Hey guys! I know I updated yesterday, but I wrote this chapter so fast that I needed to update, not that that's a bad thing. This is considered the climax of the story and you can read and find out why. For those who are desperate to know who the mysterious stalker is, you're finally going to find out! In addition, I'm thinking of a sequel. Let me know what you guys think! As always, read and review. Show me some love! On one last note, for those who are wondering, most of the places in the story are made up. I literally look at a map and pick streets. Lol.

Nine

Billy's Delicatessen

Lafayette Street and Astor Place

Lower East Side

"I'll have a Reuben with onion rings," Sam said politely to the waiter.

They were eating at Sam's favorite diner. He called it his go to place after a night of partying. It was a cozy place with a 1950s feel, with its red leather booths and checkered linoleum floors. The name was Billy's Delicatessen and, according to Sam, they made the best sandwiches and burgers in the whole city. They were sitting in a secluded booth in the back by the kitchen. There was a framed photo of James Dean and Marilyn Monroe on the wall above them. They were the only ones in the diner.

The waiter jotted down Sam's order on his notepad and then turned to Mercedes. He was tall, lanky, with greasy black hair and large pointed nose. "What are you having miss?" he asked. He spoke in a thick foreign accent, the kind of accent that was ambiguous and hard to figure out. He looked tired and uninterested, but he looked as if he was faking a little interest in hope of getting a good tip. The poor guy was probably tired and wasted from the worst job known to man.

Mercedes glanced at the menu once more and pursed her lips in thought. She didn't know what she wanted. There was a shrimp dish that she liked and oogled, but moved on because of its hefty price. Sam insisted that she get anything she wanted because he was treating her, but she didn't want to rack up a bill, especially on something like food. She wasn't dying of hunger like Sam apparently was, but felt a little peckish since she hadn't eaten since eight last night. After mulling over the menu and flipping a few pages, she decided on a plain burger with curly fries.

"I'll have a burger with curly fries," she replied. She closed her menu and gave the waiter an amicable half grin.

The waiter jotted down her order and flashed them a smile. It was an awkward, lopsided grin that looked forced. He turned to leave and made his way to the kitchen.

"You're the first girl I've met who actually orders real food," Sam mused, taking a sip of his Sprite. He had his hand cupped on his cheek and gave her a dreamy GQ smile. His deep blue eyes glimmered and it made her weak in the knees.

Mercedes didn't know whether or not it was an insult or a compliment. Was he saying that she was fat? Or was he saying that she wasn't another anorexic Barbie doll who ordered nothing but salads and water? She decided on the latter. Sam wasn't the mean type. Plus, he was so into her that he wouldn't dare insult her.

"Thanks."

"It's really hot."

Her cheeks burned at his statement. He thought she was hot. Sam the Sex God thought she was hot, even though she didn't look like a supermodel. He was the first guy who thought she was more than pretty. Shane called her pretty and, sometimes when he wanted something, he would call her beautiful, but never hot. She wanted to squeal and do backflips, but gave him a smile instead.

"Really?" she asked shyly. Sam just knew how to make her blush. She wasn't as much as a diva around him.

"Definitely!"

He took another sip of his soda and winked at her. "I've never asked...but do you have a boyfriend?" he asked curiously.

"Had a boyfriend."

He raised an eyebrow and leaned closer as if she was telling him a juicy secret. "What happened?"

She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. She told him the whole story of her and Shane, everything from the sex rumor to Santana's cruel prank. She watched as a look of shock overtook his face and the way he kept clenching his jaw as if he knew Shane.

"What an epic asshole!" Sam cried, slamming the table. Mercedes nodded her head silently. She needed to change the subject.

"How many girlfriends have you had?"

Sam suddenly frowned and looked down to his lap. "One."

She blinked at him incredulously. There was no way Sam the Sex God only had one girlfriend. He looked uncomfortable about the topic. Mercedes assumed it was a heartbreak. Guys weren't as cold hearted as they tried to seem. "It's true. But, we broke up."

Sam told her the story of the New Year's breakup and her jaw dropped with shock. What a bad way to break up! She didn't know how she felt about being the rebound girl, but she dismissed the nagging feeling tugging at her. After all, she was kind of on the rebound too with everything that happened with Shane. They were both on the rebound and at least they found each other.

