Hey there, you guys know the score. Another rewrite of someone else's work, Samcedes style.
The title of the book is Scorched and it is written by Jennifer L Armentrout.
As usual, most of the work is the author's. Please give it a try. Thank you.
I do not own Glee or the characters and I especially do not own Scorched.
Warning: Contains bad language and talks about drinking.
MERCEDES
This had to be the absolutely stupidest thing, I'd ever seriously considered, agreeing to take part in.
That was admitting to something pretty epic, because, I'd done a lot of stupid things in my twenty-two years, strutting around on planet Earth.
And I mean, a lot of stupid things.
Take for example: At the ripe age of six, I shoved a fork in my pappy's toaster, when my Toaster Strudel got stuck...though I'm pretty sure, even back then, I knew that wasn't a clever thing to do.
That ended in a trip to the emergency room and a near heart attack for the dear old man, who, after that, refused to babysit me again.
Then, when I was ten, I allowed my older brother...older by barely a year...Roderick, to convince me, that jumping from the porch roof into the pool down below, was a totally cool idea and not dangerous at all.
That also ended with a trip to the ER, a broken leg, and a summer-long grounding for Roderick.
Not all my stupid actions resulted in hospital visits, but that didn't make them any less dumb.
When I was fourteen, I was positive, that I could take my parents' car around the block, without them ever finding out.
Unfortunately, in the excitement of doing something naughty, I'd forgotten to lift the garage door and ended up driving through it...in their shiny, new Benz.
Then, I'd dated Joshua Banks, all-star quarterback in high school, and while that didn't necessarily sound like a bad thing, he'd been under the impression...and probably still was...that the sun revolved around the Earth.
And because everyone else was doing it, I gave him my v-card, and immediately wished, I could grow that damn hymen back, because, the awkward fumbling in the back of his truck and all that sweating, hadn't been worth the pain and weirdness.
I was also beginning to think, changing my major at the start of the new year, from pre-med to education, hadn't been a smart choice, because, cheese on rice, I was going to be in school forever and when I graduated, I'd be so far in debt, that Sallie Mae would be the godmother of any children I had.
Not to mention, my parents were still reeling from my latest string of decisions, that they didn't necessarily approve of.
Both were doctors...successful ones, and Roderick was already in med school, continuing the family tradition, like the good child that he was.
But becoming a doctor...well, it had been what they wanted. Not what I wanted.
Seeing Caleb, my best friend's boyfriend, change his major last year, had given me the courage to do the same. Not that I'd ever tell him that, though. Or really admit that to anyone.
However, one of my latest and greatest idiotic decisions to date, and probably the most painful, was allowing myself to be charmed by Sam Evans.
Because, I totally, totally knew better.
From day one, I recognized Sam for what he was...a player's player.
After all, I'd grown up with a brother, who'd had the attention span of a gnat, when it came to girls. Sam was no better.
Fucker.
But I was about to make another epic bad decision, because, as I stared into Shaylee Hart's bright blue eyes, I couldn't tell my best friend no.
Well, I could tell her no. I'd told her no a lot, but I couldn't in this situation, because, telling her no, meant that I would be stuck here by myself, and nothing drove me more crazy, than being alone.
"Please," she said, clapping her tiny hands together as she hopped, causing her thick black ponytail to bounce.
Everything about Shay was small. Standing next to her, I felt like Bigfoot...a curvy Bigfoot.
"Please. It will be so much fun. I promise you. And it's going to be the last time any of us, really have a lot of time to get away. Summer is almost over. Caleb is doing the vet school stuff and my grad school classes are going to suck up all my time."
'And I'd be puttering around, being lame and useless, still taking undergrad classes, like the loser I was turning out to be,' I thought.
Plopping down on the edge of the bed, in the apartment she now shared with Caleb, I tried not to think about all the indecent things, those two had done on said bed.
Or think about the constant reminder, that all my friends were either paired off, entering grad school, or starting their careers, while I was...unchanged. Stuck.
Even though I kept changing my mind about, well, everything, I was still stuck.
"But it's a cabin in the woods of West Virginia," I said, shaking off troublesome thoughts, before they festered into something I couldn't ignore. "That's like the start of every horror movie featuring cannibals."
Shay narrowed her eyes.
"You had no problem going to the cabin in Snowshoe."
"That's because, that cabin is in a tourist town, and this cabin sounds like it's in the middle of the mountains," I pointed out. "And may I remind you what happened, the last time you went to Snowshoe? You got snowed in and some crazy dude attacked you."
"That was a freak occurrence," she insisted, waving her hand.
