DISCLAIMER: On First Chapter.
I know you guys are missing the JLynn, but they'll be in the next chapter. :D I promise!
May 19, 2011 (Friday)
McKinley High School
Lima, Ohio
11:57AM
Mercedes thought her brain was going to melt inside her skull. She'd taken four of her seven exams so far and she was sure that she was going to pass out from academic exhaustion. On every test, she worked up until the last second they'd been given—and Mercedes had practically convinced herself that she had failed every one of them.
She was standing in the doorway of her classroom—reviewing her notes for her next test as she started walking down the hallway. She glanced up at the people she passed from time to time, and they all looked either ready to cry or say fuck it and leave.
Mercedes was a dangerous mix of both.
She had calculus, history, and English left. They were her three hardest exams—and she had never felt less prepared. She scanned the notes for her calculus test as she reached her locker, but before she could try to open it—her papers were taken out of her hand.
"Hey!" she exclaimed as she tried to grab the papers back. She turned to see who had stolen them and wasn't surprised to see her boyfriend standing there with a shifty look in his eyes.
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"Saving you from self-destruction," he replied.
"I'm a girl," Mercedes said in annoyance, "not an explosive, but if you don't hand over those notes—I'm going to give you the worst cuss out you've ever heard."
"Touchy, aren't we?" Sam remarked—and Mercedes shot him the stink-eye. "This is exactly why you need to take your mind off studying."
"I have a calculus exam in an hour, Blondie," she sassed back. Mercedes was not amused. She was going to fail this test and it was all going to be Sam's fault. "I need to study!"
"You've been studying practically every day for the past month, Cede," Sam told her, "And you know this stuff. I know that you understand everything in these notes."
"Sam—"
"Mercedes," Sam mocked and Mercedes stomped her foot before turning on her heel and storming away. She was on the verge of a total meltdown. Her eyes were burning with tears and her head was hurting—and she let out a squeak of fear when she was abruptly tugged into the empty auditorium by Sam.
"Samuel Evans!" Mercedes cried as the door shut behind her. She was pissed. "What the hell do you think you're—"Her words were cut off by Sam attaching his mouth to hers. For a moment, she considered pushing him off because this was still wasting precious time to study, but Sam's tongue traced her bottom lip and she opened her mouth to him with a soft moan.
He pulled her closer by the hips and Mercedes' hands ran up his neck until they tangled in the hair at the back of his head as he deepened the kiss. Making out had totally become her favorite pastime—Sam's lips were a godsend.
How she had lasted this long without doing this; she didn't know—she would never be able to not kiss Sam.
Sam kissed her until she was breathless.
And when they broke apart for air—Sam kissed down the side of her neck; his lips tickled her skin and it made her giggle. "Are you still mad at me?" Sam asked, his lips brushing against her ear. Mercedes laughed softly.
"I forgive you for pulling me into the auditorium," she told him, "but you're still in trouble for taking my notes."
"I'm not giving them back to you," he replied and she glared. Sam just kissed her frown away with soft brushes of his lips against hers. "And I'm not apologizing."
"Sam, I'm gonna fail—"
"No, you're not, babe," Sam retorted, "You just need to relax and take your mind off this. You've been working like a crazy woman all morning—some down time is good for you."
Mercedes sighed. Sam obviously wasn't going to let this go. "Are you sure that I'm ready?"
"I've never met anyone more prepared," Sam said honestly. Mercedes kissed him again.
"Fine," she relented, "What do you want to do for—"Mercedes took a moment to grab Sam's wrist and look at his watch, "—the next fifty minutes?"
"Everyone in Glee is meeting outside for lunch in five minutes," he replied with a smile. Mercedes nodded and made to walk out of the auditorium, but Sam stopped her.
"What?"
"I said five minutes," Sam told her, "that means I get two minutes to kiss my girlfriend breathless again."
Mercedes blushed, but she didn't argue with his logic.
May 19, 2011 (Friday)
McKinley High School
Lima, Ohio
12:16PM
Mercedes showed up next to the group sitting in the middle of a shaded patch of grass with Sam a few feet away from her. She had to laugh when she saw that Finn was literally stretched out on the ground. Sam hustled over and dropped down on the ground to sprawl out next to Finn.
"My brain hurts," Finn complained. Mercedes smiled as she sat down next to Quinn. Santana's head was in Brittany's lap and Brittany was running her fingers through her hair.
"I'm surprised your brain functions enough for you to feel anything," Santana cracked, "Much less pain."
"Rude as hell," Mercedes said sharply. Santana looked up at her from Brittany's lap and Mercedes quirked her eyebrow. "Yeah, I just called you out."
"Wheezy, I thought we were friends!"
"We are friends, Santana, but you seemed to have dropped your human form and summoned Satan back to the surface—I will never be friends with that," Mercedes told her—and Santana seemed surprised by how confident Mercedes was being. She just harrumphed, before turning her face back down and letting Brittany stroke her head.
Puck's loud groan of agony as he flopped face first onto the ground distracted them from the strange power shift that had just gone down. "I'm quitting," he exclaimed, "You're just going to have to learn how to love a dropout, Zizes." Once he finished speaking, Puck face-planted in the grass—successfully making the whole group laugh.
"You're not dropping out, Puckerman," Lauren responded as she laid down in the grass as well—her head next to Puck's. "If I have to suffer, you will too."
"I don't see why you guys are so stressed out," Brittany said, "I just guessed."
The judgmental looks everyone shot her went over her head, but Santana glowered—daring them to say something. By now though, all of them had learned to leave it alone. Brittany was Brittany and she wasn't ever going to change.
"This is cruel and unusual punishment," Artie remarked—taking a moment to flop in his chair. Tina patted his hand in sympathy.
"It's better than an entire week of exams!" Mike replied, "At least it's only one day of torture and then it's all over."
