Mercedes huffed tiredly as she looked at the clothes she was going to wear to dinner tonight. It was her birthday and in her grandmother's true fashion, there was an elaborate homemade dinner planned for her and all of her friends. She had hoped her grandma would've gotten the message when she chose not to have any birthday weekend plans, but she guessed not. Abeline was still inviting everyone as if nothing had changed. Now, looking at her clothes, Mercedes didn't even want to wear them anymore. She decided to just go in the clothes she was already wearing. It was a T-shirt and jeans and would probably piss her Grandmother off, but Mercedes was too bummed out to care.

Birthdays since her mom died were always hit or miss and there had been a few of them that Mercedes could never bring herself to enjoy. She was adding 17 to that list. This birthday hit her especially hard. She had been seriously missing her mom lately and everything with Sam intensified that. But that wasn't what was weighing on her most. There were things that she made up her mind not to talk about a long time ago. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Wrong. Today, on her 17th birthday, Mercedes learned that you truly can't run from something forever. Early that morning, she received news that proved that.

Her days of reckoning were upon her.

She threw the clothes, just cleaned and ironed meticulously by her Grandmother, on her closet floor. Then, she plopped on her bed and sent out a message to the group chat she shared with her friends.

No dinner tonight. Stove is on the fritz. Maybe some other time.

She knew they'd have questions, but she was just going to have to field them. She also knew that Sam, the newest addition to the group and their chat, would know that was a lie. She didn't have to worry about him saying anything, though. She figured he could care less about her birthday dinner and was just happy that there would be less awkward tension between him, her, and Quinn. That was something Mercedes was also thankful for.

As the replies came in, Mercedes' let out a sigh of relief. No one was asking questions yet, but Santana did send her a message outside of the chat.

What's really going on?

Mercedes didn't respond. She just wanted to get the day over with and focus on anything other than what she had going on right now.

As Sam was setting the table, there was a knock at the front door. He went to get it but Mercedes got to it first.

As for her mood when she opened the door, surprise didn't even begin to cover it. And not the pleasant kind. "Noah."

He smiled. "Well, don't sound too excited to see me, birthday girl." He held out a wrapped box for her. "I wanted to wait until tonight to give it to you."

Mercedes took it with a half-smile. She didn't even know he was going to be here. As she let him in, her shortcoming finally occurred to her: Noah wasn't in her friends' group chat and she didn't account for her Grandmother inviting him secretly. As far as he knew, dinner was still on. "I didn't know you were coming," she said, trying to sound surprised as he kissed her on the cheek.

"Are you kidding? It's my girlfriend's birthday dinner. You wouldn't let me take you out, so of course I was going to be here. Wouldn't miss it."

Oh, yeah. We're a couple now. Another half-smile. On their date a week ago, he asked her to be his girlfriend and she said yes. It wasn't like they were moving too fast or anything; they'd already come pretty close to this before. But if she was being honest, whenever she wasn't with him, she kind of forgot.

Yet another shortcoming of hers.

"Don't you want to open it?"

"Yeah, sure." Mercedes unwrapped the box and opened it to see a small necklace with her birthstone in the center. "Oh, Noah. You shouldn't have."

"Nonsense." He waved her off. "You were talking about getting one, so I figured why not? Here, let me put it on you."

As she turned around, Sam caught her eye. He was wearing a bit of a scowl and setting out an extra plate and utensils. He must not have known Noah was making an appearance either.

Then, with Noah's hands on the back of her neck and Sam glancing up at them, Mercedes became suddenly aware of her heartbeat and her chest's rise and fall as she breathed.

Sam looked away without making eye contact with either of them. If he had known Noah was coming, he would've found something, anything to keep him from being here. He found it almost enraging that he and Mercedes both had their first dates on the same day and while Mercedes and Noah were on the up and up, he and Quinn were at a standstill. He thought the date went great, but apparently, she didn't feel the same. Still, she told him afterward that she had a good time and wanted to do it again, so that was better than nothing.

