DISCLAIMER: Look on first chapter.

Hey all! I'm going to California for the first time this weekend-so there won't be any updates until Monday of next week. I'm going to try and post one before I leave Friday morning, but it might not happen. Haha. But to make up for it-I'm writing out a super long chapter (chances are it'll be about 20+ pages instead of the usual 13-15) and it'll be packed full of Samcedes and JLynn. These next two chapters have been envisioned in my head since Chapter 1. I'm so excited!

We're almost to the NEW YORK episode, people. Who's stoked?

Last thing: I was wondering if someone could create a banner for this story that I can post on Tumblr. As a prize, the winner will get the first New York chapter a day in advance. :) Just post your design on Tumblr and PM a link to me!

My tumblr website: iamtellnoone (follow me!)

And you can find me on twitter too! Username: StephanieITA (I love to talk, haha.)

Happy reading! :D


May 9, 2011 (Monday)

McKinley High School

Lima, Ohio

7:46AM

Mercedes walked into the school practically dancing with excitement. Auntie Lynn had called her last night to let her know that the Evans family would be moving into her house this morning. She was so happy for them. It was about damn time that they got out of that motel room—and even though she hadn't been able to do it herself; Mercedes was glad that her aunt did.

She had actually been planning to ask her parents if they could move into the pool house—but when she realized her feelings for Sam; she didn't think that would be appropriate and she doubted her parents would go for two teenagers dating in the same house together.

She would've forced her hand if they got kicked out, but Lynn had taken care of that without a word of input from Mercedes. But now she could finally give Sam the gift she'd been creating over the last month. He was going to love it!

Mercedes speed-walked down the hallways to get to Sam's locker—she couldn't wait to see him this morning. Truthfully, she had missed him on Sunday. She had gotten used to talking to him everyday—last week was an exception, but he had more than made up for it with that kiss—and she wanted to tell him about her aunt's house.

They would get to spend time together, regardless of whether she saw him this morning or not—there was Glee club afterschool and she'd offered to give him a ride to Lynn's house this afternoon while talking to her aunt.

Mercedes rounded the corner and spotted Sam's bright blond locks from afar. He was wearing a dark green long-sleeved shirt with horizontal white stripes and a pair of light wash jeans. The shirt was a bit snug and the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows—Mercedes thought he looked sexy.

She stared at him for a moment as he tossed books into his locker—still unable to believe that he was into her, but she wasn't going to let that disbelief stop her from being with him. She walked forward with a huge smile on her face.

"Sam!" she said as she reached him. She wasn't expecting him to tense at the sound of his name. He turned to look at her and she was taken aback by the look in his eyes. She had seen it only once before—about four weeks ago when his mom walked out. That look threatened to stop her heart.

"Hi Nala," he replied softly. Sam reached out and touched her cheek—seemingly unfazed by the fact that they were standing in a busy hallway where anyone could see them. Mercedes' breath caught in her throat when his fingertips brushed her skin. Holy crap, this guy had her in knots.

The brief touch almost paralyzed Mercedes, before she responded to it by leaning softly into his hand. Sam gave her a sad smile when he pulled away a few seconds later.

"Blondie," Mercedes began, "I thought you'd be happy. No more motel—a room to yourself, a computer? What's got you so down?" She watched as he put his notebook into his backpack and tossed his brown bagged lunch into his locker. Sam looked at her for a second.

"How'd you find out about that?" he asked—his brow furrowed and Mercedes gave him a teasing look.

"Lynn is my aunt," she said, "Not by blood, but by love. That woman adores me, and she knew we were friends so she called me up—asking what your favorite color is and everything."

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise and Mercedes was happy to see the spark of interest in his eyes. "You know my favorite color?" he asked and Mercedes gave him a sarcastic quirk of the lips.

"Yes," she said, "It's red."

Sam blinked at her and she decided to answer the unspoken question in his green eyes, "You told me during lunch a few weeks ago—it was like one of the first things we talked about." Sam's slight smile meant the world to her; even though she wanted to blush now that Sam knew she had the tendency to retain everything he told her about himself.