"I'm not sure I'll make it that far," Finn protested. "I just want to run away screaming at this point."
"Just think about the awesome time you're going to have at Mercy's house tonight," Quinn suggested and Sam waved a hand in the air as if agreeing.
"Speaking of," Kurt piped in, "Can I invite Blaine to this shindig? I haven't seen him since last Saturday and you guys seemed to get along well when you first met."
Mercedes wouldn't deny that she was a bit hurt. When was the last time she had hung out with Kurt? He didn't seem to remember that one, but Blaine—going a week without seeing Blaine was just unacceptable. She bit back the negative response that she wanted to respond with.
"That's fine," she replied—a bitter taste lingered in her mouth, but she'd smile like she always did and shoulder onward. Kurt beamed—as if Blaine being there would make this evening worth going. She tore her eyes away from him; there was no need to upset herself with the lack of friendship on his part.
Mercedes met Sam's slightly worried eyes and she gave him an almost imperceptible shake of the head. He nodded at her, but she knew he'd ask about it later.
"What exactly will we be doing?" Rachel questioned as she rested her chin on Finn's stomach.
"You'll see when you get there," Mercedes responded, "The options are limitless."
Quinn bit back a smile and Sam coughed loudly. Everyone looked at the three of them suspiciously, but no one asked any more questions as they began eating their food and just trying to recover from all that had gone down that morning.
Somehow—funny you-tube videos came up and all of them ended up crowding around Mike's laptop and watching stupid clips. The Beyonce clown had everyone in stitches. The atmosphere had lightened significantly, but when the bell rang—all of them groaned.
It made them laugh because everyone had made a similar sound, but they trudged off to their next exams dejectedly. Sam parted ways with Mercedes after a soft brush of the fingers and a whisper of good luck.
May 19, 2011 (Friday)
McKinley High School
Lima, Ohio
2: 54PM
Sam had turned in his textbooks. His regular student locker was cleaned out and all of his tests were finished. His junior year was over and he would be lying if he said that he didn't sprint out of the doors of McKinley and yell in a joyous manner.
Sam stood on the steps of the school and raised both arms slowly by his side. He punched a fist into the air and shouted, "Freedom!" He was surprised when he heard Mercedes' laughter from behind him.
Sam turned to face her—the smile on his face growing so wide that it hurt. "Cede!" he said as she walked to his side.
"You are crazy, Blondie."
"It's the last day of school, finals are over, and I've got awesome plans for the night!" Sam replied, "What could possibly make my day better?"
"Well, you could always come over to my house and help set up for the party," Mercedes offered and Sam shrugged his shoulders apologetically.
"No can do, Cede," he told her as he slung an arm over her shoulders. "I'm hitting the gym with Puck, Mike, Finn and Artie at four today."
She stared at him—the expression on her face incredulous. "You're going to the gym for fun?"
"Working out is a good time," Sam replied, "And plus, I've gotta look sexy for my lady." Sam flexed the bicep of his free arm and grinned when Mercedes stared for a moment, before rolling her eyes.
Sam poked her in the side and Mercedes laughed as she wiggled away from him. He reached out for her again, but stopped when he spotted Quinn walking towards them. "Hey Mercy," she said in greeting as she wrapped his girlfriend in a tight hug and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Sam was jealous for a moment, but he shook it off—knowing that she'd let him kiss her in public soon enough. He gave them both a smile and walked in between them. Sam tossed an arm over both of their shoulders as they walked down the stairs.
"I have to take off," he said, "I need to change into my workout clothes and then head over to the gym. I'll see you ladies tonight at the party."
Sam got twin kisses on the cheeks from both girls causing him to blush a bright red. It was really bad that he almost turned his head and kissed Mercedes right then and there. Sam knew she would kill him if he did, because that would bust their secret relationship wide open.
He let them go and waved goodbye before he walked briskly to his truck. He would have to work off a lot of excess energy today—so hopefully he could control his desire to kiss Mercedes tonight.
May 19, 2011 (Friday)
Jones Estate
Lima, Ohio
3: 22PM
Mercedes and Quinn walked into the Jones Estate, laughing. "Que, you are so wrong for that!" Mercedes told her friend as they walked towards the stairs—Quinn was holding her duffel bag and messenger bag in her hands.
"He looked like someone stole his cookies when he couldn't kiss you!" Quinn protested. "You need to let go of this whole secret relationship thing."
"I'm not ready for everyone in Glee to bring themselves into my relationship with Sam," Mercedes retorted as they started up the stairs. "We're having a good time together without all the drama of people sticking their noses where they don't belong."
Quinn shot her a look. "It's true that they'll probably be interested, but they respect you, Mercy. And they're not going to disregard that to mess with your relationship."
"People in Glee respect me?" Mercedes asked in disbelief as they stepped off the landing and walked down the hallway. "Since when? And why wasn't I notified?"
"They do," Quinn replied—her voice much less certain than before. "They just have a strange way of showing it."
"Yeah—they don't show it at all," Mercedes cracked as she opened the door to her bedroom. "Do you want to keep your stuff in your room or mine?"
"I'll just keep it in yours for now," Quinn responded, "We won't be in the bedrooms tonight anyways."
"For some reason—I doubt that statement," Mercedes said, "No one chooses to sleep on a couch when I have a huge bed like this upstairs."
"Well—you might want to take down all these pictures of you and Sam that you finally framed and put up," Quinn replied as she dropped her duffel on the floor. Mercedes glanced around her room and blushed.
She had finally gotten around to printing off all the pictures from their New York trip and she had taken great pleasure in framing all of them and putting them up all over her room. Quinn lifted the biggest framed picture from her bedside table and waved it in Mercedes' direction.
