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Two weeks later
Mercedes flittered around the boutique rushing to tidy up the store before Sam came to pick her up. After her date with Sam, the two were inseparable. They spent mornings having breakfast and evenings walking along the pier. In that time they learned more about each other. He learned Mercedes dreamed of visiting Corsica one day and hated peas. She learned Sam has eyes like his grandfather's and loved to surf. Sam told her of his time as a boy scout and Mercedes regaled him of her babysitting misadventures. She teased him mercilessly when he told her about the time he accidentally mooned his class during an assembly and he winced when she told him about the time she broke her wrist in two places.
In a short time their relationship grew. It is rare to find someone you feel a spiritual connection to, even rarer when you've only known the person a little over a month. She felt like she knew him, really knew him, and for a person who clung to predictability it was refreshing to not know what was going to happen next.
But there was a question both seemed to overlook. One that threatened to rip their relationship apart at the seams once discovered.
Blissfully unaware of the doom looming over them she swung the door open before he could knock, the bell ringing obnoxiously as she waved him in. "Hey Sam." She stood on her toes to hug him.
"Hey pickles." He smirked as he watched her frown slightly. He loved how flustered she got when he called her 'pickles'. They had been trading embarrassing stories and she told him of the time she greedily ate all the pickles in the jar and proceeded to throw up—all over her 5th grade crush. She never looked at pickles or Finn Hudson the same way again.
"When are you going to stop calling me that?" She rolled her eyes in faux annoyance. Secretly she loved being able to tell him things. Loved that he listened, that he cared.
"When you agree to let me take you surfing."
He had been asking her for a week. He loved being out in the ocean. Said it helped him feel connected to nature. She hated nature, especially oceans.
Locking the shop she smiled as they laced their hands together. It was strange how affectionate they were.
Shifting gears he looked up as they passed a small tuxedo rental shop and his mind couldn't help but look to the future, him in a tux her in a white dress. Slow down. He tells himself all the time that this is new, they're young and he's crazy for having these thoughts. Still with every moment he spends with her, he can't help but fall closer to love with Mercedes Jones.
She tugged on his hand motioning him forward. "I have a surprise for you."
He wiggled his eyebrows which made her giggle. "Yeah?"
"My aunt's away overnight. I thought I could make you dinner." He let her lead him into the house.
He smiled watching her clean vegetables and season chicken. He could see her cooking breakfast for their children, laughing at his botched attempts. SLOW DOWN. He always had a hard time staying grounded in reality.
"Can I help with anything?"
Cleaning the cutting board she handed it over to him and pointed to the knife drawer. "Can you cut the vegetables for me?"
She laughed at the adorable way he stuck his tongue out in concentration and wondered how they got so comfortable with each other so fast. Guiding his hand she helped him chop the ingredients finer before throwing everything in a pan.
They looked domestic, like they had been partners for years. They ate and Sam cleaned the dishes as he fought valiantly to stay in the moment. She was just so beautiful, intriguing and sweet. She was perfect. He hummed along to the song on the radio and noticed her swaying to the music. Tossing the dish towel on the sink he grabbed her hand. She took it and smiled as he spun her then held her close.
Something in the way she moves
Attracts me like no other lover
Something in the way she woos me
I don't want to leave her now
You know I believe and how
She had her hand on over his heart, her cheek pressed to his chest. She loved having him close. It was as if he was holding her together.
Somewhere in her smile she knows
That I don't need no other lover
Something in her style that shows me
I don't want to leave her now
You know I believe and how
He couldn't stop thinking about them. He didn't know how but he knew she would be in his future. She made caring about her easy.
You're asking me, will my love grow?
I don't know, I don't know.
You stick around now it may show
I don't know, I don't know
She inhaled his scent loving everything about this moment: his hand on her waist, his heartbeat, his slightly stiff movements. With him she allowed herself to think about love, something she thought was out of her grasp.
Something in the way she knows
And all I have to do is think of her
Something in the things she shows me
I don't want to leave her now
You know I believe and how*
She fit in his arms, she belonged there. Once the song ended she looked up at him and if she would have asked for the stars in that moment, he would have moved heaven and earth to grab them.
His hand moved from her waist, trailing towards her neck. He couldn't stop staring at those lips. Bending down he watched her meet him in the middle.
