The Twists of Fate (6/6)
Title: The Twists of Fate
Length: ~ 10 000 words
Pairing: Kum
Summary: Five ways Sam and Kurt could have gotten better acquainted but didn't, and the one way they did.
Parts 1-5/6 here
“Hey man, what’s up?”
No matter how many times he had mentally rehearsed his speech on his way there, Sam found his tongue was tied to the root of his mouth. He contented himself with offering a rather sickly smile to Finn, who immediately seemed concerned.
“Come on in. Kurt just made some cookies, they’re all healthy and stuff but they’re awesome anyway.”
The smell in the hallway was indeed rather heavenly, Sam admitted distractedly as he entered the Hummel-Hudson home, but he couldn’t help doubting Finn’s apparent belief that cookies would make everything better. He ended up following the tall teen to the kitchen anyway, figuring it was as good a place as any for what he needed to say.
***
“You’re going where?”
Finn’s whole body expressed his incredulity as he span on his heels to face Sam from where he had been searching the fridge for some milk, eyes wide and curiously indignant. Sam looked away and in the process met Kurt’s intense gaze before deciding the floor was probably safer to turn to.
“Back to Kentucky. My parents, they, um, couldn’t find another job in Lima, and we have family there. They’ll help until we can…” Sam made a vague gesture meant to enclose give the kids an education and afford to live outside a motel, or perhaps just get our dignity back. “Find our footing again.”
Hurrah for euphemisms.
“So you’re, uh, moving from here?”
Bravo, Finn, that is indeed what going back to Tennessee implies, Sam thought a bit unkindly, though he outwardly just nodded.
“And, er, when are you going?”
And there was the clincher.
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Kurt exclaimed, obviously startled into reacting. Finn said nothing, just staring at him.
This had been a bad idea, a very bad idea. Sam threw a longing glance at the door, wondering whether he could go now, peripherally aware that Finn and Kurt were having a hushed conversation which eventually resulted in Finn leaving the room, mumbling something about finding some History notes Sam had supposedly lent him as he went.
The tall teen’s departure left behind a silence that seemed unbreakable to Sam, thick enough with tension to make him feel like he was choking on every breath he took. Kurt was resolutely not looking at him, his hands slowly flexing and relaxing by his sides.
“Why?”
The word, suddenly dropped from Kurt’s lips, might as well have been a gunshot to Sam’s frazzled nerves.
“W-what do you mean? I already told you, we need help from-”
Kurt cut him off almost immediately, exasperation ringing clearly in his voice.
“I understand why you’re leaving, Sam. I just wished to know why you didn’t consider it necessary to tell m- to tell us you were leaving before today.”
“I haven’t known for that long myself, just two weeks or so,” Sam tried, briefly looking up and dropping his eyes back to the floor as he met Kurt’s unimpressed stare. “And there were exams and prom and I guess it just seemed like it would bother everyone needlessly.”
“You thought it would bother us?” Kurt repeated slowly, making Sam wince.
“A little, yeah?” It turned into a question in his mouth. “Plus every time I tried to think about it and about how I’d tell all of you, the moment I had to leave seemed to get closer and closer and eventually it was just easier not to think about it, you know?”
Kurt let out a sigh at that, deflating a little from his indignant posture and grudgingly nodding.
Sam waited for him to add something, but he didn’t, so he resumed looking at the floor instead. Who knows how long they would have stayed this way, occasionally throwing glances at each other, if Finn hadn’t made it back to the kitchen a few moments later, his hands conspicuously empty.
Sam wondered then, even as he went to shake Finn’s hand and found himself drawn in a tight embrace instead, if those were to be the last words Kurt and him would exchange before his departure, but Kurt followed him to the door and started speaking once more, although he kept his eyes away from Sam’s.
“How am I supposed to survive Math class now?” Kurt’s tone was deliberately light.
Sam smiled a little; they had gotten used, in the last few months since Kurt’s return to McKinley, to sit side by side in Math and keep a piece of paper between them to scribble notes on, hidden from their dreaded teacher’s hawk eyes. They had almost gotten in trouble more than once, when Sam couldn’t help but laugh out loud at a particularly witty remark from Kurt.
