fic: D is for Lysdexia
Authors: emocezi and setos_puppy
Title: D is for Lysdexia
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 4393
Disclaimer: We do not own Glee now do we make any profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: Since setos_puppy and I share a brain, we sometimes get together and write craziness. I write a blurb and then she writes a blurb and we mash them together with rainbows and glory.
"Kurt, could you come here a minute?" The gleek half turned from where he was discussing the last chapter of Animal Farm with Mercedes and wandered over to the Mr. Rublen's desk.
"Yes?"
"This is Sam, he's having some trouble with this class and I volunteered you for tutoring." Kurt stared in horror at the teacher, then snapped his spine straight and turned to face the new quarterback who had helped throw him in the dumpster a couple of times already. Nothing like picking on the gay kid to help cement your place in high school society.
"I'd love to help. Really." He plastered a fake smile on his face. "But I'm already tutoring Finn in Spanish."
Sam shifted on his feet, looking down at the floor as he hitched up his messenger bag and then looked back at Kurt, whose wide blue eyes were as hard as diamonds. "I... um... I'd really appreciate it, Kurt."
Kurt frowned at the blond jock and then looked over to Mr. Rublen, then back to Sam. He knew the reason Mr. Rublen had picked him was because he was already in AP English as a side.
When he looked at Mercedes she shrugged. Sam was slowly working his way into Glee, and he had seen Finn hanging out with him even if Sam had never set foot in the Hummel-Hudson household. Maybe he could pick up extra credit for it.
"Alright." Kurt pulled out a slip of paper and scribbled down his cell phone number. "Meet me in the choir room after Glee."
XxX XxX
Sam shifted nervously, he was just outside the choir room, listening to the sound of the music. He had fun singing with the guys when they'd tried to get him to join Glee. But he was trying to start off fresh at this school. He didn't need to be at the bottom of the food chain right off the bat.
Finally the Spanish teacher, whom he had been surprised to find doubled as the Glee teacher, clapped his hands and announced them done for today. The door opened and people started streaming out, everyone giving odd glances to Sam as they passed. He tightened his grip on his bag and reminded himself he was the quarterback. He was cool.
Finally, Puck and Finn wandered out, Kurt following just behind them and heaving a sigh as the boys in front of him talked video games. From the look on his face when he spotted Sam, he hadn't been expecting the jock to be here. That kind of hurt.
"Hey..." Sam ventured, offering a feeble, slowly dwindling smile. "We were going to study Animal Farm?"
"Uh... Yeah. Do you want to study here or...?"
Sam looked at Finn and then at Puck, then back to Kurt. "Um. We can, yeah."
Kurt nodded and looked to Finn. "I'll see you at home?"
"Sure. Have... Fun?"
Kurt gave a weak wave as they walked off before looking to Sam. "Come in." They entered the choir room and the door swung shut, it was empty but the sheet music was still resting on the piano top.
"What song were you guys singing?"
"All that Jazz, it's from --"
"Chicago. I've seen it." Kurt pursed his lips, and to Sam he looked a little pissed. Though if he'd been able to hear the gleek's thought's he would have been flattered.
Remember the LAST time you fell for the quarterback? Didn't end well did it. Doesn't matter if this one knows his musical's
"What chapter have you read up to?" Kurt asked, grabbing his book and perching on a chair. He ignored the way Sam slumped into his, though he did pick up on the guilty expression.
"You haven't read it yet?"
"I tried to. It's weird though."
"Is it your dyslexia or the fact that it's about talking animals?"
"Uh...what?"
"Sorry, used to explaining things to Finn." Kurt grimaced and then sighed. He was going to be here for a while.
"It's kind of both," Sam murmured, grimacing a little when he thought about trying to explain it to someone. "My brain can't seem to put the idea of anthropomorphic animals into a reality."
"Anthropomorphic. Wow... You actually have a brain in that jock head of yours."
"Uh, yeah. I'm dyslexic, not stupid."
Kurt bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling and opened his book. "Alright, well, do you know the main allegory of the book?"
"It has to do with Russia, right? And corruption?"
"Right. So Orwell uses the animals to show how the idea of Marxism, while in theory is a good thing, when it's put into practice it goes bad."
"Okay. Um, is it okay if I record this stuff so I can remember it for later?" Kurt shrugged and he watched as Sam pulled out a slim recorder and pressed record before setting it on the piano between them.
"Alright, how about we just go over the major plot points in the book for now?"
"Sounds good to me."
Kurt nodded and pulled out his notebook, flipping open to a page he scanned over it before swiping his fringe to the side. "Okay. One of the major things in the book is the idea of Animalism, the seven rules. When we watched the movie it talked about them. Do you remember what they are? It doesn't matter if they're in order or not."
"Um..." Sam squinted and tried to think back to the movie he had made sure to watch twice. "No animal shall wear clothes, no animal shall kill another animal, whatever walks on two legs is an enemy, whatever walks on four legs or has wings is a friend, no animal shall drink alcohol, no animal shall sleep in a bed, and... all animals are equal."
Kurt nodded his head, secretly proud inside. Seemed like not all jocks were as stupid as Finn or Puck. "Good job. Just curious, how bad is your dyslexia?" Sam shrugged and Kurt raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing you don't have a problem with sounds, or you would be taking notes as well as recording."
"I uh...mirror write sometimes."
"Like Davinchi?"
"Yeah. Though I'm not trying to keep my notes a secret from the world."
