Sometime later, Sam opened his eyes to the ceiling of a hospital room.

Seeing him awake, Mercedes stood from her chair beside his bedside. "Hey," she said softly. "You're okay. You're at the hospital. You got hurt at the game. I tried to go with you in the ambulance, but they wouldn't let me. They ran some tests on you; the doctor said your scans were clear of any signs of permanent brain damage, but nothing else. I called Grandmother and she called Shelly. They'll both be here soon. Do you need anything? Water or anything?"

Sam turned his head slowly and furrowed his brows at her. "Who are you?"

Her mouth dried up. "Who am I? You don't know me?"

He looked at her for another moment before smirking weakly. "Gotcha."

She let out a shaky breath as she hit him on the shoulder. "Don't fucking do that."

"Ow! How can you hit me when I'm injured?"

"The doctor didn't say anything about your shoulder." She crossed her arms before asking him, "Seriously, though. How do you feel?"

"Not fantastic. My head is killing me, I'm dizzy, everything hurts, but my chest is the worst." He gripped his abdomen gently and gulped. "I guess now I can add nauseous to the list."

She placed her hand on his shoulder, just above where she previously hit him. "Do you need a bucket or something?"

"No, I'll be fine. I just," he paused before bringing his hand up to his mouth.

Mercedes instantly shot over to his table for a basin and held it under him, her hand never leaving his shoulder.

His nausea subsided and he sat back. "I'm okay."

"I'm going to get the doctor." She turned around to leave.

"No, wait." He reached for her hand and hissed at the pain on his left side. "I'm alright. I'm sure the doctor will be here soon. Can you just stay with me for a minute? Please?"

She contemplated it before returning to her previous spot. She didn't know exactly why, but she didn't let go of his hand. Instead, she held it a little tighter.

"Are you okay?" He asked after a moment of silence between them. She seemed upset before, to say the least. But now, she just seemed completely out of sorts.

She nodded. "Not a big fan of hospitals. Too many bad memories."

"So, you're not okay?"

She looked down at their hands. "I don't really want to talk about it."

Her mom. "Not that it makes you feel any better, but same."

His mom. "You have no idea how much you scared me back there." She brought her eyes back to him.

It was Sam's turn to look at their locked hands.

"Quinn's here. She and the rest of the crew were waiting outside after the game. I told them to go home, but she stayed."

If he had the strength to roll his eyes, he would've. No offense to Quinn, but they weren't that serious for her to wait at the hospital for him. "That's surprising."

"Right? Especially considering she's missing a Kate Spade flash sale. But then again, she's probably scrolling through the site on her phone in the waiting room as we speak." She lightened the mood with a joke.

Sam laughed before he could realize that his body didn't want him to. The searing pain in his side got even worse.

She gasped, "Are you okay? I'm so sorry."

He steadied his breathing and asked her, "Can you do me a favor? I need to see what's going on down there. Unbutton my gown?"

She obliged. As she reached around his neck and snapped open each of the buttons, she felt the heat of his face so close to hers. It was a familiar heat, the heat she felt when they kissed for the first time. She waited for the go-ahead to pull the gown off, as he was still sore.

He readied himself for the incoming pain. His eyes found her face as she watched her hands attentively. All that was visible of her eyes were her long and curly eyelashes, but he could've looked at them for hours. He felt small jolts of electricity travel all around him as her hands lightly grazed his toned shoulders and helped him lift his arms from the gown. With his torso free, he thanked her.

She took a compact mirror out of her bag. "My mom always said never to go anywhere without one." She opened it and held it up to his side. "I'm guessing this is where it hurts?" She showed him a large portion of his side that was patchy and bright red.

"Ouch. Yeah, that's it," he said. "Anything else?"

She scanned his torso. "Nothing major except for this." She tilted the mirror upward to show a few stitches directly above his left eyebrow.

"Shit. How did I get those?"

She laughed. "Real funny. I bet you'll tie your helmet extra tight the next time you step out onto the field."

"What?"

Her laugh tapered off. "Your helmet came off as you went down. You don't remember?"

He gave her a frown as his answer.

She continued explaining, "You were going for the game-winning play. That thing you do where you run down the field with the ball? One of the other players reached out for you and ended up knocking you on your side. Your helmet came off and it hit you on its way down, which gave you the gash." His series of reactions told her that this was all news to him. "Sam, stop joking, okay? It was funny the first time, I'll give you that, but you need to cut it out."

"Cut what out? I'm not joking. Did I at least make the touchdown? Win the game?"

