Mercedes put the last of the croissants in the box, wrapped it up, and handed it to Tina. Just as she was about to get started on another order, Santana walked into the kitchen.

"Oh, my god. How does it smell so good in here? Aren't kitchens supposed to smell like… kitchens?"

"Oh, look," Tina smiled sarcastically, "it's the girl who always comes in and sits on her butt all day while we do our jobs."

"Keyword being 'our'. I'm not an employee here, meaning my help here is purely conditional based on how much I feel like pitching in and how many bear claws I can eat afterward."

Mercedes smiled too. "Well, how much would you feel like helping out if I could get you two fresh out of the warmer?"

Santana shrugged. "Throw in a cake pop and I'll put on an apron right now."

She rolled her eyes at her. "Suit up."

As they were preparing orders, Noah came into the kitchen. "Hey, Mercedes, there's a woman who says her name's Arlene and she's picking up her usual?"

She looked up at him briefly and then back to what she was doing. "Yeah, it's in the freezer with her name on it. I'll go get it in a second."

"That's okay, I've got it."

Abandoning the task given to her, Santana walked over to Mercedes. "And he's gone as fast as he came. What's the deal with you two now?"

Mercedes shook her head. "We haven't really talked since the party."

"At all? It's been three weeks."

"I know, but I just…" She took a breath. "I don't want to have to deal with that right now. He messed up. It is what it is."

As if on cue for Santana's next question, Sam whisked a rack into the kitchen. "And what about him?"

"What about him?"

Santana fought the urge to roll her eyes. It was obvious that she still liked him, but Mercedes didn't know that she knew about it. Truthfully, she doubted Mercedes knew about it herself. "You haven't had any interesting conversations with him lately?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," she groaned as Tina walked back over to them. "You two ditched B4 and had a secret late-night rendezvous and you mean to tell me you haven't talked about it since?"

Mercedes frowned, confused and slightly irritated by the line of questioning. "No, why would we?"

"Can you tell us what happened again?" Tina asked.

"No! When are you guys going to stop talking about it?"

"That's not fair! You've told Santana like three times and you've only told me once."

"Then let Santana tell it to you. She should know it by heart by now. I don't know why you two and Kurt keep thinking that it's a night worth talking about. It's not." She wrapped up another order and started filling up the rack Sam has just wheeled in.

"Please?" Tina begged her.

The three girls stared at one another.

Mercedes huffed. "Fine. Come on." She led them to one of the offices in the back. "Where do you want me to start? Since you've both heard it before."

"Just start when you actually got there." Tina cheesed.

"Alright. Here we are. You want to go first or should I?" Mercedes looked up at Sam, who gave her a questioning look.

"Go first at what?"

She looked to the fence beside them. "What do you think?"

His eyes widened briefly. "You want me to jump a fence? Are you insane?"

"Maybe a little, yeah." She beamed.

"Okay. Maybe it's just the sober in me, but I have this feeling that if we were going to a place we're allowed to be in, then there would be a place for us to oh, I don't know, walk in."

"Fine, we're technically not allowed to do this. Now, do you want me to go first or not?"

He shook his head vigorously. "I don't want either of us to go first. I want us to get back in your car and go back to the house."

"Okay then, I'll go first."

"Cedes-"

"Hold my shoes." She kicked off her shoes, set them on top of the pizza box he was holding, and started backing up. She looked at Sam as she tightened the straps of the bookbag on her back. "And don't be weird and look up my dress when I do this." Before he could say anything else, she ran toward the fence, jumped onto it, and pushed herself over to the other side. With a successful landing, she let out an excited clap. "Woo! I love doing that. Okay, your turn. Pass the pizza and my shoes first."

"Mercedes I cannot jump a fence. I mean I can, but I can't. If I get caught doing something I'm not supposed to, it could open up a can of worms I wouldn't know how to close."

"How many times do we have to go through this? Look, once you see what's on the other side you'll thank me, seriously. And no one is going to catch us, so don't worry about that. Just do it. "

Sam stood there, unsure of what to do. What in the hell had possessed her to make him break the law with her? He hadn't known her for long, but he certainly didn't take her as the lawbreaking type.

"Pass. The pie. And pass. The pumps. Come on."

Sam did as told as prepared himself to climb the fence. Whatever was on the other side had better be worth it. When he followed suit and jumped the fence, what he saw amazed him. It was the city skyline, still teeming with its Friday nightlife. The skyscrapers lit up the sky with help from the number of vehicles in the street and streetlights along the sidewalk. "Wow."

"Told you." Mercedes smiled at him as she took a blanket out of her bag, laid it flat on the sand, and sat down with her things. "Come and enjoy the view."

