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Standard disclaimer.

Bonus chapter. Enjoy :)

MERCEDES

Being home was a relief, standing in my heated old bedroom, surrounded by all my things from childhood, straight up to my teen years.

But I've been in this funk, since we arrived in Hagerstown, three days ago.

I needed to get peppy or something.

Christmas Eve was in two days, and it'd always been my favorite holiday...the food, the family, the presents...everything about it.

Meh.

My bedroom was weird, in a way, like a time capsule. It never bothered me before, but right now? I wanted to take a sledgehammer to the room.

I was embarrassed by the brown and white teddy bears, stacked near the pillows.

I picked one up, a red bear, that Sam had given me, for my eleventh birthday.

Pain sliced my chest, and I placed the bear back down and turned away from my bed.

I was bored with the overstocked bookcases, also. And I couldn't care less about the ribbons my mom had tacked on the wall above my desk, hanging in a line, next to the academic awards, I'd accumulated throughout high school.

There were also those newspaper cuttings of the Dean's List. Ugh!

I started to straighten one of the frames, but stopped and left it the way it was...crooked...unbalanced...and imperfect.

Turning away from the awards, ribbons, and clippings, I picked up my old cell phone off the bed and slipped it into my pocket.

Then, I headed downstairs, finding my mom in the kitchen. Dad was still at the office...some things never changed, including his late nights.

The whole lower floor, smelled like apple pie and cinnamon...usually my favorite.

My mom looked up from the magazine she was poring over, as I dropped into the seat in front of her.

"Are you still going out with Quinn tonight?" she asked.

Dropping my elbows on the table, I put my chin in my hands.

"Yeah, she's driving up from Frederick and picking me up in a little bit. We're going to grab dinner."

And I had a feeling, she'd be visiting Noah later, who was home in Smithsburg, about ten minutes away.

"Good." Mom winked. "I didn't put enough chicken in the oven, to feed you and your father."

"Wait! You had a feeling I was going out, didn't you?"

She laughed softly as she flipped a page.

"Sure did. It's been three days, since you've been holed up in your room...and the house. Has your lip been bothering you?"

"No. It's fine."

And it practically was. There was just a little mark was on it, near the corner, and my jaw didn't hurt anymore.

"I hope you're not worrying about it," I added.

"Of course I'm worrying about it. What you went through?" She took a deep breath and closed the magazine. Looking up, she fixed dark eyes on me. "Honey, I..."

"I really don't want to talk about it." I placed my hands on the kitchen table. "I'm fine, mom. It's over. In the past."

"Until the case goes to court," she reminded me gently.

"He might plead guilty, and then I won't have to testify or anything." And God, I really hoped that was the case. "Anyway, if I have to do it, I'll do it."

My mom didn't say anything for a moment, as she watched me.

I sighed and sat back, knowing she was about to say something, I didn't want to hear. She had that 'Mom' look about her.

"Honey," she started, and my suspicions were confirmed. "I was talking to Mrs. Barnes about what happened. You know, she's the school counselor..."

'Oh. Dear. God.'

"...And she suggested, what I thought would be best," she continued carefully. "I think you should talk to someone about what happened to you."

"What?" My jaw hit my lap. "You're kidding, right?"

Mom frowned.

"Honey, you're going to school to be a psychiatrist..."

"Psychologist," I corrected.

Her frown deepened.

"Anyway, you know how important it is for people to talk things out and not hold them in."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I did know how important that was. And while those moments with Zander had been the scariest in my life...and there were still moments, where it haunted me...I didn't need to talk about it and soak up a therapist's time, that could be better spent, helping someone who needed it.

"Mom, I don't need to talk to anyone. I'm okay. Really, I am. I promise."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Then why have you been moping around this house, like someone kicked your puppy into the street?"

I made a face, but my stomach dropped.

"That's real nice, mom."

"You know what I mean."

Tracing the grain in the wood of the tabletop, I shrugged.

"I haven't been moping around."

"Yes, you have."

She picked up her cup and stood, taking it over to the sink, where she washed it out, before slipping it into the dishwasher.

When she finished, she faced me and crossed her arms.

"I have never seen you so listless and unhappy this close to Christmas before. So if it wasn't what happened to you, then what is it?"

"It's nothing. I'm just in a mood or something."

Mom sighed.

"Honey, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything. You're not too old for that."

"I know." But what was bothering me, was something, I was so not talking to my mom about.

Her lips pursed.

"Is it Sam?"

Ah, there it was.

That horrible, sinking feeling expanded through me, at the mention of his name.