"This picture of you and Sam practically kissing might be a dead giveaway," Quinn joked and Mercedes rolled her eyes as she dropped her backpack on her desk chair. She unzipped it and pulled out her binders and notebooks.
"I'll put them away," Mercedes said as she unloaded her things and walked over to her bookshelf. "I can't believe how much summer homework they give out for AP students!"
"You're the crazy who's taking all advanced placement courses," Quinn replied as she started taking frames off the wall and stacking them on the bed. "Do you have a box I can put all of these in?"
"Uh," Mercedes said as she flipped through her folder for AP World History—the assignments were long and detailed and she was sure she would die this summer. She had seven classes like this and the summer homework was intense. "There's this big patterned box on the top shelf in my closet—all the way in the back by my winter dresses. It should be large enough to fit all of them."
"Alright," Quinn said before moving across the room and entering the overly-large walk-in closet.
"And I'm not crazy!" Mercedes yelled after her. Quinn's laugh echoed from the closet, before she came back out carrying the big box.
"You're the only person I know that's going to be taking all AP courses," Quinn replied, "They're too much work."
Mercedes sighed and finished putting all her school stuff on the bookshelf. She and Quinn moved around her room—taking down all the incriminating pictures of her and Sam.
"I want to do a lot of things with my life, Que," she said, "And I'm not sure exactly what that is."
"I thought you wanted to go into a field of science?" Quinn asked as she put about five more pictures in the box. "You said you were interested in forensics."
"I am, but now I'm leaning more towards biology and maybe even studying fashion," Mercedes replied, "I still want to do something with music, too."
"Is there a university that offers all three?" Quinn questioned as Mercedes put the last of the pictures into the box. It was practically full—and Mercedes didn't think her room felt right without her pictures of her and Sam. It was strange to think that he had become such a constant presence in her life that it felt wrong to hide him away.
"I haven't thought too hard about that," Mercedes admitted, "I know my mom is going to start talking to me about them this summer. Do you have any idea about what you want to study?"
Quinn laughed—the sound a bit derisive. "I never truly thought I'd be going to college," she told her, "After everything that's happened—I don't feel like I deserve it."
"Quinn," Mercedes said as she closed the lid of the box and hefted it off the bed. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"I don't want to get ahead of myself, Mercy," Quinn replied, "I need to think about now—and how I can get better before I lose myself in dreams of the future."
Mercedes motioned with her head to follow her as she walked back into the closet. "I understand that, Que—you getting better should be your top priority," she said as she and Quinn lifted the box up onto the shelf again and pushed it back into the corner, "but you should also have dreams—they make getting better seem worth it."
"I don't even know, Mercy," Quinn responded.
"All I'm asking is that you think about it," Mercedes stated—making sure that her eyes met Quinn's gaze. It was quiet for a moment, before Quinn nodded.
"I'll think about it," she answered and Mercedes pulled Quinn into a hug.
"Let's go get this place ready for a party!" she said when she stepped back from her soul-sister. Quinn brightened and they skipped out of the room together. Quinn pushed Mercedes in the shoulder once they walked out of her door and then took off running down the hallway.
"Quinn!" Mercedes shouted before chasing after her friend. They ran down the stairs—Quinn giggling and Mercedes cursing her playfully. Quinn jumped the last two steps of the staircase and Mercedes watched when she turned to run, but crashed face-first into Mercedes' father's chest.
Mercedes burst out laughing as Quinn blushed a bright red. David just chuckled, before Quinn threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He lifted her off the ground when he returned her embrace.
"What are you two little ladies up to?" he asked, setting Quinn back on the floor.
"Cleaning up and cooking for the party," Mercedes answered as she moved to hug her dad. "We've got so much to do in so little time!"
"I'm still not sure about this group sleepover thing," David replied.
"You were fine with it when I asked!"
"That's because I momentarily forgot that the boyfriend was included in this deal," he said and Mercedes blushed.
"Daddy!" she protested—Quinn started laughing.
"I agree," The blonde said, "They are quite interested in each other."
Mercedes smacked Quinn on the arm and she laughed. "Quinn!"
"Alright, alright," David said, "I'll let you two get back to work. But I'm keeping a stern eye on Blondie."
"I don't think you have to worry, Papa Jones," Quinn told him, "Mercy still hasn't told the others in Glee about her and Sam dating—so they can't do anything coupley without looking suspicious."
"Yeah," David replied—his tone still skeptical. "I'm still keeping an eye out."
David walked away after kissing both girls' foreheads. The two shared an amused look before they took off for the kitchen. As soon as they walked in they found Josh sitting a huge cardboard box on the floor. He glanced up and smiled. "You and your party supplies, Mercy!" he complained, "Ma has us carting enough food to feed an army out of her car."
"Is there anymore?" Mercedes asked.
"No—this is the last box," Josh replied. He motioned to the dining room as he stood up. Both of the girls glanced into the room—surprised to see all of the boxes all over the counter.
"Where's everyone else then?" she questioned.
"Jason, Derek, Kyler and I are heading to a friend's house tonight," Josh replied, before he moved over to hug both girls. "We thought about staying in and crashing your end of school celebration, but we thought it would be better if we didn't incite the wrath of the little sisters."
Quinn laughed—squeezing him tighter, before she let go. "Good life choice," she said, "There's going to be enough reactions from everyone who hasn't seen her house."
"Yeah, those moments are always hilarious," Josh replied as he stepped away from them. "I'll see you girls later! Have fun tonight, but not too much fun."
"Bye Josh!" Mercedes called as he jogged out of the door.
"Bye!" Quinn said. Delia walked inside right after the Josh walked out.
"Hello girls," she said as she placed her purse down on the marble countertop.
"Hi mama," Mercedes greeted before walking over and giving her mother a kiss.
"Hello sweetheart," she said. "Hi Quinn."
