A/N - Haha, yes, bear suit man actually did happen, but instead of kidnapping her, he just attacked her car. The guy asking her to homecoming tried to fight bear suit man off, but he ended up dying. Sadly. And then one year, during the spring musical, two of the actors staged this choreographed sword fight right before the show for a girl sitting in the front row. And with an almighty thrust of his sword, the guy doing the actual asking throws the other guy off, whips out a bouquet of roses and asks the girl to prom right then and there in front of a huge audience. It was really corny, but funny at the same time.

But anyways, on with the story...

Chapter 10

The next several weeks at Seattle Grace Prep were some of the most hectic of my life. It seemed as if everyone was going crazy with homecoming plans. Rumors of who was eating with whom for dinner before the dance, who wasn't invited to eat where, and so-and-so was stealing her best friend's dress idea were flying around the school with unparalleled fury. The stress of all the planning was starting to getting to people. Izzie was starting to snap at everyone more than was necessary and even George didn't smile as often as he used to.

Addison was starting to show the strain as well. She was part of the student council, and it was the duty of the student council to plan the dance. Everyday at lunch, she brought a catalog with her of different balloon colors, spray paints, and flowers, not to mention résumés of hopeful photographers that wanted to take pictures of the event. Everyday she asked our opinions on what we thought would be the best color for the walls, and after telling her what we thought would look good very nicely and helpfully, she shook her head, called us stupid, and decided how she wanted the walls to be on her own.

Mark's football practices started getting longer and longer. Addison informed me that he was an important part of the team, and we were playing our archrivals, the Seattle Bay High Seahawks that night, and it was absolutely imperative that we win.

"They scheduled us to play them on their homecoming last year," Addison explained, "which was a huge slap to the face."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you schedule teams that are generally easier to win against on your homecoming," she continued. "You know, to make sure that you can't lose. It's a school pride thing."

"Okay," I nodded like I understood.

"And since they scheduled us and they ended up winning, we have to win this game to get them back."

The only people in the school who seemed unaffected were the teachers, who held no qualms whatsoever in assigning as much homework as they could. Almost every single night was devoted to getting my mountain of homework done before I went to bed. I had no time to call anyone, not even my boyfriend. No one really took it personally, except for Izzie. She liked talking while she did her work, and I didn't. It generally drove me insane when I tried to do my homework with her yapping away on the phone, so I stopped calling after a while.

In the end, all I could really do was hope that homecoming was worth all the hype.

"Okay, so where do you guys want to eat for homecoming dinner?" Addison asked as we all sat down to lunch the next day.

"Where did we eat last year?" Burke asked.

"The Blue Umbrella," she replied, referring to the notebook in her lap.

"I liked that place," Derek commented. "They had good breadsticks."

"Um, let's not," Mark said sheepishly. "That place brings back bad memories."

"Why?" George asked curiously, but Addison gave a loud cough, signaling him to drop it. But everyone knows that doesn't work.

"I…um…well…" he struggled as Derek watched him in amusement. "It's a funny story, really…"

"Laura didn't seem to think so," Derek said with a smirk. His friend shot him a dirty look, but it was too late.

"Who's Laura?" I accused.

Burke and Derek struggled to hide their smiles while Addison excused herself from the table. I had a feeling that his explanation was going to be more than interesting.

"Um, well Laura was my homecoming date last year," he began, a little nervously. His cuteness would have been endearing if I hadn't already been so weary.

"And…?" I prompted.

"And…the waitress was flirting with me."

"Tell her what else happened, Mark," Derek encouraged as the complacent smirk spread across his face.

He sighed. "Okay, fine. The waitress was flirting with me and I thought she was hot, so I sort of…flirted back. Laura didn't like it, so she was a little upset during dinner. Then I went to the bathroom right before we left, and the waitress followed me. We ended up making out right in front of the men's room…and Laura caught us."

My mouth compressed in a thin line. "You went to homecoming dinner and you made out with the waitress," I summarized slowly and clearly. "What happened after that?"

He turned incredibly red. "Laura never talked to me again and I started going out with the waitress."

I was silent for a few moments as I absorbed the story. Mark was watching me apprehensively, waiting in anxiety for my reaction. "I'm disappointed in you, Mark," I said softly.

