Hey, everybody! First things first, another double update! Y'all seemed not to hate the last one (lol) and while this isn't as huge as the last couple of chapters, I've decided to give it the same treatment. The next one should be up tonight if I don't get sidetracked. If not, look for it tomorrow. Next, I'm sending all y'all love after your reviews on the last chapters! I love knowing that y'all are feeling the story so much. Lastly, I know (quite) a few of y'all have been wondering when Sam and Mercedes are going to take that next step. And I'm going to say that while it doesn't quite happen in this update, it is coming very soon! I just love an agonizingly slow burn. Until then, enjoy them being wildly in love and not doing anything about it! Thanks for reading and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts at the end!
"Afternoon, Mercedes," Quinn said glowingly to Mercedes on their way to lunch. "How's my best friend doing?"
Mercedes smirked and rolled her eyes as they linked arms. "Oh, no. What happened and what do you need?"
"Nothing happened, but I do have a proposal for you."
"There it is."
Quinn smiled. "Calm down. I'm not asking you to do anything illegal or anything. I was just thinking that maybe we should have a double date!"
She told her how ridiculous that sounded with the way she looked at her. "A double date?"
"Yes, and don't look at me like that. You and Noah and Sam and I. It's a good idea, no?"
No. Hell no. "You and Sam have barely been on any dates yourself. Why do you want me and Noah to tag along?"
"As you know, Sam and I are officially together and since we're doing so well, we're going on our third date this week. Sam's told me that he's had a lot going on, so I thought it might help him feel more comfortable to have someone there that he's more familiar with. Someone like you."
It had been close to three weeks since Mercedes told Sam about her dad and they had their "rewind." Sam had (begrudgingly) decided to take Mercedes' advice and try a relationship with Quinn for the umpteenth time. From what Mercedes knew, they had been doing well, so a third date made sense. But a date with her and Noah? That made the opposite of sense. "I don't know, Q. Since you just got back together, shouldn't your first few dates be about just you two?"
Quinn pulled her to the side of the hallway. "Look," she said quietly, "I really like Sam. Like, really like him. And I want things to work with him. So, if that means that I have to have another couple there for it to happen, then so be it. My dad got us these reservations at this new super swanky restaurant uptown on Thursday; you have to wait months just to get on the waiting list for that thing. I'll ask if he can add two to our table and we can all have a great time."
Even if Mercedes wanted to say yes, there was still an issue. "But Sam and Noah have the state championship tomorrow. They've probably got practice until late Thursday."
"Nope. Coach Beiste is going to be working them like dogs all week and giving them Thursday off to recuperate before the game on Friday. We'll have all the time in the world."
"Quinn…"
"Just say yes! And I promise you, when we all go to winter formal together, this ask will seem small in hindsight. Then, it'll be, 'Thank you, Quinn, for arranging this double date for us with you and Sam. I had a wonderful time! My foster brother/uncle and I appreciate you so much. And congrats on your impending nuptials!'"
Mercedes gawked at that last part.
"Okay, so maybe the nuptials thing is a little much. But everything else is true. And the dress code is black tie optional, so you and Noah get to dress up, which we both know he loves! I swear you won't regret this."
She eyed her for another moment before finally giving in. "Okay."
Quinn began clapping and jumping for joy.
"But Q," Mercedes placed her hands on her arms, "I don't think you should get so attached to Sam. I'm glad that you like him and that you feel excited enough about him to give him all of these chances, but he may not even be here much longer. I mean, he's been here for about 4 months and his mom's only going to be in rehab for 2 more. When she gets out, he could be going back to God knows where and I don't want you becoming so invested in him that you forget that him being here is temporary."
"I know. But you know what? I almost don't even care. Sam's a really great guy and even if he is leaving, I just want to make the most of the time he's got left here. This relationship feels more real than any other I've ever been in. Which, as you know, is saying something for me. Usually, I don't see the point in getting stuck on one guy when there are so many out there, but Sam is different. Gosh," she facepalmed, "does that sound totally ridiculous and sappy?"
"No. I mean, yes, but a little sap is good for the soul, you know?" Mercedes was smiling, but inside, she was panicking. Something felt off and she couldn't figure out why. Quinn said that she was okay with Sam leaving, so everything was fine, right? There's no other reason for Quinn to manage her infatuation with Sam. She and Sam were officially just friends. They're done, right? And as long as Quinn understood that Sam's situation was temporary, there was nothing else to worry about. There was nothing else that could serve as a problem for their relationship.
Right?
That Thursday night, Mercedes and Sam were dressed to the nines for their double date.
