A/N Heeellloooooooo?! Anyone there? Echo! ECHO! hehe. So sorry. We pulled another disappearing act but we are back, slowly but surely! Bri and I have been working on goodies together and separately! So, here's the new chapter! Please leave us some love since it gives us life!

The day the bet was revealed; Mercedes dodged Finn and headed to Breadstix to tell Puck what happened. She hadn't seen her friend look so enraged in a long time. He was the only one she'd ended up crying in front of while explaining what had happened. Her tears extinguished much of Puck's visible anger, however, and he'd calmed himself enough to comfort her.

"I'm going to kill him." He kept his hand behind her head, keeping her close.

"No, you're not," Mercedes spoke softly against his chest, "because I can't afford bail money."

The two barely laughed, and but Mercedes found it a little easier to do as the afternoon turned to evening. She stayed in back, working on homework and keeping Puck company on his breaks. Before they knew it, the work day was over. Puck gave his best friend a ride home after closing up the restaurant. As he drove away from the Jones home, he found himself wishing he had never pushed her to spend time with Sam Evans.

Since then, Mercedes had little trouble avoiding Sam and his clique at school throughout the remainder of the week He'd come to Breadstix during one of her weekend shifts, but he caught her duck into the kitchen while Mr. Puckerman ended up demanding he leave for bothering his staff. Visibly crestfallen, he'd obliged but hadn't given up trying to speak to her. Her phone held a number of texts and a few voicemails: "Mercedes, it's me…Sam. Of course it's Sam…who else would it be. Fuck!" Dead Silence.

"Mercedes, I'm sorry. Please give me a chance to explain this to you. Finn's an asshole…No, I'm an asshole. Please, just let me talk to you."

She deleted the messages and threads and instead, decided it was best to focus on what remained of her senior year. Soon, the voicemails stopped and after blocking Sam's number on her phone, she never even knew when he was attempting to call her.

The day before prom, while Artie's morning announcements carried through the speakers, Mercedes was at her locker with Puck, exchanging a couple of notebooks out. His announcement didn't carry the same spunk they usually did and seemed a bit rush, something only Mercedes and Puck actually noticed.

"Ah. Hey guys. This is a quick one. Swimming is cancelled, the varsity baseball game is at 4 not 5 and Amber, baby, Chord's got a special surprise waiting for you after class. Lovebirds. Isn't it nice, ya'll? Isn't love nice? When you got that special someone, you hang on to that. You don't let it go and step on its heart like it's the biggest plague on Earth. No, people-you tend to that and…gotta go." There was some rustling in the background and the On Air light went off.

As the announce came to an abrupt end, Mercedes tried to conclude her conversation. She shook her head again, still searching through her locker and let out a determined, "No."

"What do you mean you're not gonna go? I thought you and I were gonna help Lauren crash and just hang out together—the three of us."

Mercedes could hear the pout in Puck's voice but she shook her head, "You should go with Lauren. You guys don't need my help getting her into the dance, and truth be told, I think it'd be odd hanging with her the entire time considering who her brother is."

Puck folded his arms, leaning perpendicular against the cold, red metal, "Right." He scowled but it quickly recovered, "What about prom queen? Jacob Ben Israel says you and Quinn are neck and neck in the polls."

"So? Quinn's gunning for this, so I'm sure she's gonna get it in the end. And I never cared about prom queen, so I don't exactly feel obligated to be there."

While Puck let out a defeated sigh, he softened his voice, "I just think you could still have a good time if you went, Cedes. How will I deal without my favorite dance partner?"

Mercedes shut her locker and turned to face him with a response, but just past his shoulder, she could see a familiar blonde head nearing. After wiping the automatic glare from her face, she muttered, "I'll see you later," and turned on her heels, shoving her notebook into her bag as she strode away, ducking into a nearby bathroom.

"Hey, Merc—"

"Puck!"

Noah arched a brow, looking to his right at Wade's familiar voice. "Hey Wade. You literally just missed your…sis..ter…"

Wade's alert eyes made an obvious glance to his left, causing Puck to turn all the way around. The quizzical mold of his features turned accusatory when Sam reached them.

Sam's hands were shoved into his letterman's jacket pockets, notebook tucked under an arm. He nodded 'hello' to them both while mumbling, "Hey Wade, Puck."

"Beat it, Evans. We've got nothing to say to you."

"Actually, that's not true. I've got plenty to say to him," Wade said. The bell rang overhead

While fleetingly sizing up Puck—and deciding that should things escalate to anything physical, he'd rather not take on the mohawked teen—Sam nearly grimaced at Wade, "I know you guys are pissed at me, but I really need to talk to Mercedes."

"You know I used to look up to you, a lot," Wade flatly reminded Sam, ignoring his plea. "But now I'm just disgusted by you. You made a bet using my sister." The nervousness of being around Sam had all but gone—whether Puck's presence had anything to do with it or not was unsure. "She trusted you, and do you even know how big of a deal that is for her to do?"