“Who will help Stacie with her French homework?” Sam teased in reply.
“Wherever will I find someone to teach me some more Na’vi?”
“What will I do with myself on Saturday mornings, if there’s no one to send me links to their favorite musicals?”
“Oh don’t worry, I won’t stop sending you those anytime soon - your education is far from over.”
Kurt finally raised his eyes to meet his, even as his voice got serious.
“Actually, I’ll write. Often. And you’d better write as well - emails, don’t worry, I know you’re not a big fan of letters.”
Sam just nodded.
“I’m serious. At least once a week.”
Sam nodded again, feeling his throat close. Kurt fell silent and took a step forward, and suddenly Sam was enclosed in another hug. He immediately raised his arms and closed them around his slender friend in return, not sure whether he was offering or accepting comfort as he embraced Kurt tightly.
The hug went on for a long time, neither boy being very inclined to letting the other go, until Sam felt Kurt slowly break apart from him. They exchanged slightly stilted goodbyes, knowing they had said all they needed to, and then it was time to go.
The past two weeks had been a bit of a blur for Sam, and only then, as Kurt went back inside and closed the front door, did it really hit him; this was it. He was leaving, leaving Lima, McKinley, the slushies, New Directions, Santana’s customary smirk and rare smile, Rachel’s theatrics, Finn’s bouts of anger and of wonderfulness. He was leaving Kurt, who had somehow managed to become his closest friend in the past difficult months.
It was all a bit hard to believe.
***
Sam kept his promise, although it was a near thing on the first week, when he was kept busy moving in his aunt’s house. It wasn’t exactly a mansion, but she lived alone and seemed only too glad to welcome them in her life. And honestly, after living in a cramped room with his whole family, sharing a medium-sized bedroom with an adjacent bathroom with Stevie felt like the height of luxury.
His aunt’s home wasn’t that far away from where they had previously lived, but not nearly close enough to justify trying to see his former friends on the evening, and so it was that after he was finished with his day job, he regularly found himself settling in front of his aunt’s antic computer, typing page after page to Kurt. It would have been pretty embarrassing if Kurt hadn’t replied just as often and in an even lengthier manner, and Sam wondered a bit at all the free time his friend seemed to be having, before remembering - with an unwarranted jolt of exasperation - that Blaine was currently away at Six Flags.
In any case, they kept a regular correspondence, and Sam thought there was something liberating in sharing his thoughts with someone whose immediate reaction you couldn’t see. Actually, he had more than once found himself regretting sending an email a few seconds after doing so, when he had been just a bit too honest, his feelings a bit too raw, but Kurt never seemed to judge him for any of it. Thinking back, Sam realized this had been a constant in their relationship - for all his perceptive and oftentimes cutting statements about people in their math class, Kurt had always been careful not to offer judgment on Sam’s actions or inactions, whether in the “duet fiasco”, as Sam now thought of it, or later, when Sam had shamelessly taken advantage of Kurt’s compassion and helpfulness once his friend had found out about his new living conditions. Truth be told, it was quite ironic that it had taken being apart from Kurt for Sam to understand just how much he prized this quality in his friend.
When Sam thus confided in Kurt - about his fears for the future, Stacy’s reluctance to eat when their aunt cooked for them or even some annoying customers at work, it didn’t only make him feel lighter, as if a burden had been taken off his shoulders; more often than not, it also made Kurt reply in kind. It was never obvious, but Sam soon learnt to read between the lines, especially when it came to Kurt’s boyfriend. Even though Kurt mentioned Blaine only in passing - Sam barely knew him, after all - and always in positive terms, there was an underlining tension in those brief mentions. Blaine has been keeping busy, Kurt would write, or I hope we’ll get to see each other more often than last year, even if we still go to separate schools.
