scrunching up strangely. Sort of like Mr. Schuester’s used to when she would make suggestions for songs they could sing at regionals. Thank goodness that was all behind her now. “Kurt! I need to know if I should have a speech prepared. I do have one that I’ve been saving for my first Tony… but maybe I can change it before we fly back to New York?” Rachel had watched every Tony Awards on television since she was born. And even a few from before she was born.

  “Look, I don’t understand what’s going on with you right now, Rachel. You are scheduled to perform at McKinley High’s end-of-year rally this week.” Kurt took out some dental floss and started to work on his perfectly straight teeth. He was apparently still just as obsessed with personal hygiene as she was. He also didn’t care that he had obviously just rocked her entire world.

  “Oh. Well, maybe my show premiered too late in the season.” That was odd. She had definitely planned to be nominated for her role as Laurey. “You seem to have all the answers. Why are you here, again?” Kurt’s lack of enthusiasm for all she had accomplished was starting to grate on her.

  “I’m your costume designer slash life coach slash only person who will put up with you.” Kurt yawned and peeked out the oval-shaped cabin window. “After you skipped town to go have your little Mary Tyler Moore moment, I decided that big-city life was my destiny, too. That youth music camp was so boring. Plus, there was that whole thing with Santana. Anyway, I just sort of… underestimated how many young gay guys there were trying to break into the musical-theater scene.” There was more than a hint of bitterness behind his voice. “This is just my interim gig until I get my big break. Which I totally will.

  “But boy, do you need me.” Kurt gestured to the mounds of expensive clothes that littered every available surface. “Thanks to my genius, you finally don’t look like you’ve made the finals in the Scripps National Spelling Bee for a record-breaking eighth year.” It was true. Rachel did have an unhealthy obsession with kneesocks. “A couple of months ago, I spent a whole twenty minutes outside the theater, trying to convince a chaperone from a middle school tour that you were not one of his students. He couldn’t believe you weren’t a thirteen-year-old visiting the city with your class from Tenafly, New Jersey.”

  Rachel suddenly became aware of her own reflection in a nearby mirror. Her current outfit consisted of a gauzy white blouse, a soft aqua lightweight scarf, and dark denim skinny jeans. Delicate gold bangles matched her metallic gladiator sandals and completed the look. She hadn’t even noticed the chic yet comfortable ensemble until now. “Hello, gorgeous,” she said to the mature brunette staring back at her. Damn, Kurt was good. Maybe she should wear pants more often.

  Rachel crossed over to the other window and peeked out, brushing the silky, star-embroidered curtains aside to get a better look. A puzzle of interlocking green and brown pieces made up the landscape below. She wasn’t afraid of heights. Flying only made her nervous because of the whole takeoff and landing parts of it. She really would prefer not to become the next Buddy Holly, who should have had a very long career in the spotlight.

  “Between dressing you and diffusing all the bad press, it’s a full-time job.”

  “Bad press?” Rachel asked, her ears perking up. Surely he was joking.

  “You have developed a reputation for being quite the diva. It’s great—the tabloids even call you Scary Berry. I came up with that one myself. Isn’t it brill? It’s sort of an homage to the Spice Girls.” Kurt sipped his goblet of water.

  Well, haters were nothing new. They were probably just jealous. People were always mean when you had something they wanted. Rachel had experienced this phenomenon her entire life. Fame was a double-edged sword.

  She struggled to process all the new information as the bustling metropolis of Lima, Ohio, came into view in the distance. She was famous. Yay! Kurt was her assistant. Okay, fine. She was going back… to Lima? Weird.

  This McKinley High performance slightly puzzled Rachel. She had spent years trying to get out of Lima. Only last year, she had abandoned Glee Club for her Star Power Summer. It had clearly paid off. At the time, though, the whole club had done absolutely nothing to support her. Why would she ever want to go back to the place that hadn’t understood her talents? There was only one logical reason—they all must have finally come to their senses! The kids at McKinley probably wanted to make it up to her by making the show a tribute to her success. Had to be it.

  Rachel opened her mouth to confirm her new theory, but Kurt interrupted her, answering the question before she even had the chance to ask it. “You sort of invited yourself, actually. Who knows why…” She racked her brain for more details about the circumstances that had led her to this point. Maybe she was a humanitarian now, and this was all part of her constant need to give back to others. It was extremely nice of her to go back to McKinley and sing for the students after all they had put her through. Jeers. Laughs. Slushies.

  Something told her that she would be greeted with different reactions this time around. As soon as she walked through the familiar doors of McKinley High School, there would be a tidal wave of applause and excitement at the return of their very own celebrity. Rachel would float down the hallway, ignoring autograph requests and scanning the crowd for her old friends from Glee Club.