Great memory seemed to come with the whole crush on the best friend thing.

"At least I'm not the only one," Sam said as he zipped up his backpack. Mercedes lifted an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. "I'm pretty sure that I know every trivial thing that a person should know about you."

Mercedes had to grin at his confidence—even though she could clearly see the blush rising on his cheeks.

"Like what?" she questioned. She was curious to see if he actually did know all that he said he did. Most guys didn't really listen every time a girl talked, but Sam wasn't most guys.

Sam turned to his gaze to her; his left hand still resting on the shelf of his locker. "Your favorite color is green. You love spicy Barbecue ribbed chips—the natural ones instead of Lays. You can barely stand oatmeal raisin cookies, but you love sugar cookies with colored frosting. You hate cupcakes. You love to swing. You love the Die Hard movie series and you have a secret weakness for romantic comedies. Your favorite food is tater tots and chicken nuggets—though you never admit to the last one. You hate McDonalds, but you can't get enough of Wendy's. Your favorite video game is Call of Duty and your current favorite song is "Halo" by Beyonce—though you love Demi Lovato's music, but you rarely talk about it."

Mercedes was gaping by the end and Sam was giving her the most intense look she had ever seen. She could hardly believe that he'd remembered all of the little things about her that she'd been telling him over the last few weeks.

Sam looked slightly amused as he closed his locker door. "I do listen to you when you talk, Mercedes," Sam said softly as he stepped closer to her. She couldn't help but look up to meet his green eyes. They looked so sad and so loving at the same time that it took everything in her to resist pulling his head down and kissing him. "I don't think I've ever been this interested in a girl's life before. I drive myself crazy wanting to know more. And I enjoy every second of it."

It was official—they needed to change the subject before Mercedes' heart beat out of her chest or she jumped Sam in the hallway. For a dork who supposedly had no game—Blondie knew how to use his words to induce some serious dirty thoughts and feelings.

"And if you don't want me to kiss you in the next minute or so, I suggest you take two steps back," Sam said and Mercedes' eyes widened. Damn it Blondie!

Taking those two steps backwards was the most difficult thing the diva had ever done in her life—resisting him felt like she had run the world's longest race.

She wanted those lips on hers and she wanted them now!

Mercedes had to forcefully calm herself down and focus on the problem at hand: Sam's sadness.

"Okay," she said shakily—desperate to regain her bearings. Macking on Sam while in the school hallway was a bad life choice. Now, she just had to tell herself that over and over again. "Why aren't you excited to go stay with Lynn?"

She'd known that he avoided the question before—he did a pretty good job of it too, but Mercedes was used to calling people on their bullshit. And she knew how to read Sam like a book. By the sigh he gave, Sam knew the jig was up as well.

"I am excited to stay with Lynn," he replied as he shut his locker door. "I like being around Lynn. I-it's a long story, and we really don't have the time to talk about it before—"The bell rang in the middle of Sam's sentence and he finished lamely, "the bell rings."

Mercedes couldn't help but see the sadness and anger in his eyes. He needed someone to talk to, and she made the first potentially bad decision of her life. "Let's skip first period," she said suddenly and Sam gaped.

"Are you serious?" He asked. "You've never cut class!" She kind of wished that she hadn't shared that little tidbit of information with Sam. He'd teased her good naturedly about the fact that Mercedes hadn't skipped class a single day in her life. The only reason she missed school was because she felt sick—and she had to be bedridden. So, she was an academic nerd—to each their own.

"I know that, Blondie!" she hissed at him, before she grabbed his hand and pulled him down the now empty hallway.

"Then why are we doing it?" he questioned and Mercedes stopped in her tracks. Sam crashed into her back, before she turned around to look him in the eye.

"Because you need to talk about this," she replied, "One missed class period—where the teacher naps anyway—isn't going to kill me."

The gratitude she could see in Sam's eyes made her positive that this was the right thing to do. He nodded at her and she felt his fingers thread through hers. The action caused butterflies to skyrocket through her stomach and her face felt extremely warm.