The waiter came back and placed a plate that consisted of a humungous burger and a large portion of curly fries in front of her. Sam squirted a healthy serving of ketchup on his onion rings. He unwrapped his napkin and placed it on his lap. Mercedes munched on a few fries while Sam took a big bite of his sandwich. They ate in silence for a while. It was relatively silent, except for the chewing of food and the faint Rockabilly music that played from an authentic jukebox by the bar.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam asked, breaking the extremely awkward silence.

"I dunno. What are you thinking about?" she rebutted, shrugging her shoulders.

They stared at each other and Sam gave her a meek smile. "You."

He reached over and ran his thumb over the side of her mouth. He then brushed a lone strand of hair out of her face. Her face tingled at his touch and, in slow motion, he snuggled back into his side of the booth. He wiped his hands on his napkin.

"You had ketchup on you lip," he explained. He did a wiping motion on his lip.

She didn't know whether or not she was more embarrassed by the fact that she wanted faint or that she had ketchup on her lip.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Mercedes wiped her fingers with her napkin and slid out of the booth. She needed to check her hair and lip gloss. "I need to go to the restroom."

Sam gave her a smile as she turned to leave. "I'll be here," he called.

The bathroom was red and white, with pictures of old Hollywood actors and actresses littering the walls. It smelled like fresh lilacs and was a far cry from the bathroom where she had her first sexual experience. She washed her hands and studied herself in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her bangs and applied an even layer of gloss on her slightly chapped lips.

She smiled giddily at herself. This was undoubtedly the best night of her inherently short teenaged life. Although she was going to get her ass handed to her by Mr. Shue, she met the best guy ever. Sam was crass, vulgar, and had a really smart mouth. Yet, he was really sweet under his macho exterior, not to mention he was really hot. She wanted to thank Rachel for getting ridiculously drunk and making a fool out of herself when she finally found her. Without her, she and Sam would've never met. It was crazy that she was falling hard for a guy that she barely knew.

She couldn't help but think of the inevitable. It was almost four thirty and she and Rachel had to be at Penn Station by seven thirty. There were only three hours left and she was leaving New York and Sam behind. She didn't know what she was going to do about the whole liking Sam thing. They were going to be hundreds of miles apart and she was going to miss him. They could always Skype, but it wouldn't be the same as holding his hands and letting him caress her fingers. She was just going to try to make the best of the rest of their time together.

She gave herself a final once over in the mirror and, once satisfied, left the bathroom. She was naively humming the opening verse of Human Nature, when she stopped dead in her tracks.

She stopped before she made the turn and slid out of sight, clutching to the wall.

Mercedes nearly fainted at the sight of her stalker walking into the restaurant. The stalker unwrapped the headscarf and blonde curls cascaded down her back. Her red lips were knitted into a frown and her hazel eyes were set in a death glare. She was beyond gorgeous and looked like a supermodel. She opened her mouth and began to scream at Sam.

"Who is she?!" the girl cried.

He got up and began to talk to her. He put his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. Mercedes inched away from the little corner, in order to hear the commotion.

"Calm down!"

The stalker jerked away and grabbed him by his jacket. It looked like she was pleading with him. He shook his head and broke free from her grasp. Then, the stalker looked straight at Mercedes hiding behind the corner. The stalker took a second to examine Mercedes, her nose stuck in the air in disgust. Almost immediately, Mercedes once again slinked out of sight. The stalker smirked and pounced on Sam. She threw her lips onto his, and to Mercedes's shock, he was kissing back.

Her jaw dropped to the floor and she felt as if she had just been sacked into the stomach. Her head began to spin and she felt the sudden urge to vomit. She wanted to kick herself for being so blind and lovesick. He used her! The supposed guy that thought she was hot had used her like a Kleenex tissue. The stalker was obviously Sam's supposed ex-girlfriend that he claimed was history. The girl was probably following them because she knew Sam was two timing her. He made up the whole New Year's breakup story.

Everything he had said and done was all a lie. He only offered to help her find Rachel because he wanted to get in her pants. She should've listened to herself from the beginning instead of being so easily seduced. Mercedes suddenly felt so insecure about herself. There was no way a guy like him could genuinely like a girl like her. It just didn't work that way. Sam looked way better with the stalker than with her. Her now ex-crush was a chauvinistic asshole. She should've looked right through the smoke and mirrors.

Trying to hold back her forming tears, she stormed towards them. The stalker broke the kiss and gave Mercedes a cheerless smile. Sam immediately turned around. There was lipstick staining his lips. His eyes were wide with bewilderment. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mercedes put her hand up. She didn't want to hear the folly excuse he was going to come up with.

