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Chapter 4
Sam's Pov
We'd cleaned a lot of pools today, and it was safe to say by the time the sun went down I looked like the walking dead. I had only slept an hour and I had a full day. I even had a shift at the Pizzeria that night. Walking into the apartment, all eyes were on me. Stacy ran up to me wrapping her arms around my legs hugging me. I didn't have the energy to pick her up and swing her around like I normally did. I plopped down onto the air mattress in the corner. All I really wanted to do was go to sleep. I just wanted a two hour nap before I had to go into work, but I knew that wasn't happening with the perplexed looks on my parents' faces. Looking at them reminded me about the tip. I pulled it out of my back pocket, handing it to my dad before laying back down.
"Sam, where did you get this money?" my mom asked.
"It was a tip." I yawned closing my eyes.
"Samuel, you brought home a ninety dollar tip a few days ago, you don't even come home last night and all of a sudden you show up with fifty dollars?" my dad pointed out.
"Yeah," I mumbled, getting comfortable.
"I have to wonder what exactly you're doing for these tips."
My eyes shot open and I sat up. "What do you mean?"
"We know what you've done to keep us afloat before, Sam. We don't want you sell –" My mother looked almost pained at having to mention it.
"I'm not doing that anymore. I promise. I have two honest jobs," I cut her off.
"Honey, I just want you to be a kid. I've never wanted you to grow up this fast. You've done things I've never wanted for you." Mom's green eyes were brimming with tears.
I wrapped her in a hug. "Mom, it's okay. We're fine now. We're getting back on our feet – almost secure. I even sing on the street sometimes for a little bit of extra cash for us. My hustle is legit this time, Dad."
I knew he would laugh at that last sentence. "That better be all you're doing on the street. I mean it, Sam."
I nodded, closing my eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. All I could think about was how one simple act had lost me my family's trust. What I'd done was for them. It wasn't the ideal line of work, but it got us this apartment. Sometimes, I wish I'd never met April Rhodes.
I'd known that we were quickly falling on hard times, so I took to street singing. Today was no different than any other. I was feeling like doing a little John Mayer today, so most of my songs were covers of his stuff. I was in the middle of Gravity when a short blonde walked by. She stared at me and I smiled to be polite. It was only when she turned back around did I pay her much attention. This woman came up to me, putting a wad of cash in my guitar case.
"I could use you," she said.
"As?"
"I own a club and your voice would be perfect. It would add a different edge to the talent we already have."
"You want me to sing at your club?" I couldn't believe it.
"Can you dance too?"
"I can learn," I said eagerly.
She asked me if I could come down to the club, and I packed up my things and followed her. When I got there, I saw that it wasn't the club I was expecting. Essentially what April wanted from me was to be singing, dancing, and stripping eye candy. It was a lot to take in and I asked her if I could get back to her on my decision.
April smiled. "From what I can see hinted at under that shirt, there will always be a place for you here, Sam."
That night when I got home, I found out my dad had been laid off and we were only a month away from being kicked out of our house. We didn't even have fall back money. We had nothing to ensure living quarters in someplace else. That was when I called April. Of course I was underage, but April hadn't asked, and I didn't feel the need to disclose it. We needed money fast, so I sold my dignity, and my body to keep us off the street. I worked my ass off learning how to body roll and it became my signature move. It was my money maker.
I kept this job a secret, but my dad could read me like a book. He knew I was lying about where I worked. One night, he sat me down accusing me of getting into the drug business. I couldn't take him being that disappointed in me, so I told him what I was doing. He was disappointed, but less so.
He made me promise to quit the next day, and thank God Ms. Holiday took pity on me at the Pizzeria. I don't know where we'd be if she hadn't seen the sheer desperation and my need for work. I didn't like pity one bit, but that day I sucked it up.
My alarm went off and I ran a tired hand down my face. Sighing, I got up to get dressed for work. When I was on my way out, Mom stopped me. "Sam, I forgot to tell you that I got a job interview next week." She smiled, and so did I. This was the first time she'd actually gotten a call back.
"I know you'll get it. You're perfect at everything you do!"
I watched her eyes light up and she smiled bright. "Oh, Sam." She waved me off.
Catching her in moments that make her beam with pride were what I lived for sometimes. Just seeing my parents smile had become so essential. I perfected my impressions and worked on jokes and one-liners to keep everyone smiling through hard times. It's what they needed.
At work that night, it was seriously lacking in fun. I wasn't working with any of my friends. Santana and Brittany were off. It was just a few people that I barely talked to. My only job for the night was prepping the food for the next day. It only took about three hours, and little to no energy at all. By the time we'd closed, Ms. Holliday was walking up to me.
"Hola, Sam. Como estas?" she asked. She knew that I was taking Spanish, and she used to be a sub for Spanish.
"I'm fine, Ms. Holly. How 'bout yourself?"
