Sam was settled. As settled as he could be when surrounding himself with grunting footballers, and avoiding the glaring fact he was in to a guy. That he was avoiding like the plague because he was scared shitless. But it didn't stop him being curious about Kurt and even, the Glee club.
He saw one of the kids - the one in the wheelchair... Artie, he thought he heard him get called, end up with a slushie facial and ever since seeing it, he felt guilty, even though he'd had no part in it at all. So, rather than sit at the table with the footballers for his lunch - which he examined very closely before allowing onto his tray - he walked over towards the other guy, and gestured to the table opposite him.
Artie glanced up at the owner of the voice, frowning slightly. Wasn't this guy a football player, and if so, why did he want to sit with him, of all people?
He even went so far as to look around to see if he meant someone else. On not seeing anyone he replied, "Uh, no. Go ahead."
"Thanks, Man." He sat then, trying to keep his smile steady even when he saw Artie frown. He understood that; this school seemed worse than his last about segregating the footballers from other kids unless they passed some dumbass test on 'cool'. Hence his utter paranoia and determination to actually be this set idea of 'cool'.
Artie watched him as he sat down, surprised that he actually did it. "Yeah, I am. You're the new footballer, aren't you?" Really, didn't this guy know that footballers and geeks weren't supposed to mingle?
"Yeah, I am," he smiled a small smile at that. Step one of operation 'be cool!' complete. People knew he played football. Maybe he was about to dint his reputation here but he'd been brought up better than to throw slushies at people, or at least to not feel bad when he saw it happening.
"Thanks for letting me sit here. Had a feeling I'd get better conversation here, than over there. I don't speak grunt. Not fluently, anyway."
Artie laughed, stopping himself quickly. He did not want to draw attention to the fact that he was sitting for lunch with a footballer. It was the fastest way to either get another slushie or a quick trip into a port-a-potty, with the thought of it being rolled.
"I don't know, man. It wasn't as bad at my old school, but you still had two, three of the guys that seemed to be pretty fluent in it. Too many knocks to the head, I think," he shrugged, smiling as he poked at his food. Though he was sure nothing was wrong with it, he was wary every single time he ate there. He ate the minimum; so many empty calories in the food, if nothing else.
"Probably something to do with the sport," Artie replied. He tended not to watch much football. "And not wearing helmets when training or something."
He looked at Sam. "Yeah, I am, that normally means a slushie in the face, so I'm curious why you want to know." He was a little bitter about having to clean himself up again this morning.
He slowly nodded in understanding, leaning in slightly. "I'm not gonna slushie you, man. I'm not into that kind of thing. I saw you get one earlier and I guess, even though it wasn't me? I wanted to say sorry or... something."
Leaning back, he attempted a mouthful of food - lord knows what it was - and pulled a face as he lowered his fork back down. Looked like it was fruit and juice for his lunch today instead.
"I know Kurt. Kind of. He's a... good guy. Figured if he's cool, you guys must just have a bad rep and not be so bad."
Artie watched him for a moment, still not totally convinced, but nodded, then shrugged. "They'll still happen. We get used to it as much as we can." Though the patriotic wedgie was going a little too far.
He looked at his own plate of food, and continued to eat. He'd pretty much got a cast iron stomach by now.
"Kurt is cool, yeah, though I'm not sure about our rep. It's a bit of an outcasts group it seems. Well, apart from the Cheerios who've joined."
"Yeah, I heard about that. That's gotta help, right?" it had to add some sort of credibility to Glee club. Which... was good, considering the crazy idea he had that he might try out. One day. Eventually. To impress Kurt, if he ever got the nerve up.
"Well... you might not believe me, but this is one footballer that won't hurl a slushie your way."
"We'll see," Artie shrugged. He personally didn't think that it would make any difference in the long run, but if it helped for a few weeks, he'd take it. "Depends on how long they stay."
He looked at Sam curiously. "What, even if one of the other players demands it of you?"
"Look, man, I'm giving you my word here. In my world? That's that. I don't break my word. If another player tries to demand it of me, I won't do it. Yeah, I wanna settle in there and be cool but not at the expense of guys like you that haven't done anything to me," he had no reason at all to do anything to harm Artie. The guy hadn't done anything to bother him, and he had no issue with Glee club. They were just another group of people having fun doing what they do.
Artie watched Sam for a moment, taking in what he was saying. He wanted to believe him, but it would take him time to actually accept it. However, he'd take him at his word for now, and then nodded. "Okay," he said. "Forgive my scepticism. Too many bad moments."
He saw one of the kids - the one in the wheelchair... Artie, he thought he heard him get called, end up with a slushie facial and ever since seeing it, he felt guilty, even though he'd had no part in it at all. So, rather than sit at the table with the footballers for his lunch - which he examined very closely before allowing onto his tray - he walked over towards the other guy, and gestured to the table opposite him.
"Seat taken, dude?"
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He even went so far as to look around to see if he meant someone else. On not seeing anyone he replied, "Uh, no. Go ahead."
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"I'm Sam. You're... Artie, right?"
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"Thanks for letting me sit here. Had a feeling I'd get better conversation here, than over there. I don't speak grunt. Not fluently, anyway."
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"I think they learn it from birth here."
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"You're in Glee club, right? With Kurt?"
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He looked at Sam. "Yeah, I am, that normally means a slushie in the face, so I'm curious why you want to know." He was a little bitter about having to clean himself up again this morning.
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Leaning back, he attempted a mouthful of food - lord knows what it was - and pulled a face as he lowered his fork back down. Looked like it was fruit and juice for his lunch today instead.
"I know Kurt. Kind of. He's a... good guy. Figured if he's cool, you guys must just have a bad rep and not be so bad."
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He looked at his own plate of food, and continued to eat. He'd pretty much got a cast iron stomach by now.
"Kurt is cool, yeah, though I'm not sure about our rep. It's a bit of an outcasts group it seems. Well, apart from the Cheerios who've joined."
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"Well... you might not believe me, but this is one footballer that won't hurl a slushie your way."
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He looked at Sam curiously. "What, even if one of the other players demands it of you?"
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