"Oh..." Kurt nodded his head. Averting his eyes from Sam, who was all shy smiles and milk white skin and his stupid, horrible, eye scorching Justin Beiber style haircut. He needed to focus on helping Sam and then getting the hell out of there before he got called a fag by another McKinley High football jock.
"So, what's Glee like?"
"Glee is Glee. Finn said you sang, he said you were good. Is there a reason you didn't want to join?"
"I didn't want to be outcast a second time, it isn't fun. I mean at my last school they --" Sam cut himself off and looked towards the sheet music. "Never mind."
"Gee, I have no idea what that's like." Kurt rolled his eyes, then jumped in his chair when his phone vibrated. He tugged it out and smiled fondly at the where r u?. His father could take apart an engine and put it all back together, but he was barely literate when it came to cellphones.
At school. Tutoring someone in English. Be home soon. <3
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." Sam looked down at his feet and Kurt sighed, packing his things back into his bag and standing.
"Don't worry about it. Though a lesson on not becoming a social pariah here. You might not want to hang around the Glee kids. The gay might rub off on you." Kurt caught the subtle jolt Sam gave and tapped his fingers against his thigh. That was interesting.
"There... Isn't anything wrong with being gay." Kurt rose a brow at the gentle mumble Sam said into his bag.
"I know that. However, most of the jocks you associate with don't. This is Lima, Ohio, where queer bashing is a national pastime. Or did you not read the memo? Why do you think you and your sports buddies toss me in the dumpster? Because I like it?"
"I..." Sam screwed his mouth shut and looked to his feet. "I'm sorry." Kurt stared at the jock for a few seconds, then turned on his heel and walked away. Not about to get into another round of 'the jock has a heart, he's not a bad person, he just has bad friends'
"Kurt, wait."
"I get it. New school, new friends, gotta fit it."
"Wait, I-."
"Don't. Don't apologize and be all buddy-buddy. I don't care if your lying to yourself so you can play the part of the all American football hero. I've already got enough drama in my life, I don't need you adding any more."
"Look, I'm sorry... I..." Sam sighed heavily. "Not all of us can be confident."
Kurt made a noise of disbelief. "Confident? You're deluded, Evans."
"Look, you don't have to bitch at me, I apologized, if you want to put all your energy in being unnecessarily angry, then feel free."
Kurt gaped at Sam before shaking his head. "Figures. It really figures. I let myself think that for a second you're different, you're not. You're the typical lumbering jock who thinks I'm an ice queen, good for you, you can stereotype. Now, if you'll excuse me, your white bread highness, I need to go be stereotypically gay."
Sam opened his mouth to reply but Kurt had already brushed past him and the door to the choir room slammed shut, leaving him alone in the oppressive silence. Sam looked down at his feet. "I'm gay too..."
XxX XxX
A week passed before Sam seemed to get the courage to approach Kurt again. Once more lurking outside the music room, like he was afraid that entering the small room would bring about a change that could never be reversed.
He grabbed Kurt's arm the second he passed through the door and pulled him away from Mercedes and Artie.
"What are you doing? You are wrinkling my Versace sweater. Get your hands off me." Kurt hissed, swatting ineffectively at him.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" Kurt stared incredulously at him for a few moments before making an irate noise and turning to wave his friends away. They moved a few steps and stopped, staring at Kurt as if to keep Sam from shoving him into a locker, or worse.
"What do you want?"
"I..." Sam swallowed thickly. "You.. you sing good." He finally managed to stammer out, his eyes plastered to the floor.
"What?"
"You were singing right? That was you singing Willkommen from Cabaret?" Kurt tilted his head, looking at Sam, trying to fight the urge to smile dopily at the fact the jock not only liked his singing, but also knew which musical it was from. That was kind of sexy. But Kurt knew better than to be dragged in by flash and dazzle.
"And?"
"I... You have amazing range. Like Sarah Brightman amazing."
Kurt frowned. "Thank you for comparing me to a woman."
"What, no. I didn't mean it like that." Kurt stared at him for a moment, then huffed and rolled his eyes. Fingers flicking to his bangs to make sure they were perfect.
"What are you doing?"
"Talking...to you?"
"Exactly. Why?" Sam shrugged and Kurt glared.
"Stop it. We're not friends. We're not even acquaintances. You want to fit in here, to not be bullied like you were at your last school? Then stay away from me."
"I..." Like you? Now have the mental image of you in tight, short pants and suspenders and nothing else? "Don't care about all that. I... Why can't I be your friend and be in football?"
"Because it doesn't work that way. This isn't New York, or California, or where ever you transferred from; you can't clique mingle."
"Well. I think that's stupid."
Kurt huffed. "Well, if that's it, Mercedes and I were going to go shopping."
"You should sing Mein Herr. The low timber would suit your voice."
"I'm a counter tenor."
"With an amazing range. Lower register would be..." Sexy? Hot? Mind meltingly amazing? "Cool."
Kurt eyed Sam for a long moment, tilting his head both ways. For a straight boy he knew his musical art. "Maybe I'll sing it if you audition for Glee."
"I...what?" Sam's eyes went wide and Kurt smirked suddenly.
"You've heard me sing. It's a little unfair don't you think?"
"Uh...." Sam suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights and Kurt decided to leave it at that, rather then risk alienating the jock who apparently wouldn't get the message about clique jumping until he got his slushied for the first time. Then he'd learn.
Sam sighed and licked his lips, he watched Kurt retreating with Mercedes, before stepping towards him, throwing caution to the wind. "Where do I sign up?"