His face fell and he took my hands in his. "Meredith, you gotta believe me. It was a total mistake! I know that what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry. But I'd never do something like that to you! I swear it!"

I examined his eager expression carefully. He seemed so set on my knowing that he would never do anything to hurt anyone like that, most especially me. It was all in his eyes. He changed. He changed, and he wanted me to know that. But what really convinced me was the way he called me Meredith; he didn't call me Grey, like he normally did. No, he called me Meredith. My full name.

"All right then," I said, looking him straight in the eyes. I wasn't totally convinced, but I was willing to give him the chance to prove it. "We won't go to the Blue Umbrella."

"You know, I saw the look on your face," Derek said. We were sitting on the brick wall surrounding the school, waiting for our respective significant others.

I glanced at him with a curious expression. "What look?" I asked.

"That untrusting look," he replied. "When Mark told you about Laura and the waitress at lunch today. You didn't look like you trusted him."

I sighed. "That's because I didn't."

"Then why did you say okay?"

I didn't answer him immediately. Instead, I traced patterns in the dirt with the toe of my shoe, contemplating the answer. Finally after a few minutes, I replied, "Because he said my name like he was sorry."

"He's good at that, you know." I looked at him, surprise written on my face. "At making it sound like he's sorry. He's good at it."

"I don't understand. What are you trying to say?"

He sighed. "I'm trying to say, be careful, Mer, okay? He's known for charming his way out of anything."

"I thought you said he really liked me."

"He does," Derek quickly amended. "But he's still Mark. No pretty freshman, no matter how special or different is going to change that."

I knew that I really shouldn't have gotten upset or anything; he was just trying to help out, after all. I knew it…but I didn't feel it.

"What are you trying to insinuate, Derek?" I asked, my voice dangerously low.

"I'm not trying to insinuate anything," he argued. "I'm just trying to tell you to be careful. I know some girls have superhero complexes or whatever. They think that they can save their boyfriend from being a badass or something, but Mark will always be that way. You can't change him, no matter how much you want to."

"Who said anything about changing him?" I asked angrily. "I don't want to change him. Mark will be Mark, and I know there's nothing I can do about that."

He sighed. "Meredith, he was a playboy the moment he hit adolescence. He's never slowed down until he met you, okay? I just don't know how long this change is going to last, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

I glared at him. "Why the hell do you care, Derek? It's none of your business."

I could tell he was starting to get exasperated. "Look, I consider you my friend, okay? And I don't like it when my friends get hurt. I'm just saying that you should look out for yourself. Mark is a good guy, but sometimes he's not the greatest boyfriend on the planet."

I got off the wall and walked off. I couldn't talk about it with him anymore. I just couldn't. Derek was the last person on earth I would tell about my relationship with Mark, mainly because the two of them were best friends.

Not to mention, he had these eyes that made me feel and say things that I didn't want to feel or say. And that scared me.

The moment I got home, I grabbed the phone and called Cristina. She knew immediately from my distressed tone that I was in serious need of a friend.

"What happened?" she asked, and I began to relate to her the content of the conversation I shared with Derek after school.

She listened very carefully and paused for a while after I finished the story. "I'm not really used to interacting with people and stuff, but I dunno, Mer…maybe he was just being nice. You know, telling you to look after yourself and stuff. Isn't that the kind of things friends say to one another?"

I sighed. "Yes, but it was just the way he said it, you know? I guess you would have had to be there to understand, but he said it like he was my parent or something."

"Isn't that a good thing? Honestly, Mer, why is this bothering you so much?"

"Because!" I exclaimed, as if it were an adequate answer to the question. "He shouldn't be worrying about me like that! And when he does…it just makes me feel weird."

"Whatever, Mer," Cristina muttered. I couldn't see her, but I could practically hear her roll her eyes. "You're weird."

The next day at school, I was especially careful to avoid him. I didn't see him much during the day anyways, just at lunch, but during that time, I made sure I didn't glance his way once. I had the slightest suspicion that he was watching me, but I didn't care to look back. I hated that he looked at me with such concern. It wasn't his right.

"Did you and Derek get in a fight or something?" Mark asked me as he walked me to my locker after lunch.

"What makes you think that?" I asked shortly, not looking at him.

"Well, you refused to look at him the entire time, for one," he began, "and the rest of the time, he kept looking at you like he wanted to tell you something. Like he was sorry."