Sam came downstairs into the bakery and smiled the second he saw Mercedes, who was leaning up against the kitchen counter on her phone. "Okay, so you look…"
She lifted her head. "Ostentatious?"
He frowned before saying, "Sorry, I don't speak SAT."
She laughed at him. "It means showy or snobbish."
"Oh. Well, in that case, no. I was going to say stunning."
She blushed. "Thanks. You look nice, too. Don't think I've ever seen you in a suit before."
"Yeah? Do I look like James Bond?" He executed his best Bond pose, sans gun of course.
"Okay, maybe that's pushing it," she said with a playful grimace.
"You sure? I could do another one. I could give you just straight-up 'male model'." He widened his stance and gently tugged at one of his cufflinks. "Or, and hear me out," he paused for dramatics, "Mission: Impossible. Just," he turned over to one of the metal countertops and began stretching, "give me a second to get my cable drop muscles warm."
"No, no, please don't." She put her hand out to stop him. "We make food there, did you forget? Also, I can't have you getting hurt. This night would be a lot less fun if you had to eat hospital food instead of fancy restaurant food."
"Maybe you're right." He commented on the new addition to her look, "So, you're wearing your glasses."
"Yeah, I don't know. I personally hate them. But I just thought that maybe they don't look as atrocious as I think. Thanks to you."
"They look really good. So does your dress."
She looked down at her floral tea-length dress. "It's by far one of the fanciest things I own. It's not too much?"
"Of course not. It's perfect. Very 'swanky'," he repeated Quinn's phrasing.
"Oh, God. That word has cursed me," she joked. "It just feels like I'm trying too hard. I'd be much more comfortable in some sweatpants. I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb around all those socialites. Did Quinn happen to tell you how hard it is to get a spot at that place? The regular crowd is definitely not the type of people I blend in with."
"Why do you always do that?" He asked her.
"Do what?"
"Downplay the way you look or the way your voice sounds or how people feel about you and insist that you're just so unfit to be around everyone else?"
"I don't do that."
"Yes, you do. In just the last few seconds, you gave yourself backhanded comments on your glasses, your dress, and your social status. And we weren't even talking about that last one."
She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. "I just feel out of place more often than not. It's not like I do it on purpose."
He sighed. "Do you feel out of place? Or do you think that no one wants you there, so you beat yourself up before they get the chance? I know for me, it's usually the second one." He watched as she averted her gaze and shifted her weight uncomfortably. He made his way over to her. "You are stunning, Mercedes. And you deserve to feel good about yourself. You should never be doubtful of that. I get that embracing it may be uncomfortable, but I'm telling you, nobody's looking at you and thinking 'she doesn't belong here'."
She folded her lips into a smile. "Thank you." She tucked her hair, freshly pressed for the occasion, behind her ear. "Noah and Quinn will probably be here soon. We should go to the lobby and wait for them."
He held his arm out for her. "Shall we?"
She giggled. "I'm not sure we're supposed to do that when we're going on a double date with other people."
"It'll be fine. Come on."
She looped her arm through his and just as they went into the lobby of the bakery, a sleek black Cadillac pulled into the parking lot.
"Holy…" Mercedes couldn't even find the words.
"Oh, yes!" Sam pumped his fist. "We're living a life of luxury tonight. Let's go!" He dragged her out of the building.
Noah stood outside of the SUV, holding the door open for her. "Good evening, beautiful." He kissed her on the cheek before helping her into the car.
Mercedes marveled at the interior setup. She knew Quinn was rich, but damn, she didn't even know you could get cars with backseats that face each other. She sat across from Noah and beside Sam, who voiced his amazement as he climbed into the cabin.
"Hello, everyone." Quinn began her hostess duties. "So glad y'all could make it. This is Max. Say hi, Max!"
The driver looked through the partition and waved with a polite, "Hi."
"Max can take us anywhere we need to go. He knows this city like the back of his hand. Our reservation doesn't start for a couple of hours, so I figured we could maybe take a trip to the park or something? Or, the botanical gardens got a winter wonderland makeover. There's also a new art exhibit uptown. What do you guys think?"
"I don't know," Sam said warily, "an art exhibit seems a little… ostentatious. Don't you think?" He asked Mercedes directly.
She felt her cheeks warm up and grinned. She had no idea how she was going to put up with his antics if he acted this way all night. "No, I think the art exhibit is a great idea. Noah?"
"Sounds good to me."
"Wonderful." Quinn looked to the driver. "Can we do that, Max?"
"Of course, Ms. Fabray. Anything else?"
"Not right now. But if we decide on something else, I'll let you know."