"I'm great. I've got some things for you in the warmer. You're good to go, just grab them on your way out." She'd always give me the food that was left from the night. When I'd tried to reason with her before, she told me protocol was to throw it out. This way they weren't wasting perfectly good food.
We didn't sell just pizza here. We had wings, breadsticks, garlic bread, and so many different pastas. My family never went lacking for anything to eat. We always had these options as well as the little bit of groceries we could bring in. What this woman was giving me was a week's worth of food that in no way could we all eat it before it goes bad.
Upon leaving and thanking her over and over again, my hands were full with two bags in each. My cell started ringing and I rushed to the car, so I could grab it. After putting the bags in the passenger's side, I grabbed it, shocked by the name.
"Hello?"
"Hi!" Mercedes said almost excitedly.
"Well, hello to you too, darlin'. What's up?" I knew there was a smile on my face. I'd never expected her to call me, truth be told. I expected to have to be the one to make the first move and call her.
She was silent for a second before she said, "Well, I didn't really get that far in the calling you stage."
I laughed to myself. "You must've had some reason for calling?" I tried to help her out.
"I was writing, but I couldn't really think because the sound of your snoring floated into my head. It took me five minutes to stop laughing."
"And why is the sound of my snores funny?" I was grinning so much my cheeks hurt.
Her answer was to imitate what it sounded like, and that brought on another fit of giggles from her. I laughed at her laughing at me. She was cute and not afraid to pick on me. "What are you doing right now?" she asked after getting herself under control.
"Driving home."
"Oh." Her voice sounded almost sad.
"Why? What did you want me to be doing, Mercy?"
"You really are sticking with that name aren't you?"
"You bet your ass I am." When she giggled again, I really wished I could see her face. I wondered what her hair was like today, and what she was wearing. Those things compelled me to ask, "Have you had dinner yet?"
"I had something that resembled dinner, I guess."
I frowned at her answer. "Better question, are you hungry?"
"Yes, but if you have pizza, I have to pass. I've had entirely too much of that lately."
"How 'bout pasta?"
"Okay. You coming over?"
"Only to pick you up. We're getting you out of that pool house."
She was quiet again. "Sammy, I don't know about this."
"Do you not want to be seen with me, Mercedes?" Her hesitation kind of hurt, but then again she hadn't known me long. She had no reason to trust me.
"More like I don't want to be seen period. Being seen with you would be wonderful – the hottie that you are and all," she said almost passively.
"So you think I'm hot?"
"Boy, please! Just hurry up before I chicken out. It's late not that many people can really be creeping."
"Great. I'll see you in a bit, Mercy!"
I went home to drop off the food for my family and change. The kids were asleep, but my parents were awake, waiting up as usual. After I'd rushed around changing my shirt and pants, I came out of the bathroom, grabbed my spare blanket and two containers of pasta. I was half way to the door when my father said, "Ah…son?"
"I promise to be back within a reasonable hour." I tried hard to convey how desperately I needed this. It was probably hard to think of a reasonable hour to be home when in fact it was almost midnight.
"Who is she?" my mom asked with a knowing smile.
"Her name is Mercedes, but it's not like that. We're just friends!" I reassured her.
"Yeah, as if the grin on your face confirms that." My dad rolled his eyes. "If this girl is willing to date you on your crazy schedule, I'd say you've got a keeper."
I could feel myself blushing. My parents never made things easy for me. They always gave me a hard time. "It's not a date. She's hungry and so am I."
"With a blanket and food. Yeah, you take all your friends on midnight picnics," Dad quipped sarcastically.
Shaking my head, I said, "Bye y'all. I'll be back in a couple of hours."
Mercedes's POV
Sleepy as I was, I'd managed to have a great day. My mother even approved of my outfit and hair style. I was wearing an off the shoulder purple shirt with the matching purple headband and black skinny jeans. Feeling the need to completely be on her good side, I'd sported pumps as well. Walking out to the car, she had absolutely nothing negative to say. I even had a smile on my face from the interaction Sam and I had had this morning.
"Someone's excited to meet their new choreographer?" My mom smiled as if my smile was infectious.
"I'm just having a good day is all." I shrugged.
That was the last bit of talking my mom and I did. When we got to the dance studio was the next time that she spoke, and that was to introduce me to one of the sexiest men I'd seen in a while. Standing in front of me was this tall, muscular Asian guy who looked like he should be on the cover of a magazine. He had the most welcoming smile.
"Mercedes, this is Mike Chang," my mom introduced.
"Hi," I said almost timidly.
He held out his hand for me to shake it and I continued to study him. He looked only a few years older than me – if that. "It's nice to finally meet you. Can I say that you're voice is amazing?"
"Thanks."
"Now, I don't want to sound like a creeper, but I've studied your performances. You're lacking something and I think I can help."
"I am?"