"I…" Sam started, but he'd come up short on a retort. Everyone was rightfully against him. He had already dealt with his brother this morning during the announcements. Artie was just as pissed as Wade, and Puck and Lauren wouldn't even look at him.

At Sam's lack of response, Puck interjected, "No. You don't know. So I'm gonna say this again, beat it, Evans."

"Look, I know and it isn't fair for me to ask but…just…please ask her to call me. I want to make things right between us." He felt the lump in his throat the moment he said the word "us" knowing fully well there was no such thing and a very slim chance of there ever being a Sam and Mercedes.

Wade rolled his eyes and Puck continued to glare as Sam finally backed away and let them be. He wasn't sure how much more he could do to get Mercedes' attention but he wasn't ready to give up on trying.

On his way to Astronomy, he heard a familiar voice rasp, "Sam, wait up!" For a split second, he considered acting like he hadn't heard her but the second of pausing his strides had already given him away. Rather than staying where he was, he merely slowed his steps approaching the door to his class.

The skirt of her salmon-colored dress swished with her strides, and when she reached him, Sam finally looked up at her face. Blonde locks lightly curled in at her chin; tan, short-brimmed sun hat and an overtly kind smile on her lips. Her books were clamped in one hand and in her other hand, she was extending a small, brown-colored Starbucks drink. Sam stared at it and then at her again.

"It's a java chip frappucino. No whip."

Though it held no humor whatsoever, Sam cracked a smile as he replied, "I don't drink coffee. But thanks. I'm glad you know me so well."

Her smile vanished and her lips formed a thin line on her face, but she dispelled it. "It was a peace offering. I don't want us to fight anymore."

"What do you want, Quinn?"

"For us to go to prom together. I know you were hurt when we broke up but think about it—we talked about finishing our senior year like this, and now we can. Maybe even see where things go afterward…"

Sam stared at her in disbelief of what he was hearing. He hissed another humorless chuckle and reached for the doorknob. Quinn leaned over his arm, partially putting herself between him and the door. "Pick me up at 8, Sammy." And after a quick wink, Sam watched her flounce away, dropping the coffee in the nearest trashcan. Once upon a time that low, natural rasp would have him thinking of ice baths and naked seniors. Now, the echo of her voice in his head held no seduction—no spell over him. He waited for the echo to fade and continued into his class, driving his thoughts back to who now bewitched him.

The varsity baseball team played their final game that afternoon, and the Titans had won it. The team was feeling buoyant in the locker room, especially the seniors, excluding Sam who had for once opted to go home right after the game and shower there. While changing clothes and cleaning out their lockers, Mike held up his number "2" jersey and sigh, "Man, what a great end to senior year, huh? The football team actually won a decent amount of games and now we've got some sweet victories in our pocket for the baseball team. And I'm still riding my high about heading to Chicago in the fall!"

Finn threw him a grin over his shoulder, "Yeah, all we've got left now is prom and graduation."

"True that. Who are you taking to prom?"

With a quick shrug and a shift in his smile, "C'mon bro, I told you. I'm taking Mercedes and you know she'll say 'yes'. Sam hasn't got a chance with her anymore and what a better way to drive the final nail in that coffin, huh?"

"Oh I could think of better," muttered Mike with a roll of his eyes. As soon as he realized he'd spoken the words aloud, however, he regretted it and rushed to say, "Not to say that'd necessarily be better."

"Whoa, whoa now, Chang. I think you might be onto something. Am I hearing a bet from you too? You don't think Jones'll wanna take a roll in the sheets with me?" Finn slung an arm around Mike's neck but Mike quickly ducked out of it, shaking his head profusely.

"No way, dude. And bet or no bet, that's not cool."

"C'mon, don't get all saintly on me now."

Mike hardened his gaze, "I'm not making any bets with you, Hudson."

The two stared each other down until Finn eased the tension with some breathy chuckles, "Alright, dude. Relax." He turned his back to pick up his gym bag while saying, "I've gotta pick up my tux. You already have yours?"

"Yeah. Got mine yesterday." Unlike Finn, all the tension hadn't merely rolled off of Mike's back. Chagrinned by this guy he'd considered a friend for some time, Mike closed his locker, shouldered his bag and muttered, "See you tomorrow."

" .hell was that?" Artie flung his arms around dramatically rolling in front of his brother so him wouldn't be able to walk up the stairs.

"Not now, Artie…I've got things to take care of." Sam wasn't sure which he'd tackle first. He had to respond to the college acceptance letters; he had to file for financial aid since he wasn't preparing to lean on his parents to pay his way. He had to win Mercedes back, and he needed to get some sleep.

"You hijacked my show!"

"I saved myself from humiliation!" Sam balked back, staring at his sibling right in the eyes. He knew Artie would be pissed when he strode into the office and pulled the PA mic plug, leaving the cord end out of Artie's reach. "You can't do that, Artie! You can't just meddle into people's lives and expect them to be okay with it?"