Damn good looking blonds.

Mercedes turned on her heel and continued pulling Sam forward. "And I know you're only okay with this because you can probably get notes from one of your friends in that class," Sam whispered.

Busted.

The look of embarrassment she gave him over her shoulder had Sam laughing softly. She had known that she could ask her friend Charlotte for the notes from class, but she didn't want to admit to it. Mercedes had to smile at his amusement though.

She pulled Sam into the auditorium. No one ever used it besides the Glee club anyway.

It felt right. This was their spot—the place where their friendship first began. They both felt safe here. Mercedes and Sam were still holding hands when they sat down together on the edge of the empty stage.

Mercedes tugged at Sam's hand until he followed her unspoken directions and laid his head in her lap. She ran her free hand through his hair and it wasn't long before Sam started talking. He told her everything about his mom and how he was feeling towards her. He told her about his dad and the motel manager and moving in with Lynn. He just spilled everything that had been on his mind lately.

Mercedes just listened. She ran her fingers through his hair and just made sure that he knew that he had her undivided attention. On the inside, Mercedes was pissed as hell.

The more she learned about Elizabeth Evans—the more she wanted to go and cut the bitch. She couldn't believe that a parent could do that to her children. And she hated seeing how it affected Sam. He was so hurt—so hurt that she knew it pained him to even think about.

Mercedes didn't have a clue as to what to do about it and it was driving her insane. She cared so much about him, but she was powerless in this situation. She was mature enough to admit that as much as she sympathized with him—she couldn't empathize. She had no idea how it felt to be abandoned by someone so important.

She didn't have words to help him through this. The only thing she could do was stay by his side and be there for him. But in times like this—when his green eyes were clouded with tears—that simply being there didn't feel like it was enough.


May 9, 2011 (Monday)

The Motel Six

Lima, Ohio

8:14AM

Jeffrey pulled into the parking spot at the motel and got out of the truck feeling world weary. He smiled though, when he spotted Lynn sitting on the hood of her car. She was wearing a snug lavender tank top and a pair of dark blue jean shorts with some white Toms on her feet. Her bangs were pulled out of her face with a sparkly purple clip and she was wearing those pearl stud earrings again.

She grinned when she saw him and hopped off her car. "Hi darlin'," she greeted as she walked towards him and wrapped him in a hug. Jeff held her tightly for a moment—happy that Lynn was such a tactile person. When she stepped out of the embrace she gave him a look full of understanding.

"How'd it go last night?" she asked and Jeff gave her a sad smile.

"Lots of tears," he admitted—the sight of his children looking so distraught and hurt was burning a hole in his mind, "They were really hurt about everything. Sam was angry and he felt betrayed. I can't even begin to think about what I'd do to that woman if she ever came back."

Lynn touched the side of his face and Jeff let out a deep sigh. "Everything will get better," she promised, "It might take awhile and there will be plenty of tears, but you're going to get through this—we're going to get through this."

He had to smile at her confidence. He was thankful that one of them had it. "Step one is to get you the hell out of this hotel room," she began as she moved away from him and put her hands on her hips. "And step two is me giving that douche bag manager a piece of my mind." There was an evil glint in Lynn's eyes that had Jeff laughing and slightly afraid at the same time.

She started to march off, but Jeff grabbed her arm. "As much as I'd like to see you bitch out the motel manager—I think us moving is more important. He's not even worth your time." He told her and Lynn pouted for a moment.

"I had my whole rant planned out too," she grumbled causing Jeff to laugh as he led her into the motel room. It was the first time that Lynn had been to the motel, and he could see the sympathy on her face as soon as she walked inside. But she didn't say anything; she just shook off the sadness and clapped her hands together.

"I brought a ton of boxes with me—they're in the backseat of my car and trunk," Lynn said as she glanced around at the random piles of stuff along the walls. He was kind of embarrassed, but it wasn't as if they'd had the time or money to buy boxes for moving. "I also have sharpies, duck tape, labels, and cleaning products."

Jeff stared at her for a second. "You used to this kind of thing?" he asked and Lynn laughed.

