Tragedies Don't End In Laughter
Summary: Sam Evans is no Romeo. But he does know a tragedy when he sees one. SamXO.C Mentions of Quinn/Sam and Sam/Santana
Disclaimer: I do not own glee, and I never will.
-xx- Prologue
Sam Evans spared an apathetic sigh behind his mountain of homework papers. His prevocational math exam had been dropped on him like a bomb. He was desperately cramming now in a feeble attempt at, at least, passing. He yawned; disinclined. How did guys manage to pass exams when they were dealing with break-ups and trying to keep up with intense girls like Santana? He liked her but he, truthfully, didn't really care about her. It was always about Quinn. And sport, which he was craving at present. He tossed the papers across the room in a flurry of white. Trigonometry hurt his brain, and he was completely over studying. Sure, he didn't want to end up as a Lima loser... but if he flunked this exam he didn't honestly believe he'd be too concerned about it.
He jogged out of his bedroom hurriedly. He passed his assured and seemingly ideal family members. His father raised a flaxen eyebrow at his departing son, "Sam. Aren't you doing schoolwork?" Sam bit back a grin and uttered nervously, "Uh, yeah. I'm done."
His father, with his air of professionalism, shook his head, "Oh, you're such a terrible liar. What are we going to do, Harriet?"
His mother, Harriet, shrugged in front of the television, "Leave him alone". Sam nodded at his Dad, smiling as if to convince him of his truthfulness. His family was insane; they all seemed far too perfect, except his mother who was airy and care-free, while his father was as typically expectant as all fathers supposedly were. At the moment his powerful, businessman father was looking doubtful but waved his son from the room nevertheless. "Thanks", Sam said brilliantly before fleeing. His father had been extremely disappointed in him when he left his previous, all boys', school so Sam was now trying to completely avoid irritating him. Especially considering he spent so little time with his parents, he'd never even learnt to tie his shoelaces. He unclasped the out-dated lock on the old oak front-door and ran out onto the street, football in his arms. Sport helped him deal, and being outside in the moist Lima air made him feel alive, well, despite the fact that the temperature made it hard to breathe and his nose got all red. He ran down the bitumen road, checking over his shoulder regularly for cars, until he reached a massive field of semi-green grass. It was warmer outside then it had been earlier in the morning, it was about four-thirty in the afternoon now, but little dewdrops and spots of moisture still clung to the grass. His sneakers were immediately coated with a thick layer of dirt. He booted the ball as high as he could manage, shreds of grass and mud spraying out with the action, and sprinted after it to catch it in his arms.
"Out here again?" He heard a voice sound self-assuredly. He spun to find his older sister, Maya, standing on the white concrete footpath adjacent to him. "You say it..." He caught the ball with a faint 'oof', "...like it's a bad thing."
"Well it is." She smirked, brushing back a frizzy clump of brunette hair, "You're already vain enough. You don't need to be any more obsessed over your body."
"You can talk, Miss Confidence." He countered. Maya rolled her green eyes. It was a feature they'd both inherited from their care-free mother. Maya had been named by their father, who also was fond of astronomy, as her name represented a constellation. Maya would be a perfect star, Sam found himself considering, and she certainly had the attitude.
"Whatever." She muttered, still brushing back her troublesome hair. She'd despised its frizzy qualities, but it was a signature feature of hers. Sam's had been similarly colored before he died it with lemon juice. "You know I'm right." He said, this time hurling the ball towards her. She gave a faint squeal before thrusting her arms out in a barrier. The ball collided with her forearms before dully bouncing back onto the field. "You could've just caught it, you know..." Sam said blankly.
"Oh, shut up geek-zoid." She said in annoyance. Although her ball-skills weren't amazing, she managed catapult a ball in Sam's direction that almost made him stumble, but not quite.
"Anyway, I'm headed home", Maya had most probably come from work at the local hair dressers. It wasn't exactly a profession her father adored, but it made his first daughter happy so he complied. "I'll come, I guess." Sam murmured, "The mud is kind of grossing me out anyway."
Maya erupted in laughter, "You're such a girl."
"No comment." Sam replied threateningly. Maya looked pleased. He joined her and they began to walk back together. Maya's black pumps clacked against the concrete and Sam kept her pace wildly shaking his legs to remove the debris out of his joggers. Maya snorted at this, so Sam quickly brought up a topic of discussion. "How was work?" He questioned, "Better than normal?"
"Not really." She considered, her voice softening, "But… I guess better than the usual."
"What happened today?"
