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Standard disclaimer.

Brace yourselves!

MERCEDES

Although the omelets smelled amazing, after one bite, the fluffy eggs and veggies, turned to sawdust in my mouth.

I couldn't eat or force myself to pretend that I could.

Between blurting out how I'd first met Sam and then Caleb's announcement, I was ready to go cry somewhere...preferably on another planet.

I dumped my food and quickly washed the plate, leaving the kitchen to find Shay.

I didn't even look at Sam as I left the kitchen.

Shay was in her's and Caleb's room, packing. I hesitated at the door, feeling like absolute crap.

Guilt churned restlessly, as she glanced over her shoulder at me.

"Thank you for last night..." I said, watching her fold a shirt. "...For helping me. I appreciate it."

"It's no big deal. It's a practice run for me, right?" she teased. "You're feeling better?"

I nodded.

My headache was partly due to the anxiety attack and mostly because, I'd gotten plastered.

"Shay, we don't have to leave."

She dropped a ball of socks into the suitcase and turned towards me. Her expression was pinched...somber.

"Yeah, we do."

"But..."

"Both of us are ready to go home, and it's actually calling for rain again, later tonight and all day tomorrow. So if we stayed, we'd be stuck inside," she continued. "And honestly, none of us need cabin fever."

I shifted my weight from one foot to the next.

"It's because of last night, isn't it? I promise..."

"Mercedes, you know I love you, right? You're my best friend. Seriously." She sighed, as she walked over to me, and I tensed. "I just don't think this is good for you right now. Honestly, I probably shouldn't have pushed you towards Sam. That wasn't a smart move."

My mouth dried as my stomach tightened.

She looked up at me with all seriousness.

"I know you haven't told me what happened between you two, but I'm not stupid. Something did, and maybe it shouldn't have...not right now."

"Not right now?" I heard myself repeat.

Shaylee drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then,she squared her shoulders, and I prepared for a blow.

"Like I said, I love you. I do. And it...it kills me to see the way you were last night. You never would've gotten to that point, if you hadn't drunk so much. And you know deep down, that is true."

I did. I so did.

"What you need right now isn't a guy," she said quietly. "You need help."

You need help.

Those words recycled over and over in my head. And she hadn't stopped there. She'd talked about meetings and therapy and getting to the root of my problem.

I was like a chunk of ice, by the time I left her room and started gathering up my stuff.

You need help.

My brain couldn't shake those three words, couldn't let them go. I felt like I was going to be sick. Like at any given minute, I could just hurl all over the shorts, I was stacking in my suitcase.

You need help.

Was it that bad?

Was I that bad?

I'd just made a stupid decision last night. Well, a stupid decision, fueled by other dumb decisions, that were rooted in a whole bunch of idiocy.

If I could just stop making dumb decisions, I'd be fine.

I had just shoved my undies into the suitcase, when I felt a presence behind me.

I didn't need to turn around, to see who it was. I just knew. It was the guy, that I apparently didn't need.

"I really don't want to talk," I said, when he didn't speak.

He remained silent for a long moment and then said,

"I think that's the problem. You never want to talk, when you really need to talk."

I laughed hoarsely.

"Jesus!"

I slammed my makeup caddy into the suitcase and whirled around.

I noticed he had changed from earlier, wearing jeans and a worn shirt, that clung to his broad shoulders.

"Is today the day, when everyone tells me all about all my problems? Because, if so, can we fast forward to the part where I say, none of this is fucking news to me?"

Sam blinked, taken aback.

"Okay. Look..."

"No. There is no okay or looking." My voice shook. "We've ruined this for them...well, not you...I've ruined this for them. So nothing matters...the trip is ruined. Okay? And there's really nothing I want to talk about right now."

He opened his mouth and then closed it.

Another long moment stretched out between us, and in that time, I wanted so much...so damn much.

I wanted to redo this whole trip...and our whole freaking relationship.