"Hi Mama Jones," Quinn said as she received a hug and a kiss from Delia as well.
"Are you girls ready to get some stuff done?" she asked with a smile and both Mercedes and Quinn nodded. "Why don't you turn on some music and we can get to work!"
"What about everyone else?"
"Well, your brothers are gone for the night, and Annabelle, Trey, and Jasper are spending the night with Lynn and Jeffrey. So the only ones in the house tonight are me and your father—and I say that all work should be accompanied by music—especially when you're preparing for a party."
Quinn and Mercedes laughed at the same time, before Delia turned on the house wide sound system by flicking a switch. They walked into the entrance hall and Mercedes unlocked the shallow cabinet on the wall. Inside was a smart screen with a huge iTunes playlist on it. The girls stood there and debated on what music to play before they settled on one of Mercedes' dance mixes.
The music swelled from the speakers and it put a smile on their faces to hear the entire house filled with sound. And then they got to work. Mercedes and Quinn carried boxes down into the basement while Delia started rolling dough for the homemade pizzas they'd be making later on tonight for dinner.
For three hours, Quinn, Mercedes and Delia cleaned and organized foods out into an array. Mercedes made sure that all of the batteries in the remote controls were brand new. They sang and danced and cracked jokes at each other as they moved about the large house—vacuuming, dusting, and making sure things were put away.
Mercedes had to fold like three loads of laundry and put them all away. Quinn was given Annabelle and Trey's laundry while Mercedes was stuck with her brothers' clothes, including their underwear. She folded a pair with a grimace on her face.
"You nasty," she muttered—making Quinn snort into one of Annabelle's dresses as she tried to smother her laughter. Mercedes solved that problem by tossing some at Quinn's head.
"Ew!" she said in disgust as she flung the pair away from her body. "Mercy!"
"That's what you get for laughing!"
The two ended up snickering, but they stopped playing around when Delia walked past the room. They quickly finished the laundry and took it upstairs to the different rooms. When they were finally finished with the cleaning—they were pulled into the kitchen to cook and form the pizza dough and chop toppings.
May 19, 2011 (Friday)
Jones Estate
Lima, Ohio
7: 24PM
When everything was done, Quinn and Mercedes had about thirty minutes to shower and change out of their dirty clothes, before people started arriving. Quinn actually went to her room this time—so they would be ready before anyone got there.
Mercedes showered quickly and got dressed—putting on a pair of gray sweat pants and a v-neck black t-shirt that had a shower of glitter crossing her torso in a diagonal. She did her hair in that curly, crimpy, wavy style that Sam loved so much, and slipped on a red cardigan with thin horizontal white stripes all across the red fabric.
Mercedes put on facial lotion and chap-stick and decided that was well enough. She slipped on a pair of black socks and her thick-framed glasses. She knew she was a tease, because Sam loved her hair like this and he also loved her glasses, but she'd make it up to him after everyone left the next day.
Once dressed, she spritzed herself with some light perfume and then left her bedroom after cleaning up after herself.
She met Quinn downstairs—the blonde's hair was still damp from her shower, and she wore a cotton gray t-shirt with some plaid pajama shorts and her blue sweater. The two of them sat in the living room—Mercedes' nerves acting up as the time passed by. Her cell phone rang and she immediately answered it.
"Uh, Mercy," Tina said into the phone, "I'm not sure that you gave us the right house..."
"Are you standing outside a huge mansion with an ornate door?" Mercedes asked.
"Yeah," Tina replied slowly. "Mike and Artie are here too. Should we run before the owners call the cops?"
"You're at the right house," she responded with a giggle. "Gimme a second."
When Mercedes opened the door—three faces stared back at her, completely gob-smacked. Their eyes only got wider when they focused on the large entrance hall behind her. "Come in, guys," she said. The three of them traded looks for a moment, before Mike rolled Artie through the door and Tina followed them.
"Oh my god," Tina said—her voice practically a squeal.
"This is your house?" Mike and Artie said at the same time—both of their voices reflecting the disbelief that both of them were feeling.
"Yeah," Mercedes answered. Quinn came out of the living room—sliding across the marble floor on her socks. She whizzed past them and caught herself against the front door.
"Finn and Rachel called me, well you—asking if they were in the right place and Kurt and Blaine are with them. Puck and Lauren are here too!" she called out to them, before she opened the door. The new arrivals all wore the same incredulous expressions that Mike, Tina, and Artie were wearing—with the exception of Kurt, who had already seen her house.
They came inside and the staring continued. Mercedes decided to let them regain their bearings before she said anything—it was quite the shock to see just how rich Mercedes was.
The doorbell rang again and Quinn opened it—Santana and Brittany were standing there, gaping.
"Wheezy, this is your house?" Santana exclaimed as she stepped inside—taking the time to drop her backpack on the ground next to the door. "Girl, why have I not been invited over for dinner? We needs to keep up the multicultural swag—this segregation of our persons is no longer acceptable. Okay?"
Mercedes laughed at her friend's speech. "You're welcome at my house, Santana—as long as you remember to leave Satan at the door when you walk in."
"That can be arranged," Santana replied, before pulling Mercedes into a hug. Brittany clapped her hands—apparently enjoying the display of friendship. Mercedes smiled at them both when the Latina pulled away.
Santana's show of friendship seemed to pull everyone out of their stupor. She was passed around for hugs and all of the bags ended up in a pile next to the door.
"Where's Sam?" Finn questioned and Mercedes' brow furrowed in slight worry. She hadn't heard from him since she saw him at school, but he promised that he'd be here.
"He should be here soon," Mercedes replied—not allowing her concern to show itself. "Why don't I give you guys the grand tour?"
There were nods all around. Mercedes turned on her heel and started walking away, but the doorbell rang. She stopped and Quinn came forward. "I'll take them," she said before she started walking down the hallway. Everyone followed her except Mercedes.
