Chapter 28 (Part l)

"Girl, what do you mean you don't know,' Nani began, her face twisting into a dismissive yet inquisitive frown. She was pouring food into tupperware and moving quickly in the kitchen. Mercedes stood near her, swaying her hips from side to side in a thoughtless, idyllic way.

The girl shrugged, glanced over the Christmas tree and opened her lips to respond to her mother before stopping. She thought, not critically, but she did give a go-over. "Ma, what do I look like asking that boy if he likes me? If he liked me, he would tell me."

"Men don't always tell you. A real man will show you. Their actions speak for themselves. I see that little necklace he got you, and you tryna tell me that's not your boyfriend?"

"It's not,' she said with exasperation. "S is for Sailene."

Nani rolled her eyes, finished making her lunch for the day and pushed her bag towards the end of the counter. "I've had enough of you."

Mercedes shrugged, giggled. "I'm not doing nothing to you, momma."

"Yeah, yeah,' Nani said, walking around the counter to grab all of her stuff and head out of the door. "You saying what you think I wanna hear, I see you… Listen, if you like that boy,' Nani shrugged. "You like that boy. I think he likes you too. He was making eyes at you the whole time he was over here. Don't let nobody tell you who you can and can't be with. You not finna be rippin' and runnin' in and out of this house, but if he wanna take you out for dinner, let him!"

Mercedes rolled her eyes, her cheeks growing red. "We've gotten food together before, mom."

Nani raised her eyebrows. "I didn't say food. I said dinner."

Mercedes sighed, wishing she could tell her mother about all the things that her and Sebastian had done together that were so much more consequential than dinner (not that she needed to prove anything to her mother, because Sebastian didn't like her), but she bit her tongue, smart enough to know that most of the things she'd done with Sebastian had only been made possible through the contributions of lies told to her mother.

Nani made her way to the front door before stopping short. "Marley's grandma still dropping her off over here this afternoon?"

Mercedes nodded before shrugging, her confidence wearing after a few seconds. "I can call her and double check."

Nani shook her head and walked out the door. "Don't worry about it. I'll just come straight home."

Marley's grandma did, indeed, drop her off that afternoon, and Marley hobbled through the scraped drive-thru, purple, knit sweater wrapped around her neck and moist, brown hair clinging to her rosy cheeks on both sides of her russet nose. She was cute and young, and Mercedes smiled from ear to ear as the girls hugged.

"I'm so happy you could make it,' Mercedes said, waving goodbye to Marley's grandmother (who had grown even more fond of her since coming to know that Mercedes was Marley's only friend).

"I'm so happy to see you,' Marley said with a wide smile. "I missed you so much,' she walked through the door. "Got you something." A crudely wrapped package with surprisingly fancy paper.

Mercedes gave a small smile. "You shouldn't have. I didn't realize we were exchanging gifts. I'll get you something tomorrow. I promise."

"Please don't worry about it, really,' Marley said, holding her hands in the air. She got out of her coat and scarf quickly, hoping not to miss Mercedes unwrapping the present. The latter, however, took her time closing the front door so that Marley could move from flustered to comfortable. It was warm in the house, and she'd probably have a heat stroke if she kept it up the way that she had.

Beginning to unwrap the present, Mercedes noticed a gold-plated frame. Inside the glass was a mosaic of pressed flowers, after some time, she made out her name in contrasting tones to what was in the background. Pressing it to her chest, she smiled. "This is beautiful, Marley, thank you. Let's go hang it in my room."

Later in the afternoon, the girls were laying in Mercedes's bed, Marley's legs kicked up on the wall while Mercedes painted her own toenails.

"Okay, so…"

"Okay, so?" Marley beamed back quickly.

"There's something I haven't told you yet, but don't be mad."

"Scout's honor,' Marley replied, saluting the older girl.

"So, remember that boy I told you about, like, right after Halloween? The one you always ask about?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. The one you have a big, stinkin' crush on."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and responded sarcastically— "Yeah, that one."