It had taken her a long time to be so flippant about the event, but I noted that for this trip, she and Caleb had rented a different cabin, rather than going back to the one his family owned.
I honestly wasn't sure if she would ever go back to that cabin.
"And the house Caleb and I rented, is actually near Seneca Rocks, so it's not that remote. It isn't like you're going to run into the chupacabra or a pack of aliens."
I snorted like a little piglet.
"I'm more worried about six-fingered hillbillies."
She folded her arms across her chest.
"Mercedes..."
Exhaling, I rolled my eyes.
"Okay. I know there aren't six-fingered hillbillies running around."
Truthfully, I'd found West Virginia to be very beautiful every time I'd visited.
"The cabin is fully loaded and gorgeous. It's huge. Six bedrooms, a hot tub and a pool."
Moving over to the dark cherry dresser, she started moving the bracelets sprinkled across the top, organizing them by color. What a little freak.
"It will be a week in paradise," she finished.
I lifted a brow in doubt.
To me, paradise was lounging on an island in the Caribbean, with a margarita the size of a toddler in my hand, but hey, what did I know?
"And the house is big enough, that you won't even know Sam is there," she added, as she cast a sly grin over her shoulder. "If that's what you want to do. Of course, you don't have to ignore him."
"You had to invite him, didn't you?"
Needing to move, I popped up from the bed and stalked passed her, heading into the bathroom...the ridiculously clutter-free bathroom, with its deep-blue floor mats and matching toilet seat cover.
Ugh. Couples.
I leaned against the sink and stared into the mirror.
Yikes. My eyeliner was trying to mate with my cheeks. How had Shay failed to mention that?
"I didn't invite him." Her voice carried from the bedroom. "Caleb did. And what's the big deal? I thought you two were getting along now."
Swiping my fingers under my eyes, I dropped my hands to the cool rim of the porcelain sink with a sigh.
"Just because we're getting along right now, doesn't mean we'll get along tomorrow or next week, or an hour from now. He's moody like that."
There was no answer from the bedroom.
Rising onto the tips of my toes, I peered into the mirror, and then cursed under my breath.
Was that a zit forming on my chin? A huge one, too.
I puckered my nude lips.
At what point, would my face outgrow the pimple phase?
Turning my attention back to the conversation at hand, I said,
"And why would Caleb even invite him? Sam is as interesting, as getting my eyebrows plucked. Speaking of which..."
I pulled back from the mirror, wrinkling my nose.
"My eyebrows look like caterpillars, Shay. Hairy, bushy caterpillars."
Shaylee cleared her throat.
"Um...Merce..."
"Actually, let me rephrase that."
Settling flat on my bare feet, I smoothed my hands over my shoulder-length hair, styled in curls, with red highlights.
My hair looked black and auburn in normal light, but out in the sun, the highlights look much redder.
Shay always call me Little Orphan Annie, since I also had the matching freckles and of course, my middle name is Andrea.
"Plucking the hair off my chin would be more interesting, than spending a week with Sam," I said. "And why do we get hair on our chins? Don't answer that. You'll probably have some kind of logical explanation, and I'm against all things logic right now."
"Mercedes..."
"But plucking any piece of body hair would be less painful. God."
Yep. I was getting riled up, like I always did when I thought about Sam.
"Do you know what that dickhead told me, after you and Caleb ditched me at the park, the night of the fireworks? And I don't even need to guess, what you two were doing behind those trees. Perverts."
I went on, anger resurfacing, as I remembered what Sam had said.
"He told me I drank too much. And he said this while holding a beer in his hand. What kind of fucked-up double standard is that? Plus, I need to drink, so I don't want to punch him in the gonads."
"Nice."
I stiffened, eyes widening, as I recognized a voice way too deep to belong to Shaylee, unless she had been keeping a major secret from me.
That was definitely Caleb's voice, and if he was home, there was a good chance he wasn't alone, which meant...
Oh, for fuck's sake.
My face heated, as I turned towards the open bathroom door.
I briefly considered hiding behind the shower curtain, but that was weak and would be really weird.
So I walked out of the bathroom and quickly discovered, that I'd just inserted my foot...my entire leg, into my mouth.
Caleb Quinn was in the bedroom, with one well-defined arm, draped over Shaylee's slim shoulders.
Her cheeks were flushed pink, so I assumed he'd given her, one heck of a greeting with his mouth and hands. He was a multitasking kind of guy.
Right now, he was grinning at me, like a cat that had devoured an entire box of mice.