Mercedes watched as Quinn pointed out the kitchen and the living room and downstairs playroom before she hustled to the door and opened it slightly. Sam smiled down at her, but she held the door closed.
"You're late, Evans," she whispered and Sam chuckled—he dropped his bag on the porch and leaned his forehead against the door; sliding as close to Mercedes as possible.
"Annabelle wouldn't let me go!" he said, "It's your fault for having your little sister like me so much."
"So not only were you late—you were cheatin' with my sister," Mercedes joked—Sam blushed.
"She's so cute though!"
"Give me one good reason why I should forgive you and let you inside?" she asked.
"I brought kisses," he replied.
Mercedes playfully narrowed her eyes at him. "Chocolate kisses or real Sammy kisses?"
Sam dug around in his front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a handful of chocolate Hershey kisses. "I've got both," he told her and she laughed. Mercedes glanced over her shoulder to see where their friends were—and seeing their legs disappearing upstairs made her realize that the coast was clear.
She opened the door enough to slip outside and she left it open a crack. She turned around and was immediately pulled into a kiss. She hadn't kissed him since that surprise mack-session in the auditorium at lunch today and she'd missed his soft lips on hers.
They pulled away slightly—barely any space between their mouths. "I'm getting way too addicted to kissing you," she told him with a smile.
"And I'm getting a bit pissed that you're wearing your hair like that and your glasses," he replied, "You know how I feel about you in those two things."
"Yeah, I know," she responded—a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. Sam gave her the judgmental eyeball—she laughed.
"You tease!" he told her. "You know I won't be able to kiss you once we walk inside and you did it anyway."
"I'll make it up to you tomorrow," she answered and Sam pulled her into another kiss.
"Damn right you will," he said gruffly. Sam kissed her cheek and then her ear and held her close for a moment longer.
"We should go in before they get suspicious," Mercedes replied and Sam nodded. He kissed her one last time, before stepping away from her. Sam grabbed his bag and swung it over his shoulder as Mercedes walked inside the house. He followed her and shut the door behind them.
Sam tossed his bag on the pile next to the door and hung his sweater up on one of the coat hooks near the door. They chanced holding hands until they reached the staircase before they went up and caught up to everyone else. Between Quinn and Mercedes the tour of the house went quickly—everyone exclaiming over Mercedes' bedroom and how awesome it was. It was only when Mercedes showed them the basement that things got ridiculous.
Lauren had carried Artie down the stairs before Mercedes could tell her that there was an elevator, but the joyous cries that rose made her laugh instead of thinking about it too much.
She hurried down the stairs just in time to see Puck fall to his knees in front of the television. Finn was literally crawling to the shelves of games along the wall. Artie had up his gospel hand and Mike couldn't speak. He just gestured towards all of the game consoles and Mercedes was sure that his eyes were sparkling.
Mercedes had to do a double take towards Finn, because she could've sworn that his shoulders were shaking.
"Finn—are you crying?"
"How could you keep this from us, Mercy?" Finn asked—his voice thick and Quinn burst out laughing. Santana had been dying from giggles since they'd walked into the room.
"That's it—Mercedes' house is heaven and Jesus lives in the basement. This basement is Jesus' bedroom." Artie's voice was emotional and his hand hadn't stopped waving since he'd entered the basement.
"Is it bad that I want your TV to be the new torah? You know, so I can worship it." Puck was actually hugging the television.
"It's just so beautiful—I can't," Mike said—his voice high-pitched as he stared at the shiny PS3 on her shelf.
Mercedes thought she was going to die from laughter. "Oh, hells yeah!" Santana cheered—"Wheezy has a pool table and a space for me to kick some ass at ping pong?"
"I don't think I can leave," Finn moaned dramatically as he ran his hands along the spines of all the video games. He made a high-pitched sound in the back of his throat. "I might have to move in."
Mercedes laughed. "Boy, you need to stop!" she told him, "We have to get upstairs—there's food to make!"
"We're cooking?" Santana asked—her hip cocked. "What kind of five-star joint is this that we can't get any service?"
"This is a house," Rachel replied, "Not a hotel."
"No one asked you—"
"Satan is not welcome in my house, Santana!" Mercedes interrupted before her insult could be finished. Santana's lips pursed and she shot Rachel a condescending look, but she stopped talking.
Mercedes wasn't playing any games tonight. It was going to be an evening of fun without drama. She was determined to make it so.
"And you guys need to decide whether we're sleeping down here or piling in my bed upstairs," she said.
"Bed!" Santana replied immediately, "Does anyone really think I'm going to give up the chance to sleep with Queen of the Natural Knockers?"
Mercedes blushed furiously as everyone cracked up. "I say bed too!" Brittany said, "I've always thought Mercedes would be the best cuddler. Her boobs look awesome." The blonde fist pumped and Mercedes thought she was going to die of embarrassment.
"Bed it is, then," she responded trying to ignore the snickering that was going on between her friends. "Now, come on—homemade pizza time!"
She led the way upstairs—everyone following behind her. Finn had looked torn about leaving the games, but he was too hungry to stay. Artie was carried upstairs by Puck this time—Mike had his chair in hand.
Mercedes told them about the full house surround sound system that had been installed on their way to the kitchen and instantly Santana, Artie, and Puck were in front of the smart screen. She rolled her eyes but she lead everyone into the kitchen—her parents were already there, putting pre-made dough onto matte paper that rested on the countertop.
"Everyone this is my mother, Delia Jones," Mercedes said in introduction, "And this is my dad—David Jones."
Greetings chorused around the room before Mercedes introduced them each. "This is Mike, Finn, Tina, Blaine, Lauren, and Rachel. And of course you know Kurt, Quinn and Sam," she said. Everyone either shook her parents' hands or waved. "The three missing are Santana, Puck, and Artie, and they're bickering over the music."