Sam sat down beside her. "This is crazy. Where even are we? And why couldn't we walk here? Is there nothing nearby?"

"Oh, there's something nearby alright. This super expensive old folks home." She laughed. "They're all asleep by 5:30 so no one ever comes out here at night."

"I thought you said you didn't come to the lake like that?"

She looked at him. "I wasn't exactly going to tell my sister and grandmother that the only way I get to the lake is by climbing a massive wooden fence."

"Touché."

"Now, let's get to this pizza. Be ready to be amazed it is." She opened the box and sighed as she caught a whiff of the pizza inside. "Double pepperoni with extra cheese."

Sam got his slice and immediately moaned as he bit into it, "Oh, my god."

"Isn't it so good? My favorite pizzeria ever. And, it's the only place in the city that serves the cupped pepperoni."

"The cupped pepperoni really does take it to the next level."

"Right? I know it's greasy, but—"

"Oh, no," Sam shook his head, "I love greasy pizza."

"Really? Me too!" She all but shouted.

"Especially when it's flavorful grease, you know?"

"Exactly. It makes it so much better. It gives it this… this extra…"

"Oomph!"

"YES!" She jumped a little as she yelled. "Oh, my god. You, you are heaven-sent, I swear. Literally no one else in my family likes greasy pizza. They take out their napkins and start doing that blotting thing."

"What? But they're getting rid of what's easily the third best thing about it."

"That's what I tell them every time! Holy crap. I love you," she said before she could tell herself not to. She paused and cleared her throat, her usual demure composure returning. "That's not what I meant. I mean, I like you, but I didn't mean it like that. I mean I don't dislike you, but I also don't 'like you' like you, I just—"

"No, I get what you mean." For the first time in a while, he shot her the lopsided grin again.

Mercedes became even more flustered. There was something about that grin that she kept drawing her in. It was how he convinced her to join the glee club and how he was currently convincing her not to freak out over putting her foot in her mouth. Now that she thought about it, it was kind of how he convinced her to go to that party, too. Sure, she was here for Noah, but she wouldn't have even entertained the idea had he not convinced her to think about it that day at lunch. "I'm just going to shut up and eat my pizza now."

They both shut up and ate their pizza, grease and all until they were stuffed. After staring at the skyline in silence for another period of time, Sam spoke up.

"Wanna play 20 Questions?"

"Sure. You ask first."

"Okay. What's your favorite color?"

She frowned a little at him. "I don't think that's— Tyrian purple. It's like a really dark magenta color."

He nodded. "Favorite food?"

"Other than this pizza?" They laughed. "Probably," she thought for a moment, "My grandmother's gumbo. It's so good and I can never make it like she does, no matter how hard I try. You'll taste it soon enough."

"After that Welcome Day Feast, I don't think I could taste any of your grandma's cooking soon enough. Next question."

"You can make it deeper than my favorite food, you know? You're going to be living with me for at least the next five and a half months. If you're going to play the game, play it right and cut out the lightweight questions."

He scoffed and smiled. "Oh, ok then. No lightweight questions? Hm." He looked at her. "Ok. You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but what's up with your dad?"

Mercedes almost choked on the air around her. When she told him to skip over the lightweights, she didn't know he would be diving into the deep end. "Care to elaborate?"

"On my first day here, Maiya mentioned that she'd never met him and you started to say something but she cut you off."

"Oh, that. Yeah." She looked out at the water and blew out a breath. "I don't really talk about my dad to anyone because he has chosen himself over his family one too many times for me."

"Care to elaborate?"

Not really. Her eyes drifted over to his to find them staring at her, and they seemed to convey a genuine concern. It was like he really cared and wanted to know. "My dad has been in and out of my life since I was 6. Emphasis on out. The last straw for me was him going to prison and leaving us behind. Me, my brother, and my sister."

"And your mom?" Sam asked.

She turned her eyes back towards the water, silent.

"Is that where he's at now? Your dad?"

She nodded.

"What is he in for, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Assault. First-degree."

"Is that—"

"A felony, yeah," She responded tiredly. "He got 10 years and he's served just over six of them."

Sam furrowed his brows. "Six? But Maiya's seven."

"There's no but there. Both things are true."

Sam laid back on the blanket. "Damn. So Maiya hasn't seen him since before she was one?"

"Yeah. And no matter how much I always tell her that our dad isn't someone that she wants to willingly bring into her life, it goes in one ear and out the other. And, god, it's like such a slap in the face, you know?" Mercedes turned to face him with her legs crossed. "He put me through all of this crap and I'm trying to tell her without letting her know what actually went down and she is just so convinced that he can be this good person and that he can change. All because he sends us cards on our birthdays."