After this last email, Sam wondered if it was expected of him to encourage Kurt to ask Blaine to transfer. He wasn’t sure he wanted to - any time Kurt would spend with Blaine was likely to be taken out of the time he spent in front of his computer, virtually connecting with Sam - so he just sent some noncommittal encouraging words back. Two hours later, properly ashamed of his egoistic reaction, he went back on the computer and composed another email, adamantly telling Kurt it was well within his rights as a boyfriend to at least ask Blaine to consider transferring to McKinley.
Three weeks and a half within the holidays, Sam had to create a special folder for Kurt in his mailbox, surprised to find they had sent about 60 messages each. Apart from their daily long email, they often sent each other short notes about a point of interest in their day, using emails as a replacement for texting since Sam had stopped paying for his cellphone subscription six months ago.
Two weeks later, Kurt emitted the idea of using Skype. Sam was strangely reluctant, even though his dyslexia had always made him prefer talking to writing. Emails were their thing now; they had helped creating a sphere of communication in which Sam felt perfectly comfortable, and he hated the idea of the awkwardness that was likely to show up if they tried to talk through interposed webcams. In the end, he apologized and explained his aunt’s computer was much too slow for him to skype with (probably not a lie, now he thought about it) and Kurt didn’t mention it again, apparently happy to continue as they had been.
And so it was that Kurt kept him updated on what happened at school: about Blaine’s decision to join him in McKinley, his fear that he would not make it to NYADA, Rachel’s suggestion to run for school president - which Sam enthusiastically encouraged - Brittany’s dubious help and then her defection. Sam told him about his new school in return: about how the tryouts for the football team had gone, about the way his math teacher was even more boring than the one they had in McKinley, about Travis, the only real friend he had made. In November, he told Kurt before he even told his parents that Travis had talked to him about a mysterious new job that’d pay really well, and Kurt rejoiced with him.
When he realized what this new job precisely entailed, he didn’t mention it at all to Kurt in two weeks, even when his friend asked him about this mysterious offer. He wondered, even as he got more comfortable doing body-rolls in front of the crowd and started raking in more and more tips, what Kurt would make of all this. He toyed with the idea of simply telling him the same lie he had told his parents. In the end, one late night, when he came home with a record 86 dollars in his pocket after a celebratory beer with Travis, he crept up to the small stuffed room upstairs where his aunt kept her computer and sent a one-line email.
My new job is pretty cool btw…I’m working as a stripper in a bar not far from home.
After sending it, he considered the likelihood that Kurt would think it a joke and wrote another short email.
My nickname is White Chocolate (lame, I know) and my specialty is body-rolls.
Then he went to bed and fell asleep easily.
Over the next two days, he considered a hundred times sending a quick email where he’d pretend he was only kidding as he waited for Kurt to answer, and he renounced a hundred times. When the answer finally came, he just stared at the unread message for five whole minutes before finally clicking on it, rolling his eyes at himself. It was pretty laconic as well.
Now I have yet another reason to visit…what was the name of the bar again? ;)
Sam burst out laughing in relief and promptly replied, sending a much longer email describing every single bonus and drawback of his new job - as well as the address of the bar, of course.
He thought nothing of it for the next month, until one evening when, going through his usual routine, he almost fell from the stage when he saw no one else but Rachel Berry handing him a one-dollar bill, her face modestly bent towards the floor.
He joined her backstage afterwards, finding Finn and Kurt there as well. He could tell, just by looking at the way Kurt’s mouth was twitching, that the brunet was pretty proud of himself for giving nothing away to either of his friends. He thought about being annoyed - a bit of warning would have been nice - but it was so amazing to see him again that he engulfed the smaller teen in a hug instead, remembering only as Kurt let out a small laugh and hugged him in return that he was still half-naked.
The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur. In between admonitions about his job that made him grind his teeth - until he caught the exaggerated eye-roll Kurt sent in Finn’s and Rachel’s direction, at which point he just had trouble not laughing out loud - he got that the three of them were hoping he could come back to McKinley and help them win Sectionals. The whole idea seemed completely unrealistic - even though the offer was tempting, did they really think he could just pack up and leave?