Delia laughed—and only laughed harder when the argument between the missing three got loud enough to hear through the open doorway.
"Puckerman, you and that squirrel that lives on top of your head needs to get out because we are not about to play some honky-tonk music from a guy who couldn't figure out that his skinny ass needed bigger pants!"
"Aerosmith is classic, Satan! I don't understand why your opinion means more to this selection!"
"If y'all don't shut up and turn on some Michael Jackson, I'm going to go all Lima Crippled on each of your asses!"
"MJ, Wheels, really?"
"Think very carefully about the words that you're about to speak Santana, because you insult my King and I will run your ass over with my wheelchair—multiple times."
"We need some Latino/Spanish influence up in this mug," Santana replied.
"The last time the Spanish influenced anything—over a million people died," Puck retorted, "That should be a warning sign."
"Don't make me cuss you out, Puckerman! Nobody insults my heritage without getting smacked. Talk shit—get hit."
The argument was suddenly drowned out by the sound of Michael Jackson's Billy Jean playing. Mercedes couldn't stop giggling—apparently Artie had won that round.
"We'll leave you kids to it," David said as he escorted his thoroughly amused wife out of the room. They got a round of goodbyes, before Mercedes grabbed the bowl of tomato sauce.
"Pizza time!" she said, before she grabbed a piece of dough and started spreading sauce. Her actions caused a stampede as everyone went to different pieces and different toppings. Ten minutes later—they were all laughing at the different combinations people had created.
Santana, Artie, and Puck had joined them by this point and they were all jamming out some Usher—something all three could agree on. The pizzas didn't take long to bake and before two hours had passed—all of them were downstairs in the basement; chowing down on pizza, soda and the snacks that Mercedes and Quinn had set out earlier.
The conversation flowed between everyone smoothly—and once they were done; the boys washed their hands and immediately went to the video games. Somehow, Mercedes had been dragged into the video game tournament when the girls decided to play some pool.
The cussing and trash talk started almost instantly when Sam and Finn challenged each other.
"You fucker—that's cheatin'!" Sam yelled as Finn threw an arm out, blocking his vision. Because of the distraction, Finn won the round. Mercedes had to bite back a smile—no one would ever forget that Sam was from the country, but when he was mad, his accent came pouring out.
It was such a turn on.
Sam came back with a vengeance the next round and kicked Finn's ass. They played two more rounds—both of which Sam won and Finn traded places with Mike. Mercedes watched in amusement as the cussing started up again—this time from Finn cheering Mike on and Puck was telling Finn to take his shit elsewhere.
The game truly started though when Puck challenged Mercedes and she kicked his ass. The "Daammmmnnn, yo' ass got tore up!" from Artie had them all cackling. Puck was just staring at the screen in shock.
"Where the hell did that come from?" Mike asked—his jaw nearly on the floor. Sam was still laughing.
"Marry me, goddess!" Finn cried before he sprawled out on the couch and put his head in Mercedes' lap. She laughed—running a hand through his hair. She saw the look on Sam's face from the corner of her eye, and laughed harder.
"How were we in a relationship and I didn't know about the epicness of your inner badass?" Puck asked—eying her from his place on the floor next to her legs.
"You had your head shoved too far up your ass to realize how amazing this lady was," Mercedes responded primly and Puck groaned in dismay.
"Why was I so stupid?" he asked dramatically. Rachel walked around the side of the couch and eyed the way Finn was laying across her lap.
"What's going on here?" she asked—a dubious smile crossing her face.
"I've discovered my eternal love for my goddess," Finn joked, "You're shit out of luck, Rachel."
Mercedes couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face. Finn was saved from a tongue-lashing by Quinn rolling over the back of the couch. "I'm ready to kick some ass at Call of Duty," Quinn told them and they stared at her. "What?"
"You play video games?"
"I lived in this house for months," Quinn said, "If I didn't learn to play video games just because of this amazing room, then I would've learned because Mercy has four brothers and I'm not about to let someone walk all over me."
"The revelations of today are too much," Puck said—biting his knuckles as if he was in pain and Mercedes laughed.
"Y'all need to stop," Mercedes told them.
"Can we play something for all of us?" Rachel asked—she was still eying Finn's position in her lap, but Mercedes kept at it. It would be good for her to learn some humility.
"Just Dance!" Santana yelled as she tossed the game into Sam's hands. There were shrugs all around and they decided to play the Wii version.
And the tournament began. Santana lost to Brittany, Mercedes then beat Brittany. And the most surprising one of all—Artie smoked Mike. It made everyone laugh for a good ten minutes, before Puck turned on Party Rock Anthem and it turned into a giant dance party.
Grinding, popping and locking—everyone was on everybody; even Rachel got into the action.
The songs changed—the bass pounding and they all ended up in a tight circle—cheering and fist pumping. It was quite exhilarating and hilarious, because Artie was fist-pumping from his chair right next to them.
When the song changed to Jesse McCartney's Leavin', people couldn't help but sing along. And somehow Mercedes ended up right in front of Sam—grinding. His hands were on her hips and they moved together, before Mercedes was pulled away by Quinn.
"Your girlfriend is showing," the blonde whispered and Mercedes blushed, but they continued dancing—she made herself stay far away from Sam for the rest of the song.
It wasn't long before Lauren had to take off and everyone wished her a safe trip home. The kiss she gave Puck was X-rated and Mercedes had to look away to stop blushing. She caught Sam's eye and blushed furiously when he winked at her with that sexy half-smile on his face.
Once she left, Quinn got restless.
"I'm seriously ready to kick somebody's ass at video games," Quinn whined as the music was turned down and everyone started to catch their breath.
"I accept your challenge!" Mike responded. "Partner game?"