My entire body locked up, and a hollow feeling poured into my chest. It was like being punched and knocked down.

Sam. Sam. Sam.

I'd tried not to think about him, since I'd left Snowshoe. That was as easy and as fun, as playing Frogger on the interstate.

Sam consumed my thoughts, no matter what I did. And the worst part? Two out of the three nights, I'd dreamt about him. God, it made me lamer than normal.

But I did know something, I'd never really known before.

This was what a broken heart really felt like.

Silly me, thinking I knew what it felt like, every time I'd seen him with a new chick. That had nothing on this.

I tucked my hair back and decided on saying,

"Why do you think it has to do with Sam?"

"Well, for starters, I'm not blind."

My brows rose.

"Sam hasn't been here once, since you got home. That boy practically lives in this house, when you're home from school. And not once, has he stopped by, and that is like the sign of the apocalypse."

I would've laughed at that, but it was true and it made my throat burn.

"I thought it was strange how you left, without saying goodbye to him, but I chalked it up to the shock of everything, that'd happened."

Mom walked over to the table and sat across from me.

"And then, there's the fact, that I'm pretty sure, he hasn't even called you."

'Wow! Thanks for reminding me.'

Not that I believed he'd call. I'd made things pretty clear in Snowshoe, but the fact that he hadn't called, stung like a hornet.

And that was stupid, because, I wasn't ready to talk to him.

But, if I was being honest with myself...which sucked and who wanted to do that...I knew what I really wanted. I wanted Sam to come begging and pleading for forgiveness...forgiveness I wasn't even sure I could give.

"So, I'm assuming, something happened between you two," Mom said.

"You know what they say about assuming things..."

Mom's expression looked like she'd swallowed something sour.

"Funny, very funny Mercedes."

A sigh shuttled through me. I didn't know what to say or how to begin. What could I tell her?

"Mom..."

My phone buzzed with a message from Quinn. She was outside.

I flew from the table, relieved.

"I got to go. Quinn's here."

"Mercedes..."

"Mom, I'm okay. Everything is fine with Sam." I gave her a quick hug. "Really."

I darted from the house, before my mom could stop me, grabbing my jacket off the back of the couch.

Nearly breaking my neck on the iced-over driveway, I joined Quinn in her toasty Honda.

"Hey, girl," Quinn chirped, studying me in the dim light, like I was some kind of science experiment. "You don't look too busted up."

I rolled my eyes.

"Gee, thanks, I think."

She tossed her hair off her forehead.

"I'm glad you don't. Holy shit! Girl, I still can't believe it. You could've died! Or worse."

I wondered what was worse than dying.

"Or you could've ended up on Dateline or something." She shook her head, as she slipped the car into drive. "Or maybe, had an episode of Law and Order based on it."

I laughed then.

"You're nuts."

"But you love me," she replied as she coasted into the street. "And I love you. So on a serious note, I want to drive to Snowshoe and stab that asshole in the eyeball."

"Me, too."

She flashed me a quick grin.

"Where to?"

Since there wasn't a huge selection around here, I told her to hit Route 11 and head toward 81.

"What are you in the mood to eat?" I asked.

"Hmm." She tapped a gloved finger off her chin. "I'm in the mood for...meat."

"Go figure."

She smacked my arm.

"Whatever."

I listed our choices and we settled on Outback.

The drive was a little slower than usual, with the shoulders of the highway still covered in snow and the wind tossing flurries everywhere.

As we got out of the car, Quinn caught me in a squeeze-worthy hug.

"Sorry," she said, leaning back. "I was really upset when you told me what happened. I don't know what I'd do..."

"It's okay. Look, what happened was messed-up to the max, but I'm totally okay."

She turned away quickly, and I swore she wiped under her eye, but I had to be seeing things, because, I have never seen the girl cry.

Not even during The Notebook, or those terrible Humane Society commercials, that always made me tear up.

The restaurant was pretty packed, with last-minute Christmas shoppers from the nearby mall, and I went to the restroom, while Quinn asked for a table.

We didn't have to wait too long.

After the waiter took our drink orders and plopped down fresh bread, Quinn picked up the huge knife and pointed it at me.

"Okay. So now that I'm not driving and I'm paying attention fully, you and I need to talk."

I leaned back against the cushion.

"Do you need to be holding a knife when you do it?"

"Oh, yeah, probably not the greatest thing, to be waving in your face. Sorry." She placed it down on her napkin slowly. "All right, we need to talk about Sam."

I blinked, not expecting that.

I hadn't told her a thing about Sam. I hadn't told anyone.

"W-what do you mean?"