"Well, you can't go placing bets and ruining someone's life! I mean, do you even like Mercedes? She's the best thing that happened to you since Lauren and i were born, and you go and throw all that shit away for a high five from who? Finn Hudson?! You know what, Sam? You are JUST like dad. You are a clone of him!" After a few seconds of glaring down his older brother, Artie wheeled to the side. "Forget it. I'm not wasting my time on you anymore.."

"Artie…"

"This morning, I thought I'd come in here and I'd talk to you about what happened and I'd be real nice about it because I don't like beating a dead horse and maybe you already felt guilty about everything that was going on but no. Even now, even when I tried helping you, you still think about your sorry ass! So I would have humiliated you? Cry me a river. Maybe you need a little humility because it looks like that's what your life is missing."

Sam closed his eyes to rest them for a couple of seconds and gather his thoughts. He walked over to the couch and sat down, his brother following him.

"I do like her…" he whispered, admitting it to himself and to his brother. "And I messed it up. I know you were trying to help this morning but I wasn't just thinking of me. Mercedes hates giant, public romantic gestures and that kind of attention. I think that's partly why she kept blowing me off at first. She's different. Different from other girls I have ever met and I wasn't prepared to fall for her like I have. Not because of what I was doing with the bet, but... after I found out what she had been through, it would be an invasion of the little privacy she has left. I have to go about it a different way."

Artie searched his brother's face for sincerity and he found it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said back there…about Dad. I just don't get why you did the things you've done. Why you ignore me, why you did the bet, why you care so much about who's who. I never understood it." He took a deep breath. "So, what's your plan?"

"You don't owe me any apologies. This is my doing. It was my senior year and I didn't get to share any of my high school career with my brother. I've been selfish and I need to make up for it. I'm sorry, Artie." He reached for his brother's shoulder and smiled. "The plan? I don't really have one. I'm just going to take it easy for a little while so I don't ruin people's lives anymore. And when this prom thing blows over, I'll talk to her. I owe her that much. And... I'm going to accept my school of choice this weekend. Today, maybe. I have to go online and accept."

Artie nodded, offering his brother's hand a squeeze. He would be lying if he said he didn't yearn for this moment. "You're forgiven." He chuckled and his eyes brightened. "School of choice? Which would that be?"

"I'll tell you soon. But first…dad." Sam stood up and looked around. "Where is he anyway?"

"Garage. You know how he gets when he's in his moods. He starts pulling apart more of that damn car. He's with that Rivera guy. Hey, do you think dad was a mechanic or something when he was our age?"

Sam scoffed and threw his head back in amusement. "Dad? A mechanic? Yeah, right. I've never seen him do more than put air in tires, but maybe I can help him. And maybe you can help me get Lauren to talk to me again?"

"Yeah, of course." Artie watched as his brother made his way outside their home and couldn't help but crack a small smile. He was glad his brother was seeing the error of his ways and he only hoped Mercedes would one day see it too.

"Alright, Julio. So you're telling me the brake fluid is the problem? Well, dammit. I should have known." Dwight Evans chuckled, patting the young boy's back. While Julio was wiping grease off his fingers with a rag, Mr. Evans looked like he had been spectating through the auto work. "Hopefully we'll have this baby running in no time." He drank out of his beer bottle and appraised the pulled apart 1979 Skylark. "What a beauty."

"It's a beautiful car, Mr. Evans. It's going to run real smooth too. You'll have to wait and see. You've got an eye for cars, sir!" Julio teased and the two laughed.

Sam heard the laughter from the garage and curiously peeked his head in. "Dad?"

Dwight heard his son's voice and Julio placed his soda on the table nearby. "We'll talk later. My mom probably wants me in time for dinner so I can set the table." Julio waved goodbye and nodded to Sam on his way out.

"Bye..." Sam's voice trailed as he looked towards his father who was sporting a grin. He never worked on the Skylark with him or Artie yet it seemed like he had a new son to bond with. "Julio Rivera. He's on the opposing baseball team. Great pitcher."

"I know." Mr. Evans' grin faded and he grabbed a rag to wipe the car. "He's going to be in the major leagues someday."

"Right."

"And your mother and I are setting up a scholarship for him. I think it would be nice."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. "His family is loaded and I'm sure he's been offered every scholarship under the sun."

"Really?" Dwight Evans looked up, confused by the information. "Well, one more wouldn't hurt, huh?"

Sam was becoming visibly annoyed, knowing where his dad was steering the conversation. "Dad. We need to talk."

"I'm all ears." The older man took another sip of his beer.

"I've heard back from every school i applied to. I got into all of them." Sam watched his dad's face light up, only diminish it by adding, "But I'm not going to an Ivy League school."

Yikeeesssss! Any thoughts on what Sam will be telling dear ol' daddy? And how long until Samcedes talk again? IF they talk? Leave us your thoughts on this chapter!