  The members of New Directions were going to be ecstatic at her arrival. They probably missed her so much. It must have been a huge struggle for them to compensate for the loss of her enormous talent. It was almost like when Beyoncé deserted Destiny’s Child to pursue a solo career. She was clearly the one pulling all the weight. It was sad, but no one even remembered those other girls now. At least the people Rachel had left behind could find solace in the bragging rights they had earned having known her “way back when.” She pictured Mercedes begging her to sing a duet with her “for old times’ sake.” The Cheerios would ask her to make a cameo in their latest routine. And everyone else in the school would wish they could get a glimpse into “A Day in the Life” of Rachel Berry this year. It would certainly be a stark contrast to last year’s embarrassing Thunderclap feature.

  The plane hit a pocket of turbulence, knocking Rachel off her feet and into a pile of nearby dresses. As she clawed her way through the luxurious layers of silk and cashmere, she finally answered Kurt’s question. “I think the gold dress will be perfect for the show. It doesn’t need to be any sluttier—I’d like to let my talent speak for itself.”

  “Whatever you say, Princess,” Kurt responded, signaling for Anders to help Rachel up from her couture nest. “But may I suggest you sit down? Things are about to get a lot bumpier than you think.”

  Rachel acquiesced, slouching back into the cushy baseball glove of a seat and buckling up. She smiled blissfully.

  Little did she know, Kurt was talking about more than just turbulence. Rachel Berry was about to be in for a very rough ride.

  seven

  Chateau Lima Hotel, Monday evening

  The Chateau Lima was well known among the Ohio elite for being the only acceptable hotel in t
he area. It had a nice, cavernous lobby that played soft piano music and made excellent use of lighting, and it employed a pretty good concierge. The hotel itself boasted ten stories, though most of the rooms were often vacant, unless there was an event going on. Sometimes a business convention or local beauty pageant was held in one of the ballrooms. Even the odd bat mitzvah might bring in guests. But for the most part, the venue was largely empty and out of place.

  It was perfect, though, for when someone important came to town. He or she could usually be found occupying one of the hotel’s two luxury penthouse suites. However, it was a rare occasion that a visitor to Lima fit this bill. As a result, the suites were still practically brand-new. On top of that, they boasted a view of the downtown—which was way better than the view of the power plant on the opposite side. Obviously, it was the only acceptable place for a star of Rachel’s caliber to stay during her visit.

  But when they pulled up in their limousine, Rachel’s face dropped. “Oh, the Chateau.”

  Kurt looked at her blankly. “It’s the best there is. You know that.”

  “Oh, it’s not that. It’s just… I was kind of excited to go home and see my dads,” she said, staring out through the tinted glass of the hired vehicle. The inside smelled like fake pine and years of cigarette smoke.

  The doorman standing at the entrance looked more like he belonged on Park Avenue than in northwestern Ohio. He wore white gloves and a top hat, but a drip of sweat on his face ruined the illusion. The poor man was boiling in his uniform in the early summer heat.

  “Why aren’t we staying at our houses?” Rachel thought it would be sort of quaint to stay in her old bedroom, to see all her little knickknacks and motivational posters that adorned the walls and had once acted as her own little cheerleaders. It would have been such a great moment. Too bad a documentary crew wasn’t here to capture her emotional response at realizing how far she’d come. Maybe it wasn’t too late to hire one.

  “Oh God. Why do I always have to be the bearer of bad news? Just please don’t go all Naomi Campbell and throw something at me like the last time….” Kurt said, loosening his collar. “Remember? I told you a few months ago that they sold the house.”

  “They what?” That hadn’t been part of the plan. “Where… where are they now?” All of a sudden, Rachel felt really young. “Did they move to New York to be with me?”

  Kurt opened the door and climbed out, forcing her to follow him if she wanted more information. The doorman looked excited at the prospect of finally opening the door and letting a cool whoosh of air-conditioning escape. He smiled at them as he pulled the heavy gilded handle. “Good afternoon! Welcome to Chateau Li—” he tried to say, but the bickering duo paid him no mind as they entered the lobby.

  “They wanted to, but you wouldn’t let them. Or rather, you made it very clear that they were cramping your style.”

  Rachel whimpered like a puppy with a thorn stuck in its paw. “I would never do that. My dads are my biggest fans.”

  Rachel listened in disbelief as Kurt explained how Leroy and Hiram Berry would go to the theater each night. They would sit right up front, singing along to all the songs and wearing T-shirts that said rachel’s daddy. They had been incredibly proud of her, just like always. Until Rachel told them to get lost.

  Or rather, she’d insisted they “tone it down.” Kurt said that Rachel became so caught up in being a Broadway professional, their presence completely humiliated her. She asked them whether they would stop coming to all the shows. They were so hurt by her request that they decided to come back to Lima. But it was too empty without her.

  It wasn’t long before they sold the house and used the money to take a trip around the world together. Hiram had always wanted to do it, and because Rachel no longer needed them, why not? They still loved her, of course. It was evident that she was always on their minds, as they made sure to send postcards and gifts from every destination they visited. They sent trinkets from all the exotic places they’d named while watching the planes take off when she was a little girl.

  Rachel sat down on one of the lobby’s plush camel-colored sofas, despair written all over her perfectly made-up face. “Where are their letters or postcards?” she asked, trying to comprehend the fact that she was alone. This was the first part of her new life that didn’t seem so great.