He's telling the truth. "Sam, you didn't even make it to the end zone. None of this sounds familiar to you?" With her only response being the confused look on his face, her worry for him shot back up. She sat back down in her chair and reached for his hand, which he let her hold. She didn't pray, but she hoped that whatever higher power existed could hear her asking for him to be okay. She needed him to be okay.

A few seconds later, there were three quiet knocks at the door. The doctor opened it and said cheerfully, "Mr. Evans, I'm Dr. King. Nice to have you back with us. I see you've been gathering information on your injuries."

Sam looked up at the doctor, who'd been followed in by Coach Beiste. "Coach, what's going on? Did we win the championship?"

Beiste stopped him with a hand. "Calm down, son. Let's get you settled first and then we can talk about the game."

Mercedes willingly stood back as Dr. King gave Sam a quick exam, but she couldn't help but feel an emptiness as their hands separated and something filled the space between them.

As he was giving his exam, the doctor started asking Sam a series of questions to test his memory. Mercedes felt her shoulders become lighter with each question he got right.

"And Sam, do you know who this pretty young lady is here?" The doctor pointed at Mercedes.

The lopsided grin wasted no time in making its appearance as he looked at her. Pretty indeed. "I could spot her from a mile away. Maybe even 2."

She couldn't help but smile as she rolled her eyes.

Dr. King enjoyed Sam's humor as well. "That's fantastic, Sam. But I need her name."

"Mercedes. Mercedes Love Jones," he said her entire name. "AKA Cedes, AKA Sunshine, AKA Gia." AKA the girl I can never stop thinking about.

The doctor looked to Mercedes for confirmation, amused.

"Ignore his antics," she said, still smiling. "But he's right."

"Ok. Great. Now, I'm going to list 5 words and ask you to repeat them back to me. Car, sunset, movie, pencil, glass. Can you repeat those?"

He nodded. "Car, sunset, movie, pencil, glass."

"Excellent. Try your best to remember those. I'll ask you to repeat them again in a few minutes. Sam, do you know how you got here today?"

"Mercedes told me that some guy tackled me and my helmet came off, but I don't remember any of it."

"What do you remember?"

"I remember being out on the field. The other team had just scored and we were going into halftime, but we were still winning, so I wasn't worried. After that, nothing."

Mercedes kneaded her lip. He didn't get hurt until the very end of the game. That was a real fat chunk of "nothing."

"Okay, great. Any other symptoms you're having?"

Sam tried to think.

"He said his head and his chest were hurting really bad," Mercedes stepped back to his bedside, "and he was nauseous. Well, he said he was fine, but I know green when I see it."

"Ok. Anything else?"

Sam looked to Mercedes for help, possibly even another answer, but she couldn't help him. He turned his attention to the doctor. "I don't think so, no."

"Alright." Dr. King took out his tablet and began reading off of it. "So, Sam, you had a pretty nasty fall. I told Mercedes earlier that we didn't see any permanent brain damage, but you could still have a pretty severe concussion. That would explain the headaches and nausea as well as not being able to remember what happened."

"Okay."

"You also sustained a rib fracture. It's not too bad and it should heal itself, but that pain in your chest is going to be there for a while. If you want we can get someone in here to work on breathing techniques with you to ensure that you're able to breathe without as much pain. We'll keep you here for observation for 2-3 days just to make sure there are no complications or other signs of brain damage. That sound okay to you?"

Sam nodded.

"Do you have any family? A mom or dad we can call?"

Sam took Mercedes' hand and said, "She's my family."

She rubbed his hand. "His social worker will be here soon, as will my grandmother. He's under her care for the time being."

"Ok. If you could please let me know as soon as they arrive, I'd like to speak with them. I want you to get some rest, Sam. We'll talk about treatment once everyone gets here. In the meantime, I'll make sure we get you something for the pain."

Upon hearing this, Sam asked Coach Beiste if he could have a moment alone with Dr. King.

Mercedes went to follow Beiste, but Sam squeezed her hand, refusing to let go. She looked back at him, but he was looking down at his lap. She squeezed his hand back and resumed her post.

With the three of them alone, Sam cleared his throat. "When you say 'something for the pain,' you don't mean anything, like, hard or anything, do you?"

"For the concussion, no. We'll give you some acetaminophen, but that's about it, especially since you're so young. But I was going to prescribe some codeine for the fracture pain."

"You can't do that," he said abruptly.

"Do you mind if I ask why not?"

"My mom's an addict. She has been since before I was born. I don't do any drugs and I never want them in my system."

"I understand that," Dr. King made a note on his tablet, "But I just want you to know that our team does their best to control the dosage and minimize the drugs' addictive potential. You most likely have nothing to worry about. Plus codeine isn't as strong as, say, morphine or oxycodone."