"The storage in my shop has been organized and reorganized multiple times since the day it opened," she told him, "I always have this stuff. " Jeff was amused by that fact, and Lynn smacked him on the arm.

"I know you're making fun of me in your head, so you can stop it right now." She told him and Jeff chuckled. They journeyed back outside to get the boxes from the car, and Lynn carried in her basket of moving supplies.

They got down to work immediately. Lynn set up and labeled four large boxes with Sam, Jeff, Stacey, and Stevie on each one. They decided to go through clothes first and anything too damaged was tossed onto the trash pile just outside the door.

It took them about an hour to go through everyone's things—Lynn had a ball laughing at some of the underpants Jeffrey had. He of course blushed like an idiot whenever she found his boxers.

Jeff knew that Sam would be just as mortified when he found out Lynn had seen all of his underwear. They spent the next two hours packing knick-knacks and things that Jeff wanted to keep—but he separated the stuff by child—everything they owned went into their own personal set of boxes. In the end—everyone ended up with a large box of clothes, a medium box of toys or sturdy personal effects and a small box of breakable items.

Lynn and Jeff huffed and puffed getting the nine larger boxes stowed in the back of Jeff's truck, and Lynn carried the smaller boxes to her car's trunk. They spent one more hour—picking up trash, cleaning out the fridge and kitchen, making the bed, cleaning the floors; until the room was spotless.

As Lynn packed up her stuff, Jeff went to go check out of the motel. He gladly handed the key over to the motel manager with a disgusted smile on his face. Jeff walked out of the man's office with his head held high and when he saw Lynn standing by her car—her curls blowing slightly in the wind and a grin on her lips—he really felt like his life was changing for the better.


Unpacking with Lynn was hilarious. He had known she was organized, but she was fretting over doing laundry and all kinds of crazy stuff. He couldn't believe that she wanted to talk about chore lists as they hauled boxes up the stairs.

Apparently she had taken his advice yesterday about keeping it systematic and age appropriate, because the chart she showed him was legit. He had to admit that he was impressed by it. None of the kids got more than about twenty minutes of chores a day, and none of them were crazy like wash the ceiling or something.

Not that he'd expected that of her, but you never knew. They were common things—like take out the trash, put dishes in the dishwasher or take them out, clean the bathroom—and no one had the same chores every day; they all cycled through them. Lynn and Jeff were on there too, which surprised him, but he thought it kind of adorable—especially since she was fidgeting nervously beside him like she was afraid she'd upset him.

He only gave her a sideways hug and told her that it was great. The relieved sigh she let out as she slumped into the embrace made him laugh. Then she had shown him all that she'd done last night. She picked out a room for each of them—Sam's was red; Stacey's was a light blue and purple; Stevie's was green and Jeff's was a deep burgundy. Their names were on the doors, and she had apparently gone out to the store and bought things that matched the rooms—since she usually kept white sheets on everything.

All Jeff knew was that Stevie and Stacey would flip out when they saw their rooms. Lynn had gone all out with flowers, and these cool retro design stickers and a double sided pink and orange bed spread. She'd put an outrageous number of decorative pillows on the bed.

His little girl was going to freak out—she would love it; he knew it. When he saw the soccer and softball posters on the wall though, he asked her about it. Lynn looked mortified when she revealed that she'd pretty much interrogated Mercedes about them last night.

He just stared at her in shock, before he swept her up into a hug. Lynn was too kind for her own good sometimes. As if letting them live in her home for free wasn't enough—she had to make them feel as though it was their home too.

Stevie's room was a science fanatic's heaven, and she admitted that Mercedes had something planned for Sam's room so she'd left it alone—except for buying a plaid bedspread and pillows.

When all of the boxes had been put in the correct rooms—Lynn started doing laundry. And Jeff headed out to go pick up Stacey and Stevie from school.


May 9, 2011 (Monday)

McKinley High School

Lima, Ohio

3:21PM

They had two more Glee club meetings before they left for New York on Wednesday morning, and they still didn't have any songs written. Mercedes could tell that Mr. Schue was getting nervous about it—but he also seemed distracted. She couldn't tell if she was pissed that everyone had more important things to do than write the songs they'd be performing for Nationals, or if she was mad at herself for being one of those people.