"What about this anonymous gentleman, Mercedes?"

"He may or may not have come over the other day for Christmas Eve."

Marley sat all the way up, her mouth open fully. "You're joking."

Mercedes smiled and shook her head. "He met my mom and everything,' she said and pulled her necklace from underneath the collar of her shirt. "He got me this necklace."

As if shock hadn't already entirely rocked Marley, she began to shake in excitement. Her hands trembled as she reached to touch the necklace, running her fingers over it in caution. "This is beautiful, I—... So, his name starts with 'S', you guys are together… what? I'm so,' she motioned as if her mind was exploding. "I have so many questions."

"No,' Mercedes began, softly pulling the necklace from Marley's hands. "The 'S' is for Sailene, which is my middle name,' (she had been beating that excuse down for days now). "And we're not together. He just came over for Christmas…' but she wanted to keep the excitement up. "He got my mom something too, not just me. This expensive watch. I think it can tell the weather."

Marley bit her lip. "Excuse my French, but no damn way."

Mercedes gave a faux gasp, hitting Marley playfully on the arm. "Yes damn way."

Marley gave a loud sigh, shrugged and smiled. "I don't know what to say. I feel like there's something you're keeping from me."

"Girl, like what?"

"I don't know, it's just— boys only do stuff like this for their girlfriends,' Marley paused. "Is he gay or something?"

"No,' Mercedes blurted out before thinking. "Well, I don't think so."

"Then he likes you."

Mercedes shrugged and shook her head. "I don't think so. If you knew him like I do, you'd understand. I don't think I'm his type."

"You're gorgeous, funny, smart, kind and so talented. Why wouldn't you be his type?"

Mercedes could have given a list off the top of her head. He was popular. His family was rich. He was white, which wasn't a problem, except all his friends had a problem with her being black (which probably meant his family would too). He was totally out of her league (and by no means was she insecure, at least not really, at least she didn't think so, but he was stunning to look at, unreal at times). He had never made a romantic pass at her, and even if he had, she knew that what would follow would be a sexual pass (or precede it). There were countless reasons Sebastian wouldn't be into her, one of the simplest being that he would never find an easy partner in her. She would always question him, make him feel small when he wanted to feel big— but she also knew how to build him up when he felt small. She was his only confidant, the one who had been there for him when everyone else was nowhere to be seen. She knew his true feelings about almost everything, and she'd helped with his black eye, his twisted ankle, his mangled concept of friendship. His thawing heart.

"Things aren't that simple, Marley, you wouldn't understand."

Marley furrowed her eyebrows. "What? Does he, like, have a girlfriend?"

"No! No,' Mercedes sputtered quickly, she didn't want to seem like a two-timin'-hoe (or someone that would fool around with one). "He doesn't have a girlfriend. We're just really different, and I don't really get along with his friends. He just sees me as his friend, and even if he saw me as something else, it just wouldn't work."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, Marley."

"Mercedes, I don't know what to tell you. I think this guy really likes you, in fact, I know he does. Why else would he have you smiling ear to ear the way he does? Why would he buy you such a nice necklace or spend Christmas Eve with your family? Because you're his friend? No way, Jose. This guy obviously likes you. Maybe all the reasons you think he doesn't like you are all the same reasons he thinks you don't like him. Maybe he's just scared to tell you, so he's showing you."

Mercedes blushed, covering her smile as she looked down. "Momma said the same thing."

"See! When you're right, you're right. Even your mom knows, and she has so many street smarts. You need to tell him how you feel, girl. Tell him you love him."

"I do not love him, Marley,' Mercedes said, rolling her eyes.

Marley pushed Mercedes playfully. "Oh, you totally do, girl, look at that smile… Hey,' Marley got serious. "I wish I had a guy that made me feel so special. If I didn't love you so much, I'd be jealous,' Marley took Mercedes's hand. "You deserve this. Don't be scared."

