Glee Fic: Starlight (Mercedes/Sam, PG-15)
Sam sat on the front steps of the rented home his family lived in and ran a weary hand through his freshly cut hair. It was now his more natural dirty blond than the lemon-juiced golden locks of before; yet for some reason, he felt much more settled despite the day he’d had.
Or maybe because Nashville night sounds soothed a troubled mind too.
He’d gone to his new high school to register and sign up for classes with his parents; but the meeting had been too long and even less productive. His grades weren’t the strongest from junior year, obviously, so all of the classes the counselor had suggested he take were either remedial or ones he’d already taken-and passed-at McKinley.
“We believe in excellence here,” the guidance counselor had said. “We also believe in realistic expectations. This is the level at which your son will have the greatest chances of success.”
Never before had he been called a dumbass so professionally.
His parents had been appalled, though those who didn’t know them well would’ve never been able to tell. His father’s mouth had gotten very tight while his mother’s eyes had grown almost imperceptibly wider even as she’d asked him to take Stacy and Stevie out in the hallway.
“It’s a pretty school,” Stacy had observed. Sam had nodded noncommittally. It was one of the best high schools in the city and possibly even the state, but it wasn’t his school back in Memphis, which was also a top academic school, and it certainly wasn’t McKinley.
It was, however, bullshit.
His parents had been very quiet as they’d left the school and lunch at the local sandwich shop had been dominated by Stacy and Stevie’s arguing. That his parents hadn’t chastised them had told Sam the discussion with the counselor hadn’t improved once the kids had left at all. In fact, they hadn’t approached him about it until after they’d put Stacy and Stevie to bed.
“This is your senior year,” his father had said as they’d sat around the cleared kitchen table. Sam hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his mother’s cooking until he’d scarfed down two helpings of turnip greens…and he hated turnip greens.
“I know,” Sam had muttered, reclining in the chair and shoving his thumbs in his jeans pockets.
“Junior and senior years are the most important in high school…and college,” his father had continued.
Sam had scoffed. “According to that guidance counselor, I shouldn’t even bother-”
“Stop it,” Mrs. Evans had admonished. “You did well enough at your old school; and last year was…chaotic…”
It’d been on the tip of his tongue to demand his parents tell him something he didn’t know, but he’d managed to refrain.
“Your mother and I are going to discuss…options…before it’s too late to do anything, but you’re not going to essentially repeat your junior year-”
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Sam had said with a shrug. “Things still aren’t as stable as they could be. Maybe college should be put on hold-”
“That is a last resort, and we’re not there yet,” Mrs. Evans had said firmly, and she’d cupped Sam’s face. “We’ll figure out something, sweetheart.”
He’d been outside since then, almost an hour, trying on his own to think of alternatives that wouldn’t make his family sacrifice more than it’d already had; but so far, no success. Yet, he was more than willing to bite another bullet or two if it meant his family’s stability.
His pocket buzzed, jerking Sam out of his musings, and he checked the caller ID on his cellphone. A tiny smile formed on his face and he answered the call.
“Good evening, lady,” he greeted, trying to keep his tone light.
“Are you all right?” Mercedes immediately asked.
“Ye-” he halted the lie and sighed, not even surprised she’d seen through the initial one. Mercedes had an impeccable bullshit meter. “Today was major in suckage.”
She made a long kissing sound through the phone. “I hope that took some away.”
“It did,” he confirmed with a bigger grin. “Though the thought of you does that anyway,” Sam admitted.
“You’re such a charmer,” she said on a laugh. “One of the reasons I love you.”
His smile faded and he squeezed his eyes briefly against the sudden stinging that appeared. “I needed to hear that, Mercedes.”
“Baby, always,” she promised. “Whose ass I need to kick?”
His chuckle was faint and derisive. “Mine, for being so dumb.”
“Oh, I’ll kick your ass, all right, but mainly for calling yourself dumb!” Mercedes said. “You’re not dumb, Sam Evans!”
“The school system here thinks I am,” he countered bitterly.
“Oh, hell to the no!” Mercedes exclaimed. “I know they ain’t call my man dumb!”
He imagined her marching back and forth in her room, her eyes focused and glaring as her mind plotted various ways of death for the offending party. He’d seen that look at it was a bit frightening, and he was glad it wasn’t directed at him.
“My parents aren’t too thrilled, either,” Sam muttered.
“Because you’re not dumb!” Mercedes all but snarled. “Just because you’re not the world’s strongest reader or speller doesn’t mean your comprehension skills aren’t good! Damn! Yeah, you’re not Mike or Artie, but you’re damn sure not Finn!”
Sam laughed despite himself. “Finn’s not that bad.”
“I love Finn dearly, but he has his moments and you know it,” Mercedes said, though some of her bluster faded.