She glanced over in Sam's direction. He was sitting quietly beside her, a frown marring his features. They'd ended up staying in the auditorium until third period. Sam had wanted the redness of his eyes to go down before they left the room.

She still remembered his hand on her waist as he stopped her from walking out and how he had leaned down and ever so softly pressed his lips to hers. She could still feel the tingles that had raced up and down her spine. The kiss had ended too soon for her liking, but the bell had rung and they had to leave to get to class.

Seeing him now—he just looked angry. Mercedes looked away from him when Mr. Schue clapped to get their attention. The curly-haired teacher opened his mouth to say something, but Sam interrupted him.

"Mr. Schue," Sam called and the teacher glanced at him.

"Yes, Sam?" he asked and Mercedes watched his head rise to meet the teacher's eyes.

"I have a song that I'd like to sing," he replied and Mr. Schue frowned.

"That's great Sam, but we really need to focus on Nation—"Sam interrupted the man again.

"Please?" Sam asked—and Mercedes heard his voice crack. She apparently wasn't the only one because Mr. Schue nodded at him. Mercedes watched Sam stand up from the top risers and walk down the steps.

Instead of picking up his acoustic guitar—Sam grabbed the electric from the stand and shared a few words with the band members in the corner. He hooked it up to the amp, and stood in front of them.

"This song is called "I Don't Love You" by My Chemical Romance," he said and Mercedes' heart sped up in her chest. Did he mean her? Was he ending this before it even started? The tears sprung to her eyes so suddenly that she almost missed his next words.

"It's for my mother."

And Mercedes' heart stopped. She saw the shocked reactions from the other Glee club members, but no one had time to say anything as Sam started playing.

The chords sounded angry and sad at the same time. He didn't look at any of them as he began singing, "Well, when you go; don't ever think I'll make you try to stay. And maybe when you get back; I'll be off to find another way."

Sam's face was twisted and Mercedes could feel his pain from where she was sitting. The expressions in the room varied between horrified and depressed.

"And after all this time that you still owe," he sang—his voice was shaking, "You're still the good-for-nothing I don't know. So take your gloves and get out;better get outwhile you can."

The music got even more intense and Sam's voice was almost a scream as he voiced, "When you go would you even turn to sayI don't love you like I did yesterday?" He strummed the guitar angrily and Mercedes could see his eyes welling with tears as he moved towards them. His movements were jerky and furious as he played.

"Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading," he sang, "So sick and tired of all the needless beating but baby when they knock you down and out. It's where you oughta stay!" Sam's voice was raw and low as he continued, "And after all the blood that you still owe. Another dollar's just another blow.So fix your eyes and get up; better get up while you can."

"Whoa, whooa," he yelled and the pain in his voice tore at Mercedes—she wasn't even aware of the tears that were falling from her eyes as she watched him sing his heart out. "When you go would you even turn to sayI don't love you like I did yesterday?"

"Well come on, come on!"He yelled and he flew into a furious guitar solo. He was stomping his foot on the ground in time with the beat and his dancing amplified the rage in his expression.

The music suddenly softened as he sang, "When you go would you have the guts to sayI don't love you like I loved you yesterday?" Sam's voice was soft and rough—she could see the tears streaming down his face. His green eyes looked so hurt that Mercedes knew that this was his way of dealing with it all.

"I don't love youlike I loved you yesterday," he voiced—his voice full of heartbreak and despair, "I don't love you like I loved youyesterday." When he played the last note, Sam's expression completely crumbled.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, before he put the guitar down and walked from the room. Everyone in the choir room was crying. They had all felt the murderous rage and pain that Sam had been feeling, but the only one who knew the whole story felt like she was falling to pieces.

Trying her best to hold her tears in, Mercedes grabbed Sam's forgotten backpack and her own bag, before she walked out of the room. She didn't say a word to anyone else as she left.


