May 16, 1980
They both filed into the crowded theater, giggling excitedly and tossing kernels of popcorn at each other. It was the opening night of "Fame," and it was way more crowded than Mercedes originally expected it to be. She wore a simple pair of jeans with a flowing floral top and a yellow floral headband in her long, curly hair. Despite her best friend Santana's best efforts to get her in a pair of yellow platform heels, Mercedes was able to get away with a pair of black Mary Jane shoes with a small heel. She didn't need to look like a giant sunflower at 8:00 at night. People twittered about within the theater, excitedly. Occasionally, someone would throw some popcorn at the screen when another reminder popped up on the screen, urging us to get food from the concession stand.
"Eventually we'll get what WE PAID FOR!" Someone shouted.
"YEAH SHOW US THE MOVIE!" Mercedes and Santana shouted in unison, giggling afterward.
"Shut up!" Someone threw a handful of popcorn at the two girls' heads and they immediately turned in their seats to see who the culprits were. To no one's surprise, it was Mahone and his duo of Merry Idiots, laughing like the morons that they were. The 6'2 ringleader, Mahone, squinted his dark eyes at the girls in amusement, pulling his blonde pixie of a girlfriend, Quinn, closer to him. Quinn shifted uncomfortably, but remained silent.
"Can we help you?" Santana barked at the 3 boys cackling a few rows behind them. They all exchanged looks and started laughing harder. Mercedes normally kept her mouth shut when it came to Mahone and his boys. They all put on this front like they were a gang of tough Italian teenagers, when everyone knew that only 1 of them, Mahone, was truly Italian. They were the product of parents who let nannies raise them. They ran a muck, causing trouble at every corner, and torturing every student that didn't have pale skin like themselves. Most people knew how to handle them, and they were more annoying than intimidating.
"Seriously, we're just here to have a good time, what's your problem?" Mercedes asked, furrowing her dark eyebrows together
"The Puerto Rican and the fat African wanna start something." A sandy brown haired boy with a deep scar running down his face - His name was Clarence, but he always wanted people to call him "Capone." No one ever did- stage whispered, nudging Mahone.
"I see," Mahone tossed more popcorn at the two of them, "I know how you people can't get jobs, so make it work. Maybe you can trade it in for some foodstamps, Tubby."
Mercedes felt her face heat up, and she turned away from them. It was true, her mother couldn't find work. Nursing was all she knew. Times were hard, and between the drugs and violence, people were dropping like flies. Eventually, the stress took a toll on her poor mother, and she was let go. Money has been tight, and she and her brother Michael both worked to help out.
"Fuck off, Mahone. You and your little girlfriend." Santana spat, adding an extra tone of disgust at the word. Mercedes winced. She didn't even want to see the look on Quinn's face at the moment. She knew Quinn probably looked as if she'd been slapped. There was a sound of a squeaking chair, but then she realized that it was Quinn shrieking.
"Honey…sweetie let it go. I deserved that. It's okay," She urgently reassured. I didn't even want to see what had just gone on, but I assumed that Santana hit a nerve.
"Santana, turn around, and stop causing trouble."
"What!? Mercy, they started first!"
Mercedes rolled her dark brown eyes, "Well, I'm finishing it."
Defeated, Santana did as she was told, crossing one of her well toned legs over the other under her short red skirt.
"He's such a punk." She murmured.
Mercedes stifled a chuckle at her feisty companion and playfully nudged her, "I love you, girl. Never a dull moment."
Santana softened up a bit and smiled back just as another handful of popcorn came flying in their direction.
"Hey thanks! You're actually saving me money right now, ya morons!" Santana spun around, cupping the popcorn that landed in her lap. She grinned and popped one in her mouth, "Keep it coming!"
"Shut up!"
After a moment, she chuckled again and sat back in her seat, shaking her head. Her black ponytail swung freely behind her and she laughed a little harder. Concerned for her friend, Mercedes stared at her curiously. Santana covered her mouth to hold back another round of laughter, and took a deep breath.
"Don't look now," she leaned over and whispered in Mercedes' ear, "but the new guy…the one with the massive chomper…he's staring at you."