"And you don't believe he can change?"

"Are you kidding me? Everything he's ever done for me has been a metaphorical birthday card. She doesn't know what life was like with him and how it feels to watch him slip away and disregard everything that went into the life of our family." Mercedes didn't want to talk about her mom, but she found herself compelled to open up to Sam in a way she never had with anyone. "He and my mom met when they were kids, 14 and 15. They fell in love hard and fast. My dad wasn't a troublemaker, but he found himself in a lot of troubling situations and my mom was from this really well-off family that lived a few hours away from here. My mom's parents didn't like her being with him, but she didn't care. She never cared. Not even when she got pregnant at 18 and her parents told her to choose between staying with my dad and being cut off or leaving my dad and giving her baby the life that she had. She chose my dad without so much as a second thought."

Sam didn't say anything. He was intrigued by what she was saying, but she also seemed to need this. He didn't take Mercedes as someone who let go often. He figured that if she was going to let off some steam with someone, he could be that person for her. I want to be that person for her.

"So she left everything for him. Her friends, her home, her family, everything. She had two sisters and she never saw them again before she died. She never saw her parents again, She never even went back to her hometown. She came here and made a life with my dad. But by the time I got here, my dad had been to jail twice. And he was in the house, but he wasn't there. But my mom didn't care, you know? She was so sure that she could help him, so sure that he could change."

"Just like Maiya."

"Just like Maiya. She thought he just needed support and she got our entire family to rally around him to help, but nothing." Mercedes kept talking, not caring that she was completely spilling her guts to this boy she had just met. "Then, she got pregnant with Amaiya and somewhere along the way, or maybe before, I don't know. She got sick. We—" she took a breath. "It was lung cancer but we wouldn't figure that out until it was too late and too advanced. She spent months pregnant being poked and prodded by doctors who were trying to figure out what was happening. She died when my sister was three months old."

Sam sat up at this. "I didn't know that." He knew that her mom had died, but he had no idea how or when.

Despite the sad topic, she smiled a little. "I mean, it's not exactly conversation for the dinner table. Anyway, whenever my mom passed, my dad just kept easing further and further away from us. He was there even less than he was before. He would go out and stay out all night, not coming back until my brother and I were eating our cereal before school the next morning. One night, he went out and didn't come back. Then my granddad gets a call saying that he went to a bar, got way too drunk, and ended up punching out a plainclothes police officer."

"Holy-"

"Yeah," she said softly. "He was stacked with charges. Some didn't stick, some did. He also had priors, so the judge was a little more eager to put him away. Initially, he got twice the time he has now but some of the charges were dismissed, so he got it knocked to 10. A tragedy in three acts." She joked.

"I'm really sorry, Cedes." Sam didn't know what to say other than that. While he knew not to say it, he couldn't help but notice how similar their stories were. A mom who tried her best to save her family and a dad who didn't seem to care.

"Now try telling a seven-year-old that. I'm supposed to protect her and watch out for her. But how can I do that when she won't even believe the things that I'm saying?"

"Do you want to go next?" Sam asked.

"What?"

He straightened his posture. "Go ahead and ask me a question. Anything you can think of."

She raised her brow. "Are you sure? Like me, my questions are heavy hitters."

"I would expect nothing less." He looked at her expectantly. "Come on, we don't have all night," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Mercedes laughed. "Okay, then. Let's see…"

Sam smiled at hearing her laugh and awaited his question.

"What's the deal with your mom? Like, I know— or I presumed— that she's in rehab for something. But what's the story behind it?"

He nodded. "Not bad. My mom's been addicted to some form of drugs since before I was born. It started out as just cigarettes and alcohol, but after I got here it got progressively worse. From what I know, she's tried some of everything. Hell, I've seen her try some of everything. But heroin is the one thing she's never been able to let go of. That's what she's in rehab for now." He looked back at her.

"So, what's your story?"

"I've been in and out of foster care my whole life. Emphasis on in."

"Are you gonna keep stealing my words from me all night?" She smirked at him.

He chuckled. "Why not when you put things so well? So, the first time was when I was four up until I was six. Then when I was 10 up until I was 13. And I guess… now at 16. Granted, this isn't exactly foster care. It's actually not by a longshot, but I'm not with her." He nodded, seeming to confirm it for himself more than Mercedes. "Anytime I'm not with her, things just kind of feel," he searched for the word, only to have her find it for him.

"Indistinguishable?"

He nodded. "I know it may not make much sense, but—"

"No believe me, as someone who lost both their parents, arguably at once, I know that the days can blend into one another more than they should. Our parents are our anchors. Losing that takes a toll on you. Or, it did on me at least."