Mercedes sighed deeply and nodded. She thought about how a younger version of herself would have been afraid to even mention having a crush out loud, too scared that it would turn into a point of ridicule. She trusted Marley, and despite knowing it probably wasn't her smartest choice, she trusted Sebastian. She knew too much about him for him to ever betray her, and he knew enough about her to never laugh in her face about something so fragile. She wasn't sure how she'd say it or where she would get the courage to, but from the innocent look of anticipation in Marley's eyes, Mercedes knew she had better return to Marley with results the next time they hung out again.

Chapter 28 (Part ll)

Sebastian and Mercedes had already made plans to hang out that week; there was a huge New Year's Eve party happening Saturday night, and he imagined he'd probably be hungover for a day or two afterwards, and then there wouldn't be much time before school began again for him to spend any time with Mercedes (which he knew she wanted before the tennis season began). Their interactions had been more than sweet for the past month, a pleasure they hadn't always been given, and he imagined things would return to being strained once school came back around. He would be busy, and the free time he had would be spent with his friends— he could already predict alcohol being the great stress relief of the spring, and he didn't want to predict the dumb decisions that would follow. Of course, Mercedes was an outlier to all these precedented behaviors and would stand her constant judge, jury and executioner without understanding much, not that he was capable of explaining much, and why take the time to explain that things would be the way they always had been to someone who didn't understand what always had been, especially if that conversation would start an argument in absence of one. He would play it cool like always.

"We can go for a walk or something,' Sebastian shrugged, snowflakes falling from his shoulders.

Mercedes, from her seat on the couch, poked her head around Sebastian's tall frame to get a glimpse outside. "It's freezing, and it's snowing, and you want to go for a walk?"

He took off his jacket with a sigh. "I'm trying to come up with ideas here,' Sebastian laughed. "Have you gotten out of the house recently? We can go do something, we don't have to stay holed up in here."

"Sebastian trying to be seen in public with me? Did Santa Clause get my letter?"

Sebastian stuck his neck out, a sarcastic grin on his face. "You think anybody with anything short of mental handicap is out in this weather right now? — I knew you weren't going for a walk. Going outside in this type of weather is, like, second grade comprehension level. You're in third, at least."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "You're a dick, at least."

Sebastian took off his coat and found the nearest couch to sit on, leaning back into a relaxed position. "You never spar with me anymore, Mercedes, you just call me an asshole or whatever and go cry in your room. Whatever happened to the spunky girl I knew? Bring her back."

"She's dead. I'm the sweetest girl in the world now,' Mercedes said back, rolling her eyes and bringing her legs underneath her thighs on the couch.

Sebastian raised his finger and pointed at the young woman. "Did I tell you I found your Valentine's Day card a few weeks ago?"

"No,' she covered her mouth in shock. "You didn't. Why do you still have that?"

He shrugged. "For posterity."

Mercedes thought for a second, beginning to speak before stopping herself. She started eventually: "How bad was it?"

Sebastian bit the inside of his lip and thought for a while. "I don't want to completely humiliate you."

"Oh, Lord,' she groaned. "Now you have to tell me, you have to, Sebastian."

"You know what,' Sebastian clapped his hands onto his knees. "I shouldn't have even brought it up. I'm sorry."

Mercedes looked at Sebastian in shock for a few seconds before laughing. She tried to stifle her intrigue and convey some anger: "You know what, Sebastian? You're an asshole, and I'm about to get to the bottom of this."

"Okay, Inspector Gadget,' Sebastian began, rolling his eyes. "Quaking in my loafers over here."

"God,' Mercedes ran her fingers through her hair. "I can't even imagine what it would have said… are you messing with me? Do you really still have it? Why would you keep that?"

Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows. "Why are you so worked up about it? It's not changing anything that has happened between us in the interim. So what if you wanted seven-year-old me to be the father of your kids? That's totally normal for one seven-year-old to say to another seven-year-old. We were all just seven-years-old. To hell with child protection laws."