Caleb was hot. There was no denying that. With his messy brown hair and Prince Charming kind of smile, he was a perfect match for Shay, who sort of reminded me of a living, breathing Snow White.
Shaylee and Caleb? Ugh. They made me want to puke rainbows of the My Little Pony variety.
Their whole story was a thing of fairytales...what little girls dreamed of...what I still kind of dreamed of, in a really pathetically sad sort of way.
Growing up together, basically best friends for life, they both had been secretly in love with one another, and last year, while snowed in together at the cabin in Snowshoe, they'd finally fessed up to their feelings.
They'd been together ever since, and even though I was a wee bit envious of their love for one another, I couldn't be any happier for them.
Those two deserved their happy ending.
The walking penis leaning against the door-frame? Another story.
My gaze slid to Sam Evans, who was standing with a cocky expression on his face.
He wasn't hot. Oh no. Hot was too weak of a word, to describe all six feet, four inches of sexiness, packed into well-formed arms, tight abs, and a broad muscular chest, complete with narrow hips and an ass one could ogle for days.
His bright, gorgeous green eyes, were legit bedroom eyes, always half-hooded, sleepy and sensual.
His face was almost perfectly pieced together...high cheekbones and a lower lip, slightly fuller than the top lip. His nose was perfect. Ugh! I wish I could bite it.
I usually liked my guys with a bit more hair, but he rocked the buzzed-at-the-sides and cropped-at-the-top with bangs look.
Once, when I'd been drunk, I'd gotten the great idea to rub my palm across his head. And I just about died, over how the prickly softness of his hair, felt against my palm.
It had felt go-oo-d.
The first time I ever saw Sam, had been in my packed English 101 class, and my tongue had practically lolled out of my mouth and smacked off the floor.
He, of course, hadn't noticed me.
Hell, Caleb and Shay thought we'd only met in the last two years or so. Not true. I've known Sam since my freshman year.
That year alone, he'd been in two of my classes, and I had crushed on him hard...super hard...right up to the end of spring semester.
Sam lifted a brow.
"I stand by my word. You do drink too much."
My hands clenched, as I drew in a sharp, stinging breath.
"I didn't ask for your opinion, Dr. Phil."
"All I'm saying, is that I've seen you puke more times, than I would, hanging out in an emergency room during flu season," he added dryly.
The vein along my temple started to tick, while Caleb tipped his chin down, not doing a good job at hiding his smile.
"Oh. So roughly the same number of times you screwed random chicks this week?" I threw at him.
His lips curled into a half-smile...the kind of grin that would've been mind-numbingly sexy, if I didn't want to smack it off his face.
"Sounds about right...no, wait. There's probably been one more random chick, than you puking, if we're keeping count."
"Guys..." Shay murmured.
My shoulders tensed, as I readied for verbal battle, round five million.
"So that means you've probably caught chlamydia and gonorrhea this past weekend alone, then?"
He raised one shoulder, as he eyed me lazily.
"Probably the same likelihood, of you vomiting in your date's lap."
Warmth crept over my cheeks. I'd done that before. Once. It wasn't pretty.
"How about this? Why don't you go fu..." I started.
Sam pushed off the wall, turning to Caleb and Shay.
"Is she going to the cabin? If so, I need to pack hazmat gear."
I was going to hit him. Seriously.
I was going to plant my fist in his solar plexus, right at the exact moment he inhaled.
Struggling to keep a straight face, Shaylee looked at me.
"I don't know. I was trying to convince her before you two showed up, but now, that seems like a giant waste of time."
She shot a dark look at Sam and he smiled broadly.
"Sounds good to me," he said, clapping his hand on Caleb's shoulder. He started to walk back into the hall. "I was thinking about inviting Brandy," he ended.
My jaw hit the floor.
Brandy Page? Blonde, big booba-licious Brandy Page, who needed a calculator to count to one hundred?
"You are not inviting Brandy," Shay said, sighing.
Sam chuckled.
"How about Mandy?" he asked.
A choking sound came from Caleb.
I rolled my eyes. Now, he was just being silly.
"You have such classy taste in women," I said.
Casting a long look over his shoulder, he winked.
"At least none of them are spoiled little rich girls, who couldn't balance their own checking accounts without Daddy's help."
"I am not a spoiled little rich girl!" I shrieked, and Shay suddenly found something interesting on the ceiling.
Okay. Being that both my parents are very successful plastic surgeons, they are well off.
The apartment I live in? Paid for by Mom and Dad.
As was most everything inside said apartment and my car...an older Lexus I drove. But just because I came from money, didn't mean I was spoiled.