"Yeah, no." Sam found himself slightly in awe. "I've never heard it put quite so… accurately." They locked eyes and he felt that feeling again, the one he knew not to act on. It was becoming harder and harder to resist. "This time around, though, we don't know what's going to happen or how long I'm going to be here. You know I didn't even know she was using again? I thought she was clean. She told me she was clean. But she OD'd and left me to find her when I got home from school that day. What's worse is she only needed to stay clean for 6 more weeks and we would've had a shot at getting my siblings back."

"You have siblings? I didn't know that."

He nodded. "Stevie and Stacy. They're 10 now, but I haven't seen them in three years. And before you ask, it's a much longer story than we have time for." She was nice and all, but that wasn't something you talked about with someone you'd just met a few weeks ago, no matter how long you were staying with them.

"Your dad?"

"My mom's high school sweethearts. Much like your parents, young kids who fell in love. Except my dad introduced my mom to drugs and by the time she had me, she was already in the process of getting hooked and he didn't want her anymore, so he left."

"So, what about Stevie and Stacy's dad? Where's he?"

Sam gave a humorless chuckle. "It's the same guy."

Mercedes frowned.

"My mom got me back the first time because she had been spending time with him and he was helping her out, so the judge felt safer letting me go back. My mom and I had been talking about me finally meeting my dad, which was supposed to happen the day I came home. But coincidentally, the day I came home was the day he decided to go and find a new one. He didn't want to meet me, he didn't want to know me, nothing. Few months later, the twins arrived."

Mercedes shook her head in disbelief. She thought she had it rough. She couldn't do anything but offer him a sad smile. "If you ever want to talk about any of that, I'm here for you. Anytime."

"Thanks. Also, if you ever want to talk to me about anything, like how much you hate that dress Santana put you in, I'm here for you, too." He cheesed.

She grimaced. "That obvious, huh?"

"Don't get me wrong, you look great, but you also look really uncomfortable."

"Let's just say that this dress fits me in all the right places, which, for anyone who really knows me, is a clear indicator that I didn't pick it out myself. Sexy is not my vibe." She laughed a little.

"But you looked good. So maybe it's a little more your vibe than you think."

"Can I ask you another question? Since we are cool or whatever, I feel like you'll tell me the truth, but we're not so close that you'll want to sugarcoat your answer so that you don't hurt my feelings."

He nodded. "Shoot."

She took a deep breath before blurting out her question, "Is there something wrong with me?"

Sam frowned now, confused.

"No one likes me. Like, likes me likes me. And don't get it twisted, I'm not one of those girls that needs a guy to like me for me to feel good about myself. I'm a true independent woman, I learned from Destiny's Child. But it's so isolating being the only one of your friends who doesn't have someone. Imagine all your friends going on double dates with one another and you're the third, fifth, seventh, even ninth wheel. That shit sucks."

"Is this about Noah?"

"He's one of the only guys that's ever seriously shown interest in me. And he couldn't be bothered to find me at a party. It makes me wonder, am I doing something wrong? Or am I not doing something enough? I get that I'm not the most outgoing person, but still. Am I not attractive or something—"

"Oh, god no." Sam shook his head vigorously, pausing when she looked up at him. Tone it down, Sam. "You're the opposite of not attractive. Honestly. And I can't tell you why there aren't a billion guys knocking down your door for a date right now. Because I know I-" he stopped himself from going any further. "Screw Noah. And screw any guy who thinks that you aren't enough or aren't doing something enough. But especially screw Noah." The corner of his mouth ticked upward.

She let out a boisterous laugh. "What's so bad about Noah?"

"I don't know. I don't like him and he's crazy for standing you up tonight, so let's just say screw him."

They laughed together before Sam spoke again.

"In all seriousness, though, you're a lot more outgoing than I thought you would've been."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know because everybody always talks about how much of a shut-in you are. Plus, Ms. Abby told me that it would take a while for you to warm up to me. But you've got an entire entourage of friends, everybody at the bakery loves you, and you've certainly warmed up to me pretty fast." He shrugged. "I thought you'd stay in your room more often, I guess."

"Well, everyone in my crew has been friends since elementary school. It started with me, Tina, and Santana and it grew from there. Everyone at the bakery has watched me grow up, so they know me. As for you, I don't really know," she spoke softly as she looked at him. "Just before you got here, Grandmother told us to treat you like family and I was already going to do that, but you made it so easy. It's like you— okay, wait," she paused, putting her hand out in front of her. "Before I say anything further, I want to make it clear that I'm still pretty boozy-woozy here, so let's try not to take anything I say tonight too seriously."