I wanted to cross the little distance between us and throw my arms around him, because, it wasn't that I needed him...I wanted him.

I wanted to tell him that I was sorry, but I wasn't sure what I was even sorry for, or what I wasn't sorry for.

And all I did was stand there and stare at him.

"Okay. You don't want to talk. You don't want to figure out what's going on between us. I respect that," Sam said. He exhaled loudly. "That's why I'm not going to force this. I'm not going to chase you down, once we leave here. You can come to me when you're ready, and if you don't? Well, that's a damn shame, because, I think, that no matter what is going on in your head, we could have something real between us."

My tongue wouldn't move.

My jaw was locked down, because, whatever San thought we had between us, would swan-dive out the window, when he really got to know me.

His shoulders rose with another deep breath, as he rubbed the palm of his hand over his chest...above his heart.

His voice was flat when he spoke, and his gaze distant, almost cold.

"Later, then."

He left the room, without so much as a glance back. And I closed my eyes, holding my breath, until my lungs started to burn.

Then, I went beyond that moment, right up, until when I had to drag in air.

'Later' didn't sound like a promise. 'Later' sounded almost like a goodbye. 'Later' was totally expected.

Just as I thought, the ride home was a sad and awkward affair.

There were no long or teasing looks between Sam and I. And Caleb wasn't grinning at us in the rear-view mirror.

Shay had her nose buried in her e-Reader, and that was about the only thing, that was similar to the trip up.

The sky was overcast and cruddy, and as we drew closer to Maryland, it started to drizzle.

Sam was the first one to be dropped off.

He climbed out, hesitating, as our eyes met, and then he closed the door.

I pressed my lips together and told myself not to look, when he walked out from behind the car with his duffel bag, but I did, anyway.

I looked up, peering out the window, just as he stopped by my side, and tapped the window. He didn't speak to me, not that I was expecting him to, but my chest still ached.

After a few seconds, he then moved on to Caleb's window and said,

"I'll text you later." And then he was off.

When Caleb pulled up in front of my apartment, Shay followed me upstairs.

I stepped inside, suddenly weary to my very bones.

Dropping my suitcase just inside the door, I faced my very closest friend.

Neither of us said anything, and I almost said the things, I'd never said to her before.

But, "I'm sorry," was all that came out of my mouth.

Her smile was somewhat sad, as she said,

"I know."

The next few days flat-out sucked.

I spent them in my apartment, ignoring the calls from my mom and dad. I knew nothing had happened, because, if so, Roderick would've showed up.

I just wasn't in the mood to deal with them.

They mean well, of course, but I never felt like they were proud of me, whenever I got off the phone with them.

Their disappointment always lingered like a festering wound.

I slept most of Sunday and Monday away, holed up in my bed.

At some point during that time, I decided I needed a dog or a cat. Weird and random, but I thought then, maybe my place wouldn't seem so cold and empty.

By Tuesday afternoon, I'd ventured out of my bedroom and ended up spending the majority of the day, roaming around my apartment aimlessly.

So much was floating around in my head, and I wanted to talk to Shay, but I didn't want to bother her.

Although she hadn't said she was upset, I knew she had to be. And I didn't blame her. I was pissed at myself.

I needed a change.

Standing in my living room, I took a drink of the beer, I had left in my fridge, while I turned in a slow circle.

I ran my fingers through my hair, slightly frustrated.

Suddenly, I didn't like where the TV was, and that was an easy fix.

Over the next hour, I moved the television to the other side of the room, dragged the couch across the floor, and rearranged the leaning bookshelves.

My arms ached as I studied the walls.

Maybe I needed to paint. It wouldn't be the first time. I'd gone through at least three different colors, since I'd moved in, and now, I was regretting going back to the sandy beige color.

Maybe that's what I'd do tomorrow.

I still had a couple of weeks before classes started, and I wasn't volunteering right now, so obviously, I had time. Plenty of time.

You need help.