Mercedes covered her face. "I could really burst into tears right now."

"No, don't cry,' Sebastian said, standing up to pat the girl on the back. "I'll let you see it eventually if you promise not to try to destroy it or anything."

"Oh, yeah,' Mercedes sputtered out. "I keep forgetting it's your most prized possession."

"It is,' Sebastian said in a pseudo-serious tone. "That singular card has the power to fuel my ego for the next decade, at least. I wouldn't let it out of my sight,' he returned to his side of the living room.

Mercedes sat in some form of abject shock for a few moments. Eventually, Sebastian clapped his hands together. "What are we doing today, Jones? You've got me here."

She shrugged. "Want to go get a movie?"

Sebastian looked out the window. "Sure."

Sebastian assumed his layers again, and Mercedes grabbed a coat. Walking out the door, both held onto the sidings of the front steps to keep from slipping on the ice. Once in Sebastian's car, he cranked the heat immediately and drove to the nearest VHS rental store. It was difficult to tell if the store was open from the outside, but after watching a couple walk in, he and Mercedes followed after, bringing white snowflakes into the dimly lit store. A middle-aged woman behind the counter greeted the two as they made their way into the first aisle.

"I don't think you know this about me."

"What?"

Sebastian turned around to face the girl and shrugged his shoulders. "I really like scary movies."

Mercedes thought for a few seconds. They continued to walk though Sebastian was facing the wrong way, taking cautious, small steps to avoid stumbling, waiting for a response.

"I don't think I've ever watched a real scary movie. I guess I saw Candy Man at my aunt and uncle's house, but that was just weird. I didn't understand the bees. It wasn't Honey Man, it was Candy Man. And why was he so obsessed with that white lady?"

Sebastian nodded, turning back around. "Not a favorite of mine either… I'm getting a horror movie. You can help me pick it out. Nothing cheesy though."

They ended up in the check-out line sooner than later, and Mercedes stared incredulously at the tape Sebastian had tucked underneath his arm. "I thought you said nothing cheesy, and I thought I was supposed to be helping."

Sebastian pulled the tape out for them to both look at together. "Village of the Damned. It's a classic, it's a remake, but.' he tapped the director's name on the tape case. "This guy is really good. He directed Halloween, Christine, The Thing…"

"I've never heard of any of those."

"It's not my fault that your taste in art is so myopic, but I wouldn't, personally, introduce you to something that I didn't think was high value, or as high value as jump scares are going to get. Give it a try, if you don't like it, you'll complain about it like you complain about everything else. It'll be fine."

"I'm not watching that."

Sebastian bit his lip. "We can make it fun,' he said with a smirk.

In the car, Sebastian placed the VHS tape and its bag into Mercedes's lap. He reached behind his own seat, rummaged for a few seconds and turned his head to smile in the girl's direction before he brought his arm back around.

"You're joking, right?"

"No, no, listen, it'll be great,' he began, nearly sputtering at the look on the girl's face.

"Each time something in the movie happens that you think is lame, corny as hell, why-the-fuck-am-I-watching-this, I'll take a shot, but! But- but- but- but!— hear me out— each time they do something in the movie that I think is scary or worthy of note, a true auteur's mark on the film, you get to take a shot. Trust me, we'll be drunk in half of an hour, and you won't even remember that you didn't want to watch it in the first place."

"Sebastian, I'm saying this because I care about you a lot. I think you're an alcoholic, and the first step for you is admitting you need help."

He sighed. "So, you don't want the tequila?"

"I'm not saying that at all,' Mercedes responded quickly. "I am saying we're probably going to have to make some more lemonade when we get back home."