My parents were never afraid, to remind me, of just how much they paid for and how quickly all of it could go away.
And, they were making me pay my tuition, now that I'd switched majors, and the loans were already adding up.
"And I know how to balance my checkbook, unlike Mandy and Brandy."
"So you say," he replied, walking down the hall.
I prowled after him, ignoring the exasperated noise coming from Shay.
"Why don't you want me to go to the cabin, Sam Evans?"
"Do I really need to answer that question, Andy?" He headed for the galley kitchen.
My lip curled.
I hated that nickname. It made me feel like a dude with big shoulders...and I kind of did have big shoulders.
He's the only person whoever calls me that. I regret telling people my middle name.
Before I could reply, he said,
"It's Friday night, shouldn't you be plastered by now?"
"Ha. Ha."
Actually, I was usually a bit tipsy by this point on a Friday night, but Shaylee was staying in tonight with Caleb, and the rest of our friends were gone.
I can't go to the cabin.
The moment that thought finished, a slice of panic twisted in my stomach and my throat dried.
If I didn't go, I'd be...stuck here.
I'd be alone. And if I were alone, I'd just sleep and be lame, and if I didn't sleep, then I'd spend all the time thinking.
Sometimes thinking didn't end well.
So I had to go to the cabin.
Stopping in the entry to the kitchen, I looked down the hall, back to where Caleb and Shay lingered.
"When are you guys planning to go to the cabin?" I asked.
"Next week," Shay said.
She appeared, her hair mussed and out of the ponytail. Jesus. Caleb was a man of opportunity and a fast worker.
"We're going to leave on Monday morning," she finished.
"Hmm." I turned to Sam and smiled sweetly. "Well, since I'm a spoiled little rich girl, it's not like I have to get time off from work. I'm free next week."
Sam reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer. Screwing the top off the bottle, he raised it to me.
Wisps of cold air rolled up from the neck of the bottle.
"Well, since I don't have a drinking problem, I can have one of these."
"I don't have a drinking problem, asshole," I shouted.
He took a long, slow drink from the bottle, as he rested his hip against the counter.
The sexy half-grin was back in full force.
"You know, I've always heard the first step to recovery, is accepting that you have a problem."
I drew in another cutting breath and felt the warmth spread across my face.
Sam and I gave each other a hard time, that much was obvious, but for some stupid reason, a knot exploded in the base of my throat and the back of my eyes burned, as I watched him take another drink.
Embarrassment seeded in my stomach, blossoming into a tree, that only bloomed rotten fruit.
I didn't have a drinking problem.
Sam lowered the bottle, and the moment our gazes collided, the grin faded slowly from his striking face.
His brows knitted, as his lips parted, and I quickly turned towards Shaylee, my voice embarrassingly hoarse when I spoke.
"Count me in."
SAM
Aw, shit!
I watched Mercedes walk into the living room, the normal twitch of her hips absent.
No one swayed ass like her...no one had an ass like her...and seeing it gone from her step, was answer enough.
Our normal whatever-the-fuck-it-was between us, had gone further than I intended.
No doubt what I'd said had cut her, but shit, it was no different than any other day.
My hand tightened on the neck of the bottle.
For the life of me, I had no idea what the hell Mercedes Andrea Jones' problem was.
Honestly, no fucking clue.
One minute, sweet and sugary words parted those pouty thick lips of hers. Next, she was a fire-breathing dragon from hell...a hot, fire-breathing dragon, but still, her moods flipped more quickly, than cups did, during a game of flip
I smirked.
She'd always been this way with me, and the most fucked-up thing about it, there was a part of me, that actually looked forward to whatever was going to come out of her mouth.
Twisted as fuck.
It was like a game between us, to see who could hit the hardest, without lifting a finger.
If nothing else, it was damn entertaining...or at least, it had been until now.
Now, I wasn't too sure about it.
Those pretty doe eyes of hers, had looked suspiciously damp, right before she'd looked away, and yeah...that didn't sit right with me.
Caleb shot me a look, as he walked passed me and grabbed a beer out of the fridge.
I watched Mercedes sit on the edge of the couch, her posture unnaturally rigid.
Shaylee leaned against the arm and said,
"We're thinking about leaving early in the morning, around six."
I was expecting Mercedes to make some kind of crack, about getting up that early, but she was abnormally quiet. And my spine stiffened.
"That should put us at the cabin, between nine and ten in the morning, depending on traffic," Caleb said, as he stood beside me. "Then, we'll be heading back the following Monday."
"Sounds good to me," I said.