On the ride there, the conversation between the four was very casual (if by casual, you mean Mercedes and Sam talked the entire time while their dates barely got a word in edgewise). When they got into the art exhibit, the couples decided to split up.
"So, Sam," Quinn initiated their conversation, "how are you liking things here so far? I'm assuming you've gotten used to this place by now."
"Yeah, yeah I have. There's a lot of noise, especially at night, but I kind of like it that way. Reminds me that there are other people out there living their lives and doing things. It's nice."
With Sam and Quinn bonding on their own, Noah and Mercedes were holding hands and admiring the art.
"It was really nice of Quinn to invite us to this," he said.
"Yeah, I guess it was."
"This is one of my favorite pieces here I think," he said as they came upon a collection of blown glass stones that were adhered to the wall entitled, "Decisions." "These two artists, a widow and a widower, collab to make sculptures of blown glass. The widower shapes the glass into these huge stones while the widow picks out the color palettes and makes these really intricate designs before they both figure out the arrangement of the stones."
"It's beautiful."
"It is. But this one is a little different because while most of their art is centered around beauty, love, and serenity, this one is about loss, pain, and" he pointed at the title card, "decisions. See, when the piece was unveiled, they told this story about a relationship. After the relationship ended, one person was unsure of every decision they made. They couldn't move past what the relationship made them think of themself and others. You see how all the colors bounce off of each other?"
She nodded.
"That represents the feelings the person couldn't overcome after the relationship. Those feelings went into one decision, and the next, and so on and so forth."
She smiled seeing him so enthralled by the art and knowing so much about it. "Very interesting and again, very beautiful."
"And it goes even deeper. Like some of the stones, some of our decisions are plain and simple. Very clear-cut. But like the others, some decisions are so complex that you don't even know where to start."
"And what about the black stone in the middle?" She pointed to it.
"Well, black absorbs all colors. So, the black is the point where you let go of the hurt you've been carrying. It's a fresh start. That's why there's a blank path beside it. Now, you're clear to make decisions based on what you want your future to look like instead of being stuck in the past."
"Wow. That's incredible. How do you know all this?"
"My mom was invited to the unveiling and brought me along. At first, I was kind of over it, but it grew on me. Plus, the story is kind of like us, right?"
"Like us?"
"After our last couple of tries, you were in this weird space of not wanting to have your time wasted."
"I also didn't want to feel like you didn't care… again."
"But in the end, you gave me a second chance and now here we are." He kissed her hand.
"Yeah, I guess it is like us." The longer she stared at the sculpture, the more she felt like the walls were closing in on her. "I'm going to get some air."
"Okay, I'll come with you."
"No, it's fine. I just need a minute. I'll be back." She snuck her way up to the building's rooftop, sighing happily as the chilled early December air rushed past her face. She wandered over to the ledge and let herself become mesmerized by the skyline in the distance.
"You're not gonna jump are you?" A voice said behind her. "Because that would make the night a lot less fun."
She instantly recognized it as Sam, laughing softly as she turned her head. "No, I'm not. And you shouldn't joke about that stuff."
"Sorry. I did make you laugh, though."
"How'd you find me?"
He leaned against the ledge on his back beside her, studying her face and she stared off into the bright lights of the city. "Saw you getting on the elevator and figured you weren't headed to the little girl's room. Plus, I know how much you like forbidden places."
She grinned at the reminder. "The lake. We never went back there, you know?"
"How about Saturday? To celebrate my win at the state championship tomorrow?"
"Deal," she said before feeling literal chills run down her spine.
"Here." He took his jacket off and offered it to her.
She declined, "I'm good, thanks."
"Bull. We're on the top level of this building and I could probably see you shivering from the bottom one. Take it."
She did as told with thanks. "You wouldn't happen to have fit a three-course meal in this thing, would you? I didn't know we'd be going somewhere before the restaurant and I'm starving."
"Not quite, but I did just get this from the vending machine." He went into his pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar. "I kind of had the same feeling. Split it?" He opened the wrapper and broke off half for her.
She smiled as she bit into it. "Never has something so wrong felt so right."
"Don't tell that to my wallet. This thing cost me 3 bucks." He chuckled before asking, "What's got you up here?"
She leaned forward. "Do you believe in fresh starts? Being able to leave the past in the past? Or do you think that once something screws us up, we're doomed to always be that way?"
He pondered his response for a while. "You know, after homecoming when we had our fight and I left, I was feeling so many different things. I was sad, angry, hurt, disappointed, so much was going through my mind."