Kurt froze, and turned slowly, genuine shock written all over his features. "What?"
"I said, where do I sign up?"
Kurt rose a brow. If this one thought that he could do what Puck did, and even he got attacked, and co-mingle, let him try. "Go talk to Mr. Shuester."
Sam nodded and turned on his heel, headed towards Shuester's office, leaving Kurt stare at where he had been in genuine shock and perhaps even pride.
XxX XxX
"Alright guys, we have a new member." The entire Glee club was silent, staring at Sam who gave a little wave. "You all know Sam."
Mercedes leaned over to whisper at Kurt, who swatted at her, lips twitching as he looked curiously at Sam. "You gotta hand it to that boy, he doesn't give up."
"So hi. I'm Sam, I like comic books and sports." He decided to leave out the bit about being dyslexic, seeing as how everyone probably knew it already. "I didn't think I'd be into singing, but it's fun."
He really didn't give up and Kurt wondered what the hell made Sam so interested. He wondered if Sam could sing.
"Well Sam... Why don't you sing something for us?"
Sam nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets and clearing his throat. "What should I sing?"
"Whatever comes to mind."
"How about... Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi?"
Will nodded his head and stood back as Sam took a deep breath and began to sing.
If Rachel's eyes got any wider they would pop out of her skill. She kept looking from Sam to Finn, like she was planning on replacing her lead male vocals as soon as the blonde jock stopped singing.
Even Puck seemed into it, though it could have just been the song. Kurt winced when Mercedes dug her nails into his arm. Sure, it was exciting, but now he was going to have bruises.
When Sam finished the song there was a burst of applause and Sam ducked his head down and blushed, his apparent modesty making Kurt narrow his eyes, especially when Sam peeked out from under his Beiber bangs and grinned at him.
Damn, the ball was back in his court now. He pulled out his nail file, nodded coolly in Sam's direction and refused to acknowledge him anymore then necessary.
For all he knew, this was still some elaborate prank to pull on the gay kid for kicks. He'd save Mein Herr for another day, when he knew Sam well enough to tease him with the lyrics properly.
"Good job! Welcome, welcome! Feel free to take a seat. Do you know everyone?"
Sam swept his eyes over the group of people, he knew some of their faces, and some of their names, but others, he didn't. Like the girl clinging to Finn like a vulture. "I'm good."
"Alright." Sam spotted a chair between Mike and Artie and snagged it, keeping his eyes low, avoiding looking at Kurt at all costs.
"Today we're going to sing Come Together, by the Beatles..." Mr Schue said, picking up the sheet music and handing out small booklets to everyone. Sam took his and peered down at the jumble of music notes and letters and frowned before tossing it aside. He didn't need a headache. Not right now.
"You should go help him."
"What? What?"
"Sam, did you see the way he looked at the sheet music?"
"I'm sure he'll be fine. Everyone has heard this song at least once."
"Kurt. Get your white boy ass over there and help out that hot, blonde quarterback before I decide to."
"I hate you." Kurt glared at Mercedes, then wondered how exactly he was going to get over to Sam, who sat three chairs over, without making a big deal out of it.
In the end he thwacked Mercedes over the head with his sheet music, earning a grin from her and a confused look from the rest of the class and motioned Sam over. The quarterback picked up his chair and scurried over. Kurt gritted her teeth and tried to smile at the earnest look Sam was trying not to shoot him.
"Need some help with the sheet music?"
"No, it's fine." Sam tried to say, but looked away at the look Kurt fixed upon him. "Okay, yeah... I can't really make sense of it." Kurt nodded and unfurled his sheet, pointing to each note and explaining them. He bit his lip when he saw Sam grow frustrated at the formulas and complex scales.
"I'm not getting this."
"Okay... Think of the the Treble Staff this way..." Kurt pulled out a piece of blank paper and quickly drew out a basic treble staff. "One way to remember the lines which are E, G, B, D, F is: Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge. When it comes to the Bass Staff, it's G, B, D, F, A, or Good Boys Don't Fight Anyone. And the spaces: A, C, E, G is All Cows Eat Grass. Does that help?"
Sam laughed softly before gently taking Kurt's piece of paper and sketching a boy eating a plate of fudge beside the Treble Staff and a boy not fighting anything and a cow eating grass beside the Bass Staff. "There. Now I'll remember."
Kurt eyed the drawings, which were crude but adorable, with a small smile. "Good job."
Mr. Schue led them through the song once and then let them go through it on their own. Sam's voice overpowered Finn's and Rachel looked like she was about to jump down his throat for having a better voice then her boyfriend.
Rachel seethed for the rest of class after Sam got praised by Mr. Schue, and Kurt had to admit, even if he'd been a royal jerk he would have sided with Sam just to piss Rachel off.
"Why is she looking at me like that?" Sam asked as they packed up to head home.
"That's Rachel," Mercedes identified, "girl gets mad at anyone who steals her or Finn's thunder."
Sam eyed the girl who was shooting daggers at him as Finn packed up her bag and offered a polite smile and wave. If possible, her look started to drip acid. Sam recoiled and picked at a thread on his bag. "Um... Should I go apologize?"
Kurt sighed and looked up from his Burberry bag and brushed his fringe back before fixating an icy glare on Rachel who reared back and turned her glare to a sickly sweet smile.
Sam looked between Kurt and Rachel. What was going on?
"What's she doing, she looks like an evil clown..."
