I think the main reason I had so much trouble updating this is because I'm trying to stall from the angst. But I can only do it for so long (like a couple more chapters). Anyway, hope you enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes I missed.

Sam lay in his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He could hear Stacey and Stevie running around outside his door and he closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound. He just got out of the shower and felt drained from the night's dinner conversation. Mom had the porch cleaned, so she was happy about that, but now she was complaining about some Negro who'd hesitated too long to move when she needed a seat on the bus home. Apparently it was an old lady, but she didn't care. She went on about it for an hour, and now he was happy to be alone.

If the circumstances were normal, he'd be able to call the girl he considered to be his girlfriend on the phone and complain about his parents and ask how her night was going and talk for hours like they did when they were together in the forest. But circumstances weren't normal, and he couldn't just call her and risk her parents answering the phone. Or could he?

He sat up and looked around searching for his pajama pants. He spotted them thrown over his desk chair, walked over and pulled them on. He then opened his bedroom door to see that his little siblings weren't running around anymore and crept downstairs to the den. He was pretty sure everyone was upstairs, so he'd be fine. He sat at his father's desk and grabbed the phone, dialing the number he memorized as soon as she told him. She told him never to call her, but to have it in case he one day really needed someone and she'd be there for him. He waited as it rang, and when she answered, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Who is this?" she asked when he didn't respond.

"It's me," he said, biting his lip. He heard her gasp and there was shuffling before she said anything else.

"What's going on? Is everything okay? Is someone dead?" she asked.

"No! No…I just wanted to talk to you."

"What?"

"I wanted to hear your voice," he said.

"I told you never to call me!" she whispered harshly.

"I know, I know and I wasn't going to, but…wait, where are you?" He heard her move around a lot.

"I'm…in a closet," she responded. She sat on the floor of it with her legs crossed and the telephone in her lap and the cord squeezed in the closed door.

"Oh," he said. He would have asked why, but he knew the answer.

"Why on Earth would you call me, Sam? Are you looking for trouble?"

"I think we already established that."

She sighed and rubbed her temple.

"I have to break up with you," she said.

"What? No! I'm sorry! I'll hang up!" She couldn't help but smile a little.

"Sam…I have to break up with you if you're going to be reckless like this. You can afford to maybe, but I can't. What if my parents had picked up? What if your parents are listening now and they can tell I'm colored from my voice?" she asked.

"There's no phone upstairs, so they're not," he told her.

"That's not the point. It's like you're not trying here."

"I just want to talk to my girlfriend."

"So I'm officially your girlfriend?"

"You were my girlfriend in my head as soon as you kissed me back," he said. She smiled.

"That's…great, but you can't do all the things you'd normally do with me. It's not easy like that. And that stinks, but you chose this. And so did I, but I'm not the one making calls here," she replied.

"I know. Okay, I won't call you again," he said.

"Thank you. You're seeing me tomorrow, remember? Santana's going to cover for me," she told him, smiling at the thought of actually spending the day with him.

"I can't wait," he said, leaning back in the chair and playing with the cord. "You may lose your virginity, so wear something comfortable."

"Sam!"

"I'm kidding. Unless…"

"Goodbye."

"Bye Mercedes," he said, hanging up and biting his lip.

He sat up straight when he heard his father coming down the stairs and smiled when he turned the corner into the den.

"What are you doing in here?" Mr. Evans asked, raising an eyebrow. Then he noticed the phone pulled into his lap. "Who were you on the phone with?"

Sam was a bad liar. Always had been. So now, looking his father in the eye, he knew that if he tried to lie it would backfire, making him suspicious, which was the last thing he needed. Besides, he could be a little honest; there was only one part he'd have to leave out.

"Um, a girl."

"A girl, huh?" his dad asked, grinning and leaning on the doorframe. "Are you back with Miss Fabray?"

"Um, no."

"Oh, so this is a new girl. Congrats, son. Maybe this time she'll be smart and see what a catch you are, eh?" Sam smiled and nodded.

"I think she's real special."