But as they talked, as they easily rebuilt the camaraderie he remembered from his time in McKinley, as Kurt kept sending him small, almost secret smiles, as he learnt that he would stay with Finn and Kurt if he decided to go, the question subtly shifted from whether he would go to how he could possibly make his parents agree. He even found himself thinking it wasn’t impossible, after all - they were still at his aunt’s, so there was no rent to worry about, his mom had a part-time job again, Stacy had warmed up to their aunt, he had a growing amount of money he hadn’t told his parents about, considering it would be quite complicated to explain how he could possibly win so much at the Dairy Queen (as it was, they kept exclaiming on how lucky they were that he had found such a great offer). It was only for a few months, up until the summer holidays, and, well, if he were to be completely honest, it’d feel good to get away. He’d do anything for his family, but he was also exhausted; being part of the adults instead of the kids, worrying about money, working five evenings a week - it had taken its toll, and this opportunity to go back to a time when his first preoccupation had been to reconcile his love of music and his desire for popularity was terribly attractive.
In the end, it was precisely this last argument that won his parents over. Kurt’s presence helped immensely as well, and Sam was glad he had had the presence of mind to catch him by the sleeve when he had gotten up from the table, intending to follow Finn and Rachel out of the room; his parents remembered him as an extremely helpful and mature young man and he left them no doubt that Sam would be well taken care of - he also conveyed, with his usual discretion, that neither Sam or him would ever let the family’s living conditions deteriorate once more.
And so it was decided; a week and a half after the trio’s visit, Sam said goodbye to his siblings and parents and put his luggage in the truck of Kurt’s navigator. Kurt, who had graciously offered to cross the border again in order to help him move, sent him an excited grin as he sat down next to him, briefly pressing Sam’s hand with his own, and Sam couldn’t help but grin in return at his friend, the doubts that had started resurging in the past week disappearing instantly. At this precise moment, and for the first time in months, Sam Evans, with Kurt Hummel at his side, felt ready to take on anything the world would throw at him.
Length: ~ 10 000 words
Pairing: Kum
Summary: Five ways Sam and Kurt could have gotten better acquainted but didn't, and the one way they did.
Parts 1-5/6 here
“Hey man, what’s up?”
No matter how many times he had mentally rehearsed his speech on his way there, Sam found his tongue was tied to the root of his mouth. He contented himself with offering a rather sickly smile to Finn, who immediately seemed concerned.
“Come on in. Kurt just made some cookies, they’re all healthy and stuff but they’re awesome anyway.”
The smell in the hallway was indeed rather heavenly, Sam admitted distractedly as he entered the Hummel-Hudson home, but he couldn’t help doubting Finn’s apparent belief that cookies would make everything better. He ended up following the tall teen to the kitchen anyway, figuring it was as good a place as any for what he needed to say.
***
“You’re going where?”
Finn’s whole body expressed his incredulity as he span on his heels to face Sam from where he had been searching the fridge for some milk, eyes wide and curiously indignant. Sam looked away and in the process met Kurt’s intense gaze before deciding the floor was probably safer to turn to.
“Back to Kentucky. My parents, they, um, couldn’t find another job in Lima, and we have family there. They’ll help until we can…” Sam made a vague gesture meant to enclose give the kids an education and afford to live outside a motel, or perhaps just get our dignity back. “Find our footing again.”
Hurrah for euphemisms.
“So you’re, uh, moving from here?”
Bravo, Finn, that is indeed what going back to Tennessee implies, Sam thought a bit unkindly, though he outwardly just nodded.
“And, er, when are you going?”
And there was the clincher.
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Kurt exclaimed, obviously startled into reacting. Finn said nothing, just staring at him.
This had been a bad idea, a very bad idea. Sam threw a longing glance at the door, wondering whether he could go now, peripherally aware that Finn and Kurt were having a hushed conversation which eventually resulted in Finn leaving the room, mumbling something about finding some History notes Sam had supposedly lent him as he went.