He chuckled. "Okay."

"It's like you have this thing about you in your aura or something." She gestured toward him and the space around him. "You're very compelling. It's almost like I'm drawn to you. I can't really explain it."

"I haven't been drinking or anything so I don't have that same pass, but I will say that I know what you mean."

"Really?" She scooted closer to him, excited that she wasn't hallucinating or something.

"Yeah, I feel the same way. It's like there's something about you that I know on a deeper level."

"Uh-huh?"

"It's like," he moved to sit closer to her, directly in front of her, "it's like you're pulling me in. And I feel something. And I think that I…"

"Yeah?" She asked, melting his resolve away with her gaze.

"Cedes, I think that I might—"

Out of nowhere, they heard someone in the distance, "Did you see the new episode of This is Us this week?"

And the person who was with them, "Yes! I cried, of course."

Mercedes whipped her head around. She couldn't see them, but she could hear them, and they were closing in. "Quick, grab our stuff." She started scrambling, fitting what she could in her bag.

"Where are they coming from?" Sam whispered in a panic.

"I don't know, that's why we're grabbing our stuff. Hurry!"

A string of expletives flew from Sam's mouth as they raced to remove any trace of their night out. He couldn't get caught. Not when he just got here. He started running over to the fence, to wait for her to jump first.

She stopped him. "We can't jump the fence, they might be on the other side. Into the trees!" Mercedes took Sam by the wrist, dragging him into the nearby forest.

How in the hell is she so strong?

In the trees, they stood right next to each other, his arm around her waist, pulling her into him so that they wouldn't further disturb the foliage surrounding them. They looked up at one another for a brief second, faces inches away from one another, before awkwardly looking down at the ground. As the two speakers got closer and closer, Mercedes shut her eyes tight, hoping that she hadn't led Sam directly into a situation that would land him back in foster care.

After what seemed like forever, they saw the two people pass by them on the shore. They waited there for what felt like forever until they were out of earshot. When the teens emerged from the trees, Sam looked at Mercedes, panting.

"I thought you said no one came around here at night?"

"Up until today, I didn't know they did. We need to go. Now."

"Five steps ahead of you." He raced over to the portion of the fence they came over, leaving her behind.

"Hey, wait!" She laughed, running to catch up with him. "How are you so fast? Jesus!"

"I'm a quarterback, baby." He winked at her before jumping the fence.

"And you're telling me there's nothing from that conversation worth talking about?" Santana asked, exasperated.

"Nothing." Mercedes shrugged.

"Oh, my god." Santana started massaging her temples. "Tina, please, she's going to give me an ulcer."

Tina laughed as she patted Santana on the back. "Okay, Cedes. I think what Tana is saying is that there are quite a few moments from that night that are worth talking about between you and Sam."

"Okay, well, I don't agree."

"Let me put it this way. Do you think that there's any remote possibility that Sam might like you?"

"No," she replied simply.

"Okay, let me put it this way. Do you think that there's any remote possibility that you might like Sam?"

Mercedes immediately feigned disbelief, tucking her chin into her chest. "Um, no. We were just having a conversation. We were talking about family history and traumatic childhood events and other stuff. I don't like him. He just was really easy to talk to."

"About things you don't even talk to us about like that?"

"Yes. We both stated that there was something about the other person that felt comfortable and we were having a good time and I was drunk! So it doesn't even matter."

Tina tilted her head. "Were you though? You didn't have that much to drink."

"I was. And it was a nice evening, but that is all. He doesn't like me and I don't like him." She shook her head, trying to convince herself that what she was slowly realizing wasn't true. "He was just really nice and he was there. And it was nice to have someone who was there. And wanted to listen," her voice softened, "and wanted to understand me, and was willing to reciprocate that with compassion and beautiful green eyes and a charming smile." Slowly, her eyes widened. "Holy shit. I like Sam?"

Santana let out a satisfied groan. "Oh, thank God. It was exhausting watching you two just fumble around each other like that? Actually tiring."

"Tana, can you have a little sympathy for her?"

In her spot in the room, Mercedes was freaking out. Her hands started covering her mouth and moved all around her face in anguish as she whined, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," and didn't stop.

Tina went to comfort her. "Shh, it's okay."

With Mercedes still having her moment, someone opened the door. "Hey, Cedes, sorry for not knocking but um," Sam scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "we need you out here."

Oop! Do y'all think Sam heard any of their conversation? Seems like Sam and Mercedes are really starting to get to know one another more. Do you think much will change now that Mercedes knows that she likes him? So many questions! Can't wait to read your thoughts!