"You're stuttering. That alone tells me a lot." Quinn picked up her glass and took a sip. "I know something went down between you two, because, Noah called me this morning..."

My eyes practically popped out of my head.

"Noah called you?"

"Oh yeah," she replied, looking like she was carrying a bucket full of secrets.

I gripped the edge of the table.

"What did he say?"

"More like what he didn't say." She cut a slice of bread and dropped it on my plate, but the balls of nerves were taking up too much room, for me to even think of eating. "He called to ask me, if I knew what happened between you and Sam in Snowshoe. I assumed, he meant the psycho redneck, but when I said that, he was like, 'oh, hell no!' He said he knew something went down between you two."

My mouth opened, but I didn't have a clue, as to what to say.

Heat swept across my cheeks, and I lowered my head, which was a dead giveaway.

Quinn's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, you dirty hussy, something did go down and you've kept quiet. I should disown you!"

The older couple across the way, looked over at our table, and I wanted to hide under it.

"Quinn, come on."

"I'm your best friend foreva," she said without a trace of shame. "You're required by the laws of feminism, to tell me these things."

I snapped out of my inability to speak.

"Whoa! I think you have the idea of feminism wrong."

"Whatever." Her eyes rolled. "You need to tell me what happened, because Noah said, Sam looks like he's done died and went to hell and hung out there for a while."

My heart spasmed.

"Really?"

She nodded.

"Supposedly, he has been on a two-day bender, and today is the first day the guy has been sober. So whatever went down, obviously didn't end with a Disney happily-ever-after. All I have to say, is that you need to tell me what is up, and it better include some R-rated stuff."

My brows knitted.

"What?" She raised her hands. "A girl can live vicariously, right? I mean, every chick out there, wants to star in a porn video with Sam, so I'm dying to know if he's that good."

"He's that good," the words were out of my mouth, before I could stop them.

Quinn smacked her hands down on the table.

"Oh, my God! You slept with him?"

I looked around, my face burning.

"Okay. Can we keep the sound volume down?"

"Sorry, but I'm just excited to hear about this. Not that I'm excited, that he obviously fucked up, because, I know it wasn't you that screwed this up. It was him...it's always the guy's fault."

Shaking my head, I released my breath.

In a weird way, it felt good to unload this.

Things still felt raw and abrasive and I prayed to God, I didn't start crying like a freak in the restaurant. But it was a relief, to finally put some of these things into words.`

I gave Quinn, the quick and not-so-dirty version of what happened, glossing over some of the details, that I'd die, before I spoke out loud.

She waved the waiter away, when he returned, to see if we were ready to order, leaving me to tell her about Sofia and why Zander started messing with us in the first place.

When I had finished, I slumped in my booth, absolutely exhausted.

"So...there you have it."

Quinn opened her mouth and closed it several times, like a fish out of water.

"Holy shit!..."

I took a sip of my Coke.

"Yep."

"Whoa! Okay, let me get a grip on this." She smoothed her hair off her face. "You got drunk and tried to come on to him. He turned you down, and then later said, you deserved better than a one-night stand, while he was feeling you up? Then you two caved to your wild monkey lust and had sex several times, doing it in a way, that he claimed he'd never done it before?"

Thank God she kept her voice low on that one.

"Sounds about right."

"And you guys spent over a day in pure sexual bliss, eating crackers and being all lovey-dovey, and it wasn't awkward or anything?"

I shook my head.

"Hmm..." She fiddled with her straw. "And he didn't act weird, right?"

"No. The exact opposite. He was...he was perfect. I thought that he must've really wanted to be with me, you know? And that morning, we even took a cold shower together. He was so sweet and then..." I sighed, feeling stupid. "He did seem a bit off that morning, but then, all of this happened."

Quinn's lips pursed.

"So, he obviously went over to Sofia's, but how do you know he did anything?"

I gave her a bland look.

"Okay." She raised her hands. "It's Sam, but you don't know what he did over there. Sure, it looks suspicious, and I can see why you'd think that, but you really don't know."

It wasn't like I hadn't considered, that maybe, Sam hadn't had sex with Sofia that day.

Once I'd gotten home and calmed down a little, that had crossed my mind every five seconds.

I shook my head again.

What if my initial suspicion had been true, but I convinced myself otherwise, and then found out I'd been right the first time?

My heart would be broken all over again.

"But he lied to me, Quinn. I asked him about Sofia and he said they weren't like that." I picked up a piece of bread, wanting to throw it. "He's never lied to me before."

"There is that," she agreed. "And the fact, that psycho redneck hurt you, because of Sam's never-ending sexual escapades. That's hard to get passed."