The tall teen’s departure left behind a silence that seemed unbreakable to Sam, thick enough with tension to make him feel like he was choking on every breath he took. Kurt was resolutely not looking at him, his hands slowly flexing and relaxing by his sides.
“Why?”
The word, suddenly dropped from Kurt’s lips, might as well have been a gunshot to Sam’s frazzled nerves.
“W-what do you mean? I already told you, we need help from-”
Kurt cut him off almost immediately, exasperation ringing clearly in his voice.
“I understand why you’re leaving, Sam. I just wished to know why you didn’t consider it necessary to tell m- to tell us you were leaving before today.”
“I haven’t known for that long myself, just two weeks or so,” Sam tried, briefly looking up and dropping his eyes back to the floor as he met Kurt’s unimpressed stare. “And there were exams and prom and I guess it just seemed like it would bother everyone needlessly.”
“You thought it would bother us?” Kurt repeated slowly, making Sam wince.
“A little, yeah?” It turned into a question in his mouth. “Plus every time I tried to think about it and about how I’d tell all of you, the moment I had to leave seemed to get closer and closer and eventually it was just easier not to think about it, you know?”
Kurt let out a sigh at that, deflating a little from his indignant posture and grudgingly nodding.
Sam waited for him to add something, but he didn’t, so he resumed looking at the floor instead. Who knows how long they would have stayed this way, occasionally throwing glances at each other, if Finn hadn’t made it back to the kitchen a few moments later, his hands conspicuously empty.
Sam wondered then, even as he went to shake Finn’s hand and found himself drawn in a tight embrace instead, if those were to be the last words Kurt and him would exchange before his departure, but Kurt followed him to the door and started speaking once more, although he kept his eyes away from Sam’s.
“How am I supposed to survive Math class now?” Kurt’s tone was deliberately light.
Sam smiled a little; they had gotten used, in the last few months since Kurt’s return to McKinley, to sit side by side in Math and keep a piece of paper between them to scribble notes on, hidden from their dreaded teacher’s hawk eyes. They had almost gotten in trouble more than once, when Sam couldn’t help but laugh out loud at a particularly witty remark from Kurt.
“Who will help Stacie with her French homework?” Sam teased in reply.
“Wherever will I find someone to teach me some more Na’vi?”
“What will I do with myself on Saturday mornings, if there’s no one to send me links to their favorite musicals?”
“Oh don’t worry, I won’t stop sending you those anytime soon - your education is far from over.”
Kurt finally raised his eyes to meet his, even as his voice got serious.
“Actually, I’ll write. Often. And you’d better write as well - emails, don’t worry, I know you’re not a big fan of letters.”
Sam just nodded.
“I’m serious. At least once a week.”
Sam nodded again, feeling his throat close. Kurt fell silent and took a step forward, and suddenly Sam was enclosed in another hug. He immediately raised his arms and closed them around his slender friend in return, not sure whether he was offering or accepting comfort as he embraced Kurt tightly.
The hug went on for a long time, neither boy being very inclined to letting the other go, until Sam felt Kurt slowly break apart from him. They exchanged slightly stilted goodbyes, knowing they had said all they needed to, and then it was time to go.
The past two weeks had been a bit of a blur for Sam, and only then, as Kurt went back inside and closed the front door, did it really hit him; this was it. He was leaving, leaving Lima, McKinley, the slushies, New Directions, Santana’s customary smirk and rare smile, Rachel’s theatrics, Finn’s bouts of anger and of wonderfulness. He was leaving Kurt, who had somehow managed to become his closest friend in the past difficult months.
It was all a bit hard to believe.
***
Sam kept his promise, although it was a near thing on the first week, when he was kept busy moving in his aunt’s house. It wasn’t exactly a mansion, but she lived alone and seemed only too glad to welcome them in her life. And honestly, after living in a cramped room with his whole family, sharing a medium-sized bedroom with an adjacent bathroom with Stevie felt like the height of luxury.