Mercedes found Sam sitting on the sidewalk by her BMW. She walked over to him and knelt down in front of him, before she pulled him into a hug. And then she couldn't stop crying. "I thought you were talking about me when you first started," she admitted through her tears and she felt Sam tense.

"No!" he told her firmly as he pulled back to look into her eyes. "That song wasn't about you at all—"Mercedes interrupted him.

"I know—I just got so scared when you first started talking—"

"Nala, no, absolutely not," Sam looked freaked out and incredibly guilty as he pulled her back into his arms. "I'm so sorry—I didn't even think."

They were both panicking and freaking out and babbling that Mercedes couldn't help but choke out a laugh as they clutched each other. Sam glanced at her in surprise. "We sound like a couple of crazies," she told him with a giggle. Sam froze, before he started laughing too.

When they calmed down, Mercedes asked, "What made you do that?" And Sam avoided her gaze.

"I couldn't keep it in anymore," he confessed quietly, "There's so much hurt and anger inside me that I had to let it out somehow—and I chose the only surefire way I wouldn't end up severely injured or dead."

"I'm glad you did," she said, "I prefer you both uninjured and alive. Plus, you playing the electric guitar is sexy. I call dibs on private shows." Her last sentence was said with a teasing grin on her face.

"I was crying!" Sam protested in amusement and Mercedes quirked her lips at him.

"Well, no crying during private shows, okay?" she replied and Sam let out a laugh.

Mercedes couldn't resist burying her head in his shoulder. Sam always smelled so good—like a mixture of Irish Spring and deodorant, but there was a soft scent that was purely Sam. She couldn't describe it, but it made her nose twitch in joy every time she was close enough to inhale it.

"Are you sniffing me?" Sam asked—his voice bemused and Mercedes blushed as she looked up at him.

"Yes," she replied, "Got a problem with it?" Sam laughed lightly.

"Not really," he told her, "but this may be a problem during football season. I'll have to take multiple showers after practice."

Mercedes' heart skipped a beat. He was thinking about them as a couple in the future? Well, three months away, but in high school time that was like ten years. She couldn't help but beam at him.

He grinned back. "We should probably move soon if we don't want to get caught," he told her and Mercedes pouted. She didn't want to move—who knew being held by someone was so comfortable, but she knew he was right.

They got themselves off the ground and Mercedes unlocked the doors of her BMW. "Get in, Blondie," she said as she walked around the vehicle, "I'm taking you to Lynn's house."

Sam did as told. He tossed his backpack into the back seat and did the same for Mercedes as she started the truck. They both buckled up and Sam looked over at her. "What's her house like?" he asked and Mercedes smirked.

"You're gonna love it!" she told him as she backed out of the parking spot, "And she has this gorgeous dog named Marley—the most adorable dog ever. Reminds me of you, actually."

"A dog reminds you of me?" Sam questioned in disbelief.

"Well, he's got light colored hair and he's cuddly and—you know what—I don't have to explain this to you," Mercedes said—she was grateful for her chocolate complexion, because she would've been bright red if she hadn't been.

"You can't just say that I'm cuddly—and not explain the rest of it," Sam argued and their conversation fell into teasing and bickering throughout the whole drive.


May 9, 2011 (Monday)

Lynn's House

Lima, Ohio

4:11PM

Sam's first impression of Lynn's house was that it felt homey. Mercedes had a key to her front door, so she let him inside and Sam just stood in the entranceway—looking around at everything. It was very different from the Jones Estate.

The house only had two floors for one thing, but he liked it. The front entranceway spread out about fifteen feet of cherry oak flooring and it led to an incline that had a hallway going along both directions.

Square pillars were spaced evenly around what Sam figured was the living room space, and the hallway tapered off into an archway on the far right that led to the kitchen and the hallway faded into another archway on the left side, but Sam could see a staircase through the opening that led to the second story.

Off to his immediate right was a small bathroom, and that was just what he could see. Mercedes took him around to a basic tour of the house—he liked it more and more with every room he found. Lynn liked warm colors—deep purples, browns, tarnished gold, dark oranges.