Sam drove for a long time, occasionally looking down at Mercedes. The passenger seat was pushed back as far as it would go, and she was on the floor. Whenever he would steal a glance at her, he'd find her already staring.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. Where are we going?" she asked.

"Somewhere we can be alone. Don't worry; you can get up in about five minutes. I'll be off the main road and no one's ever around this area."

"Don't I get a last request?"

"Will you stop? I'm not going to kill you."

"Seems pretty suspicious," she said, even though she was smiling at him.

"It's better than the diner or somewhere like that," he replied. She sighed and leaned against the door, knowing he was right. They'd go there if she actually wanted to be killed. No joking about it. She started thinking about it and her expression quickly turned sad. He looked again and noticed this.

"Hey. We're not gonna talk about all that. This is me and you, going to spend time together somewhere we can escape that evil. Come sit up here," he said, turning onto a dirt road. She hesitated before climbing up into the passenger seat.

"Wow," she murmured, looking at the trees lining the road and reaching up above them, nearly blocking the sky.

"Yeah, it's somethin'."

Soon he drove off of the road and stopped in front of a small lake. It was surrounded by trees and deserted. She got out and went by the water, just taking in the environment. She heard him moving around behind her and turned to find him laying out a blanket by the car.

"Since everyone always goes to the diner when they start going steady, I thought I could bring the diner somewhere else," he said, taking several white paper bags out of the backseat and a couple styrofoam cups he was grateful didn't spill. "So I present to you, Mercedes Jones, burgers and Cokes."

She laughed and shook her head, walking over to him. He was spreading it out over the blanket. He even brought condiments for the fries.

"I don't really know what to say," she said when he finished and smiled up at her.

"Well sit down first so I can romance you," he replied.

They ate in silence. The burgers were still warm and delicious, but she started to feel self-conscious eating hers because his eyes were glued on her, even as he ate his own.

"It's weird with you staring at me," she said. His gaze didn't falter at all.

"Want me to stop?" he asked.

"Yes, please."

"Sorry, no. You're too pretty."

"Charming," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Honestly, though. Especially out here. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen." He was still staring, and he'd finished his food.

"You should get your eyes checked. Ask someone like your mom how pretty I am," she told him, putting the rest of her food in a bag.

"My mom needs her brain checked," he responded. She smiled, afraid to agree with him. That was his mother.

"Did you bring dessert?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Of course," he said, crawling over to her. She raised an eyebrow and he took her hand in his before leaning in and capturing her bottom lip and sucking. She was surprised, but it didn't stop her from pushing his chin up and participating in the kiss. He pulled away and she almost whimpered.

"What time do you have to be home?" he asked.

"Nine." She caught herself staring at his lips, even as he spoke.

"That gives us two hours to kill. Gee, what do we—"

He was cut off by her lips back on his and her hand grasping the back of his neck. This Mercedes who took control of the situation was new to him and may have not been a good thing. It was doing things to him. She leaned back and he followed her until she was pressed against the blanket. His hand rested on her waist and his tongue moved across her lip. She'd never French kissed, but she instinctively opened her mouth for him. His hand moved upward, eventually resting on one of her breasts. She didn't tense or push him off and he thanked whatever God there was for that.

"You're so soft," he said, moving his lips to her neck. Her fingers went to his hair, and he knew he was done for.

"What…" she started, sitting up. He moved off of her and turned red, already knowing what the problem was.

"Sorry…it just happened…"

"Oh," she said, averting her eyes from the thing she'd felt against her thigh moments ago.

"Did I ruin this? I'm sorry, I just…"

"It's alright." She looked him in the eye and smiled, but it faded quickly and was replaced with blush and lip bite. "Do you think I could see it? I've never seen one not in a book." His eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"You want to…are you sure?"

"Yes. For future reference." He blushed and nodded, unbuckling his belt then unbuttoning his pants. He looked to her to see if she changed her mind. She was staring intently. He pushed his pants down and rolled back his underwear, sighing when he was exposed. Her breath hitched and her eyebrows rose.

"Definitely bigger than the one in the health book," she mumbled, reaching out to touch it. He stopped her.

"You shouldn't."

"Oh. Right."