His aunt’s home wasn’t that far away from where they had previously lived, but not nearly close enough to justify trying to see his former friends on the evening, and so it was that after he was finished with his day job, he regularly found himself settling in front of his aunt’s antic computer, typing page after page to Kurt. It would have been pretty embarrassing if Kurt hadn’t replied just as often and in an even lengthier manner, and Sam wondered a bit at all the free time his friend seemed to be having, before remembering - with an unwarranted jolt of exasperation - that Blaine was currently away at Six Flags.
In any case, they kept a regular correspondence, and Sam thought there was something liberating in sharing his thoughts with someone whose immediate reaction you couldn’t see. Actually, he had more than once found himself regretting sending an email a few seconds after doing so, when he had been just a bit too honest, his feelings a bit too raw, but Kurt never seemed to judge him for any of it. Thinking back, Sam realized this had been a constant in their relationship - for all his perceptive and oftentimes cutting statements about people in their math class, Kurt had always been careful not to offer judgment on Sam’s actions or inactions, whether in the “duet fiasco”, as Sam now thought of it, or later, when Sam had shamelessly taken advantage of Kurt’s compassion and helpfulness once his friend had found out about his new living conditions. Truth be told, it was quite ironic that it had taken being apart from Kurt for Sam to understand just how much he prized this quality in his friend.
When Sam thus confided in Kurt - about his fears for the future, Stacy’s reluctance to eat when their aunt cooked for them or even some annoying customers at work, it didn’t only make him feel lighter, as if a burden had been taken off his shoulders; more often than not, it also made Kurt reply in kind. It was never obvious, but Sam soon learnt to read between the lines, especially when it came to Kurt’s boyfriend. Even though Kurt mentioned Blaine only in passing - Sam barely knew him, after all - and always in positive terms, there was an underlining tension in those brief mentions. Blaine has been keeping busy, Kurt would write, or I hope we’ll get to see each other more often than last year, even if we still go to separate schools.
After this last email, Sam wondered if it was expected of him to encourage Kurt to ask Blaine to transfer. He wasn’t sure he wanted to - any time Kurt would spend with Blaine was likely to be taken out of the time he spent in front of his computer, virtually connecting with Sam - so he just sent some noncommittal encouraging words back. Two hours later, properly ashamed of his egoistic reaction, he went back on the computer and composed another email, adamantly telling Kurt it was well within his rights as a boyfriend to at least ask Blaine to consider transferring to McKinley.
Three weeks and a half within the holidays, Sam had to create a special folder for Kurt in his mailbox, surprised to find they had sent about 60 messages each. Apart from their daily long email, they often sent each other short notes about a point of interest in their day, using emails as a replacement for texting since Sam had stopped paying for his cellphone subscription six months ago.
Two weeks later, Kurt emitted the idea of using Skype. Sam was strangely reluctant, even though his dyslexia had always made him prefer talking to writing. Emails were their thing now; they had helped creating a sphere of communication in which Sam felt perfectly comfortable, and he hated the idea of the awkwardness that was likely to show up if they tried to talk through interposed webcams. In the end, he apologized and explained his aunt’s computer was much too slow for him to skype with (probably not a lie, now he thought about it) and Kurt didn’t mention it again, apparently happy to continue as they had been.
And so it was that Kurt kept him updated on what happened at school: about Blaine’s decision to join him in McKinley, his fear that he would not make it to NYADA, Rachel’s suggestion to run for school president - which Sam enthusiastically encouraged - Brittany’s dubious help and then her defection. Sam told him about his new school in return: about how the tryouts for the football team had gone, about the way his math teacher was even more boring than the one they had in McKinley, about Travis, the only real friend he had made. In November, he told Kurt before he even told his parents that Travis had talked to him about a mysterious new job that’d pay really well, and Kurt rejoiced with him.
When he realized what this new job precisely entailed, he didn’t mention it at all to Kurt in two weeks, even when his friend asked him about this mysterious offer. He wondered, even as he got more comfortable doing body-rolls in front of the crowd and started raking in more and more tips, what Kurt would make of all this. He toyed with the idea of simply telling him the same lie he had told his parents. In the end, one late night, when he came home with a record 86 dollars in his pocket after a celebratory beer with Travis, he crept up to the small stuffed room upstairs where his aunt kept her computer and sent a one-line email.