Sleep last night was elusive, even with the help of the sleep aid and the three beers I'd drunk.

I hadn't meant to drink that much, and I wondered, if it was somehow counter-effective to the sleeping pill.

I shouldn't have taken it, but I kind of forgot that I'd been drinking, when I popped it in my mouth. Or maybe I just didn't care.

I lay in bed, unable to shut my head down.

I kept picking up my phone, but who would I call?

Shay would be asleep, and I couldn't call Sam, but damn, I wanted to. But I had no idea what to say to him.

He'd told me there might be something real between us, but he...gosh, he deserved better than this...better than me.

So I played a game. Then I checked Facebook. Then played another game. Finally, around four in the morning, I drifted off to sleep, not really even looking forward to tomorrow, because, I figured, it would be like today. Today sucked, much like yesterday and the day before.

I slept most of Wednesday away, but it wasn't a useful type of sleep.

I never seemed to hit a deep enough level and when I did, I dreamt of being in a house, and I couldn't find my way out.

In the dream, I wasn't alone, but I could never find the person who was there with me. They seemed one step ahead, and I was simply lost, never finding the correct door...the one that would let me out.

The quiet moments were getting to me.

Around six, I drank the last apple-cider-flavored beer, but that didn't relax me.

Nothing was on TV, and I dismissed the idea of rearranging my bedroom. The only thing left to do, was to get the paint. At least I could do that.

Maybe I'd invite Shay over, and we could have a painting party.

I could get one of those cheese and meat platters. And I could also get a slew of hot guy movies...movies with Theo James, Jude Law and Tom Hardy and other hot British dudes.

Were all of them British?

I didn't know. Their voices were hot and that was all that mattered.

Grabbing my purse and keys, I headed out to where my Lexus was parked and made my way to Lowe's.

Before I headed in, I texted Shay a quick rundown of my plans and then found myself standing in front of a million and one paint choices.

Well, crap!

I probably should've decided on a color, beforehand.

It took a God-awful amount of time, before I settled on a charcoal gray and even longer, to find someone to mix the damn paint.

Two hours had passed, by the time I'd made it back to my car and into the grocery store down the street.

And it wasn't until after I picked up the yummy summer sausage dish, that I realized, I hadn't heard my phone ding.

Sitting in the parking lot, I dug my phone out of my bag and saw that Shay had texted me back.

Not 2night. Maybe this weekend.

Disappointment rose so swiftly, and it was like being caught in a summer storm.

I stared for so long at the text, the words blurred. Then I tossed the phone back in my purse and I sat there, staring at the empty car across from me.

Now what in the hell was I supposed to do with the summer sausage?

I probably should've checked my texts, before I'd bought the stuff. I rolled my eyes. God, that was stupid.

Anger flashed through me like a strike of heat lightning.

It was irrational.

I had no reason to be mad at Shay. It wasn't like this was planned. And it wasn't like she had a need to hang out with me, after this weekend. It wasn't like...

I cut those thoughts off, dug my phone out of my bag, and then sent her a quick 'okay'.

My attention wandered back to the car truck.

I couldn't go home. I'd go crazy, if I went back to my apartment.

I didn't even remember driving to the bar, that we usually hung out at together.

With college not back in yet and being the middle of the week, the place was pretty dull.

As I crossed the floor, I'd danced on more times than I could remember, I grabbed one of the many empty stools at the bar.

"Hey there," the bartender moseyed on up, smiling. He was cute, but older and I think he recognized me. "What can I get you?"

As I played with my phone, I considered a beer.

"How about a Long Island?"

"Coming up." He wiped his hands on the towel. "Tab, or pay as you go?"

"Pay," I mumbled, as I dug out my wallet. Seemed ridiculous to run a tab on a Wednesday night.

My eyes watered, when I took the first sip of the Long Island Iced Tea. Goodness, it was strong, but I slurped it up, welcoming the burn, as it blazed down my throat and chest.

I finished off the drink and then ordered a beer, as I glanced around the bar.