At dinner, the only ones aware of the tension between the teens were the teens themselves. Other than that, it was business as usual.

"So, Sunshine," Abeline called out to her granddaughter. "How was your birthday today? Anything special happen?"

Mercedes shook her head. "Not really. Same old, same old."

"Oh, nonsense. Surely something happened. What about school? Nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Yeah, like did anyone sing you 'Happy Birthday'?" Amaiya peeped up from her bowl of gumbo. "Or did you wear one of those 'birthday girl' ribbons so that other people would give you money? Or did you get a—"

"No, Maiya. School was the same as it always is. Boring. Nothing to talk about." She continued pretending to eat the food her grandma cooked.

Abeline sighed at her granddaughter. Clearly, she was in a mood. Given the news she received today, it made sense, but she had hoped she would be feeling better by dinnertime. "Well, what about you two boys?" She asked the other teenagers. "Anything exciting happening at school? You two must have a lot of fun on the football team together. How's that going?"

Noah smiled. "Yes, ma'am. It's been great. Especially since Sam came on as quarterback. We haven't lost a game yet."

Sam looked up and nodded. "Yeah," he said flatly. "What he said."

Abeline frowned too lightly for anyone at the table to catch. Clearly, both of her teens were in a mood today. "That's so good to hear. It's really nice knowing that you're making a name for yourself out there, Sam. And it's great to have you back in the house, Mr. Jackson." She shot Noah a smile. "I don't have to worry about who my Sunshine is hanging around with knowing that you have her back."

Coincidentally, Sam and Noah both looked at each other.

Noah wasn't Sam's biggest fan, but he didn't hate him. Not even close. He thought that he was going to ruin their football team, but with the team winning every single game since he joined, Sam was steadily changing his mind.

Sam hated Noah. He wanted to punch his face in every time he saw him. He hadn't liked Noah since he had proved himself to be the best player for runningback and Coach Beiste refused to let him onto the team for the sake of Noah's feelings. Sure, everything worked out because Sam ended up making quarterback, but that runningback spot should've been his. He'd earned it fair and square. First, Noah took the runningback spot from him, then, he took the one thing he really wanted. Mercedes. Seeing them together lit a fire inside him, and not the warm and fuzzy kind. No. That fire was the raging, catastrophic kind. The one that left nothing but ashes in its wake. The more Sam got to know Noah, the more he hated him. He was a rich son of a senator who won everyone over with his charm and good looks. But underneath, Sam had yet to find anything of substance. He couldn't understand what Mercedes even saw in him, but it must've been something serious because here he was, at his dinner table.

"Noah's definitely a guy that people like to be around. Big personality," said Sam. A big, stupid, meaningless personality that meant nothing ever.

Sometime later, Mercedes, who had been tuning out that conversation and everything that came after it, looked up when she heard her name. "What was that?"

"I said that you should sing a solo at your sectionals. You would totally win," Amaiya repeated. "But you don't have the confidence. Or you're just scared." She didn't say it in a teasing way, but that was how Mercedes took it.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not about being 'scared', Amaiya. There's a whole audition process involved in getting a competition solo. I don't have the time or the energy to do all of that," she said, her tone a mix of bored and just plain annoyed.

Abeline noticed this. "What's going on with you, Sunshine? You've barely touched your food and I know it's your favorite."

Sam looked at Mercedes. He, too, had noticed that she had barely eaten anything. He also knew that her grandmother's gumbo was her favorite, she'd told him that night at the lake.

"I'm fine, Grandmother. The food is great. I'm just not that hungry."

"Since when? You practically came out of your mama's womb with a knife and fork handy. Oh, I remember your daddy couldn't get you to stop chewing his pork rinds." She laughed. "Your mama was so worried that you were going to choke, but you just crunched and crunched your life away."

Most of the table laughed, but at the mention of her parents, Mercedes' mood only continued to sour. "Actually, if it's okay with you, I'm going to go to bed early."