Mercedes snickered. "She's trying to intimidate Kurt because she thinks she's more deserving of the lime light than everyone else and Kurt's telling her to back off."
"How do you know that?"
Mercedes just shrugged and tapped Kurt on the shoulder. "We're going to miss that shoe sale if you keep at it." Mercedes turned to Sam. "Want to come with?"
"Won't he be mad?"
Mercedes looked to Kurt, who had resumed poking through his bag for his scarf. He probably would. But the way Sam was making moon eyes was cute. "Nah."
XxX XxX
"Those ones Cedes. Those would look divine."
"I'd never be able to walk in those."
"I don't think they were made for walking." Sam comments, the four inch heels making his feet cramp just by looking at them. There's silence and Sam glances over, wondering if he said something wrong. Instead Mercedes is clutching her heart and Kurt appears to be wiping tears away. "Guys?"
"Sorry. Sorry." Mercedes grins and pats Sam on the arm, then links her other arm with Kurt's. "We're just not used to anyone knowing which shoes are for walking and which are for looking fab in."
"Oh. Sam shuffles his feet, watching Kurt out of the corner of his eye. The slimmer boy tosses his head back like a Prima Donna and heads into the store like he's ready to do battle.
Mercedes grins back at Sam who follows, feeling like a lost puppy. "This is gonna be good."
"What?" Sam managed quickly before Mercedes clamped down on his arm and dragged him deeper into the store.
"You'll see."
Sam stumbled as he was pulled around a shelf of shoes only to get a shoe to chest at a velocity that he was sure was only meant for deadly weapons and gasped as air rushed from his lungs. "Ow..."
"I was right, they weren't Prada!"
"You're always right."
"Of course I am."
Sam rubbed his chest and picked up the shoe, which he turned over and peered at the label. "What's wrong with these? Silence settled in the room and Sam found himself looking at Kurt who was staring at something rivaling horror. "What?"
"Those are fake." That was about the time a sales clerk spotted them and came rushing over. Mercedes had a shit eating grin and Sam was still confused.
"I see you found the new Prada line. Aren't they just fabulous?"
"They would be. If they were actual Prada."
"I beg your pardon?" The sales clerk looked affronted.
"Look at the stitching on these. Do you see it?"
"Yes."
'That's the problem. Oh, and the glaringly obvious fact that Prada should be stamped into the sole." Kurt sniffed in disdain. "I can't believe you're selling knock off Prada for full price."
"Shut up kid." The clerk hissed. "I'll give you a deal on those shoes if you keep your mouth shut."
"What sort of a deal are we talking?" Mercedes asked, tucking an arm around Kurt's waist.
"Half off."
"Please, I could get these from eBay for half off. Keep going and I won't talk to your manager."
"Eighty percent and any three accessories you want."
Kurt tapped his fingers against his chin. "What do you think, Cedes?"
Mercedes hummed and looked to Sam. "What do you think?"
"Make it five."
The clerk made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. "Who are you his boyfriend."
"Oh look. Now she's being a bigot. How about the shoes for free?" Sam suggested casually, trying to swallow the knot in his throat and quell the icy pit in his stomach.
"Okay. Okay. Five accessories and eighty percent off."
Kurt sniffed, eying the shoes with disinterest. "Deal." Sam had expected Kurt to explode at the boyfriend remark. Instead the pale boy acted as if nothing had happened. Though the moment they left the store Kurt had grinned and punched him in the arm. Sam blinked a little, unsure as how to proceed with the straight-male-sign-of-approval.
"That was awesome. You are awesome." Mercedes gushed, hugging Sam tightly.
"All right. Latte's or ice cream?" Kurt asked, tapping his chin.
"Ice Cream." Mercedes and Sam said in unison and Kurt blinked at them and gave a mock shudder.
"That was creepy. Don't do it again. Ice cream it is." They left the store with shoes and a hat for Mercedes, three scarfs for Kurt and after a lot of prompting, a hat for Sam, they headed towards the food court to get ice cream.
"What kind are you getting?" Mercedes asked as they waited on the escalator.
"I'm thinking mint chocolate chip.:
"Really?" Kurt asked as he looked over at Sam. "That's my favorite."
Score! "Cool."
"I'm thinking mocha." Mercedes mused aloud.
"Please don't. Then this will turn into the time where you riffed for twenty minutes in the Gap." Kurt deadpanned, making Sam laugh.
Two cups and a cone later found the trio at a table in the corner. They seemed to be getting along rather well, until Kurt felt eyes on the back of his neck.
He pushed the bag of merchandise under the table and pulled up his collar, watching Mercedes do the same. Sam looked bewildered for a second before a shadow fell across the table.
"Evans."
"Karofsky. What's this about?" Rather then talk, the tall jock smirked and brought a cup from behind his back. Mercedes shut her eyes and held her breath and Kurt went to his happy place, knowing the cup wasn't filled with a slush. Not in the mall.
Sam had a second of comprehension before he was hit in the face with coke. He sputtered as the jocks walked away laughing.
"That's what I meant about clique jumping." Kurt said softly, handing Sam some napkins.
"That was more ice than coke." Sam grumbled taking the napkins and patting his face dry.
"You okay? Your eyes were open, I bet that was painful." Mercedes said, watching as the coke in Sam's hair slowly turned it brownish.
"Yeah. It burns a little, but I'm fine."
"Happy you joined glee now?" Kurt asked sarcastically as he assessed the damage to Sam's outfit. He'd need a new shirt. Time to stop at Gap before Sam jumped ship completely.