Sebastian had put the VHS tape into the tape player before Mercedes had finished making the lemonade, but he knew they'd have to sit through a few trailers and opening credits before she'd return to the living room anyway. This time around, he'd gotten rid of his shoes, sweater and jacket, revealing a worn down Buckeye t-shirt and light wash jeans. It was warm in the house, and he'd helped Mercedes light a few candles. Festive smells illuminated the living room as he watched Mercedes, black leggings and black tank top under a knit brown sweater. It all almost felt domestic, if it weren't for the plastic bottle of tequila taking center place on the mantle.

It's a pretty picture, he thought, but went for the tequila nonetheless. It would warm things up.

"You're just going to go straight from the bottle,' Mercedes asked, hearing the liquid from the bottle up-turn.

"It's the most civic, charitable thing I can do,' he wiped his mouth. "I'm trying to minimize the amount of dishes you have to wash later."

"You're so kind, Sebastian, what would I do without you?"

"Likely live better. Morally, you know? There'd be a shit ton less sinning,' Sebastian walked over to the kitchen with the bottle in hand. He looked at her lazily. "Wouldn't be nearly as fun though."

"I know."

He thought for a second before beginning to laugh. "I cannot believe some of the stuff I've gotten you to do… I'm a bad influence, aren't I?"

Mercedes finished with the lemonade and tucked it in the fridge. "What kind of stuff are you talking about?"

Sebastian could make a list. "Well, for starters, I've gotten you drunk, made you late for class, made you lie to your mother countless times, this is just to start."

Mercedes crossed her arms and thought for a few seconds. "You also took me to see one of the Great Lakes, and you took me to my first football game. You taught me how to golf and say some stuff in French. I don't know if I told you, but this was my first Halloween not at church or sitting home alone… plus, you keep claiming you're going to let me drive your car, which I don't believe, but we'll see! There's plenty of ways you're a good influence, well, I wouldn't say 'good influence', but you are a good friend… good person. And you always try to tell me how it is, even if I don't want to hear it. I can trust you to be honest with me, and most people think I'm too innocent or sheltered to know or understand the truth about stuff. You know: just because I don't watch the news doesn't mean I'm living underneath a rock. You don't treat me like a child or something to wonder upon, like, like I'm a toddler just discovering stuff."

He crossed his arms. "Well, you're not a toddler. You're almost an adult. I think it's unfair that everyone around you coddles you, but you know,' Sebastian shrugged. "There's a measure of grace there. You're unapologetically yourself because no one ever convinced you that you shouldn't be. I don't think I ever got that opportunity. To just be me."

"Yeah,' Mercedes nodded. "You had to create the Sebastian shield of defense."

He gave a soft smile. "It's working."

"I wonder what things would be like if I were you and you were me,' she said, shrugging and grabbing a glass. She poured ice into it, pushed it over towards Sebastian and did the same for herself.

"I'd probably be bored out of mind,' Sebastian responded. "No dig. I'd probably be kinder, probably better at tennis. I'd have more time to practice instead of going out to parties."

Mercedes thought. "I think I'd be happier, not that I'm not happy now, I just think having rich parents would make my life a lot easier."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?"

"I think I'd appreciate it in a way that you and your family can't… you guys never didn't have, so you don't know what it's like to be without. I would do all the things I couldn't."

Sebastian paused and thought— "If I were you, and you were me, I would do all the things I couldn't as well."

They stood in silence for a beat before Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh and went for the bottle of tequila once more. "We haven't even started drinking yet, and it's getting heavy,' he said, wagging his finger at the girl. "Not a good sign."

He lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a brave swig before placing it on the counter, wiping his mouth and flashing his million-dollar smile. "You try."

"No way, Jose."

"It's not so bad, hair on your chest, band aid right off."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I just made all that lemonade."

Sebastian raised his hands in surrender. "No peer pressure. Don't do it if you don't want to, but just know that you wouldn't survive ten minutes at one of my parties."

"I know what you're trying to do,' Mercedes said, twisting her lips into a scowl.

"Hand to heart,' he placed his hand to his heart. "I'm not trying to do anything."