Mike looked at my mom before saying, "I know you aren't prepared for dancing today, but can I just get a feel for how you move?" Even I wasn't dense enough to notice that he'd rather interact with me alone.
Taking the hint, Mom said, "Just give me a call and I'll come back by to pick you up."
I nodded and when she left I felt a little more relaxed.
"Mercedes, what you're lacking is confidence. You've got to own every single move you make." Mike walked closer to me. He placed a hand on my waist, and I flinched. "It's just a Waltz. I want you to dance with me, so that I can get a feel for your rhythm."
As we danced, I knew my Waltz was stiff. Then again, I can't even remember who taught me, but it was something that I didn't feel at all. After we'd danced around the room, he suggested we do the Tango. Before we started, he asked me to follow his lead. He could practically see the apprehension on my face. "I need you to trust me."
I pursed my lips, trying to think of a nice way to put my next comment, but there wasn't one. "I don't trust anyone that is getting paid by my mother."
Mike smirked at me, and it kind of reminded me of Sam in a way. "Today, your mother isn't paying me a thing." He stuck his tongue out at me, and I couldn't help but laugh. Now let go and just dance."
I stopped over thinking and stopped automatically disliking Mike, and just danced with him. He encouraged me, praised when I did the right thing, and offered alternatives when I had trouble following his steps. He wasn't like most of the people that my mom hired. He seemed to actually care. We even seemed to glide around the floor effortlessly. After that, he even broke out into the robot, teaching me how to do it as well. Mike was silly and just all around fun.
We were sitting down on the floor, taking a breather when he bumped shoulders with me. "Why didn't I see that girl in those performances?"
"If I could sing what I want, you might. If I could truly have creative freedom there would be more Mercedes, less 'trying to keep up with Rachel Berry'," I answered truthfully.
"Well, if you keep me on as your choreographer, you have creative freedom. You don't have to be afraid to throw out a hell no to anything you don't feel comfortable with."
"Is this your sales pitch?"
Mike rolled his eyes. "No. I've pretty much got this job in the bag. Your mom just wanted you to meet me before it was official. But honestly, your mom is not who I care about. You and I need to have a connection for this to work. Mercedes, we're going to be spending tons of time together. There may be days when I'm the first and last person you see."
My eyebrows rose. No one had ever flat out told me my voice mattered more than my mom's did. I smiled. "So what I'm getting is that I'll get sick of seeing your face?"
Mike nodded, and we both saw my mother coming in the front door. "But my policy is, you can hate me, curse me out, and call me whatever names you can think of, but at the end of the day we hug it out." He helped me up, and pulled me in for a very sweaty hug.
"This is by far the nastiest thing I've done in my life!"
"What? Hug a sweaty man? Now, Mercedes, I'm pretty sure you've touched your share of sweaty men."
Mike was doubled over at the grossed out expression on my face. Shaking my head, I said, "Mike Chang you are a mess!"
"As of today, I become your mess."
I smiled over my shoulder at him before I walked out the door. I didn't think that would necessarily be a bad thing. It would seem that sometimes people really weren't always in things for the money. Some people actually loved what they did. Mike Chang seemed like one of those people. He acted like a big brother, caring if I didn't get something right and immediately wanting to fix it. We joked around with each other, not like he was someone hired for me, but like he was just a cool guy.
When I got home, I worked on writing a song – that wouldn't ever be heard. Normally, inspiration came to me easily, but not today. I couldn't get Sam out of my head, but I would chicken out every time I thought to call him. I didn't call guys – or anyone actually. It was silly, as if he'd want to hear from me anyway, and besides, what would I say? I went to mandatory dinner with the family, pushing it all to the back of my mind. When that awkward silence filled fiasco was over I went back to writing, managing to get a few lines done by night fall. But I couldn't shake needing to talk to Sam. It was like in the back of mind there was an insistent whisper, "Call Sam. Text Sam."
The call had gone well. No matter if I did things like not really tell him the real reason I called, Sam rolled with it. He even said he was getting me out of this pool house for a while. That worried me. I didn't really want to drag him down in the rumor mill and have people investigating his life or watching his every move. It was Sam though, and I was having trouble saying no to his invites.
I couldn't explain the sheer giddiness I felt when I heard the knock on my door. Opening it, Sam gathered me into his arms for a hug before I had time to register anything about him. My feet left the ground and I squealed. "Sammy!"
He put me on my feet and he was smiling. "Hi."
"Captain America? I like!" I admired his dark blue t-shirt with the Captain America shield on the front.
"You do?" he asked, and I could see his cheeks turn red.
"Yeah. Super heroes are sort of an obsession of mine too."
"Mercy, how awesome are you? Damn! It should be illegal to be so pretty and awesome!"
I cocked my head to the side, "You should talk, looking like you look and being adorkable all at the same time!"