"But we haven't even had cake yet," Amaiya whined.

"Sunshine," Abeline was starting to worry, "it's your birthday. I understand you may be upset because your friends weren't able to make it, but we can still celebrate together. All five of us."

Mercedes looked uninterested and unimpressed.

"Are you sure you're okay, babe?" Noah asked her. "You've been a little down all day today."

"I'm fine, Noah."

Abeline started to rise from her seat. "If you all will excuse us, I think we may need to talk in private."

Mercedes rubbed her face with her hands. "I don't want to talk at all, Grandmother. I'm just tired and I want to go to bed." She looked up at her, pleading with her eyes.

Abeline sighed. "Okay, go on. Good night. I love you. Happy B-"

Mercedes disappeared from the room.

"Can we still eat cake?" Amaiya asked.

Sam stared after Mercedes, concerned. Was what Noah said really true? Had she been down all day? He kicked himself for not noticing. Please, who was he kidding? He'd noticed. But he couldn't bring himself to ask. He couldn't bring himself to get any closer to her or develop any more of a connection with her. It hurt too much.

He would just have to eat his cake and pretend not to care.

That next morning, Sam woke up late. Seriously late. 30 minutes late. He wondered how. Usually, he would wake up when Mercedes did then drift into a light sleep for another 15 minutes. Somehow, he missed her this morning. As he was getting up and getting ready, he noticed that he hadn't missed her, she hadn't gotten up. He didn't want to say anything. This wasn't a part of protecting himself from getting hurt by her. But after last night, he wanted to make sure she was okay. He woke up too late for breakfast at the Jones table, but he did manage to find Abeline on his way out.

"Morning, Ms. Abby."

"Mr. Evans." She smiled. "Glad to see you're finally down. I was starting to get worried."

"Yeah, I overslept. Actually, I usually use Mercedes as my alarm clock, but she hasn't gotten up yet. Is, um," he still contemplated whether or not he should ask, "is everything okay with her? She was pretty bummed yesterday. I mean, she's usually pretty withdrawn, but something seemed different. Especially since it was her birthday."

Abeline asked Sam to follow her to her office. Once there, she told him to close the door behind him and have a seat. "It can be hard to get my girls to celebrate sometimes. With their mama and daddy gone, even good days are pretty tough on them. My Moonshine is pretty wired all the time, so it's usually not hard to get her into a good mood. My Sunshine on the other hand, well, she's been through a lot. Some would say more than her brother and sister." She folded her lips inward. "Since she lost her mama, Mercedes has always struggled to get to a good place. Most days, she appears to be handling things quite alright. But there are some days where she can't," she searched for the words, "muster up the energy. She doesn't eat, she probably doesn't sleep, and nothing can bring her out of it but staying in bed all day."

Sam listened attentively. He didn't know this about Mercedes. He figured she was generally sad over losing her mom, but he didn't think it was as serious as her grandmother was making it out to be. Seeing Ms. Abby get so somber, he realized Mercedes was struggling a lot more than she let on. He knew the feeling.

"It doesn't happen often, just a few times a year, but it does happen. So she's going to take the day off today just to rest and recuperate."

"Is she… is she okay?"

"Not right now. But she will be."

Sam looked down at his feet. He felt so guilty all of a sudden. If he had known that Mercedes was dealing with this, he never would've been so cold to her. "Thanks for telling me, Ms. Abby."

They left her office and Sam decided to catch the bus to school instead riding with Quinn. While on the bus, he sent her a text.

Maybe we should cool things for a while? Just until I figure out what's going on with my mom. No use in getting attached if I can't stay, right?

He didn't want to use his mom as a scapegoat, but he also knew that Mercedes would kill him if he told Quinn it was because of her. Sam knew Mercedes needed her friends and she deserved to have them in peace without him trying to pursue one of them.