"Just give me the bottle,' she caved. Holding the plastic gallon to her nose, Mercedes took a sniff and was properly pushed back a few inches. "You're joking, Sebastian! Sebastian!"

The boy had erupted into laughter, doubled over, a fixture of giggles. His stoicism was no more and perhaps the two shots were helping— but he couldn't get over her shock. "It's—,' he tried to catch his breath. "Listen. It's really not that bad,' he could tell his face was red. "It's fine, I promise. We can pour two, and we'll take it together."

"You're trying to kill me, that's exactly what you're trying to do."

"No, no, no,' he pleaded, becoming apologetic. He tried to wrap the girl into a hug but she pushed back ferociously, inciting more laughter, this time from both parties. "Treating me like an alcoholic here,' Sebastian began, rubbing his face. "It's seriously not worse than anything else that gets passed around, like, I had it. Come on. Out of all the high-and-mighty moments you could have, please don't choose right now,' he leaned over and took the bottle from Mercedes's hands.

"Here, just open up,' he began, holding the bottle above her head to coax her into drinking.

"I'm not a dog, Sebastian!"

He had already begun to let a little bit of the liquor trickle from the bottle, and Mercedes, whilst rolling her eyes, opened her mouth for a full pour. She began to cough and sputter only seconds later, holding a hand to her chest as she strove to breathe. After a few sputters, she swung the refrigerator door wide and took a long swig of lemonade before catching her breath.

"That was—,' she began.

While Sebastian had been laughing, he'd stopped after a few seconds, stupefied by the performance. "You're so fucking dramatic."

They brought the bottle, as loathed as it was, back into the living room with both glasses and the lemonade. A few more credits rolled before the title scene opened, and Mercedes pulled the curtains shut so the only light in the room came from the television.

"Where are you going to sit?" Sebastian asked.

"Why,' Mercedes responded, a bit more defensively than he had expected.

"I want to see you when you jump."

Because there was no table in the center of the living room, Mercedes pulled a comforter out of the hallway closet and laid it in the middle of the living space before grabbing pillows from all the couches and throwing them onto the floor.

Sebastian looked down at the set up, bit the corner of his mouth before shrugging and collapsing on the floor. "Is this what you do for your little sleepovers?"

"Oh, my God, Sebby! Are we having a sleepover right now?"

He laughed and leaned back on his elbow. "We are totally having a sleepover right now."

"I don't think I could fall asleep during this movie."

"You better not. This cost me a whole $5. Before tax."

"I know that was hard on your pockets,' the girl retorted with a cackle. She found a spot on the blanket beside Sebastian, pushed the glasses a bit out of reach so that they would not spill before they came of use. The movie had begun, the women were pregnant, and it wasn't long before Mercedes began remarking on what she believed to be oddities.

"It's not scary,' she declared about forty minutes into the plot. "It's just weird."

"Yeah,' the boy nodded, his chin digging deeply into open palm. "Carpenter's use of suspense here is,' Sebastian paused, turning his left to right in thought. "Travail de novice."

Mercedes cut her eyes over at the boy but did not lift her head. "What's that?"

"Novice work."

She blew a raspberry. "You couldn't have said that in English?"

Sebastian laughed, tickled about what he was about to say: "It doesn't have the same je ne sais quoi."

"I hate you,' the girl muttered under her breath before reaching forward to take a drink from the cup.

Sebastian took a glance at the girl. "I just described how this movie is doing the complete opposite of things I consider worth taking a shot for,' he began. "You weren't supposed to drink. If anything, I should be drinking for the sheer impurity that are these platinum blonde, value store wigs,' he rubbed both his eyes in frustration. "This is so shocking to me. I'm actually sorry for suggesting it."

Mercedes shrugged and pushed Sebastian's glass towards him (a defeat he took gladly). "Drink up,' she stated, watching the boy bring the glass to his mouth. "It's not the worst thing I've ever seen, and it's better than nothing. We could be counting the speckles on the ceiling."