Sam's grip on Mercedes' hand tightened slightly. "Yeah, but it's just as habit-forming and it's easier to get when I get out of here. I'm no pharmacist, but I know my stuff, doc. You can't get over on me with this."

"I'm not trying to get over on you," he reassured him. "But if I don't give you something strong enough, you're going to be in a lot of pain. And it's going to make it harder for you to heal in good time."

"I'm okay with that."

"How about this? I'll start you on the absolute smallest dose and we can-"

"What part of no don't you get? It's two letters, very simple," Sam raised his voice.

Without thinking about it, Mercedes, whose hand he was now holding onto for dear life, held his face with her free hand. "Sam, just take a second to calm down, okay? He's not trying to hurt you, he's just trying to help." She'd gotten used to his anger by now and had become very good at helping him cool down. She asked Dr. King, "Surely, there's some type of alternative to that? Something that's not addictive?"

"There are some alternatives, yes. Is acetaminophen still okay?"

Sam nodded gently.

"Okay. I'll put an order in for that and something else to help with your chest. I'll also have one of our nurses bring in an ice pack to help with the swelling. I'm going to give you some time to rest. Before I leave, Sam, do you remember the five words I asked you to by any chance?"

"Yeah. Car," Sam went over the words in his head, "Car," he repeated the same word

Dr. King offered him some help. "They're the five words I asked you about at the beginning of your exam. You can list them in any order. 'Car' is one of them."

"Car," after a moment, he followed with, "pencil,"

"Pencil was another one. That's good. Any more?"

Sam closed his eyes as he tried to fill in the blanks. "Car, pencil." He began to get frustrated. "I remember them. I just… It was car, something, pencil, something, something."

Car, sunset, movie, pencil, glass. Mercedes tried to send him the words telepathically, which obviously wasn't working.

"I don't want you to exert yourself," said Dr. King. "It's okay if you can't remember them all. Two is great."

"But I do remember them. I do. It was car, something, pencil," his hand went to his forehead, "car, pencil." His voice grew more and more agitated, "Car and pencil and something else. There was something else." His hand started to shake and his breaths became rapid, shallow, and shaky. "I remember it! It was car and pencil and…"

Mercedes brought her free hand to his shoulder once more to soothe him. "Sam, it's okay. It's okay."

"You did great, Sam. Let me know when your other family gets here and I'll check back in with you all."

Mercedes thanked the doctor and he left the room.

"I know the words," Sam said, still determined. "I promise, I do. I'm not stupid or anything."

"Not remembering the words doesn't mean you're stupid, Sam." She reassured him. "I know you know them. You just couldn't quite get it. But Dr. King said you did great, so let's not worry too much about it."

He lay his head back and sighed. "Can you tell me what happened again?"

She explained his incident once more.

"And the game? Did we win?"

"I don't know, I haven't asked. But we don't need to worry about that right now. You should be resting."

"I can't rest without knowing what happened, Cedes. This is my future we're talking about."

He had a point. "Let's get your gown back on and I'll go get Beiste, okay?"

Beiste came into the room not long after and Sam immediately began apologizing.

"I'm so sorry, Coach. We shouldn't have done the play. You probably tried to tell me not to and I should've listened."

"The play was a great idea, Evans. It was a well-calculated risk. You just got unlucky is all." Beiste shrugged.

"But I lost us the championship. We lost, right?"

Beiste scoffed at him. "Are you kidding? We won the damn thing."

He let his jaw drop slightly. "For real?"

"The lineman who took you down executed a tackle that's been outlawed for years. The ref said that with how fast you are going and how close you were to the end zone, there was no way that he could've gotten you in time. Not only did he give us the touchdown, but we also got a bonus kick." Beiste's voice soared, "We won 33-27."

Sam laughed in disbelief. "We're state champs?"

"State champs. All thanks to you."

"State champs!" He said to Mercedes.

Happy for him, she smiled. "Congratulations, Sam."

Beiste patted him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm gonna let you rest and recuperate. I've got the recruiters from tonight asking about you, but I sent them on their way. We'll talk business later."

"But if we make them wait too long, won't they lose interest?"

He shook his head. "Sam, the game's barely been over for a few hours and I've already got recruiters from all over the country asking about you. Nobody's losing interest in you anytime soon, that I can promise." He made his way to the door. "Congrats, kid. Not only did you lead us to a title, but you changed your life tonight. Rest up."

Sam resumed cheering for himself, "Oh, yes! Gimme some!" He held up his hand for Mercedes to give him a high-five.