"Wouldn't change it for the world."
Title: D is for Lysdexia
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 4393
Disclaimer: We do not own Glee now do we make any profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: Since setos_puppy and I share a brain, we sometimes get together and write craziness. I write a blurb and then she writes a blurb and we mash them together with rainbows and glory.
"Kurt, could you come here a minute?" The gleek half turned from where he was discussing the last chapter of Animal Farm with Mercedes and wandered over to the Mr. Rublen's desk.
"Yes?"
"This is Sam, he's having some trouble with this class and I volunteered you for tutoring." Kurt stared in horror at the teacher, then snapped his spine straight and turned to face the new quarterback who had helped throw him in the dumpster a couple of times already. Nothing like picking on the gay kid to help cement your place in high school society.
"I'd love to help. Really." He plastered a fake smile on his face. "But I'm already tutoring Finn in Spanish."
Sam shifted on his feet, looking down at the floor as he hitched up his messenger bag and then looked back at Kurt, whose wide blue eyes were as hard as diamonds. "I... um... I'd really appreciate it, Kurt."
Kurt frowned at the blond jock and then looked over to Mr. Rublen, then back to Sam. He knew the reason Mr. Rublen had picked him was because he was already in AP English as a side.
When he looked at Mercedes she shrugged. Sam was slowly working his way into Glee, and he had seen Finn hanging out with him even if Sam had never set foot in the Hummel-Hudson household. Maybe he could pick up extra credit for it.
"Alright." Kurt pulled out a slip of paper and scribbled down his cell phone number. "Meet me in the choir room after Glee."
XxX XxX
Sam shifted nervously, he was just outside the choir room, listening to the sound of the music. He had fun singing with the guys when they'd tried to get him to join Glee. But he was trying to start off fresh at this school. He didn't need to be at the bottom of the food chain right off the bat.
Finally the Spanish teacher, whom he had been surprised to find doubled as the Glee teacher, clapped his hands and announced them done for today. The door opened and people started streaming out, everyone giving odd glances to Sam as they passed. He tightened his grip on his bag and reminded himself he was the quarterback. He was cool.
Finally, Puck and Finn wandered out, Kurt following just behind them and heaving a sigh as the boys in front of him talked video games. From the look on his face when he spotted Sam, he hadn't been expecting the jock to be here. That kind of hurt.
"Hey..." Sam ventured, offering a feeble, slowly dwindling smile. "We were going to study Animal Farm?"
"Uh... Yeah. Do you want to study here or...?"
Sam looked at Finn and then at Puck, then back to Kurt. "Um. We can, yeah."
Kurt nodded and looked to Finn. "I'll see you at home?"
"Sure. Have... Fun?"
Kurt gave a weak wave as they walked off before looking to Sam. "Come in." They entered the choir room and the door swung shut, it was empty but the sheet music was still resting on the piano top.
"What song were you guys singing?"
"All that Jazz, it's from --"
"Chicago. I've seen it." Kurt pursed his lips, and to Sam he looked a little pissed. Though if he'd been able to hear the gleek's thought's he would have been flattered.
Remember the LAST time you fell for the quarterback? Didn't end well did it. Doesn't matter if this one knows his musical's
"What chapter have you read up to?" Kurt asked, grabbing his book and perching on a chair. He ignored the way Sam slumped into his, though he did pick up on the guilty expression.
"You haven't read it yet?"
"I tried to. It's weird though."
"Is it your dyslexia or the fact that it's about talking animals?"
"Uh...what?"
"Sorry, used to explaining things to Finn." Kurt grimaced and then sighed. He was going to be here for a while.
"It's kind of both," Sam murmured, grimacing a little when he thought about trying to explain it to someone. "My brain can't seem to put the idea of anthropomorphic animals into a reality."
"Anthropomorphic. Wow... You actually have a brain in that jock head of yours."
"Uh, yeah. I'm dyslexic, not stupid."
Kurt bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling and opened his book. "Alright, well, do you know the main allegory of the book?"
"It has to do with Russia, right? And corruption?"
"Right. So Orwell uses the animals to show how the idea of Marxism, while in theory is a good thing, when it's put into practice it goes bad."
"Okay. Um, is it okay if I record this stuff so I can remember it for later?" Kurt shrugged and he watched as Sam pulled out a slim recorder and pressed record before setting it on the piano between them.
"Alright, how about we just go over the major plot points in the book for now?"
"Sounds good to me."
Kurt nodded and pulled out his notebook, flipping open to a page he scanned over it before swiping his fringe to the side. "Okay. One of the major things in the book is the idea of Animalism, the seven rules. When we watched the movie it talked about them. Do you remember what they are? It doesn't matter if they're in order or not."
"Um..." Sam squinted and tried to think back to the movie he had made sure to watch twice. "No animal shall wear clothes, no animal shall kill another animal, whatever walks on two legs is an enemy, whatever walks on four legs or has wings is a friend, no animal shall drink alcohol, no animal shall sleep in a bed, and... all animals are equal."
Kurt nodded his head, secretly proud inside. Seemed like not all jocks were as stupid as Finn or Puck. "Good job. Just curious, how bad is your dyslexia?" Sam shrugged and Kurt raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing you don't have a problem with sounds, or you would be taking notes as well as recording."
"I uh...mirror write sometimes."
"Like Davinchi?"
"Yeah. Though I'm not trying to keep my notes a secret from the world."
