Chapter Three – Grilled Cheesus

Bread. Check.

Butter. Check.

Super-delicious-yummy-fantastic cheese. Check.

Well, it's Sunday afternoon and I have a crap-ton of homework to do for tomorrow and football plays to work out and ugh…I'm freaking hungry. So I'm making my favorite food ever, even though it totally wrecks my diet and I can just hear my arteries clogging with every evil-but-oh-so-delicious bite. Oh sweet Eywa, I LOVE grilled cheese. Like…almost as much as I love Blaine. Or Avatar. I can already taste that sandwich and feel it melt in my mouth. I put the sandwich in the grill-press doohickey. What? I'm a guy, kitchens are like an alien planet to me. Don't judge me.

YAY! My grilled cheese is done! Please excuse me while I go stuff my face.

Ok, my grilled cheese gorge-fest is over. Now on to homework for the night. What kind of evil teacher assigns their students to read 4 pages worth of Shakespeare? Just three lines is torture enough for me. Dyslexia, remember?

You know what, I'm not even going to bother reading this. I hate reading. I don't even know why you people want to read my story…I wouldn't have made it through the first chapter without having to call Blaine to read it to me. Maybe I should do that…No! Stop it Sam! You're dyslexic, not ADD.

Speaking of Blaine, I haven't heard from him today.

Hey sweetie. How was yuor day? I texted him.

A few minutes later, my phone beeped at me. Good. How was yours?

We texted a few more times…all that sappy stuff that most of you probably don't want to read.

'Aer you com2ing to my frist football gaem tmrw?'

'Wouldn't miss it for the world Sammy 3.'

Finn and Artie's strategy of wheeling him down the field like a medieval battering ram actually worked like a charm. Thank the Force for that, because my boyfriend was in the stands and it would've really sucked if I lost my first game as quarterback.

I tossed my gym bag into the back seat of my car and drove home, heading straight for the shower the moment I walked in the door. After that was done I put on some boxer shorts and a shirt and sat down on the bed to watch a movie before bed. I looked through my DVDs and after much deliberation settled on Avatar.

The phone beeped right when the movie was getting good.

'Great job tonite :)' It was from Blaine.

'Thank yuo! i'l txet you later, i'm pretty tired.' I sent back. I know it's kinda mean to blwo off my boyfriend to watch a movie I've seen a million times, but come on…its Avatar! I can recite every line in Na'vi…even the ones that are English. Wow, I really am a dork.

'Ok, talk to you later. Sweet dreams Sammy,' he sent back.

"Naked bootleg left, I keep on Three," I said to the team in the huddle. I sure hope Finn knows what he's doing with this. Coach is gonna be pissed if it backfires.

I glanced over my shoulder at Finn and nodded once. I trust you, it was saying.

"Down, set, hike!" I called. The ball flew into my hands. Run Sam Evans. Run like your life depended on it. Because it does. If you screw this up, Coach Beiste is going to skin you alive.

Oh crap! There's a guy right! Dodge! Whoa! Dodge again! Just keep running Sam! Just keep running! Just. Keep. Running. Holy sweet mother of God, why is the grass coming towards my face? And why can't I feel my feet on the ground anymore? I saw a bright flash of stars as I hit the ground and

I really can't describe a tackle I didn't see coming, or the sharp fire of pain that came with the heavy impact. I heard a loud pop that didn't sound like every other time I'd been tackled. And this time, it hurt way more than any other time too. I couldn't breathe for a second. 'Get up Sam, youre fine,' I told myself. Give me a second to catch my breath and to let the pain in my shoulder die down. Ouch, damn that really hurts!

Coach Beiste and the refs crowded into my vision all of a sudden. Crap, how long have I been laying here? She lifted my arm. Jesus that HURTS. I grimaced in pain at the touch.

"Is he okay?" Finn called.

"His shoulder's dislocated," Beiste said. Well, that explained one thing. "This is what happens when you change my plays in the huddle!" she fired at Finn.

"I don't understand, that guy came outta nowhere!" I managed to moan painfully.

"I know, that kid's been cheating right all night. No reason for him to be there. It's just bad luck."