My new job is pretty cool btw…I’m working as a stripper in a bar not far from home.
After sending it, he considered the likelihood that Kurt would think it a joke and wrote another short email.
My nickname is White Chocolate (lame, I know) and my specialty is body-rolls.
Then he went to bed and fell asleep easily.
Over the next two days, he considered a hundred times sending a quick email where he’d pretend he was only kidding as he waited for Kurt to answer, and he renounced a hundred times. When the answer finally came, he just stared at the unread message for five whole minutes before finally clicking on it, rolling his eyes at himself. It was pretty laconic as well.
Now I have yet another reason to visit…what was the name of the bar again? ;)
Sam burst out laughing in relief and promptly replied, sending a much longer email describing every single bonus and drawback of his new job - as well as the address of the bar, of course.
He thought nothing of it for the next month, until one evening when, going through his usual routine, he almost fell from the stage when he saw no one else but Rachel Berry handing him a one-dollar bill, her face modestly bent towards the floor.
He joined her backstage afterwards, finding Finn and Kurt there as well. He could tell, just by looking at the way Kurt’s mouth was twitching, that the brunet was pretty proud of himself for giving nothing away to either of his friends. He thought about being annoyed - a bit of warning would have been nice - but it was so amazing to see him again that he engulfed the smaller teen in a hug instead, remembering only as Kurt let out a small laugh and hugged him in return that he was still half-naked.
The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur. In between admonitions about his job that made him grind his teeth - until he caught the exaggerated eye-roll Kurt sent in Finn’s and Rachel’s direction, at which point he just had trouble not laughing out loud - he got that the three of them were hoping he could come back to McKinley and help them win Sectionals. The whole idea seemed completely unrealistic - even though the offer was tempting, did they really think he could just pack up and leave?
But as they talked, as they easily rebuilt the camaraderie he remembered from his time in McKinley, as Kurt kept sending him small, almost secret smiles, as he learnt that he would stay with Finn and Kurt if he decided to go, the question subtly shifted from whether he would go to how he could possibly make his parents agree. He even found himself thinking it wasn’t impossible, after all - they were still at his aunt’s, so there was no rent to worry about, his mom had a part-time job again, Stacy had warmed up to their aunt, he had a growing amount of money he hadn’t told his parents about, considering it would be quite complicated to explain how he could possibly win so much at the Dairy Queen (as it was, they kept exclaiming on how lucky they were that he had found such a great offer). It was only for a few months, up until the summer holidays, and, well, if he were to be completely honest, it’d feel good to get away. He’d do anything for his family, but he was also exhausted; being part of the adults instead of the kids, worrying about money, working five evenings a week - it had taken its toll, and this opportunity to go back to a time when his first preoccupation had been to reconcile his love of music and his desire for popularity was terribly attractive.
In the end, it was precisely this last argument that won his parents over. Kurt’s presence helped immensely as well, and Sam was glad he had had the presence of mind to catch him by the sleeve when he had gotten up from the table, intending to follow Finn and Rachel out of the room; his parents remembered him as an extremely helpful and mature young man and he left them no doubt that Sam would be well taken care of - he also conveyed, with his usual discretion, that neither Sam or him would ever let the family’s living conditions deteriorate once more.
And so it was decided; a week and a half after the trio’s visit, Sam said goodbye to his siblings and parents and put his luggage in the truck of Kurt’s navigator. Kurt, who had graciously offered to cross the border again in order to help him move, sent him an excited grin as he sat down next to him, briefly pressing Sam’s hand with his own, and Sam couldn’t help but grin in return at his friend, the doubts that had started resurging in the past week disappearing instantly. At this precise moment, and for the first time in months, Sam Evans, with Kurt Hummel at his side, felt ready to take on anything the world would throw at him.