"You used me Sam!" Mercedes cried accusingly. Her voice was cracking and she swallowed the large lump in her throat. This hurt worse than what Shane did to her before the trip. She was destined to be alone. She now wished that she had turned Rachel down and none of this heartbreak would've happened. She was better off not knowing Sam. He was too good to be true. She had just been played.

The stalker shook her head with pseudo sadness. "Yeah he did honey. I'm his girlfriend," she said matter-of-factly. She crossed her hands across her chest. Mercedes wanted to claw the girl's eyes out, but it wasn't her fault. Sam was to blame for everything.

"No she isn't!" Sam pleaded.

Mercedes couldn't believe it. He wasn't backing down from his lie.

"Uh...yeah I am," the stalker retorted.

He turned to her and looked as if he wanted to punch her. "Shut the fuck up Quinn!" he snapped.

They began a screaming match. Sam was telling her that they weren't together while the stalker claimed that they were.

Mercedes didn't know what to believe. She couldn't help but lean towards the stalker, even she spent the whole night terrorizing them. She was dizzy from the screaming and wanted it to stop.

She threw her hands in the air. "I've heard enough!"

She grabbed her jacket from her seat and pushed past them. She looked over her shoulder at Sam and said, "You two are made for each other."

She had gotten herself caught in a twisted relationship with two really weird people. And with that, she left and never looked back.

"Wait!" Sam called, trying to catch up with her.

Mercedes ran out of the diner and disappeared into the night. She could find Rachel and the Slices on her own. She didn't want to see him again.

Sam's heart shattered as he watched helplessly at his crush leave. He was sure he was never going to see her again. His agony soon turned to anger. He wanted so badly to slap Quinn straight across the face, but practiced self control in not doing so.

Quinn was again trying to crawl back into his life when he was more than ready to forget about her. He was finally over her. She was bringing him down and trying to turn him into something that he wasn't. He was a free spirit and carefree and she wanted him to conform to society. With Mercedes, he was himself. Mercedes accepted him for who he was. She was just what he needed and, because of Quinn's lies, she was gone.

"What the fuck Quinn?!" he hollered. He balled his hands into fists and was beet red from anger. She was sticking true to her promise that he'd pay for breaking up with her, even if that meant ruining his chances with another girl.

Unfazed, Quinn gave him an arrogant smirk and crossed her hands over her chest. "Where'd you get this one from?" was her simple question. She frowned and shuddered at her next reply. "Harlem? the Bronx?"

Sam took an angry step forth and poked her chest with his finger. "She's more beautiful than you'll ever be!"

Quinn let out a fake laugh at his comment. She rolled her hazel eyes with contempt. "Stop lying to yourself Sam and admit the truth. We're meant to be together. We're Barbie and Ken." she paused and pursed her lips, flicking her hair in the process. She was eerily calm and distant.

"That so called girl is a gorilla."

Blinded by rage, he grabbed Quinn by the jacket and pulled her close. He was going to smack her square on the cheek. He was going to break his childhood own rule of not hitting girls. How dare she talk about Mercedes like that?

"You're strong," Quinn whispered huskily with a girlish giggle. She was getting turned on by his masculine bravado and that shocked him. This girl was so crazy. How could he have been with her so long? She was officially a crazy bitch.

Then, the owner of the diner, a bulbous Italian man with a bald head, dashed to Quinn's side and pulled Sam off of her. He pushed Sam so hard that he fell flat on the floor.

"You have some nerve kid," he spat. He looked like he was ready to fuck Sam up. The guy was short, but was at least three hundred pounds and could easily pummel him.

He turned his attention to Quinn. "Are you alright miss?" he asked, his voice suddenly soft and sweet. Quinn gave him an innocent smile as she stared at Sam. She was doing what she did best.

She thanked him and brushed herself off. "I know you want me," she snapped.

The owner gave Sam a look of warning and retreated back to the kitchen. She was still smirking like she had won this little game.

He picked himself up and threw an a hundred dollar bill on his plate. "You're pathetic," he growled, malice dripping in his voice.

Sam shook his head in disbelief. He needed to get away from her. He wanted nothing to do with her. He just wanted to find Mercedes and tell her the real truth. She was probably lost somewhere and there was nothing he could do.

"You'll be back Sam!" was the last thing he heard when he left.

He needed to get away and calm down and he knew the perfect person and thing that could help.