"Oh..." Kurt nodded his head. Averting his eyes from Sam, who was all shy smiles and milk white skin and his stupid, horrible, eye scorching Justin Beiber style haircut. He needed to focus on helping Sam and then getting the hell out of there before he got called a fag by another McKinley High football jock.
"So, what's Glee like?"
"Glee is Glee. Finn said you sang, he said you were good. Is there a reason you didn't want to join?"
"I didn't want to be outcast a second time, it isn't fun. I mean at my last school they --" Sam cut himself off and looked towards the sheet music. "Never mind."
"Gee, I have no idea what that's like." Kurt rolled his eyes, then jumped in his chair when his phone vibrated. He tugged it out and smiled fondly at the where r u?. His father could take apart an engine and put it all back together, but he was barely literate when it came to cellphones.
At school. Tutoring someone in English. Be home soon. <3
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." Sam looked down at his feet and Kurt sighed, packing his things back into his bag and standing.
"Don't worry about it. Though a lesson on not becoming a social pariah here. You might not want to hang around the Glee kids. The gay might rub off on you." Kurt caught the subtle jolt Sam gave and tapped his fingers against his thigh. That was interesting.
"There... Isn't anything wrong with being gay." Kurt rose a brow at the gentle mumble Sam said into his bag.
"I know that. However, most of the jocks you associate with don't. This is Lima, Ohio, where queer bashing is a national pastime. Or did you not read the memo? Why do you think you and your sports buddies toss me in the dumpster? Because I like it?"
"I..." Sam screwed his mouth shut and looked to his feet. "I'm sorry." Kurt stared at the jock for a few seconds, then turned on his heel and walked away. Not about to get into another round of 'the jock has a heart, he's not a bad person, he just has bad friends'
"Kurt, wait."
"I get it. New school, new friends, gotta fit it."
"Wait, I-."
"Don't. Don't apologize and be all buddy-buddy. I don't care if your lying to yourself so you can play the part of the all American football hero. I've already got enough drama in my life, I don't need you adding any more."
"Look, I'm sorry... I..." Sam sighed heavily. "Not all of us can be confident."
Kurt made a noise of disbelief. "Confident? You're deluded, Evans."
"Look, you don't have to bitch at me, I apologized, if you want to put all your energy in being unnecessarily angry, then feel free."
Kurt gaped at Sam before shaking his head. "Figures. It really figures. I let myself think that for a second you're different, you're not. You're the typical lumbering jock who thinks I'm an ice queen, good for you, you can stereotype. Now, if you'll excuse me, your white bread highness, I need to go be stereotypically gay."
Sam opened his mouth to reply but Kurt had already brushed past him and the door to the choir room slammed shut, leaving him alone in the oppressive silence. Sam looked down at his feet. "I'm gay too..."
XxX XxX
A week passed before Sam seemed to get the courage to approach Kurt again. Once more lurking outside the music room, like he was afraid that entering the small room would bring about a change that could never be reversed.
He grabbed Kurt's arm the second he passed through the door and pulled him away from Mercedes and Artie.
"What are you doing? You are wrinkling my Versace sweater. Get your hands off me." Kurt hissed, swatting ineffectively at him.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" Kurt stared incredulously at him for a few moments before making an irate noise and turning to wave his friends away. They moved a few steps and stopped, staring at Kurt as if to keep Sam from shoving him into a locker, or worse.
"What do you want?"
"I..." Sam swallowed thickly. "You.. you sing good." He finally managed to stammer out, his eyes plastered to the floor.
"What?"
"You were singing right? That was you singing Willkommen from Cabaret?" Kurt tilted his head, looking at Sam, trying to fight the urge to smile dopily at the fact the jock not only liked his singing, but also knew which musical it was from. That was kind of sexy. But Kurt knew better than to be dragged in by flash and dazzle.
"And?"
"I... You have amazing range. Like Sarah Brightman amazing."
Kurt frowned. "Thank you for comparing me to a woman."
"What, no. I didn't mean it like that." Kurt stared at him for a moment, then huffed and rolled his eyes. Fingers flicking to his bangs to make sure they were perfect.
"What are you doing?"
"Talking...to you?"
"Exactly. Why?" Sam shrugged and Kurt glared.
"Stop it. We're not friends. We're not even acquaintances. You want to fit in here, to not be bullied like you were at your last school? Then stay away from me."
"I..." Like you? Now have the mental image of you in tight, short pants and suspenders and nothing else? "Don't care about all that. I... Why can't I be your friend and be in football?"
"Because it doesn't work that way. This isn't New York, or California, or where ever you transferred from; you can't clique mingle."
"Well. I think that's stupid."
Kurt huffed. "Well, if that's it, Mercedes and I were going to go shopping."
"You should sing Mein Herr. The low timber would suit your voice."
"I'm a counter tenor."
"With an amazing range. Lower register would be..." Sexy? Hot? Mind meltingly amazing? "Cool."
Kurt eyed Sam for a long moment, tilting his head both ways. For a straight boy he knew his musical art. "Maybe I'll sing it if you audition for Glee."
"I...what?" Sam's eyes went wide and Kurt smirked suddenly.
"You've heard me sing. It's a little unfair don't you think?"
"Uh...." Sam suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights and Kurt decided to leave it at that, rather then risk alienating the jock who apparently wouldn't get the message about clique jumping until he got his slushied for the first time. Then he'd learn.
Sam sighed and licked his lips, he watched Kurt retreating with Mercedes, before stepping towards him, throwing caution to the wind. "Where do I sign up?"