“I’ve had some of mine. Remember Mr. Schue had to teach me how to tie my shoelaces.”
“You had problems with the double-knot, Sam; that’s not exactly the same thing.”
He laughed lightly again. “You’re determined not to let me sulk about this, are you?”
“Yep,” Mercedes said unapologetically. “Besides, you know a lot of things I bet those blowhards at the school don’t know-like Na’vi.”
“Na’vi isn’t a real language-”
“It’s real to me,” Mercedes insisted. “My heart knows ‘I love you’ in any tongue, Sam Evans.”
His heart swelled very full of that love for her. “Oe neu ne lu hu nga,” Sam murmured, “I want to be with you.”
“You are,” she replied, her voice even softer. “Not a minute that goes by when I don’t think about you.” She laughed humorlessly. “And to think I’d rolled my eyes at that being possible. It sucks working at that damn bridal shop sometimes, gets me imagining-”
Sam closed his eyes at the way his heart thudded in his chest, his mind filling in the words she’d abruptly stopped. To know she’d been thinking of them beyond high school…long-term thoughts was a heady thing. He’d always had a bad habit of doing that, though strangely, the only time he hadn’t was when he’d been with Santana. But for all the affection he’d had for Quinn, she’d always been stuck on the short-term goal of prom. His father had always cautioned him on being too serious about relationships at too young of an age, but he was his mother’s child when it came to love. When it clicked, it clicked. And unlike with Quinn, he hadn’t had to force the mutuality of it with Mercedes.
“I just freaked you out, didn’t I?” she muttered, drawing him from his thoughts.
Sam opened his eyes and looked overhead at the sky. He found the Summer Triangle and fixated on Vega. He then shifted his eyes from the east to the north and found Polaris, the North Star.
“I know Rachel is the star of glee club, Mercedes, but you’re my star, my North Star. Whenever I feel lost or adrift, I can think of you and feel righted again,” he said.
“Sam…”
“And the star never sets in this hemisphere, did you know that, Mercedes?” he asked, standing and going a few steps down the walk. He was glad their house was in a neighborhood that allowed for a decent view of the stars. That was one of few things he’d appreciated about the motel-an unobstructed sky. “I’m never not thinking of you, either, so…yeah…you’re my guiding light, lady…” And completely unconsciously, he began singing “Bella Notte” all the while staring at Polaris and thinking about his sparkling midnight lady. He even swayed, pretending she was with him, hearing Puck’s accordion and Mike and Artie’s harmonies in his head. When he finished, there was silence on the other end, and he felt fire explode all over his face.
“Ah-”
“Rachel’s an idiot with shitty timing,” Mercedes said flatly.
“What?”
“No way in the hell am I not kissing you if you’da sung that to me in New York!”
His smile was wide and relieved. “Really?”
“Boy, if we were together right now, I woulda been tackled you!”
“I think I suddenly know why Puck is so fond of Lauren right now,” Sam said, anticipating the day Mercedes would.
“And Lauren is badass.”
“That too.”
“How far away is Labor Day?” she whined.
“Too damn far,” he murmured lowly.
“I hate this almost as much as I love you,” Mercedes said.
Sam bounced on the balls of his feet proudly, still staring at the Little Dipper’s brightest star. “I love you too.”
“And, to reiterate, you are not dumb, so don’t ever fix your mouth to say that foolishness again!”
“Yes, ma’am!’
Mercedes laughed at his affected Tennessee drawl. “I know you were kidding there, but I have to say I’m loving the deepened Southern accent you have now, Sam. I noticed traces of it when I hung around your family, but now it’s so there.”
“It’s like slippin’ into a favorite pair of shoes,” Sam said.
“I want to visit there one day,” she told him.
“It’s not Memphis, because I think you’d enjoy the music there a bit more, but it’s still amazing,” Sam said, now pacing in the meager front yard and staring at his feet. “I’ve taken a cue from you and started some performing gigs down here. Actually have had some good responses.”
“Again, am I supposed to be surprised?” Mercedes asked.
He laughed and shook his head. “I suppose not, then.”
“You’re catching on, Evans,” she said, and he imagined her gorgeous smile.
“Because I’m not dumb.”
“Say it again!”
“I’m not dumb!” Sam crowed, pumping his fist in the air.
“But you’re mine,” Mercedes said. “Which proves how smart you are to manage getting a woman like me!”
“Perspective, I has it,” he deadpanned.
Mercedes laughed and made another kissing sound. “I’m going to bed now, baby. I promised to meet Rachel and Kurt for breakfast tomorrow morning and I have to be at the shop by nine still.”
“Have a good night, Mercedes,” he said. “And thank you…for everything.”
“Of course, baby. I’m always here for you-we all are. You still have your glee family; remember that.”