Around 1 that day, Mercedes hadn't left her room to do anything but use the bathroom. She was thankful for her friends. They hadn't sent her any messages all day. While other people would've found that offensive, she didn't. When Mercedes was like this, she didn't want anyone saying anything to her. Not even if it was to tell her that they hope she feels better. Her friends understood that. Since last night, she'd spent her time alternating between sleeping, crying, and staring at her ceiling trying to stop her racing mind. Everything was so screwed up and it was all her fault. To make matters worse, she didn't have anyone to turn to. But who would sit and take pity on her when she did this to herself?

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Not now, Grandmother."

"It's not her. It's me."

Mercedes sat up with a confused frown, wiping her tears from her swollen eyes. "Sam?"

"Ms. Abby told me about… your situation. How you're sad because you miss your mom. I thought I'd just come and check on you."

She sniffed. "Why would you do that? I thought you were still upset with me?"

"Maybe, but I know what it's like to miss a parent, especially a mom. And I know when I was moving from foster home to foster home, I isolated myself from everyone, but the last thing I wanted was to be alone. Really, I wanted someone to talk to who could help make it okay. Being alone was just easier."

Hearing that made Mercedes start to cry again. She steadied her voice and said, "Can you just go away, please?"

"See, I would, but I've got this piping hot extra-large double pepperoni pizza in my hand. The one from your favorite pizzeria. I even ordered it with extra cheese and extra grease. We're not gonna talk about the look the cashier gave me when I said that last part." He chuckled. "Your grandmother also said that you didn't eat when things got like this, but I thought that maybe it never occurred to her that all you needed was something to really clog your arteries, you know?" He joked with her. "Grease always gets my stomach to growling."

No response.

"Also, it would be really great if you could let me in, considering the fact that I snuck in through the side door so that Ms. Abby wouldn't know I was ditching school right now."

Still nothing.

He sighed and tried a different approach, his voice growing softer, "I just want to know that you're okay. I can't take away the pain of losing your mom," God knows he would if he could, "but I've been there before in a way. So I can make it hurt just a little less. How about this? I'll sit out in the hallway. You open the door when you're ready and I'll be here. Who cares if your grandma finds me, right?" He cared. He really hoped he wouldn't regret saying that later. He sat on the ground, making sure to grunt audibly so that she would hear him.

Mercedes was trying to put the brakes on her emotional rollercoaster. She couldn't understand why he cared so much and the way he was being so nice to her somehow made her feel even worse.

On the other side of her door, Sam stared up at the pictures hanging from the walls. "You know, I've always wondered what I'd look like with a nose ring. Yours is nice. I don't really think I could pull it off. I feel like I'd look like a member of some 90s boy band. But not one of the cool ones like JC Chasez or Nick Carter. I'd be the one weird guy. Like the one from NSYNC that everybody kind of hated but he was a part of the group so nobody really said anything? With the braids? That guy."

In bed, Mercedes pulled her covers over her head.

"Or Justin Timberlake. Because I feel like a nose ring would make me look like a douchebag and I feel like JT is a huge douchebag. Not enough people hate him, you know? Especially not after what he did to Janet Jackson at that SuperBowl halftime show. God," he scoffed, "just douchey. There are plenty of people I wouldn't have cared about him doing that to, but Dunk? I couldn't bring myself to like him once I found out about that. Hey, speaking of the Jacksons, who's your favorite? Besides Michael and Janet, of course. And besides La Toya, too. That's too easy. I think mine is Jackie. His career after the group may be practically nonexistent, but have you hear-"

He fell back as the door opened behind him. He looked up. "You opened it," he said with a surprised smile.

Mercedes began heading back to her bed. "You were talking my ear off. Close the door behind you."

Sam brought himself and the pie into the room and did as told. He was looking for a place to sit when he saw the tissues in a trashcan beside her bed and her bloodshot eyes. "You've been crying?"

On her bed, Mercedes pulled her knees up to her chest. "Why do you sound so surprised? Didn't my grandmother tell you I was depressed?" She gestured toward an empty spot on her bed, silently asking him why he hadn't sat down already.

