Call Me Maybe

There she was. How could a girl be so beautiful? Sam Evans wondered. He wondered, and wondered some more as he inadvertently strolled into the teacher's lounge. He was greeted with a few confused stares, mixed in with a few stern ones. A voice came booming over him. "All right, goldylocks! Back out with the other pimple-faced hopeless wonders!" Sue Sylvester shoved him back out with the students, who didn't seem to notice what he'd done. He was thankful for that. Any form of ridicule on your first day wasn't a good way to jumpstart things, he figured.

She was gone now, though. Probably floated on back up to Heaven, he said to himself. "What?" said a dainty voice from behind him. "Excuse me, you're standing in front of my locker." He quickly turned around to apologize, but was stopped short. "I…uh…" was all he could stammer. Quinn Fabray offered a warm smile at him. She wasn't angry; she wasn't even annoyed, as she might have been with someone else. She found him oddly charming, yet she didn't even know his name.

He continued to stare. She repeated herself. "This is my locker," she said, irritated but understanding nonetheless. "Oh, right," he said, quickly backing up out of her way. His eyes never tore apart from her figure. She smiled and opened the creaking, metal door to her locker. She felt a little uncomfortable that he hadn't left yet. Maybe I need to use more Proactive, she thought.

"What's your name?" It came out awkwardly. He was trying to be suave, but he'd never had much luck with girls. (Going to an all-boys school would do that to a person.) She stood straight again, her long locks cascading over either shoulder. Her eyes were enough to pierce through him, and they practically did. "I'm Quinn." She paused for emphasis. "Quinn Fabray." Even her name was beautiful. "What's yours?"

"Sam." He mimicked her pause. "Sam Evans."

"I've never seen you around here before," she admitted. "Are you new?"

"Yeah, I just moved here. It's my first day."

They began to walk slowly, ignoring the hoards of students now pouring in. It was six minutes until the bell, and that was usually when people were at their most desperate. After all, who would arrive to school anymore than twenty-five minutes early?

She smiled at him. "Where did you move from?" She could tell he was a little nervous. He'd probably not had much of an interaction before, at least not with many girls. He had that small-town charmed slapped all over him. But it wasn't like Lima small. It was like…a nice small town, maybe one that you'd move to for their award-winning schools and successful, family-owned and operated eateries.

Before he could answer, though, he was greeted by an ice-cold, slushee facial. That didn't feel too good. He froze, his lips parted in horror. Maybe it was his small-town way of thinking, but he figured you were supposed to drink slushees, not wear them. "What the…?"

She watched them walk away, laughing like idiots. "Here, let me help you," she said as she led him to the girls' restroom. It was on the sports wing of the school; no one usually went there until after the final bell.

He walked in, dripping from head-to-toe with a red and blue mixture of corn syrup, ice, and sugar. It wasn't exactly a winning combination, at least not for eight in the morning. "Thanks," he said quietly. "But I don't want to get your dress ruined or have you tackled for being seen with the new guy," he admitted. He couldn't exactly picture her being tackled, but it wasn't something he ever wanted the misfortune of witnessing. If they would slushee him, he figured they would have no reservations with senseless attacking a pretty girl.

She let out a soft laugh, wiping some of the remaining slushee from his forehead. "I'm surprised they even knew how to fill that cup up," she said jokingly. "They're not exactly the brightest tools in the shed. They're just throwing their weight around." She carefully wiped his eyes for him, some of his blonde locks sticking to his forehead.

He opened his eyes and smiled at her, noting the closeness. She smelled like…berries. Odd, he figured. It wasn't unpleasant, though, and it might have even turned into his new favorite scent.

She carefully took a step back. He was attractive, she had to admit. "You never said where you were from," she said, trying to break the silence. He cleared his throat. His cheeks were stained red, and he made them even redder. "Oh, right." He paused. Where the hell was he from again? Oh. Right. Tennessee. "I'm from a little place outside of Memphis." He looked at her expectantly. "That's in Tennessee." He grinned at her. "You're the only ten I see!"

There was a long moment of awkward silence shared between them before she let out a soft laugh, covering her mouth. "Does that work on the girls in Tennessee?" she finally asked. Actually, it didn't. Most of them didn't appreciate his sense of humor. "No," he said with a laugh. He was thankful she didn't slap him.

By this time, the first warning bell and the start-of-school bell had already gone off, but neither of them seemed to notice. "I can't imagine why," she said sarcastically. They were cutting up like old friends might.

"You have beautiful eyes," he blurted out. That caught her off guard. Most guys weren't quite so blunt. She turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes a little. Was he up to something? So far, he hadn't done a single repulsive thing. Five minutes alone with Puck and he'd have already acted on several opportunities that Sam missed out on. "And you look like a creature from Avatar," she joked.

That did it. This girl was perfect. "You've seen Avatar? I saw it like, six times in theaters! I had to take my siblings, though. They seemed to like it." Her eyes widened in surprise. That got him talking. She didn't want to tell him she'd never actually seen it. He seemed way too excited at this point. He talked for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only six or seven minutes.

"I hate to do this," she said quietly. He stopped immediately. He needed to; her voice was so…light, and it was refreshing. He didn't want to miss a word. "But I'm ten minutes late for class." She bit her lip with a smile. Normally, she'd be infuriated at being late. But this was different.

"Sorry," he said immediately, though he couldn't help but smile when she bit her lip. "I tend to go off on these tangents. Wait til you see what I can do with an Elvis impersonation!" He started to, but quickly stopped himself. Pace yourself, Evans.

Just as he thought she was going to leave, she pulled a small piece of paper from her pocket. "Here," she said, almost matter-of-factly. "That's my phone number." She smiled at him as she stared at the paper. He wasn't used to that. "So you can call me…" she said hesitantly. Maybe she read into it wrong already.

His eyes lit up. It was the first time he'd ever been given a number. (One that looked real, anyway.) "So, are there any good places to eat around here?"