He looked up.

The movie played out, and Sebastian couldn't be sure how many shots either of them had taken. From the beginning, he knew Mercedes hadn't been paying close attention because there were many scenes in which he expected her great authority to demand him take a shot that had gone by in silence. Once he realized that the girl seemed content to finish the drink she mixed and make another without pressuring him into increased drunkenness, he felt that it was only fair that he'd go the same route, though he had seen her twitch and jump more than a few times.

As the credits rolled, Sebastian checked his watch and saw that there was time to return the movie and make it back to his side of town before it was completely dark. The ice on the roads was supposedly worse than usual that week, and he didn't want to combine the few drinks he had with the potential of black ice. When he stood, he retrieved the VHS tape, slipped it into its sleeve and helped Mercedes toss the pillows back on the couches.

"So much for our sleepover,' she said, jokingly.

"I gotta return the movie, and there's ice on the roads. Don't want to end up the poster child for teenage drinking and driving, so might as well quit while I'm ahead,' he pushed his hair behind his ear, an indication that he needed a haircut. He looked up at himself in the mirror of the living room, as he had done before.

"Do you think I need a haircut?"

"Not this again."

"If you cared about me, you would be just as interested in how I look as I am,' he said, beginning to laugh.

"You're a piece of work."

"No, it's fine,' he convinced himself, running his fingers through it as it landed around his ear canals. His nose was semi-permanently red from the season, his hair finally darkened from losing its summery shine. "I didn't tell you,' he began, turning around and clapping his hands. "Savannah cut all her hair off,' he sucked his teeth and gave a nod. "Shorter than mine."

"Oh,' Mercedes said, unsure if she should be in shock or not. "Does it look nice at least?"

"Well,' he began, grabbing his jacket and keys. Mercedes had already picked up the tequila bottle, lemonade pitcher and glasses off the floor. "She's not quelling any suspicion that she's a certified diver, but I like it on her,' he shrugged. "Don't think my mom's a fan, but there's nothing Savannah can do to make her happy anyway."

"What's a 'certified diver'?"

Sebastian's eyes widened a bit before he took a sharp breath in, releasing it in a disappointed sigh. He didn't care to explain. He reached for the front door. "Am I leaving anything?"

Mercedes pointed at the mantle where the VHS sat. "And the tequila in the kitchen. My mom will have a stroke if she walks in and sees that."

He walked over to grab the VHS tape and placed it in his back pocket. He took a glance into the kitchen, eyeing the bottle and decided against grabbing it. "Keep it. I don't need it."

"What am I supposed to do with that, Sebastian?"

The boy shrugged, returning to the front door to retrieve his shoes, his keys making a ceremonious jingle in his pocket. "Save it, drink it, pour it down the sink. Use it as drain cleaner. I don't care. It's been burning a hole through my backseat for weeks; I think we're getting some nice shit for New Years anyway, so it's nothing I need… just keep it for the next time I come over."

"I don't want that."

Sebastian opened the door and rolled his eyes. "Then throw it away."

As he stepped outside, he waited for Mercedes to follow and send him on his way. She stayed close to the door frame as he made sturdy steps down to the pavement. Turning back around, he looked up at her as she shivered, her arms crossed.

As Sebastian spoke, his breath became like thick white clouds as if chimney debris: "I'll be busy all of next week, but I can make Saturday afternoon free, if you want me."

Mercedes nodded. "That's fine,' she said, still shaking. She smiled a small bit. Sebastian, noting the severe temperature drop, gave the girl a small wave which she returned before he turned to face his car.

"Wait! Wait,' Mercedes began, prompting the boy to turn back.

Sebastian spun around, the slippery ground giving him an easy glide. His eyes were attentive.

"I want to ask you something."

Sebastian looked over his shoulder at the sinking sun. He gave a defeated sigh and walked back towards the steps. "What's up?"