"Yeah," I mumbled and popped the bread in my mouth, wondering where our waiter had disappeared to. Quinn had probably scared him away.

"But...that's really not his fault, right? I mean, yeah, he might've slept with a chick and pissed off a boyfriend a year ago, but do you really think that's the first time he's done that?"

"I hope so." Then I rolled my eyes. "No. That's probably not the first time."

"And I know it bothered you before...I'm not saying that it didn't...but you still cared deeply for him." Her eyes met mine. "I guess what I'm getting at, is that, he really needs to make it up to you, for putting you in that position, but I don't see any of this, being insurmountable."

A tiny flare of hope kindled in my stomach, but I smashed it.

"Okay. Let's say that he didn't sleep with Sofia a couple of days ago, and I can get over the fact, that he didn't tell the truth about his past with her, and the shit with Zander, but I don't think it meant that much to him. That's the problem."

"I don't know if I agree," Quinn said. "Look, it's been obvious to everyone, that you've been madly in love with him. And it's the same for him."

"Really," I said dryly. "It was so obvious, with the bus terminal that is his pants?"

Quinn snorted.

"Guys are totally stupid, when it comes to unrequited love. We females pine away and keep our thighs closed for the most part, when we love someone we can't have. Guys swing their shit around at anything that has a hole, trying to forget the one they want."

"Wow!" I laughed. "So eloquently put."

She flashed a quick grin.

"It's true. Sort of like, the laws of physics. It's just the way it is, which brings me to a very important question. Do you still love him?"

My heart tumbled through my chest.

"I never said that I loved him."

Her eyes rolled.

"Okay. Stop the bullshit. Like I said, it's been obvious, since I've known you, that you were in love with him. Listening to you tell me about what happened, I can hear it in your voice. Answer the question."

I was pinned by her steady stare.

Quinn really needed to look into law enforcement or something. She'd never do that with her past...I get that...but damn if she didn't have the detective hardness in her voice.

I had a choice right then. I could tell her what I wanted to say, or I could tell the truth.

Sometimes, lying was the easiest thing to do, especially when, I was lying to myself. But saying the truth out loud, meant I could never take it back.

"Okay," I said. "I still love him." Once those words came out, I expected balloons and glitter to fall from the ceiling or something. Of course, that didn't happen. "I'm in love with him."

Quinn nodded slowly.

"Then, what do you want, Mercedes?"

I dumped the half-eaten bread on my plate.

"I don't know. I guess, I thought, he'd try to repair the friendship or something."

"But you don't just want a friendship."

"No."

Her brow rose.

"But you don't want a relationship?"

I opened my mouth and Quinn leaned forward.

"I get that you're mad, and trust me, you have every right. Sam has spent, how long, being the universal bicycle, that had no training wheels? And he has a lot to make up for, because, his actions hurt you. And I'm not saying you even have to forgive him. Honestly, I'd totally understand if you didn't. Guys suck, Sam among them, but..." She tapped her fingers. "...But if you are in love with him, and not forgiving him, hurts more than forgiving him does, and he wants to make it up to you, you'd be a fool to walk away from that, Mercy."

Knots formed in my belly, as I stared at my friend.

Not forgiving Sam would hurt worse in the end, even if we only remained friends.

Holding on to the anger would create nothing but bitterness. But I also didn't want to be the person, who gave so much of herself to someone, who didn't deserve it and ended up never being whole again.

I sighed, unsure of what to do or say.

"I don't know, Quinn. Maybe, after some time passes, things will go back to normal."

I felt stronger for saying that. Hopeful, even. Maybe we could move passed this, eventually.

That seemed more likely, than Sam professing his undying love for me.

"I guess, we'll just see," I said.

"You're right. We will see."

I raised a curious brow at her.

Quinn leaned back, dropping her hands on her legs.

"All right, don't hate me," she said.

Suspicion blossomed and spread like a weed through my mind.

"Why would I hate you?"

A sheepish look crept into her expression.

"Quinn?"

She bit down on her lip and cringed.

"I sort of invited guests to our dinner."

My stomach roiled.

"What?"

"Well, I sort of told Noah that we were going out to dinner, and he made the suggestion, that it would be a good idea to invite Sam, so it's really Noah's fault, not mine."

All I could do for several seconds, was stare at her, while part of me started squealing and doing jumping jacks. The other part wanted to get up and run for the door.

"You didn't."

"Uh..."

"Quinn!" I whispered shout.

She smiled tentatively.

"I sort of texted them where we were, and they should be here any minute."

Stay safe!