I didn't take my eyes off Mercedes, as she fiddled with a strap on her sandals, slipping them onto her feet.
But then, Shay glanced at me, smiling softly.
"You're definitely off from the fire department, right?" she asked.
I nodded.
Caleb had mentioned weeks ago, about wanting to hit up the cabin, before everyone headed back to class, and I'd requested the time off then.
Which had meant, I'd pulled a lot of doubles, but I hadn't minded it.
It wasn't too different from the twelve-hour shifts we worked in the first place.
Besides, I'm only going to be there until February of next year, and then, I was off to the police academy.
Not that I was in any hurry to leave the fire department, but being a cop was in my blood.
Except, I wanted to be a good cop.
I'd probably still volunteer at the fire hall, once I knew what kind of schedule I was looking at on the force.
"It makes sense if we drive up together," Shay said, as she toyed with a strand of her hair. "Caleb and I can pick you two up."
Mercedes had twisted towards Shay and started to protest the whole idea of taking one car.
I zoned out, then, staring at her, as the bottle of beer dangled from the tips of my fingers.
Damn...she was a cute girl. Nah, she was more than cute, and it wasn't like this was the first time I'd noticed that.
From the first time I'd seen her at the bar with Shay, she'd done more than just poke my interest. Hell, anyone with eyes knew she was a very pretty girl.
Lush lips, freckled cheeks and thick, dark eyelashes. Come to think of it, she reminded me of a girl I had a crush on, in middle school.
My lips tipped up in a small grin, as I lifted the bottle to my mouth.
Mercedes was a motherfucking firecracker, though, not the kind of girl who was easily tamed.
Hell, not the kind of girl you even wanted to tame.
I knew she dated, but she didn't stick with any guy for long.
There weren't many who could handle her. There wasn't even one dude I could think of who could. Well, other than me. I could fucking handle her, if I wanted to.
I hadn't back then, when I'd first met her.
Relationships hadn't been my thing, but life had a way of slowing down, and changing.
I wasn't as interested in random hookups, as I was a year or so ago, even though she seemed to think, my bedroom was equivalent to the metro station.
Shit! It had been months since I'd taken anyone home with me, or woken up in someone else's bed.
The night I met Mercedes, I knew immediately, she wasn't going to be like most girls.
I had hit on her, more than willing to engage in some fun times with her, and she had looked me straight in the eye, laughed in my face, and told me to keep dreaming.
Of course, I'd only wanted her more after that.
At first, it was the challenge, but then, I realized, she wasn't playing any games with me.
It hadn't diminished my attraction to her, however, but, I've spent the vast majority of time utterly confused, when it came to her feelings towards me.
At some point, I guessed she had relented to common sense, because, she was standing and tucking a gorgeous curl back behind her ear.
"Well, I'm going to get out of here," she said.
Those damn brown eyes drifted towards me, lingering for a moment, before moving on, and fuck me if they didn't look wounded...hurt.
She rounded the couch, grabbing a purse the size of a small car, off the chair, beside the front door.
"You know, head back to my posh apartment, paid for by my trust fund and drink until I get sloshed and end up puking my guts all over my Louis Vuitton purses."
My brows flew up, and for some damn reason, I didn't fire back.
I didn't say a damn word, as she said goodbye to Caleb and Shay, and then left.
And maybe I should've.
An odd burning sensation in my gut, told me that would've been the right thing to do.
"I'm going to...uh...go talk to her real quick," Shay said.
Hurrying around the couch, she stopped long enough to give Caleb a quick kiss and smack my arm, and then she blew passed us.
"Be right back."
When the door shut a second time, I looked at Caleb and he arched a brow at me.
"Soooo," he drew the word out. "I think you really pissed off Mercedes this time."
"Hmm."
I shook my head, somewhat dumbfounded, as my gaze drifted back to the door. 'Shit!'
Caleb eyed me, as he leaned against the wall, crossing his ankles.
"What is the deal between you two? I mean, seriously? If I didn't know better, I'd think you two had hooked up at some point and shit didn't end well."
I huffed out a short laugh.
"Come on, you know nothing like that happened between us."
He lifted a brow and took another drink.
"Maybe you just haven't told me about it."
I snorted.
"Shay swears that you two have done something, and y'all are just not sharing."
A frown pulled at my lips.
"Did Mercedes tell her that?"
He shook his head.
"No. It's just Shay's theory."
"Well, her theory is wrong."
"I don't get her deal with you," he said after a few moments.
"Me neither. I really have no clue," I murmured, taking a swig of my beer, as I stared at the door. "But you know what? I'm going to find out."
Stay safe!