She hugged him instead, gently wrapping her arms around him. "I'm so proud of you."

He hugged her back. "I have you to thank for it. I wouldn't have been able to do any of it without your pep talk." He knew that this was the moment he'd been waiting for. "At the risk of undoing our reset, I'm going to say something."

"Yeah?"

"I know I said I would be able to respect your relationship with Noah, but… I don't know. I thought that I would say that, go back to dating Quinn, and hopefully, one day, I would be able to go a minute without thinking about you. I thought that it wouldn't burn me as much to see you with him if I just stuck it out. But weeks have gone by and Cedes, there's no end in sight for the way that I feel about you."

She looked down at their hands. Why had she been holding it all night?

More importantly, why couldn't she let it go?

"But Sam, that doesn't mean that it won't get better. I know it's still hard." It's hard for me, too. "But you just need to tough it out. I promise it'll get easier." Truthfully, she was saying that to herself more than him.

He tried to sit up, but his pain wouldn't let him. "I don't think you understand what I'm saying. I don't want to tough it out. I don't want things to get better or easier. I want you."

Why wasn't she pulling away when she was in a relationship and he was in a… whatever he had with Quinn? Most girlfriends don't hold hands with someone who isn't their boyfriend while they confess their feelings for them. She thought to herself.

"I don't know about you, but I've never met someone who's just gotten me the way you do. And it's not just that neither of our dads wanted us or you're the only person who can calm me down when I get angry. Even the sci-fi references, the music, our jokes, everything that we say and do makes me feel like we were made for one another. Like we balance each other out."

"But I'm—"

"With Noah. I know. But I just had to tell you that. Because no matter what happens, I need you to know how I feel about you. Mercedes, I l-"

"Oh, my god. I'm so glad you're okay!"

The two looked to the door and said together, "Quinn."

Mercedes jerked her hand away from his, hopefully in time enough for Quinn not to see.

Quinn rushed over to hug Sam. "I've been waiting to see you. They said you broke one of your ribs?"

"It's just a fracture," Sam explained.

"Still, that had to have hurt. It was so scary seeing you passed out on the field like that."

"I'm going to give you two some time alone," Mercedes said.

"Cedes—"

"Noah's out there," Quinn mentioned. "We were waiting together. Maybe you should go see him? Give him an update?"

She nodded. "Thanks. I will."

Sam's eyes followed her as she walked out of the room.

Mercedes found Noah in the waiting room. "Hey. Quinn told me you were out here."

He stood up from his chair and hugged her before giving her a kiss, one she didn't seem eager to return. "Let's go for a walk. You should get some fresh air." He took her hand and let her outdoors.

"So, Sam's doing okay," she said as they began their walk. "He's got a few injuries and he's struggling to remember some things, but the doctor said he should make a full recovery. Once my grandmother and his social worker get back, we'll be going over treatment. I'll be sure to let you know."

"That's great, but I'm not really here to check up on him. How are you?"

Her brows furrowed. "Your quarterback got knocked out cold on the field and the first thing you want to talk about is me?"

"I just know that you've said before that you don't like hospitals. I can't check up on my girlfriend?"

She decided to brush it off. She didn't have the energy to exchange words with him tonight. "Yeah, sorry. Congrats on the game, by the way."

He smiled proudly. "Thank you, thank you. Speaking of the game, since I'm a state champ now, my parents are extra excited to host a victory dinner for the four of us. Have you thought any more about that?"

She was hesitant at first, but she needed to do this. If she was going to get over not being with Sam, she and Noah had to continue moving forward. "I have and I think I'd really love to do that. When is it?"

"How about tomorrow? Is your schedule still clear?"

Is he serious? "Noah, Sam's in the hospital. No, my schedule isn't clear."

He sucked his teeth. "Mercedes, you're my girlfriend. We have to be able to—"

She mumbled, "I know I'm your girlfriend. You don't have to mention it like that every time we talk."

Noah stopped walking. "Why can't we just have a normal conversation? One where you don't snap at me or say something under your breath?"

She didn't respond, still too tired to get into this right now.

"Also, why does it feel like every time I turn around, you and Sam are becoming closer and closer?"

What? "Why is that such a problem for you?"

"Because you two are practically attached at the hip. And in just the last month, you've hung out more than we have the entire time we've been together. You don't make time for me anymore, Cedes."

She scoffed. "We just went on a date last night."

"No, we went on a double date. Because Quinn asked us to. If she hadn't said anything, would you have even thought of spending time with me last night?"

She didn't have to answer that. They both knew.

"And to make matters worse, you spent the entire night all but ignoring me while you made jokes with Sam."