A few guys were by one of the two pool tables. One of them looked vaguely familiar, but my gaze moved on as I drank.

At the other end of the bar, were two middle-aged men. They looked...tired.

"Another?" the bartender asked.

Surprised, I glanced up at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Drink." He gestured at the bottle with his hand. "Do you want another? You're out."

My brows furrowed as I glanced down. Holy crap! I was. When in the world did that happen?

"Sure," I said. "Just one more."

The words seemed to laugh at me, because, when he showed up with the drink, he also placed a glass of water in front of me.

Wednesday night and I was at a bar...alone. At least my tummy was warm.

I glanced down at my phone, as I thumbed through my contacts. Abruptly, I stopped, when I got to Sam. Was he working?

I bit down on my lip. He'd told me to call him when I was ready to talk, but that was the big question. Was I ready? Because talking...

My thoughts were derailed, when the sounds of the bar increased around me, and I remained staring at his name.

Talking went beyond him and me, didn't it?

Talking meant being honest about more than just us. I mean, after all, I was sitting...

"Hello."

I jolted at the sound of a male voice and looked up.

A guy around my age stood beside me. He was kind of cute, I thought, as I stared up at him, and I noticed, he was one of the guys from over by the pool table.

I glanced around, not entirely sure he was talking to me. I guess he was.

"Hi."

He leaned against the bar, grinning.

"It's been a while."

'It's been a while?'

"Um..."

Reaching out with one arm, he tapped mine.

"I haven't seen you around lately."

'Oh crap!'

Did I know this guy?

Something was telling me I knew this guy...didn't I?

He cocked his head to the side and then laughed under his breath.

"You don't remember me, do you?" He laughed again, and I felt my cheeks start to heat. "Man, wow!"

I winced.

"I'm sorry..."

"Nah, it's okay. It was a wild night. Lots of tequila." He winked, and my stomach dropped so fast, I thought it fell out of me. "You drinking tonight? I can get you a drink."

'Oh my God!'

Understanding smacked me in the face, with the force of a baseball bat.

Vague and wispy memories surfaced of him...and his truck...his truck that smelled like fast food. And I had...

I averted my gaze, suddenly sick to my stomach. And an ugly tide of embarrassment washed over me, suffocating me with its severity.

I should've stayed home, stuffed my face with summer sausage and cheese, and painted the damn walls myself.

Except the walls...the walls weren't the problem.

I didn't need a change of my surroundings, I realized. Rearranging my living room wasn't going to change anything. Painting my apartment wasn't going to do it. Getting a pet wasn't going to make me any happier.

I needed to change.

"Babe," the guy cooed, reaching out and brushing the back of his hand across my cheek. "You still here?"

Jerking back from his touch, I grabbed my phone, shoved it into my bag and slipped off the bar-stool.

"Sorry. I have to go."

I didn't look back as I rushed outside and all but darted into my car.

Breathing heavy, I climbed in and hit the button for the engine.

"Holy fuck! Shit! Damn!"

My heart was pounding, as I pulled out of the parking lot, heading for the interstate.

And I just kept repeating those words, over and over. Holy fuck! Shit! Damn!

I clenched the steering wheel to stop my hands from shaking, as I merged onto the highway.

It was virtually empty...so fucking empty.

I started to shift over to the other lane and headlights suddenly appeared in the rear-view mirror.

My poor heart lurched, as I jerked the steering wheel to the right.

Everything happened so fast.

My car veered sharply to the right...too sharp. I tried to over-correct, and panicked, slamming my foot down.

The car lurched and the back started to spin. Lights spun and I dragged in a breath to...

A thundering force stopped the car and lifted it up.

Metal crunched and gave way.

I was tossed forward and to the side, suspended for a moment, until something white exploded.

Powder flew everywhere, yet, the crunching kept coming, like giant jaws eating away.

Lights burst behind my eyes and then there was nothing...total blackness.

Stay safe!