He thought it strange, but he felt safe in her house.

That could've also come from the fact that he hadn't been in a place so large since he spent the weekend at Mercedes' house. She led him upstairs and when he saw Stacey and Stevie's rooms he was surprised at how well they fit his siblings. It only made sense when Mercedes admitted to telling her about them.

Sam appreciated the fact that Lynn had gone through so much trouble to make them feel at home. He also noticed the half-way unpacked boxes in the kid's rooms and he couldn't wait to see his.

When he opened his door and saw the walls—he was happy. One wall had a pattern of evenly spaced red stripes and the rest of the walls were a solid red. The bed had a blue, gray, black, and red plaid comforter set on it And he saw the boxes in the corner of the room—along with a basket full of freshly folded clothing.

"Did she-?" Sam stuttered and Mercedes laughed at the look on his face.

"Yeah," Mercedes replied, "She probably washed your clothes—and packed some of them too. You'll probably get some more whenever she finishes the next load that we found washing."

Sam blushed furiously. He couldn't believe that Lynn had seen his unmentionables! There was enough blackmail in that to last him a lifetime—and crap, she probably saw his numerous Batman boxers.

He looked at Mercedes, dismayed and quite humiliated. She just burst into giggles as he slumped down onto his bed. He forgot his embarrassment when he noticed how soft the queen bed was and he took the time to sprawl out on it as he glanced around.

The desk in the far corner with a lamp and an empty bookshelf next to it; the shelves above his bed that were still empty; the open closet that had packs of new hangers hung on the bar; the cherry oak dresser in the far right corner next to a window that stretched all the way across the wall with the stripes.

He even had his own personal bathroom! The disbelief was setting in as he just looked around in wonder.

Sam took it all in. "It feels so weird," he admitted and Mercedes quirked an eyebrow at him in confusion. "It's been so long since I've been in a room for myself—that it's strange to realize that I don't have to share the same rickety old bed with three other people. And our stuff doesn't have to be shoved against the walls."

He felt Mercedes' compassionate gaze on him and he gave her a smile. "I'm so grateful that I don't even know how to begin saying thank you," he told her and Mercedes tugged on a lock of his hair.

"Lynn isn't expecting anything from you," she replied, "As long as you keep working as hard as you do to make your life better—and her knowing that you will be safe and fed every night, I promise that that is thank you enough for her."

Sam smiled at her, before his gaze was caught by a large box in wrapping paper. "What's that?" he asked and Mercedes followed his gaze to the corner. He saw her eyes light up before she grinned down at him.

"That's my present for you," she told him and Sam's eyebrows shot up, "I've been working on it since I found out about your situation."

What on earth could have taken that long? He stared up at her and Mercedes just gave him an excited grin.

"I told myself that I would give it to you whenever your family moved into a living space," she said, "And now that you have—I thought it was a good present for you."

He looked between her and the gift-wrapped present for a few moments. "You should open it," she encouraged him and Sam nodded. He took his backpack off his shoulder and put it on the desk chair, before he made his way to the present.

It was a huge box, but it wasn't heavy. He lifted it easily and placed it at the foot of his bed, before he tore into the wrapping paper eagerly. Mercedes laughed at his enthusiasm.

And when Sam got to the gift on the inside—he wasn't gonna lie—he hadn't expected to see what appeared to be twenty or so rolled up posters. He lifted one out of the box and untied the ribbon wrapped around it. The tube unrolled itself and when Sam turned it over to see the front—he yelped.

Sweet Avatar!

Sam couldn't help gaping. He couldn't be seeing what he thought he was. Sam glanced over at Mercedes in disbelief and she started laughing at the look on his face.

She had gotten him a collector's edition Star Trek poster! Sam was trying really hard to keep his inner dork under control as he gingerly laid the poster down on the bed, before he pulled out another.

Each poster had a different sci-fi theme—and they were all of Sam's favorites: Star Trek, Star Wars, Spiderman, Batman, Superman. His excitement was pretty much through the roof when he got to the last one—the biggest poster in the batch—and when he saw that it was an Avatar poster—Sam actually jumped in the air screaming, "Yes!"