He took a seat. "She kind of just made it sound like you were really tired. Upset, too. But depressed? Not so much." Still, he knew the feeling. "You know, I remember being taken away from my mom. Everything felt so—"

"This isn't because of my mom."

"Oh. But Ms. Abby said—"

"Usually, it is, yeah. Whatever she told you, she probably wasn't wrong. But today is different."

He sat the pizza to the side and faced her. "What is it today?"

She started to tell him but caught herself. No one can know. "Why do you want to know? This isn't something you have experience with, trust me. So why would you care?"

"It's like you said the last time we talked. What's happening between us doesn't change the fact that we're still here for one another. We're still family. I don't like knowing that my family's in pain and doing nothing about it."

Mercedes looked away, praying for the tears to retreat before they even came.

It may have seemed like a selfish question, but Sam had to ask it anyway. "Does it have anything to do with me?"

She shook her head. "No. I mean, not directly. No offense, but I have bigger things than you going on right now."

"I haven't heard about any of them, though."

"You're not special, Sam. No one has. And for good reason. If anyone knew what I was dealing with? The things that I thought to myself on a daily basis? They would," she couldn't even bring herself to finish the sentence.

Sam watched the quiet light turn into a completely different person right before his eyes. He knew she was upset, but he wasn't letting her get away that easily. "I don't have the best track record with birthdays either, fun fact. My 5th birthday is the first I really remember and I was in foster care, so not off to a great start. On my 8th birthday, I broke my arm at a Chuck E. Cheese. True story. It was tragic."

Mercedes sat silent, regretting letting him in her room. If she had known he was still going to talk her ear off, she would've let him do so from the other side of the door.

"And then there's my thirteenth birthday, which you know about. I never told you this, but when Shelly told me I was going home without my brother and sister, I had this huge outburst. I got so angry. I yelled at her, said some pretty rude things, I even think I threw my ice cream on the ground. Long story short, I reacted horribly."

As Sam talked, he realized he was doing the same thing he did at the lake: talking because Mercedes was easy to talk to. And if she wasn't listening, she sure was doing a hell of a good job pretending to. "Ever since then, I've had these wicked anger issues. I mean, just yesterday, and I hope it's okay to say this, but when I saw Noah putting that necklace around your neck? Let's just say that with the things I wanted to do to him at that moment, neither of us would've been able to play football afterward."

"Why are you telling me this?" She was past annoyed. Still, she couldn't bring herself to kick him out.

"Because. After my 13th, I was so angry all the time. I kept Shelly at arm's length for almost an entire year after, but she didn't even seem phased by it. When I went back with my mom, she still looked out for me. Her job didn't have to go beyond making sure I had food in my stomach and clothes on my back, but she never gave up on me. If she had, I wouldn't be here now, I wouldn't have had a second chance at football," he cleared his throat, "and I never would've met you. Cedes, we've all done, said, and thought things we aren't proud of. But the people who are really there for us don't see us any differently because of it. They see us with all of our flaws and imperfections and they continue to be there for us. You don't have to hide those parts of who you are out of fear of how people will see you. Don't ask me how I know, I couldn't tell you." He smirked a little. "But it's true." He rose from her bed. "I'm going to head back to school. With no ride, I have to take the bus and if I'm late for practice, Coach Beiste makes us run laps. Enjoy your pizza."

As he reached the door, Mercedes made a decision. Whether she knew why he cared or not, he did. Wasn't that was all that mattered? "My dad, he sent me a letter for my birthday."

Sam turned, taking his hand off the doorknob. "I thought you two weren't on speaking terms."

"We're not. He's been calling for weeks, but I just didn't accept the charges or didn't answer at all. Then, he sent me my annual birthday card. I threw it away, but Grandmother went in right after me and got it from the trash." She laughed to herself. "She's always onto me, that woman. She told me to open it and that there was a letter in the card."

"What did it say?" Sam asked as he sat back down on the bed.