Kurt froze, and turned slowly, genuine shock written all over his features. "What?"
"I said, where do I sign up?"
Kurt rose a brow. If this one thought that he could do what Puck did, and even he got attacked, and co-mingle, let him try. "Go talk to Mr. Shuester."
Sam nodded and turned on his heel, headed towards Shuester's office, leaving Kurt stare at where he had been in genuine shock and perhaps even pride.
XxX XxX
"Alright guys, we have a new member." The entire Glee club was silent, staring at Sam who gave a little wave. "You all know Sam."
Mercedes leaned over to whisper at Kurt, who swatted at her, lips twitching as he looked curiously at Sam. "You gotta hand it to that boy, he doesn't give up."
"So hi. I'm Sam, I like comic books and sports." He decided to leave out the bit about being dyslexic, seeing as how everyone probably knew it already. "I didn't think I'd be into singing, but it's fun."
He really didn't give up and Kurt wondered what the hell made Sam so interested. He wondered if Sam could sing.
"Well Sam... Why don't you sing something for us?"
Sam nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets and clearing his throat. "What should I sing?"
"Whatever comes to mind."
"How about... Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi?"
Will nodded his head and stood back as Sam took a deep breath and began to sing.
If Rachel's eyes got any wider they would pop out of her skill. She kept looking from Sam to Finn, like she was planning on replacing her lead male vocals as soon as the blonde jock stopped singing.
Even Puck seemed into it, though it could have just been the song. Kurt winced when Mercedes dug her nails into his arm. Sure, it was exciting, but now he was going to have bruises.
When Sam finished the song there was a burst of applause and Sam ducked his head down and blushed, his apparent modesty making Kurt narrow his eyes, especially when Sam peeked out from under his Beiber bangs and grinned at him.
Damn, the ball was back in his court now. He pulled out his nail file, nodded coolly in Sam's direction and refused to acknowledge him anymore then necessary.
For all he knew, this was still some elaborate prank to pull on the gay kid for kicks. He'd save Mein Herr for another day, when he knew Sam well enough to tease him with the lyrics properly.
"Good job! Welcome, welcome! Feel free to take a seat. Do you know everyone?"
Sam swept his eyes over the group of people, he knew some of their faces, and some of their names, but others, he didn't. Like the girl clinging to Finn like a vulture. "I'm good."
"Alright." Sam spotted a chair between Mike and Artie and snagged it, keeping his eyes low, avoiding looking at Kurt at all costs.
"Today we're going to sing Come Together, by the Beatles..." Mr Schue said, picking up the sheet music and handing out small booklets to everyone. Sam took his and peered down at the jumble of music notes and letters and frowned before tossing it aside. He didn't need a headache. Not right now.
"You should go help him."
"What? What?"
"Sam, did you see the way he looked at the sheet music?"
"I'm sure he'll be fine. Everyone has heard this song at least once."
"Kurt. Get your white boy ass over there and help out that hot, blonde quarterback before I decide to."
"I hate you." Kurt glared at Mercedes, then wondered how exactly he was going to get over to Sam, who sat three chairs over, without making a big deal out of it.
In the end he thwacked Mercedes over the head with his sheet music, earning a grin from her and a confused look from the rest of the class and motioned Sam over. The quarterback picked up his chair and scurried over. Kurt gritted her teeth and tried to smile at the earnest look Sam was trying not to shoot him.
"Need some help with the sheet music?"
"No, it's fine." Sam tried to say, but looked away at the look Kurt fixed upon him. "Okay, yeah... I can't really make sense of it." Kurt nodded and unfurled his sheet, pointing to each note and explaining them. He bit his lip when he saw Sam grow frustrated at the formulas and complex scales.
"I'm not getting this."
"Okay... Think of the the Treble Staff this way..." Kurt pulled out a piece of blank paper and quickly drew out a basic treble staff. "One way to remember the lines which are E, G, B, D, F is: Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge. When it comes to the Bass Staff, it's G, B, D, F, A, or Good Boys Don't Fight Anyone. And the spaces: A, C, E, G is All Cows Eat Grass. Does that help?"
Sam laughed softly before gently taking Kurt's piece of paper and sketching a boy eating a plate of fudge beside the Treble Staff and a boy not fighting anything and a cow eating grass beside the Bass Staff. "There. Now I'll remember."
Kurt eyed the drawings, which were crude but adorable, with a small smile. "Good job."
Mr. Schue led them through the song once and then let them go through it on their own. Sam's voice overpowered Finn's and Rachel looked like she was about to jump down his throat for having a better voice then her boyfriend.
Rachel seethed for the rest of class after Sam got praised by Mr. Schue, and Kurt had to admit, even if he'd been a royal jerk he would have sided with Sam just to piss Rachel off.
"Why is she looking at me like that?" Sam asked as they packed up to head home.
"That's Rachel," Mercedes identified, "girl gets mad at anyone who steals her or Finn's thunder."
Sam eyed the girl who was shooting daggers at him as Finn packed up her bag and offered a polite smile and wave. If possible, her look started to drip acid. Sam recoiled and picked at a thread on his bag. "Um... Should I go apologize?"
Kurt sighed and looked up from his Burberry bag and brushed his fringe back before fixating an icy glare on Rachel who reared back and turned her glare to a sickly sweet smile.
Sam looked between Kurt and Rachel. What was going on?
"What's she doing, she looks like an evil clown..."
Mercedes snickered. "She's trying to intimidate Kurt because she thinks she's more deserving of the lime light than everyone else and Kurt's telling her to back off."