Mercedes was dying of laughter especially when he looked at the bottom of the box and saw Avatar: The Collector's Edition DVD and an autograph from James Cameron on the cover.

Sam was so happy that he was struggling to hide his tears as he held the DVD gently.

"Mercedes," he choked out—he couldn't believe that she had done this for him. He couldn't believe that she remembered all of his sci-fi addictions.

Sam was speechless. He placed the Avatar DVD on his desk, before he walked over to Mercedes and pulled her into a fierce embrace. "Thank you so much, Nala," he told her and Mercedes wrapped her arms around him.

"No problem, Sam," she replied and Sam finally let her go. He stared into her sparkling brown eyes and he couldn't resist leaning forward and kissing her.

Her lips were just as soft as the first and second time they'd kissed, but this time he wasn't thinking about anything but how good she felt and smelled and how amazing she was. He held her hips in his hands and used his tongue to swipe across her bottom lip.

Mercedes jerked away with a gasp, and Sam blinked at her in confusion. She looked terrified and shocked.

"What was that?" she asked and Sam's eyebrows shot up.

"I was kissing you," he said slowly and Mercedes stared at him.

"But—your tongue—oh my god," she said—and Sam could see the panic in her eyes. It took him a minute, but he finally figured out what was wrong. He almost gaped at her, but he resisted.

He should've known. Mercedes had admitted that she'd never dated anyone before—how could he have not figured out that she hadn't kissed anyone either.

"You've never French kissed anyone before, have you?" he asked and Mercedes' expression swiftly changed to dawning comprehension and then extreme embarrassment. She looked away and shook her head.

"I'd never been kissed by anyone before last Thursday when you kissed me," she confessed and Sam's heart clenched at the shame he could hear in her tone. He stepped closer to her tense form and grabbed her hands.

"It doesn't matter, Cede," he told her honestly and Mercedes shot him a look. She looked like she was about to burst into tears of humiliation.

"Yeah," she snapped, "It doesn't matter that I just freaked out when you tried to make out with me. I'm so pathetic that I didn't realize what was going on until I pulled away."

"Mercedes stop," Sam said firmly as he leaned over to try and catch her eyes. "I don't care about that."

And he really didn't. It didn't matter to him that she'd never made out with anyone before. He just wanted to be with her.

"I'm such a child," she whispered and Sam released one of her hands to touch the side of her face. When she didn't respond to his touch, he applied pressure until she turned her face towards him.

"You're perfect the way you are," he told her honestly and Mercedes looked at him in surprise. "At some point in everyone's lives—they'd never been kissed before either. It doesn't make you pathetic or childish." Mercedes looked surprised—and Sam was happy that he could make her see that she wasn't alone.

"I freaked out when I first made out with a girl," he admitted sheepishly—he could feel his cheeks turning pink and Mercedes gave him a small smile. "It just means that I'll have to teach you."

He could feel her embarrassment, but also how grateful she was that he didn't walk out of the door because of this. "Are you serious?" she questioned as she met his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her nose.

He laughed when her eyes crossed and her nose wrinkled. "If I wasn't serious—I wouldn't have said it," he told her and Mercedes' brown eyes danced. He couldn't help the outbreak of butterflies that blasted in his stomach. He wasn't sure what he had done right—but if he could get that look; he hoped he did it again soon.

Their moment was interrupted by a door closing downstairs and a voice called, "Mercy, darlin'! Are you here?"

Sam and Mercedes looked at each other for a moment, and Sam took the chance to kiss her softly once more. Mercedes grinned at him when the kiss ended.

"I look forward to those lessons, Sam," she told him quietly and Sam's eyes widened at the rush that spread through his body after she spoke. He didn't know what it was about Mercedes Jones but she had him wrapped around her finger and tied up in a knot.

He wasn't going anywhere.


REVIEW! I'd love to hear your thoughts. Until next time! :D The lyrics in this chapter belong to the song "I Don't Love You" by MCR.