"Wii Tennis match," Quinn replied, "Santana wanna be my partner?"
"Sure thing, girl," she answered as she strolled to the front of the room. "I'm about to go hard on this game, Twinkle Toes—don't cry when I'm done."
Quinn walked after her—an amused grin on her face as Mike practically towed Puck to the front of the room.
"I'm going to get some more cold water from upstairs," Mercedes called to her friends—she received a chorus of thank you's from everyone as they settled on the couch and on the floor while Quinn set up the Wii.
Mercedes laughed softly to herself at her soul-sister's antics, before turning to walk upstairs. She was surprised when she almost ran directly into someone. "Oh!" she said, "Kurt, I didn't see you ther—"
"So, Mercy, when were you going to tell me about you and Sam?" Kurt asked bluntly—and for a moment, Mercedes was too taken aback to really react. How did Kurt find out?
If she wasn't so surprised—she would've been mad; in fact—she didn't like the expectant tone in his voice.
Mercedes stepped back from him and narrowed her eyes. "When were you going to tell me that you'd moved on to whiter pastures in the Land of Best Friends?" she asked—her voice was snappish and Kurt looked surprised at the rejoinder.
"What?" he sputtered, "What are you talking about, Mercedes? I'm your best friend—"
"Oh, really?" Mercedes retorted, "You're such a great friend of mine that it took you until now to remember that I existed? Some friend you are." She moved to step around him—not wanting to get anymore upset than she already was, but Kurt's hand on her arm stopped her.
"You're being ridiculous—I have a boyfriend and other friends besides you. It's stupid to think that I can hang around you every second of the day—"
Oh, hell to the no.
Mercedes put her hand up—directly in front of his face and Kurt stopped talking. The look in her eyes had to be mutinous from all the rage she was currently feeling.
"You know what's ridiculous?" Mercedes said—all the dejected feelings that she'd stuffed away at the back of her mind just rose up like a tidal wave. "The fact that you're pulling me away from my own party to demand some sort of information about my life when you could've known if you had spared a lick of attention for me, but no—it was all Blaine this and Blaine that and Rachel this and Rachel fucking that."
Kurt looked hurt, angry, and confused, but Mercedes was on a roll. "What has Rachel ever done for you? Besides constantly putting you down the first year—acting like you weren't good enough most of the second, and being a general pain in the ass, but all of sudden she's your new best friend?" Mercedes told him, "What was that? You should explain that to me before you go asking about my life."
"We have similar interests, Mercedes," Kurt replied, "You never made it known what your plans were for the future and Rachel was just there—she has the same dream as me, but that doesn't mean that I'm not your best friend."
"If you were my best friend, where the hell were you during prom week?" Mercedes questioned—tears were threatening to spill over her eyelids and she really wished they wouldn't—she didn't want to cry. "If you were my best friend, how come I haven't spent a minute alone with you since you came back to McKinley? I fought for you. I threw you a welcome back party. I've supported you in every way that I possibly could and yet you still dropped me for the pretty boy with brown eyes and the wannabe Barbra Streisand."
"I was at a different school! I can't just ignore Blaine—"
"You apparently can't do anything without Blaine, Kurt! You couldn't even come to my party without him!" Mercedes snapped and Kurt's eyes widened. "Do you know how much that hurt? It's like you were telling me that I wasn't enough to make you happy!"
"That's not true, Mercedes," Kurt whispered—his voice a harsh combination of exasperation, anger, and sadness. "I just haven't seen him since last week and I wanted him to get to know my friends."
"You haven't seen him since last—"
"I love him, Mercedes," Kurt interrupted. "I really do, and being away from him is hard."
Mercedes shook her head at his statement—he wasn't going to budge on the Blaine topic—she didn't even see why she was still arguing with him anyway.
"So what's your excuse for Rachel? What's your excuse for being completely absent from my life for the past few months? I was in the bed right across from Rachel—and yet, she's the one who you snuck out for a day on the town."
"I didn't think you'd—"
"Save it, Kurt," she stated and he fell silent. Mercedes didn't want him to finish that sentence, because she might start swinging or worse—crying because he'd hurt her feelings once again.
That day at her locker when he'd told her she was substituting food for love—she'd gone home and cried; feeling completely unloved and humiliated. Kurt had the ability to make her feel lower than dirt at times and he didn't even realize it.
Mercedes glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one else had seen the argument between the two of them. They were all distracted by the foursome playing an intense game of Wii tennis—their cheering happy and sometimes quite vulgar.
She turned her head back and looked up at him, her vision blurry from the tears she was holding back as she spoke, "I used to accept people walking in and out of my life like I was a revolving door, but not anymore." Kurt seemed even more upset at her statement, but she didn't give him a chance to interrupt.
She continued, her voice growing stronger even as her resolve to not cry weakened, "I deserve better—I deserve the best, and it took me awhile to get here, but I'm not going back to the spineless, convenient best friend that I used to be. You want to be in my life? I suggest you give me a reason to let you back in."
With that, Mercedes brushed past a shocked Kurt to walk up the stairs.
May 20, 2011 (Saturday)
Jones Estate-Kitchen
Lima, Ohio
12: 21AM
If there was one thing Sam hated—it was when Mercedes was upset.
He'd hated it before they were together, but now that they were dating; seeing her so emotional made him want to punch something, preferably the cause of her tears—but he couldn't exactly sucker-punch Kurt without having some questions asked.
He'd seen the whole argument between the two. Mercedes' back had been to him, but he could tell when she got angry because she tensed and Kurt's facial expressions said a lot about the words they were exchanging.
Sam had seen the way she checked over her shoulder—and the hurt on her face almost made him leap out of his seat and go to her. He'd resisted—barely—but only because he knew that she'd be even more upset if he blew their secret out of the water.