"Knew you thought I was hot." He walked over to my refrigerator like he'd been doing it forever, grabbed two waters and said, "I forgot beverages."
With the waters in one hand, he held out the other for me. Hesitantly, I took his hand and let him lead me out the door. When we stopped for me to lock it, I noticed he still had a grip on my hand. Chill out, Mercy, friends hold each others' hands, right? Wait…did I just call my damn self Mercy…this boy!
"Mercy, you alright?"
"Oh I'm fine," I said as he led me to his car.
He turned around to look at me with a smirk. I was growing to learn that this was not a good sign. Something flirty was always yet to follow. "I know you're fine. But I asked are you alright."
My cheeks were on fire. I was so glad I couldn't be caught blushing. "I'm good."
"That's yet to be determined."
I jerked my hand out of his and covered my mouth to stifle my laugh. "Now you're just being nasty!"
When we got to his car, an older model red mustang, he opened the door for me to get in. He didn't tell me where exactly we were going, but then again I didn't ask. I trusted him, and I prayed that he wouldn't break my trust.
We arrived at the park and Sam got out a blanket and food. I took the waters. He found a nice spot in the grass to lay the blanket and we sat down. "Have you ever had a midnight picnic before?"
"I've never had a picnic period."
He gaped at me for a second before saying, "Well this is my first midnight picnic." He raised his water bottle. "To firsts."
I touched mine to his and we began to eat. We sat in comfortable silence as we ate. Sam practically inhaled his food, and I ate mine at a slower pace. Noticing that he had pasta sauce at the corner of his mouth I reached out, but abruptly put my hand down. The action didn't go unnoticed by him. "What? What were you about to do?" He looked amused.
"You have pasta sauce at the corner of your mouth."
"Where?" He proceeded to wipe everywhere but where I'd pointed out. "I'm still not getting it. Guess you'll just have to get it for me then?"
Sighing, I rose to my knees, leaning over I used my thumb to wipe away the sauce. What I wasn't expecting was his tongue to dart out and lick my finger before I could move it from his mouth. "Sam!" I shrieked.
He fell back laughing. "I regret nothing! The look on your face was priceless!"
Sam quieted down, just looking up at the sky. I joined him, laying on my back just inches from him. "So why did you really call me tonight?"
"Can I be honest, and you not think I'm crazy?"
He reached over and grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. "Always."
"I had a really great day with the choreographer, and you were the only person I wanted to tell. Is that weird?"
I could feel his gaze on me, but I kept looking up at the sky. "No. There is nothing wrong with wanting to tell your friend about your day. It's what people do."
Smiling, I went into my story about Mike. Sam paid attention to my every word, and he laughed with me at some points as well. "So how was your day?
"Pretty boring, actually. Mercedes, can I ask you a question?"
I gave his hand a squeeze like he had to mine earlier. "Anything."
"Why is getting you pizza like a covert mission?"
"Because my parents think that salad and fruits are the only things I should eat. I need to be skinny, and pretty. They don't like who I am."
Sam looked at me, and I looked back at him, holding his gaze. "I think who you are is just fine. I like you just the way you are."
Damn Sam and his constantly knowing the right things to say. I was once again feeling overwhelmed by his words, and the fact that all he wanted from me was just to be myself. "Mercy, no! Don't you do it! We're trying to break this habit, remember?" His eyes looked panicked. "Come here."
He let go of my hand and outstretched his arm. I slid over and rested my head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around me. "Mercy, you're so pretty. I don't know why you don't see it. I could name off all the beautiful things about you right now."
"Please don't. You might get carried away and head right back into nasty. I might have to slap you then."
That night, Sam did most of the talking. He told me about his friends Santana and Brittany and his job at the pizza place. He told me stories of enraged callers, and times when people dinned and dashed. I let him chatter on about video games with his friend Artie, and cleaning pools with Puck. Being in his arms and listening to him talk had me feelings things I shouldn't for my friend Sam. I shouldn't be developing a crush on this boy. I shouldn't be deeming it necessary to hear his voice every day. His voice was so soothing that I was drifting off to sleep.
"Mercy, let me get you home okay, darlin'?"
We tossed the food containers and water bottles, so all Sam had to carry was the blanket. As if by habit once more, he reached for my hand on the way to the car. I was pretty quiet on the way home. That one hour of sleep finally catching up to me. When we arrived, I was about to get out, but Sam insisted on walking me to my door. "Get some rest," he advised, hugging me.
"You drive safe, okay?"
Sam nodded before walking back toward his car. I walked into the house, too tired to even change. I got into bed, jeans and all falling fast into sleep. The level of tired I was had been well worth it. Sam was nothing like anyone I'd met before, and I looked forward to spending more time with him in the future.
These two seem to be getting closer every day! What did y'all think of Mike and Sam's parents?
Thanks as always for the reviews, favorites and alerts.