The girl hesitated, as if she had not expected him to turn around, or as if she had not expected him to be real, or as if the orange sun widening over the pale horizon on the suburban grunge cityscape was an oil painting melting into life, and when he spoke, strange figure in the foreground, he pulled her in, bone and then linseed.

"Hey,' Sebastian began, now from the landing of the porch, his hand on her arm. "You're really cold, so, let's do this,' he said, guiding her back a few steps so that she was back in the warm house and he was at the threshold. They stood a few inches apart.

"What's up? What's wrong?"

"I know I need to ask you something, but I don't know how to say it. I'm scared it might ruin everything."

Sebastian felt his heart drop, and his expression changed from apprehensive to a look that, perhaps, would best be described as defensive. His arms were on both sides of the door frame, as if it were him holding the foundation up. "Just say it."

"Do you like me?"

He furrowed his eyebrows for a second before scoffing. "What?"

Mercedes began to gush, putting words where the space was: "Am I somebody that you have feelings for? Yes or no?"

The look of confusion on Sebastian's face remained. "Where is this coming from?"

Mercedes stepped back, surprise washing over her. She gestured to something that was not there, as if a pile of evidence lay beside her. "'Where is this coming from?' … The necklace, us hanging out all the time, Halloween,' she began to rub her temple. "You can't ask me where it's coming from, because it's just… everything. I just want to know if you have feelings for me. That's it."

Sebastian looked at the girl for a few seconds, deep confusion still etched into his brow. His eyes searched hers, a sense of worry beginning to rise in his chest. He brought one hand down to his jaw, rubbing it anxiously. He looked down in thought for a second before beginning to make eye contact once more. Barely audible: "That day in your house, you told me no."

Mercedes gave a soft shrug and sympathetic smile. "I didn't know you then."

He tilted his head onto his shoulder that was still propped up. "Yeah,' Sebastian whispered.

"If you're scared or nervous or unsure, so am I. I've never done anything like this before, but I know I like you. I don't want to keep all these feelings I have inside and never tell you how great of a guy I think you are. I just thought that maybe you felt the same way."

Sebastian stood still for a while, then began to nod his head. When he looked back at the girl, his eyes looked red, as if he were on the verge of tears but had stopped himself short. "I-,' he began. "There's no way I don't hurt you."

"You don't have to worry about hurting me, it's-,"

He cut her off. "No, I— I didn't… I wasn't careful with you, okay? I didn't think. When you blew me off that day, there was never a thought in my mind that I was ever going to be somebody that you could want. So, it didn't matter what I said or what I did, or if I flirted or if I stood you up or if I treated you like a partner, my partner, because it was like practice. It was just pretend. We were doing all these things together, and it felt good. It felt right. I liked being with you— I just, I don't know what to say. I was doing what I could when I could with someone I cared deeply about, because I do care about you. You're my friend, okay, Mercedes. You're my best friend, Mercedes— I shouldn't have led you on. If I knew you felt this way…you didn't tell me. Why didn't you tell me before now?"

A look of grief had left the girl bereft. Her bottom lip quivered slightly, but she didn't flinch. "What would have changed? You just made your feelings about me abundantly clear. I was practice."

"That's not what I meant. You're smart enough to know that's not what I meant. It could have been different,' he pleaded. "I could have thought about it, it wouldn't be like we had spent all this time together with me not knowing how you felt… I can't even apologize. You saw everything. You heard everything. I told you I fucked another girl, and you just went with that?"

"What was I supposed to say, Sebastian?' Mercedes said forcefully. "I couldn't do for you what she was doing, so I just listened, and I still liked you. I still thought the best of you. I still wanted to be yours in some way."

He shook his head, as if he couldn't hear anymore. "I don't know what to say. I don't. I'm sorry, I—,"

Mercedes cut the boy off. "Just leave."

Sebastian pushed his hair out of his face and took a step back. He looked her over and sighed.

There was nothing to say.