I sighed. "We sort of got into a little thing. Not even really a thing. More like a thinglet."

I brought my gaze to Mark's face and couldn't help but smile at the curious look. His eyebrows were lifted in bewilderment, and his mouth was twisted in a smirk. "Okay then…what was discussed in this thinglet?"

I bit my lip as a battle raged in my head. One part of me argued that I needed to tell him; I couldn't not tell him; he was my boyfriend for crying out loud! All those magazines on the newsstands in front of the cash register at grocery stores keep telling me that communication in a relationship is absolutely key. But the other side of me screamed at me to keep my mouth shut.

The former won.

"Yesterday, I was sitting on the wall right in front of the school, waiting for you, and Derek was waiting for Addison with me. Then he told me that he saw the look on my face after you told me about Laura and the waitress."

Mark winced at the reference, but said nothing, waiting for me to continue my story.

"He said it looked like I didn't trust you to keep your promise. And I guess a part of me doesn't, but I'm willing to give you a chance, so don't worry," I added quickly as I saw him open his mouth to protest. "I don't trust you completely, but give me time and I will," I said gently as I brought the palm of my hand against his face. He smiled back at me and kissed me fleetingly on the lips.

"Go on. What else happened?"

"I told him that, and he told me to be careful. He said that ever since you hit puberty you had always been a player or something like that and no freshman, no matter how pretty or different or special was going to change that."

He sighed. "Is that what this is about?" He took my hands in his much like he had yesterday when he told me he would never hurt me the way he hurt Laura. "Meredith, I know you don't trust me, but I also know that you're giving me a chance. A chance I probably don't deserve, but you're giving me a chance anyways. I don't deserve anyone nearly as amazing, perfect, sweet, or beautiful as you, but by some miracle, I have you. But Derek's wrong. You have changed me. I've changed because I want to show you that there's more to me than my past." He kissed me gently on the lips as I closed my eyes. "I love you. And I will do anything to get you to love me too."

The bell rang and we parted in hasty terms, but not before giving me one last kiss. I didn't really recognize it though, as I rushed through the halls to get to my class. When I got into Latin, Cristina took one look at me and said, "Uh-oh. What happened?"

"McSteamy just said he loved me," I said softly as I slid into my seat, still in shock. I was facing straight forward, staring at the blackboard but not really seeing anything. I was too preoccupied to think of anything else.

I vaguely registered Cristina sputtering her shock. "Mc-McSteamy told you he LOVED YOU?" she all but shouted.

I shrugged.

"Oh my god," Cristina muttered. "McSteamy loves you. What happened?"

I told her how the whole scene played out while facing her, but not really seeing anything. I was floating in a trancelike state, unable to really focus on anything, and instead allowing the words to pour out of my mouth. When I was finished, she asked, "Do you love him back?"

I shrugged, returning my hazy focus to Mr. Pactor, who was writing something on the board. I faintly heard her mutter, "Oh," and "I get it," but I didn't bother to ask her what exactly she got. Some deep, dormant voice in the back of my mind said that it was important, but I shoved it away and chalked her epiphany up to an academic understanding of the concepts written on the board.

Then she said something that sounded an awful lot like, "You like McDreamy."

I didn't really notice it then. I was too confused to hear, say, or understand anything. I was still too focused (or unfocussed, rather) on the fact that Mark loved me. But in hindsight, I think I did hear her. I just refused to acknowledge the truth of her words.

A/N - Uh-oh. Mer likes McDreamy, but McSteamy loves her. Dun dun dun...

mcobsessed - Nah, I'm not from a small town. Just a small school.

xoxMartini-Kissesxox - Yeah, I agree. Roses are kinda cliche.

smilexbrighter93 - Really? That's awesome. I go to school in Fort Worth.

CSI3Lyra - Haha, no, neither bear suit man nor banner guy asked me to homecoming. But my sophomore year, this guy (we were both in Band by the way) left a huge bouquet of roses in the bell of my horn and put up signs everywhere. Then he asked me straight up and gave me more roses. And I agree, roses are cliche, but they're also a little sweet sometimes. And no, I never did have Christmas lights on my mum, but I had a string of really loud jingle bells. I sounded like Santa's reindeer every time I rounded a corner.