She was always worried that she was a bad kisser. That her guard couldn't be let down long enough to show him what he meant to her, to show how much she wanted him. She was sure he was patient with her, probably pitied her at first. She knew she had to be horrible at it, but every time she pulled away he looked dazed which gave her confidence. She began to try new things: nibbling, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip, running her hands up his back and through his hair, whatever felt right. She hoped she wasn't a disappointment because the boy was honestly a great kisser. His kisses didn't just give her a spark they produced electric currents that ran through her body, giving her aftershocks everywhere his hands touched. She could feel him through his kisses and hoped he could feel her. They broke apart with hazed and hooded eyes both breathless.
They sat in silence, chests heaving as the song faded out. 'Wow' he mouthed still trying to catch his breath.
"Sam?"
He looked over at her slightly puffy lips and smirked.
She smiled at his expression, sure it matched her own. "Can you teach me how to surf?"
"So then what happened?" She looked at him, eyes full of amusement.
"I spent an hour putting her bags back and apologized over and over again."
She let out a full-bodied laugh, head falling back slowly as her legs dangled from either side of the surf board. It was the perfect distraction from being out in the ocean for the first time in 13 years. From thinking about the last time she lazed about in the ocean. Being around him made her braver, and this newfound courage made her want to face things that she had been afraid to face far too long. She used to have panic attacks when confronted with large bodies of water, now she was sitting on a tiny board in the ocean-she'd call that progress.
And Sam's tale of unknowingly moving a stranger's paraphernalia into his friend's new apartment because he was helping said friend move in and assumed the items were his provided the perfect distraction for Mercedes.
Still the knots in her stomach never really went away, despite the laughter.
"Alright it'll be just like we practiced on land. We'll turn around and when a wave comes, get a feel for it and just pop up." He saw a small wave and looked over to her. He couldn't tell if she was nervous or excited but he hoped for excited. "You ready?"
She wasn't ready. Mercedes was scared. She nodded all the while knowing this was too big a step to take, that she bit off more than she could chew and she wanted nothing more than to go back to her books and the plastic beach chair where it was safe. She fought to regulate her breathing when the nose of the board began to sink.
She was going to have a panic attack. She could feel the telltale signs: sweating, difficulty breathing, chest tightening, and overall feeling of doom. And when the board dipped she clutched at it flinging water off to no avail. If she was panicked before she was feverish now as the water began to surround her. She forgot how to swim, how to move out on the now choppy waters. They weren't even far out and she knew this was it. This was the end. Her mind repeatedly flashed back to the last time she saw her mother; her five year old self watching helplessly as her mother was pulled under.
Sam was oblivious to her situation after riding the perfect wave. The worry set in as soon as he didn't see Mercedes beside him. He found her shaking and clinging to her board which was beginning to go under. Paddling over to her, he slid her back to balance her board. Although she was no longer sinking she remained stiff on the board. In that moment, her painful memories foremost in her mind, she was reminded why she kept everyone at arm's length, why she craved structure and rules.
"Mercedes, are you okay?"
She didn't respond, didn't blink. He held his hand out to her and she drew back. Something had happened, he wasn't sure what but she looked well and truly scared.
"Mercedes?"
She looked at him then, finally acknowledging his presence. "I wasn't strong enough."
"Don't worry. We'll just try it some other time."
After stabilizing herself she shrank away from him again. "No!" I need to go home!"
He put his hands up and leaned back. He'd never saw this side of her and it made him realize despite everything he knew, there was still so much he didn't know about Mercedes Jones. He felt helpless, he could see her suffering and didn't know how to help. He couldn't reach her. Sighing he tore his gaze off of her and focused on the road, his jaw clenching every few minutes.
Sitting silently in the car she wiped the tears as they fell. She couldn't believe how stupid she was.
Great, she was nauseous again. The same nausea she had after her mother's death was back—in full force. She remembered her psychiatrist tell her father the vomiting was 'a physical side effect to keeping everything emotionally bottled up, a manifestation of her grief.' At the time she had no idea what that meant but for some reason the words stuck with her. Sometimes she would use them as a barometer for growth. Often she used them to find other methods of hiding her feelings, which is why she clung to rules and routines.
The ride to her aunt's house was torture. When he parked and turned to her, he watched her scramble out of the seat belt and reach for the handle.
Their day started out so perfect, he couldn't let it end like this. Couldn't watch the girl leave without her knowing she wasn't alone and he'd be there for whatever she was going through.
Putting a hand on her shoulder he spoke softly. "I don't know what happened back there but I want you to know you can talk to me. I'm here for you."
She kept her back to him murmured a thanks and jumped out the car. He watched her walk, well run, away from him and sat in his car with his head on the steering wheel as he tried to figure out what the hell happened.
Beatles - Something