When the call ended, Sam stood straighter, buoyed by Mercedes’s words.
He was ready to kick senior year’s ass.
Or maybe because Nashville night sounds soothed a troubled mind too.
He’d gone to his new high school to register and sign up for classes with his parents; but the meeting had been too long and even less productive. His grades weren’t the strongest from junior year, obviously, so all of the classes the counselor had suggested he take were either remedial or ones he’d already taken-and passed-at McKinley.
“We believe in excellence here,” the guidance counselor had said. “We also believe in realistic expectations. This is the level at which your son will have the greatest chances of success.”
Never before had he been called a dumbass so professionally.
His parents had been appalled, though those who didn’t know them well would’ve never been able to tell. His father’s mouth had gotten very tight while his mother’s eyes had grown almost imperceptibly wider even as she’d asked him to take Stacy and Stevie out in the hallway.
“It’s a pretty school,” Stacy had observed. Sam had nodded noncommittally. It was one of the best high schools in the city and possibly even the state, but it wasn’t his school back in Memphis, which was also a top academic school, and it certainly wasn’t McKinley.
It was, however, bullshit.
His parents had been very quiet as they’d left the school and lunch at the local sandwich shop had been dominated by Stacy and Stevie’s arguing. That his parents hadn’t chastised them had told Sam the discussion with the counselor hadn’t improved once the kids had left at all. In fact, they hadn’t approached him about it until after they’d put Stacy and Stevie to bed.
“This is your senior year,” his father had said as they’d sat around the cleared kitchen table. Sam hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his mother’s cooking until he’d scarfed down two helpings of turnip greens…and he hated turnip greens.
“I know,” Sam had muttered, reclining in the chair and shoving his thumbs in his jeans pockets.
“Junior and senior years are the most important in high school…and college,” his father had continued.
Sam had scoffed. “According to that guidance counselor, I shouldn’t even bother-”
“Stop it,” Mrs. Evans had admonished. “You did well enough at your old school; and last year was…chaotic…”
It’d been on the tip of his tongue to demand his parents tell him something he didn’t know, but he’d managed to refrain.
“Your mother and I are going to discuss…options…before it’s too late to do anything, but you’re not going to essentially repeat your junior year-”
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Sam had said with a shrug. “Things still aren’t as stable as they could be. Maybe college should be put on hold-”
“That is a last resort, and we’re not there yet,” Mrs. Evans had said firmly, and she’d cupped Sam’s face. “We’ll figure out something, sweetheart.”
He’d been outside since then, almost an hour, trying on his own to think of alternatives that wouldn’t make his family sacrifice more than it’d already had; but so far, no success. Yet, he was more than willing to bite another bullet or two if it meant his family’s stability.
His pocket buzzed, jerking Sam out of his musings, and he checked the caller ID on his cellphone. A tiny smile formed on his face and he answered the call.
“Good evening, lady,” he greeted, trying to keep his tone light.
“Are you all right?” Mercedes immediately asked.
“Ye-” he halted the lie and sighed, not even surprised she’d seen through the initial one. Mercedes had an impeccable bullshit meter. “Today was major in suckage.”
She made a long kissing sound through the phone. “I hope that took some away.”
“It did,” he confirmed with a bigger grin. “Though the thought of you does that anyway,” Sam admitted.
“You’re such a charmer,” she said on a laugh. “One of the reasons I love you.”
His smile faded and he squeezed his eyes briefly against the sudden stinging that appeared. “I needed to hear that, Mercedes.”
“Baby, always,” she promised. “Whose ass I need to kick?”
His chuckle was faint and derisive. “Mine, for being so dumb.”
“Oh, I’ll kick your ass, all right, but mainly for calling yourself dumb!” Mercedes said. “You’re not dumb, Sam Evans!”
“The school system here thinks I am,” he countered bitterly.
“Oh, hell to the no!” Mercedes exclaimed. “I know they ain’t call my man dumb!”
He imagined her marching back and forth in her room, her eyes focused and glaring as her mind plotted various ways of death for the offending party. He’d seen that look at it was a bit frightening, and he was glad it wasn’t directed at him.
“My parents aren’t too thrilled, either,” Sam muttered.
“Because you’re not dumb!” Mercedes all but snarled. “Just because you’re not the world’s strongest reader or speller doesn’t mean your comprehension skills aren’t good! Damn! Yeah, you’re not Mike or Artie, but you’re damn sure not Finn!”
Sam laughed despite himself. “Finn’s not that bad.”
“I love Finn dearly, but he has his moments and you know it,” Mercedes said, though some of her bluster faded.
“I’ve had some of mine. Remember Mr. Schue had to teach me how to tie my shoelaces.”