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"No, it's okay. We're good now. After I left, I didn't know what to do or where to go. I got on the bus and figured I would just ride it until the driver kicked me off. But while I was there, a part of me wanted to do something drastic. Something that could change my situation and make everything not fucking suck for once. And maybe it's because I'm my mother's child, but I immediately thought of drugs."
She looked at him for the first time since initially he'd found her. "Did you—"
"No, I didn't." He eased her fears. "But I could've. I know everything I need to know about them from watching my mom. And she was barely clean when she had me, so I'm hard-wired to want them. Practically engineered to become dependent on them or addicted to them. That's why I don't do or take anything."
"Like that night at the party?"
He nodded. "The reason I stay 100% clean and sober is that I realized that just because addiction's something that my mom has dealt with, it doesn't mean I have to repeat that cycle. It's not easy by any means, but you can move past whatever something or someone has put into your head. The only kicker is that you have to be open about it."
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "Addiction is scary. It ruined my family and our lives, and we're only six people. And to this day, the thing I'm most afraid of is becoming like my parents: an addict, a dealer, maybe even both. Without confronting that fear, the possibility of my own addiction would've had a much stronger hold on me." He ran his hand through his hair. "I guess what I'm saying is that you don't get a fresh start by just leaving the past in the past. No, you have to acknowledge why something screwed you up the way it did. Your past has to stay with you. Always."
She turned her eyes back to the skyline. "My dad wants me to come see him."
He turned his body to face her."Really?"
"He's coming home in two weeks and he wants to talk with me and my brother this weekend. I don't want to go."
"So, what does that have to do with your question?"
"A part of me wants a fresh start with him," she said simply. "I know what I said before, but…" she trailed off. "God, that letter fucked me up in a major way, Sam. My entire relationship with him has made me wonder who I really am, but I can't stop thinking about that letter specifically. Why send it? Why keep up the charade? Especially with my mom gone and him locked up. I would've turned 18 by the time he was supposed to get out. His parental obligations would've been over and he could've washed his hands of me. So why?"
"Why tell you he's getting out?"
"Why tell me anything? Why send me birthday cards? Why continue to try to act like my dad when I know he doesn't want to? It's getting to me more than I first thought." She propped her elbows up on the ledge and rested her face in her palms.
"Cedes, you—" His phone went off in his pants pocket. "It's Quinn. We've got to go if we want to make our reservation."
Mercedes handed him his jacket back. "Neither of them would like it if they saw me in this."
He almost wanted to tell her to keep it.
"I'm sorry about that," she said as they began walking back inside. "I didn't mean to get all emotional on you. We're supposed to be having fun tonight."
"You don't stop going through something just because we're supposed to have a fun night. I get it." He pressed the elevator call button.
"I just don't think I've ever felt so… frustrated by not being able to answer a question."
He understood that. "Not to bring it back to me again, but I've felt that way, too. But sometimes, Mercedes, things happen to us and we can't find answers for them. It doesn't have to be the be-all-end-all of who we are, though. Maybe this shouldn't be about finding an answer, but finding out how to live your life despite not having one."
She was impressed by his advice. "Where did you get all that from?"
He graced her with his famous grin. With rosy cheeks, he simply said, "you."
Me? "That's funny because I don't remember saying that."
"I know you think that you're, like, super screwed up over everything that's happened to you, not just your dad stuff, and I don't want to dismiss your feelings about that. But you're also kind of one of the greatest people I've ever known and we just met not too long ago. Living with you, watching you, being friends with you, it's all taught me how great you can be when your life is about what you have and not what you're missing."
Their elevator arrived and they stepped onto it.
"I've said this before and I'll say it again: your life is not about your dad or his decisions. It's about you and yours. You've shown me what it means to thrive, even after tragedy has struck. So you can go to your dad and seek out an answer or you can say 'screw it'. Either way, you're going to come out on top because that's just who you are."
There's no way he's not making this up. I'm far from thriving. I'm- She started to doubt him, but she stopped herself. Sam had never lied to her and he had no reason to. Earlier that night, he said that she deserved to feel good about herself. She was going to start working on that right here, right now. As they rode on the elevator in silence, she couldn't stop staring at him. Or rather, his reflection in front of her. He was so, she searched for the word, good. He had his issues, but Sam was truly good. Then, without warning, a thought popped into her head. A thought that so desperately wanted to turn itself into an utterance. At first, she couldn't place it. It felt familiar, yet strange. Like something she'd felt before but in a way that she'd never felt it. She looked at his reflection again, this time catching his eyes and a quick wink just as the elevator doors opened with a ding. Then it hit her.
I love you.