Confused as to who she was talking about, Mercedes quirked an eyebrow.
"Who?"
Santana nodded her head back, causing Mercedes to turn in her seat.
Oh, hello, she thought as she caught a blonde boy with shaggy blonde hair quickly averting his green eyes from her. He was sitting next to Clarence at the end of the row, and she hadn't even noticed him. Ever. He turned his attention to his new buddies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blue and white varsity jacket. When the lights in the theater started to dim, Mercedes turned back to face the screen.
"Who is that?"
Santana shrugged, "All I know is that he's new to the area. Kinda weird that he's hanging out with them though," she popped another popcorn kernel in her mouth, "he looks kinda 'Apple pie-ish' to me."
"Apple pie-ish?"
"You know like…" she swallowed, "those boys you see on TV that are in those commercials…an All-American boy! School quarterback, good grades, perfect family and lots of money…you know. That type. Like you expect him to be on Happy Days or something."
Mercedes pursed her lips in contemplation just as the MGM lion appeared on the screen, roaring. People in the theater clapped, excitedly. She, eventually, shook her head clear of the thoughts and focused on the movie. Although, she realized, she could feel a pair of eyes burning a hole in the back of her head.
Sam was a little worried. It was clear that his new friends didn't like the girl, but he didn't understand why. Okay, maybe he did, a little. She was Black. That was reason enough in their minds. They claimed they weren't racist, but found enjoyment in picking on non-whites. Sam didn't question it, but he didn't accept it either. He stayed silent as they tore apart the dark haired girl sitting a few rows ahead of them. She and her Spanish friend giggled amongst each other, and shouted something at the screen. It was then that Mahone decided to throw food at them. He grimaced. Mahone had definitely changed after he left the suburbs. The city made him mean. It was hard to believe that they had, at one point, been best friends. Nowadays, Sam only hung out with Mahone because he was expected to. That's it.
He didn't expect what happened next. He didn't expect to be left speechless and blown away by the curly haired girl in front of him. As she spun to glare at them -mostly, Mahone- his jaw dropped a little. He didn't realize that he was staring. He didn't realize that he was left dumbfounded by the girl angrily pouting. God, did she look adorable when she pouted. She said something back to Mahone, but Sam's ears weren't working right. It was as if everything slowed down and his vision became tunneled, only focusing on the girl with the silky deep brown skin. The little voice in the back of his mind told him to wake up from his trance. He wasn't SUPPOSED to be attracted to her, and it wouldn't work. But Sam's body wouldn't respond. Instead, he bit his bottom lip and frowned slightly as the girl turned back around, and he'd caught a glimpse of her face falling. Her Spanish friend, they called her Satan, took one look at her companion and lashed out at Mahone, who then made to lunge at her, but was held down by Quinn. Capone nudged Sam and said something, but he simply turned to him, nodded, and turned his attention back to the mysterious girl. He wanted to know her name. He knew better than to ask the boys, because he knew they wouldn't approve. But damn it, if he weren't curious to know. After the boys threw their third helping of popcorn, and Satan chastised them, she briefly stared at Sam while he stared at her friend. When he felt her gaze, Sam gave her back a look that, he hoped, read, "What do you want?" Instead she laughed and sat in her seat, laughing some more.
"What was that about?" The only other blonde in the group, Marcus, questioned aloud from Mahone's right side. Sam realized that he was talking about their giggling and whispering. At that very moment, the girl turned and locked eyes with him. Her dark eyes pierced his own for a split second, and his heart gave a terrifying jolt. He had to look away, and he did, forcing his eyes on Capone.
"I don't know, man. I don't get girls." Sam shrugged, silently trying to slow down his racing heart. The lights dimmed, mercifully in Sam's case, and he let out a deep sigh.
Who was that? His eyes found the back of her head, shadowed against the bright movie screen. Her curls cascaded down her shoulders and back, and he wondered how soft they were. Shaking his head, he inwardly groaned.
What was he doing? He chuckled to himself. Girls like that didn't belong with guys like him. And they both knew it.