“You had problems with the double-knot, Sam; that’s not exactly the same thing.”
He laughed lightly again. “You’re determined not to let me sulk about this, are you?”
“Yep,” Mercedes said unapologetically. “Besides, you know a lot of things I bet those blowhards at the school don’t know-like Na’vi.”
“Na’vi isn’t a real language-”
“It’s real to me,” Mercedes insisted. “My heart knows ‘I love you’ in any tongue, Sam Evans.”
His heart swelled very full of that love for her. “Oe neu ne lu hu nga,” Sam murmured, “I want to be with you.”
“You are,” she replied, her voice even softer. “Not a minute that goes by when I don’t think about you.” She laughed humorlessly. “And to think I’d rolled my eyes at that being possible. It sucks working at that damn bridal shop sometimes, gets me imagining-”
Sam closed his eyes at the way his heart thudded in his chest, his mind filling in the words she’d abruptly stopped. To know she’d been thinking of them beyond high school…long-term thoughts was a heady thing. He’d always had a bad habit of doing that, though strangely, the only time he hadn’t was when he’d been with Santana. But for all the affection he’d had for Quinn, she’d always been stuck on the short-term goal of prom. His father had always cautioned him on being too serious about relationships at too young of an age, but he was his mother’s child when it came to love. When it clicked, it clicked. And unlike with Quinn, he hadn’t had to force the mutuality of it with Mercedes.
“I just freaked you out, didn’t I?” she muttered, drawing him from his thoughts.
Sam opened his eyes and looked overhead at the sky. He found the Summer Triangle and fixated on Vega. He then shifted his eyes from the east to the north and found Polaris, the North Star.
“I know Rachel is the star of glee club, Mercedes, but you’re my star, my North Star. Whenever I feel lost or adrift, I can think of you and feel righted again,” he said.
“Sam…”
“And the star never sets in this hemisphere, did you know that, Mercedes?” he asked, standing and going a few steps down the walk. He was glad their house was in a neighborhood that allowed for a decent view of the stars. That was one of few things he’d appreciated about the motel-an unobstructed sky. “I’m never not thinking of you, either, so…yeah…you’re my guiding light, lady…” And completely unconsciously, he began singing “Bella Notte” all the while staring at Polaris and thinking about his sparkling midnight lady. He even swayed, pretending she was with him, hearing Puck’s accordion and Mike and Artie’s harmonies in his head. When he finished, there was silence on the other end, and he felt fire explode all over his face.
“Ah-”
“Rachel’s an idiot with shitty timing,” Mercedes said flatly.
“What?”
“No way in the hell am I not kissing you if you’da sung that to me in New York!”
His smile was wide and relieved. “Really?”
“Boy, if we were together right now, I woulda been tackled you!”
“I think I suddenly know why Puck is so fond of Lauren right now,” Sam said, anticipating the day Mercedes would.
“And Lauren is badass.”
“That too.”
“How far away is Labor Day?” she whined.
“Too damn far,” he murmured lowly.
“I hate this almost as much as I love you,” Mercedes said.
Sam bounced on the balls of his feet proudly, still staring at the Little Dipper’s brightest star. “I love you too.”
“And, to reiterate, you are not dumb, so don’t ever fix your mouth to say that foolishness again!”
“Yes, ma’am!’
Mercedes laughed at his affected Tennessee drawl. “I know you were kidding there, but I have to say I’m loving the deepened Southern accent you have now, Sam. I noticed traces of it when I hung around your family, but now it’s so there.”
“It’s like slippin’ into a favorite pair of shoes,” Sam said.
“I want to visit there one day,” she told him.
“It’s not Memphis, because I think you’d enjoy the music there a bit more, but it’s still amazing,” Sam said, now pacing in the meager front yard and staring at his feet. “I’ve taken a cue from you and started some performing gigs down here. Actually have had some good responses.”
“Again, am I supposed to be surprised?” Mercedes asked.
He laughed and shook his head. “I suppose not, then.”
“You’re catching on, Evans,” she said, and he imagined her gorgeous smile.
“Because I’m not dumb.”
“Say it again!”
“I’m not dumb!” Sam crowed, pumping his fist in the air.
“But you’re mine,” Mercedes said. “Which proves how smart you are to manage getting a woman like me!”
“Perspective, I has it,” he deadpanned.
Mercedes laughed and made another kissing sound. “I’m going to bed now, baby. I promised to meet Rachel and Kurt for breakfast tomorrow morning and I have to be at the shop by nine still.”
“Have a good night, Mercedes,” he said. “And thank you…for everything.”
“Of course, baby. I’m always here for you-we all are. You still have your glee family; remember that.”
When the call ended, Sam stood straighter, buoyed by Mercedes’s words.
He was ready to kick senior year’s ass.