So he waited and watched—and when he saw her hurry up the stairs; Sam knew he wouldn't be able to resist going to her. He stood up and quietly slipped away—before hopping two stairs at a time all the way up to the main floor.
The entrance hall was quiet when he walked out of the small hallway leading to the basement stairs, but he could hear faint sounds of someone rummaging around in the kitchen. He walked through the archway just in time to see Mercedes toss a water bottle into a basket so hard that it flipped the wicker container over.
"Fuck!" she said as she impatiently righted the basket—placing it back on the counter. She turned to get another bottle from the fridge and Sam realized that she was crying—and she was crying hard.
"Cede," Sam said and she jumped in fright. Sam smiled at the sight of her wide eyes and the hand she'd thrown over her heart, but it dropped when her eyes flared with recognition and she turned away from him
"Sam," she replied, "You shouldn't be up here." Mercedes wouldn't look at him—even when he walked all the way into the room and moved closer to her.
"What happened, sweetheart?" he asked and Mercedes stopped for a moment.
"You should really learn how to not scare people when you make an entrance," she said—it was a feeble attempt to change the subject, but Sam wasn't about to fall for it.
"Cede," he said again and she gave him a sharp look.
"You really should go back downstairs, before anyone notices that both you and I are missing," she told him. Sam rolled his eyes and stepped closer to her.
"I don't care about that," he responded, "I want to make sure you're alright."
"Well I do care about that," Mercedes snapped at him, "And I'm fine." She tossed two more bottles of cool water into the wicker basket.
"What happened, Nala?" he questioned—his voice quiet. The name seemed to quell the rage she was feeling for a moment.
"Kurt happened, that's what." she told him. Sam was grateful that she'd opened up to him, but he still didn't have any idea how to comfort her.
"You're gonna have to expand on that one, sweetheart," Sam said, but Mercedes pretty much acted like she didn't hear him.
"I should put dye into his conditioner—see how much he likes it," she muttered and Sam had to bite back a grin. His lady seemed to have some prankster blood in her. He'd have to save those questions for a later time.
"Mercedes—"Sam tried again, but she ignored him.
"He hasn't been in my life for the past three months—why the fuck would I tell him about us?" she asked Sam—her crying restarted. And suddenly it all made sense in Sam's head. Kurt must have asked her something about them—and she hadn't responded well; neither had he from the look of their conversation.
"He is your best friend," Sam replied slowly. Mercedes gave a bitter laugh at that statement before wiping the tears off her face. He thought that they'd finally start talking about it, but Mercedes turned away from him and walked back to the fridge.
"I don't want to talk about this—it doesn't matter." She told him over her shoulder—and Sam almost gaped at her. He couldn't decide if he should be annoyed or not.
"You're crying and you're angry—it matters."
"Sam, I said I don't want to talk about it!" she retorted defensively and Sam felt that annoyed feeling take root and grow.
"I'm your boyfriend Mercedes, not just your friend," he stated, "Don't shut me out when you're feeling hurt!" His voice rose a little on the last line, and Mercedes' eyes watered—the hurt and anger in them sparkling back at him from her brown eyes.
"Oh, so now you're mad at me too." She violently tossed four more bottles of water into the wicker basket on the counter and Sam moved over and grabbed her shoulders. He turned her around—so he could meet her eyes.
"I'm mad because you keep holding things back, and you don't have to do that—you don't have to fight every battle alone or solve every issue on your own."
"I'm not some needy damsel, Sam," Mercedes whispered.
"I know you're an independent woman, but this is a relationship—our relationship and I want it to work. You can't have a relationship when only one person is sharing." His words were softly spoken, but they obviously touched Mercedes. She fell into his chest—his arms automatically wrapping her into a comforting embrace.
She hugged him back and tried to stop crying. Sam knew that it would take her awhile to adjust to having someone there for her like he was, but he cared for her enough to know that she was more than worth the slightly strenuous adjustment period.
Her arms wrapped around his neck as she looked up at him. "I'm sorry for being so annoying tonight," she told him through her slowing tears. Sam just kissed her.
"Don't worry about it, Cede," he replied, "I understand."
"Can we just have a good time tonight and talk tomorrow when everyone leaves?" she asked him and Sam nodded.
"Of course," Sam responded, before he pulled her even closer and kissed her again. It only took a couple of minutes for Mercedes to clean herself up while Sam finished putting some cold bottles of water in the basket.
He helped her with it all the way down the stairs and then made a ninja escape when they reached the basement landing. She went straight to their cackling group of friends—apparently Santana and Quinn had won—with the cool water while Sam snuck down the hall to the basement bathroom.
He waited a minute before coming back out and rejoining the party. It was a fun evening—they took tons of pictures, and of course there were lots of incriminating videos recorded, many lewd jokes being told, and there was rarely a moment when someone wasn't laughing.
Kurt and Mercedes didn't speak for the rest of the night though—Sam kept a close eye on that situation. And as they all decided at five in the morning that it was time for bed—he walked next to a sleepy Mercedes and whispered, "Don't let them fool you, sweetheart. Santana and Brittany can cuddle you tonight and Finn can propose to his goddess all he wants—I know that you're with me. And I was the first boy you ever slept with."
The wide eyes Mercedes shot him made his little speech less embarrassing. He winked at her, before falling to the back of the group—knowing that it was true. That night, when she'd come crying to him, they'd fallen asleep together in the back of her BMW—and he would forever be the first boy she'd slept with.
It was a fact that put Sam at ease when Santana cuddled into his girlfriend's arms—or when Puck got the spot at her feet.
They all lay sprawled across her bed—Mike having put Artie near the headboard so he wouldn't get rolled on by anyone. It was a peaceful night for Sam—he felt safe and happy and he hoped the feeling would continue to grow throughout the summer.
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