Awww! Big, big hugs and kisses to whoever read/reviewed/alerted/favored this story. Y'all are making it exciting to write my first Samcedes story. Thanks so much!
Sorry for any errors you see...
Mercedes stretched a little before closing her door and heading down the street. She told Puck she wasn't feeling well enough to jog, but in reality she just wanted time alone to think. She let the cold air fill her lungs as she jogged lightly around the block. Pretty soon the places and people she had known all her life, had seen every day would be gone. Pretty soon all of her worries would be distant memories. She was still so young, so naïve. How could she be sure she knew how she felt about anything?
Not long after hitting the pavement did her thoughts drift to Sam, as they so often did. Maybe she was mistaking something else for love. Maybe she thought she loved him because of the ardor she thought reflected in his eyes when he looked at her, or the care he took when he held her. Love shouldn't be this complicated, this painful. This, this was a delusional girl holding onto someone she should have let go a long time ago, that she should have never grown accustomed to holding. Hers was the face of a fool, creating emotions that never really were. Maybe it wasn't love, maybe it was comfort. Maybe that was all she could ever get.
She'd realized she spent more time pining over Sam than she had being with him. It hardly seemed rational to think he would wait for her, especially when their ending had an unmistakable air of finality. Without realizing she began picking up the pace, her walk turning into a run as images of Sam filled her head.
So what if she were shattered when she eyed that blonde? Who cared if she felt inadequate, inexperienced in every way by comparison? So what if she cried herself to sleep in that all too empty house? She was a teen. She was allowed to be dramatic.
She gathered more speed as her run turned into a sprint. And what's worse, she had no one to blame but herself. This is what happened when you ignore the quiet voice inside. This is what occurs when you make assumptions. Now more determined than ever, she vowed to shift her focus to deciding on a college; on interviews and packing, on courses and roommates—these were things in her immediate future, things she could control. High school would just be a soon-forgotten blip.
She needed to get over him, and more importantly get over herself, needed to ignore the notion that love was all about pain and suffering. That it was bad to seek peace and normalcy. The more she thought about it the more comfort seemed to be gaining appeal.
She told herself this lie to protect what was remaining of her heart. She had been losing pieces of it since her childhood and held on to the remaining bits like a rabid dog. What would happen if she gave him what was left and he crushed that too?
She was back at her door in no time, not even registering that she ran for 20 minutes. Her shirt was drenched in sweat and the burn she felt on her cheeks, across her thighs and in her lungs was spreading throughout her body. Grabbing her toiletries to take a shower she smiled. For the first time in a long time, she was in control.
Once she was at school she took a deep breath, already knowing it was going to be a long day. Her words came to pass sooner than she realized as she bumped into the one person she didn't want to be bothered with on her way to her locker. He held his hands out hesitantly on her shoulders to steady her.
"Mercedes are you okay?"
She tensed at his touch. She knew she would see him twice a day—that was a given. She could prepare herself for those meetings, psych herself up. But to run into him un-expectantly, especially when her feelings were so helter-skelter? That was just cruel. Moving away from him she gripped her messenger bag tighter. "I'm fine Mr. Evans. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go." With all the strength that was in her, she brushed past him and continued on her way to her locker. He wasn't allowed to break her. Not again.
Sam sucked his cheeks in as he tried not to let his eyes rake over her frame. If he wondered whether she was angry with him after yesterday her icy reception just gave him his answer. He needed to explain himself but there never seemed to be a right time. And hearing her call him Mr. Evans sent daggers to his heart. How was he going to make her listen?
It only got worse when he entered the classroom. There she was looking like sunshine and whispering with that sneaky Puckerman boy. His stomach dropped slightly when she hugged Noah tightly and he held her like he just won the World Series. Noah made him uncomfortable. He stared at Mercedes a little too intently for Sam's liking. He could tell his girl (she would always be his girl, even if she couldn't actually be his girl) never noticed but he honestly didn't know what he was going to do if Noah Puckerman made a move. Sam blew out a breath and carded a frustrated hand through his hair. Damn, his life was a teenage melodrama. He opted instead to throw his energy into helping his students prepare for their big test.
Once the bell rung he had this strange sense of déjà vu wash over him. He watched her scramble to collect her things and rush out of his class, her mohawked friend dutifully in tow.
"Ms. Jones, if I may have a word?" Sam couldn't have her staring at him like he was the devil incarnate. He couldn't let her let her go without explaining himself.
She grimaced and rolled her eyes, hoping Puck didn't see her expression. Placing a hand on his shoulder she spoke softly. "Puck I'll meet you in there. I have to go speak to Mr. Evans for a few minutes."
Puck nodded, but eyed the jittery looking teacher warily. "Are you sure?"
"Yes I'm sure."
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Okay, but hurry up. We've only got 30 minutes before the bus comes."
She watched him walk away truing to compose herself. When she heard him click the lock and move her towards the middle of the room she steeled herself for what he was going to say.
Leaning on his desk she cocked her head to the side and waited for him to begin. After two minutes of him staring blankly at her she scoffed, moved past him and made her way to the door.