  Kurt grabbed her hand and pulled her up. He was growing more and more impatient with each passing minute. He was looking forward to checking into their suites and getting some quality rest before the next day. It was bound to be a doozy.

  “I always just throw them out now. After they mailed you that coconut from Hawaii, you told me to never waste your time with their ridiculous gifts again.” Rachel had actually catapulted the coconut at his head while in a rage. It was a special mood of hers that he fondly referred to as “Rage-el.” She had the worst mood swings. “Of course, if they send something European, I usually just keep it for myself.” It was one of the better perks of his job. “Come on. You clearly need some rest. And so do I. You are especially taxing today. This must be how Lindsay Lohan’s rehab sponsor feels.”

  Rachel decided to just let Kurt take the reins. He got them both checked into the two penthouse suites and was carting her luggage up to her room when it occurred to her to think about someone other than herself. “Don’t you want to go stay with your family, Kurt? Just because I’m alone… doesn’t mean you should have to be.”

  “Did you hit your head or something? Please go back to being your normal, bossy self. You’re weirding me out.” Kurt began the arduous task of unloading Rachel’s twelve massive Louis Vuitton trunks. He grunted. “I’d yell at you for packing too much, but I packed it.” He amused himself a little too much.

  “Don’t you want to see your dad… and Carole and… Finn?” Rachel sucked in her breath as if the name were sacred. It sort of was. What had become of Finn? Her heart ached a little at the very thought of him.

  “Well, to put it lightly—they weren’t thrilled when I dropped out of school to move to New York and follow in your footsteps. Especially after all that tuition money they spent on me at Dalton Academy.” Kurt’s dad and Finn’s mom had given up their honeymoon to pay for Kurt’s schooling. It was understandable for them to be upset. “Plus, everything is so churchy with Quinn around all the time.” He dragged a trunk across the carpet.

  Rachel’s heart sank. “What do you mean?” Had Finn fallen back under Quinn’s spell in her absence? Please don’t let it be true, Rachel wished.

  “Oh, whoops. I forgot you still carry a birthday candle–sized torch for Finn.”

  Rachel couldn’t really deny that. Finn had been her real first love. Her only love, really. Theirs had been a rocky road, but the thought of him with another girl now made her sick with jealousy. “But as you know, my dear stepbrother really can’t resist the ‘Quinnfluence.’ I still can’t believe how religious he’s gotten since getting back together with her. It’s way more intense than that time he thought he saw Jesus’s face in a grilled cheese sandwich.”

  This was not good. First her dads had abandoned her for some magical mystery tour around the world. Now Finn had gone back to Rachel’s former rival—the one girl who was the absolute opposite of Rachel in every way. With her sugary-sweet demeanor, blond curls, heart-shaped lips, and little diamond cross necklace, how could anyone compare? Rachel couldn’t believe that after all she had accomplished, she was starting to get jealous of Quinn again.

  “Ew, you look awful,” Kurt said, inspecting her. He had finally finished unloading the bags into her massive suite and was now standing in the doorway. He looked quite beat himself. His gold jacket was thoroughly wrinkled, and his hair had fallen flat outside in the hot weather. “Maybe it’s just the face you’re making. Remember what that face feels like… and never make it again. Okay? You’ll thank me later.” Kurt could be terribly harsh, but at least he was honest. “Remember what I taught you about smizing…. It’s just smiling with the ey
es. Use it. Own it.”

  “Thanks, Tyra Banks.” Rachel shoved Kurt out into the hallway. She really needed to get some rest.

  “Get tons of sleep. We have an early meeting tomorrow at McKinley!” Kurt yelled as Rachel slammed the door in his face. Rachel thought she heard him say “We don’t want you puffy!” but the door muffled his voice.

  She turned around and took in the massive, empty suite before her. It was stunning. Well, stunning for a hotel in Lima. Rachel figured that she probably stayed in five-star hotels all the time now. But this one was decorated in rich jewel-toned fabrics and exotic-looking plants. A golden damask chaise lounge accompanied a teal velvet sofa and armchair that were covered in golden throw pillows. Lush purple curtains framed the large windows. Outside, the sun was starting to set, creating a vivid sky of colors. It looked like one of those desktop backgrounds you could download for your computer.

  A giant, glittery abstract painting of what appeared to be a pair of ruby slippers hung above the mantelpiece. Everything about the room was beautiful, but the painting made her sad. It reminded her of all the times she’d watched The Wizard of Oz with her dads. There’s no place like home, Rachel thought. She still wasn’t quite over the fact that her house was no longer hers. It made her feel like an orphan. And not in the good way she felt when she sang Cosette’s part in Les Misérables.

  Everything would be much better in the morning. It was still early, but Rachel began to sift through one of the trunks, looking for anything that resembled sleepwear. She finally settled on a yellow lacy camisole dress—though it could have easily been a really slutty regular dress—and slipped into it. She shivered. They really pumped the air-conditioning at full blast in these places.