"'I'll be home for Christmas!'" She reached beside her for a crumbled piece of paper, handing it to him. "He's getting out."

Sam didn't expect to hear this. "Last you told me, he still had four years left."

"Apparently, my dad's prosecution was caught doing some not-so-great stuff and falsifying evidence during the same time as his case. It got covered up for a while, but what's done in the dark. The long and short of it is that his trial was invalidated and a judge knocked a few years off of his sentence. Between that and good behavior, he'll be out on parole a month from tomorrow."

Sam read the letter all the way through.

"I already told you everything you need to know," she said before he was finished. "You don't have to read it."

He continued reading. If he was going to be there for her, it was important for him to know everything she would let him. When he finished reading the letter he frowned and said, "He wants to try. He wants another shot at being your dad again. Why would this upset you? If my dad sent me a letter like this after he left when I was 6, I would've jumped for joy."

"Because he doesn't mean it."

"Why wouldn't he mean it? This seems really legit."

"He doesn't want another shot at being my dad. I know he doesn't."

"How do you know, though?"

The irritation seeped into her voice, "I just know, Sam."

"But you'll never know if you don't at least give him the chance to—"

She yelled at him, "I don't need to give him a chance because he's a fucking liar!" She took the letter and crumbled it up again, throwing it to the floor. "Trust me, the words may seem really nice; they're even better when they go straight to your ears instead of your eyes, but he doesn't care about anyone but himself. Not me, not my sister, not my brother. My dad is the biggest piece of shit I've ever known and he's never told me the truth a day in his life. That's how I know."

Sam sat in front of her, slightly disheartened after her outburst. He knew she had her issues with her dad; she'd told him about them at the lake that night. But even then, when she was visibly upset about it, it didn't seem as bad as this. He had never seen her this way and now, he was officially worried for her.

She had pulled her knees back up to her chest, mainly to conceal her face.

This felt so weird for Sam. Had anyone else yelled at him, he certainly would've yelled back. But not Mercedes. Hell, he couldn't bring himself to even get upset with her at that point. He called out to her softly, "Cedes." He reached out to touch her shoulder and felt something inside him sink as she began sobbing quietly. "Cedes, what's really going on?"

Don't do it, Cedes. As Mercedes cried into her own lap, she knew she couldn't tell him the truth. This wasn't the decision she had made all those years ago. Plus, it was Sam, which meant that saying something would be even worse than if he were anyone else. Once she said something to Sam, there was no going back and their relationship would be taken to yet another new level. She couldn't afford that. He couldn't afford that. He's going to want to look after you and that can't happen. Not if you want him to stay. Don't do it. Don't make this about you.

Don't. Let. Him. In.

She regained control of her breathing and lifted her head, wiping her tears away roughly. Say it's nothing and tell him to go. You have to. It's your only choice. She started to say just that. It was simple: She had sworn herself to secrecy for good reason and to go against that would open up a can of worms she wasn't ready for. But as she stared at Sam with blazing, puffy, cried-out eyes and he stared back at her with nothing but care and concern, it got much more complicated. He was the boy who had spent the last month hating her and yet, she couldn't see a glimmer of ill-will in his eyes. Then, for the slightest of moments, Mercedes wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was wrong. Maybe Sam and her mom were even more alike than she thought. Maybe there was someone who could see her with all her flaws and imperfections and still want to be there for her.

She took a calming breath, closed her eyes, and prepared to betray herself once she opened her mouth. Swear to secrecy be damned.

"My dad never wanted me and he blames me for my mom's death."

So, that happened. I want to say really quickly, thank you to those who congratulated me on my achievements! It means a lot. Now as for this chapter, I was going to work up to this slowly, but I wanted to go ahead and give it to y'all. You've seen some of Sam's childhood, but we're going to be taking a deeper look into Mercedes', too. I hope this chapter wasn't too sad or depressing (if so, you're in for a doozy next time!), but it will make things a lot more interesting going forward. Of course, be sure to let me know what you think!