He watched her turn to leave and all the color drained from his face. This wasn't supposed to be hard. He was supposed to explain himself and walk away. With her hand on the doorknob he blurted out. "It wasn't a date."
Mercedes turned around and looked at him. "It doesn't matter Sam, we're not together. You don't have to explain yourself to me."
"Except that I do." He walked over to her and gently tugged at her wrist, silently pleading that she look at him. He sighed once she did. She looked so hurt and he knew he was partly to blame. "The girl you saw is Frannie Fabray. She's a family friend—an older, bossy family friend. She was passing through town to reconnect with her sister before her wedding. She always teasing me for being lazy, so I thought I'd make a fancy dinner for her. She really just needed advice. I sat there the whole meal bored out of my mind. I spent the whole time thinking about you."
Mercedes nodded taking this information in. She thought back to this morning and all she could say was, "you don't have to tell me this."
"Yes. I do. I freaked when I saw you and the Rachel Berry girl at my door. She had been acting weird around me, and I didn't know what to say. You want to know something funny? When I saw you standing there I thought you came to see me. I was so happy in that moment." His hand trailed up her arm to her face. "I miss you."
She sighed. "I miss you too. So much."
Impulsively an idea struck him. One that could mean disaster if he was caught. "Can you meet me somewhere afterschool?"
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"I'll be at Davis Park in Lafayette Hills at 4:30. I hope to see you there."
She mumbled her goodbyes as she unlocked the door and left the classroom.
Sam paced a little and he wrung his hands as he waited for Mercedes to arrive. He stomach had been twisting in knots since he saw her leave his classroom. He didn't even know the purpose of this meeting. She knew everything at it should be over right? Except he knew he couldn't keep living like this. She'd hadn't shown up to the grade improvement program (leaving him with a very mocking Tina Cohen Chang and her snide ass comments) and since he first got to town. He had to see if this was worth salvaging, worth treading shark infested waters, although he already knew it was.
He stood once he saw her walking away towards him and for the first time in a long time, his heart felt lighter. "I didn't think you would show. You seem to have a knack for running away from me. I missed you afterschool."
Even as she told herself to go into this meeting with an open mind, she felt herself becoming defensive. "I had something to do."
"Are you sure you weren't just avoiding me?" He folded his arms and raised one eyebrow. Mercedes wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face.
She couldn't let him think she was another one of his fans. Her world didn't revolve around him. Reaching into her purse and pulled out her trip authorization form and hurled it into his chest. "I had a college tour at Ohio State with Puck. It's one of the schools I'm considering. Not everything is about you."
He read it over and felt every bit of the jackass her eyes were telling him he was. Looking up at her he moved to apologize. "Mercedes—"
She lifted her hand. She had enough. It was an endless cycle with them. They would do or say something hurtful and apologize immediately afterwards, only to hurt each other again. It was exhausting. She wanted off this ride for both their sanities. "Don't. Just don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for. We happened, we're over. It sucks, it's sad, but it's time to move on." She looked away from him refusing to let him see her cry. Not again.
Touching her face he lifted her chin to meet his eyes. "No. It's not time to move on. Don't you get it? You think it's easy to see you every day, smell you and not be able to touch you? It's fucking torture. It hurts. I told you I love you. Did you think that went away because we couldn't be together? I know it's wrong, I know it's damn near impossible, but I can't treat you like another student because that's not what you are. You're everything to me and no matter how much you try to deny it or how hard you try to push me away I know that you still care about me too."
She smiled, feeling powerful when she felt him shudder as she traced his lips with her thumb.
Her mental tug of war was over once she looked at him. Even as her mind screamed to move away, to push him away she found her body being pulled closer to him. Her last thought before he crashed his mouth on hers was Fuck Comfort.
Fuck comfort, and fuck easy. She wanted difficult, she needed complicated. It's how she knew this was real. So she'd welcome knock-down drag out verbal spars and achingly pleasurable make-ups. She craved his lips on hers, his hands moving her hair away. She was giddy over his kisses and nips and Oh. Craning her neck she moved to give him better access. She sighed and closed her eyes as he sucked one of her favorite spots, marking her as his after months of being apart.
It occurred to her that they were in broad daylight but logic and sensibility could go the way of comfort. And when his tongue eased its way into her mouth she responded expeditiously. She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms tighter around him, bringing him closer. He lowered her onto a picnic table, thankful that his assumption that no person in their right mind would frequent a park in the middle of an Ohio winter was correct. Theoretically he should be cold, but with her close and his hands remapping her body, he was on fire. Breaking apart before their display became (more) indecent, they breathed heavily and he lay next to her on the wooden table, cuddling her close to him.
She leaned into him as he laced their fingers together when he walked her to her car. They had a new understanding. They never defined their relationship, but Mercedes had felt more at peace than she had in a long time. The spark was still there, still undeniable and still worth pursuing. He felt it too. She knew whatever tomorrow brought, she was his just as he was hers.