"Nothing in particular." She mused, "I just can't get the hang of it. That's why you've got to do well, Sam. I paid no attention in school and now I can't even get the hang of working. I'm sure they're pretty much ready to fire me. Dad's going to be furious…"
"They won't fire you, May." He said genuinely, "Because you're dedicated. You've just got to get the hang of it. You'll be right. Plus, it's not like you to cry to anyone else."
"I'm not crying to you!" She shoved him, "When did you become a guru?"
"Named must your fear be before banish it you can." Sam quoted Yoda robotically.
"Okay, what does that even mean?" She demanded. Sam shrugged sheepishly, mumbling something about being a guru.
"Well, o' Wise One. How's school going?" She said the first part sarcastically, but her voice lowered carefully at the second subject. Sam hesitated before responding, "Yeah, it's okay."
"But is it better?" She intercepted desperately, "Please, Sam, tell me it's better."
"It's okay." He repeated hastily, slipping away to run the last of the walk to their house.
-xx-
Sam was rushing down the halls of McKinley. He'd finished an exam moments ago, but it had slipped his mind yesterday to print off his essay. He didn't want to be seen in the library for long, so he left class as early as he could. No other jocks would ever get the chance to see him. He rounded a corner, memory stick in his palms…
"Hey Sammy Evans"
He covered up a grimace, and spun to greet his current girlfriend. "Santana", he exclaimed optimistically pulling her into a slight hug, "Hey."
She returned the small hug, but crinkled her nose slightly. She offered him a tepid smile, "Where are you going?"
"Uh..." He murmured, "Nowhere in particular."
"Good." She secured his wrist in her grip, "You can come with me. I need a trophy boy for Cheerio's practice."
He sighed, "Yep... Okay then." He was growing tired of this constant charade with her. She was so impulsive and resolute. He found it hard to endure. But he would endure it, for his reputation's sake. He allowed himself to be dragged after Santana.
"You don't look too happy." She lectured, "You should look happy. Quinn's never going to fall for that. Hell, you should look happy anyway. You're with me."
He murmured back wearily, "Just tired."
"Tired is not good enough." She responded, "You could just be tired of school, but keep it up and I'll be tired of you. Try and look like you're actually interested when I.."
Sam began to mentally block out her voice. He just nodded and smiled at everything she said. It was pretty much a guarantee that he wasn't going to pass his assignment anyway. He might as well secure his popularity if he couldn't ensure his education. As he walked, he noticed Quinn pass him. She was beautiful, as always. There was the flush of blonde and the innocent dress that was hugging her pale, slim figure. But that was it. He didn't feel the stir inside of him or the twinge of guilt for going to Santana. Her vivid eyes met his and he averted his gaze. There was still something, but it didn't ache anymore.
-xx-
Sam arrived home with a breath of relief. Cheerio's practice was great, (what guy could honestly say he didn't enjoy watching girls run around in miniskirts?), and Mr Schue had allowed him another night to hand in the essay. Things were appearing extraordinarily mediocre when he finally left.
"I'm here!" He announced cheerily, but backed down when he came to the realization that he was alone in the house. He proceeded to make himself food, heading into the kitchen. He pulled a stick of salami and a loaf of bread from the fridge indifferently. He had the knife pressed against the meat's surface when he saw a note on the bench addressed to him.
Maya & Sam, he read pulling it off the surface.
Your father and I will be back in a few hours. Please be ready to go out with us tonight. Your father has been invited to a very formal dinner and it could present a lot of work opportunities. I want you two looking spotless (that means you Sam).
-Mom.
Sam immediately groaned. His father was constantly attending these career gatherings. His mother was allowed along, provided she was on her best behaviour and didn't frighten his co-workers with her plant ramblings. On top of that, he and Maya had to be perfectly groomed for these meet. There was no way they could avoid attending, the children of such an influential businessman couldn't have a scratch on their attendance record. That's what his Dad said. It drove Sam crazy, but their money was putting his sister through college.
He stubbornly pulled out his cell phone and vigorously began texting Santana. "Hey." He typed, "R u up 4 a dinner thing 2nite? Kinda lame i no, but it mite b fun. He sent it, and silently ate his sandwich as he waited for a response. His phone buzzed, and the answer read: "wtf?"
"please." He pleaded back, "i'll b bored without u. we can cause some trouble."
It took longer than usual but her next answer elicited a smile from him, "fine. But im only agreein coz if u make me bored, I can go find a cute preppy son ;)" He shook his head expectantly.
Well, if there was one thing tonight was going to be... it'd be interesting.