"How do you know that?"
Mercedes just shrugged and tapped Kurt on the shoulder. "We're going to miss that shoe sale if you keep at it." Mercedes turned to Sam. "Want to come with?"
"Won't he be mad?"
Mercedes looked to Kurt, who had resumed poking through his bag for his scarf. He probably would. But the way Sam was making moon eyes was cute. "Nah."
XxX XxX
"Those ones Cedes. Those would look divine."
"I'd never be able to walk in those."
"I don't think they were made for walking." Sam comments, the four inch heels making his feet cramp just by looking at them. There's silence and Sam glances over, wondering if he said something wrong. Instead Mercedes is clutching her heart and Kurt appears to be wiping tears away. "Guys?"
"Sorry. Sorry." Mercedes grins and pats Sam on the arm, then links her other arm with Kurt's. "We're just not used to anyone knowing which shoes are for walking and which are for looking fab in."
"Oh. Sam shuffles his feet, watching Kurt out of the corner of his eye. The slimmer boy tosses his head back like a Prima Donna and heads into the store like he's ready to do battle.
Mercedes grins back at Sam who follows, feeling like a lost puppy. "This is gonna be good."
"What?" Sam managed quickly before Mercedes clamped down on his arm and dragged him deeper into the store.
"You'll see."
Sam stumbled as he was pulled around a shelf of shoes only to get a shoe to chest at a velocity that he was sure was only meant for deadly weapons and gasped as air rushed from his lungs. "Ow..."
"I was right, they weren't Prada!"
"You're always right."
"Of course I am."
Sam rubbed his chest and picked up the shoe, which he turned over and peered at the label. "What's wrong with these? Silence settled in the room and Sam found himself looking at Kurt who was staring at something rivaling horror. "What?"
"Those are fake." That was about the time a sales clerk spotted them and came rushing over. Mercedes had a shit eating grin and Sam was still confused.
"I see you found the new Prada line. Aren't they just fabulous?"
"They would be. If they were actual Prada."
"I beg your pardon?" The sales clerk looked affronted.
"Look at the stitching on these. Do you see it?"
"Yes."
'That's the problem. Oh, and the glaringly obvious fact that Prada should be stamped into the sole." Kurt sniffed in disdain. "I can't believe you're selling knock off Prada for full price."
"Shut up kid." The clerk hissed. "I'll give you a deal on those shoes if you keep your mouth shut."
"What sort of a deal are we talking?" Mercedes asked, tucking an arm around Kurt's waist.
"Half off."
"Please, I could get these from eBay for half off. Keep going and I won't talk to your manager."
"Eighty percent and any three accessories you want."
Kurt tapped his fingers against his chin. "What do you think, Cedes?"
Mercedes hummed and looked to Sam. "What do you think?"
"Make it five."
The clerk made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. "Who are you his boyfriend."
"Oh look. Now she's being a bigot. How about the shoes for free?" Sam suggested casually, trying to swallow the knot in his throat and quell the icy pit in his stomach.
"Okay. Okay. Five accessories and eighty percent off."
Kurt sniffed, eying the shoes with disinterest. "Deal." Sam had expected Kurt to explode at the boyfriend remark. Instead the pale boy acted as if nothing had happened. Though the moment they left the store Kurt had grinned and punched him in the arm. Sam blinked a little, unsure as how to proceed with the straight-male-sign-of-approval.
"That was awesome. You are awesome." Mercedes gushed, hugging Sam tightly.
"All right. Latte's or ice cream?" Kurt asked, tapping his chin.
"Ice Cream." Mercedes and Sam said in unison and Kurt blinked at them and gave a mock shudder.
"That was creepy. Don't do it again. Ice cream it is." They left the store with shoes and a hat for Mercedes, three scarfs for Kurt and after a lot of prompting, a hat for Sam, they headed towards the food court to get ice cream.
"What kind are you getting?" Mercedes asked as they waited on the escalator.
"I'm thinking mint chocolate chip.:
"Really?" Kurt asked as he looked over at Sam. "That's my favorite."
Score! "Cool."
"I'm thinking mocha." Mercedes mused aloud.
"Please don't. Then this will turn into the time where you riffed for twenty minutes in the Gap." Kurt deadpanned, making Sam laugh.
Two cups and a cone later found the trio at a table in the corner. They seemed to be getting along rather well, until Kurt felt eyes on the back of his neck.
He pushed the bag of merchandise under the table and pulled up his collar, watching Mercedes do the same. Sam looked bewildered for a second before a shadow fell across the table.
"Evans."
"Karofsky. What's this about?" Rather then talk, the tall jock smirked and brought a cup from behind his back. Mercedes shut her eyes and held her breath and Kurt went to his happy place, knowing the cup wasn't filled with a slush. Not in the mall.
Sam had a second of comprehension before he was hit in the face with coke. He sputtered as the jocks walked away laughing.
"That's what I meant about clique jumping." Kurt said softly, handing Sam some napkins.
"That was more ice than coke." Sam grumbled taking the napkins and patting his face dry.
"You okay? Your eyes were open, I bet that was painful." Mercedes said, watching as the coke in Sam's hair slowly turned it brownish.
"Yeah. It burns a little, but I'm fine."
"Happy you joined glee now?" Kurt asked sarcastically as he assessed the damage to Sam's outfit. He'd need a new shirt. Time to stop at Gap before Sam jumped ship completely.
"Wouldn't change it for the world."