"God, WHAT is your problem with him? Are you that insecure that me being close to another guy automatically makes him a villain?"

"It's not insecure when he very clearly likes you. And don't even try to deny it because I already know. I kept wondering why he always wanted to be around you. Why he was always so short with me when I never did anything to him."

"Sam is short with you because he tried out for your spot on the football team and you kept it, not because you rightfully earned it, but because Coach Beiste didn't want to hurt your feelings and crush the team."

"Is that what he told you?"

"Why would he lie about that?" Time for a reality check. "Sam doesn't dislike you because you're my boyfriend, Noah. He dislikes you because he thinks that people spend too much time coddling you and you walk around with a boosted ego because of it. And I'm starting to think he may be right." Suddenly, she found herself digging deeper into her defense for Sam. "Unlike you, some of us have to work to earn our spots and go to hell and back to keep them. And truthfully, no one needs a reason to dislike you. Although I know that's difficult for you to understand, given that you're the Senator's son and all."

He pointed at her. "And that's the other reason I know he likes you. He's spent so much time drawing this sympathy out of you. He wants you to feel for him, Mercedes. How can you not see that?"

She snarled, "His mother is in rehab after an overdose that nearly killed her. He's only here so that he doesn't age out of foster care and go down that road himself. But you think he's somehow drawing me into feeling sorry for him. And for what, because he likes me?" She didn't want to do this with him in the first place and the more they talked, the more upset she was becoming. She needed to be done with this conversation. She took a shaky breath, placing her hands out in front of her. "Noah, my day has been horrible since it began, as in I literally started the day crying and it's only gotten progressively worse."

"Mercedes—"

"And the guy who has become family to me, your star quarterback, is in the hospital with a broken rib, a not-so-mild concussion, and fucking memory loss. So much is going on and the first thing you want to talk about is us? Right here, right now, this is when you choose to unveil your big conspiracy about how he's been secretly manipulating me? I-" She regained her composure, though her blood was still boiling. "I can't do this right now."

"Well, maybe we shouldn't talk again until you can," he said simply.

She inhaled sharply as she looked up at him. She knew he was mad, but she would've thought that telling him about how bad her day had been would've changed something. Anything. "Maybe you're right."

They both walked past one another, Mercedes going back into the hospital and Noah making his way to the parking lot.

Mercedes calmly went back to Sam's room. There was no point in being upset over whatever just happened. Sam did like her— Noah was bound to catch on eventually. She just couldn't believe that he would say those things about him at a time like this.

Sam's face lit up seeing her back in the room after only a few minutes. "Hey, there. That was quick." He stared awkwardly at his feet. "I sent Quinn home, like, right after you got in here. Turns out you were right about the flash sale. She could barely lift her eyes from her phone once she sat down." He chuckled, frowning when she just smiled lightly instead of chuckling back. It was like she was barely even registering anything he was saying. "So," he called out to her softly. "I know that my landing here is kind of a bummer, but you can laugh."

She nodded as if she understood.

So she was listening to him, just not reacting. "I know I asked earlier and you brushed me off and I wasn't going to ask you now because I figured you'd just say something along the lines of 'let's not worry about me', but Cedes, I've sort of been worrying about you all day. What's going on? Is it your visit with your dad tomorrow?"

She sighed as she felt that familiar feeling at the back of her eyes. She took her glasses off to prepare for whatever was to come. "And I told myself I wasn't going to cry any more today."

"Any more?" Sam sat up, this time ignoring his pain. "This is the point where I would come over and sit beside you, but I'm obviously a little incapacitated at the moment. Think you could minimize the distance here?"

"Sam, I don't really want to-"

"Talk about it. I know. But we haven't gotten this close just for you to clam up now."

She didn't move from her spot, but she told him what was going on, "I'm pretty sure Noah and I just broke up."

"Oh, shit." He wasn't expecting that. "Sorry. Why?"

This was where she drew the line. It was one thing to tell him what was happening, but there was no way she was going to let it slip that their breakup was about him. "I just don't think he's the guy I once thought he was. Look, Sam, that's not important right now. I'll be fine."

He yawned.

"You should get some sleep. Do you want an extra blanket? It's pretty chilly in here." She got up and reached for the blankets beside him.

He wanted to reach for her hand again but knew that he shouldn't until he figured out what this meant for them. This was obviously a really bad time to try telling her he loved her again. And she wasn't talking about it, but her visit with her dad tomorrow was sure to be weighing heavily on her. Tonight would be one of those nights where he'd just have to let her be. He simply declined and a silence fell between them as she cut the lights off.