"We need to get him to the ER," the ref told Beiste. She looked at me and while they were helping me up and off the field I heard her say to Finn, "It's in your hands now Lurch. Congratulations, you're the quarterback again."

Doctors' offices always scared me as a kid. Every time I went in one, I had to get a shot or something else traumatizing done so I just developed quite a distaste for them. And I'm just talking about the small kid doctor. To say I was terrified while sitting in a bustling ER full of people ranging from the mildly sick (sure that guy had a fever of 107 but that's not that bad, right?) to the bleeding-profusely was an understatement. What if they told me they'd have to cut off my arm? My life would totally be over. I couldn't play football with one arm…I couldn't play my guitar and Blaine definitely wouldn't want a three-legged cripple as his boyfriend.

The doctor came over and checked me out. He talked to Coach Beiste and my mom, who had come from sitting at home reading her romance novels when Coach called her on the way here. His stark white uniform unsettled me a bit. It's just so unnatural looking. Then he turned to me and had me use my good arm to lift my jersey sleeve so he could get a good look at the damage. I flinched when the doctor touched my shoulder, but most of the pain had dulled to a solid ache now. It still hurt like hell, but it was at least tolerable.

"Alright Sam, I've got to reset your shoulder, and it's going to be very painful. So I'm going to give a shot of morphine for the pain, ok?" the doctor told me. He smiled and was pretty friendly and seemed like a nice guy…but he was going to give me a shot. Dammit.

The shot wasn't that bad. Then came the shoulder part. The sound was the worst. That sickening wet popping sound as the bone snapped back into the joint. Dear lord, I will NEVER watch another horror movie with Blaine. Some of those sounds are just a little too realistic for my taste. In fact, the noise was so stomach churning that everything went blurry for a minute and the next thing I knew, Coach was wiping a cold rag across my forehead and the doctor was pumping one of those blood pressure thingies.

"Looks like you fainted there, buddy. And it looks like your blood pressure is a tad low too." He said. "Mrs. Evans, if it's alright with you, I'd like to keep him for the night. Just to be on the safe side."

"You're the expert, doc," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow Sam. Be good." She ruffled my hair and left without another word. The doctor and Coach Beiste both watched her go with a slightly concerned look. Coach sighed. The doctor scrambled off after her blabbering something about signing a few papers.

"Here's my cell number. If you need anything, you can always call me," Coach said, scribbling down a number and handing it to me.

I nodded and accepted the paper. That's really about the last thing I remember from that night.

When I woke up, the sun was shining bright outside. I groaned when I felt the ache in my shoulder, but it was a lot better than it was last night. Thank Eywa for small blessings.

This room was really ugly. Like...REALLY ugly. White walls, grey tile floor, um…well basically everything else was white or some shade of pale grey. And then there was the bedside table.

There was the ugliest, most pathetic little dandelion on the table. And there was a note with it.

'Sorry about your shoulder! Finn' it read. Well, I guess it's the thought that counts but that dandelion is just…indescribable.

My phone was on the table too. I picked it up and looked at the 13 waiting texts.

'Hey Sammy, call me when you get a chance.' That one was from Blaine.

'Come home when the doctors let you go.' Mom.

I bothered to look at the time…it was only 11:30 in the morning. I couldn't call Blaine yet because he'd still be in classes for a few more hours.

"Oh good, you're awake," said a pleasant voice. I looked up, a little startled. It was just a nurse coming in to check on me. "How are you feeling, Mr. Evans?"

"Sore but alive."
"Well, that's to be expected. You hurt your shoulder pretty bad. I'll just go tell the doctor you're awake and he'll come check you out," she said with a wide smile.

"Ok, it looks like everything's going to heal nicely. I'd like you to wear this sling for a few days while the pain goes away," the doctor said. "How about you take a walk down to the cafeteria for something to eat if you feel up to it? It'll be good to get you moving around a little."

The doctor had been right. I felt like a million bucks after getting some food. They had grilled cheese! You have no idea how happy that made me. But anyways, the sandwich isn't important. The sling was a little awkward to eat with, but I managed. While I was eating I texted Blaine and asked him to come give me a ride home when he got out of classes. He replied while I was walking back to my room.

'No problem Sammy. I'll see you soon.'

Over the top of the phone, I saw a familiar face in the one of the waiting areas. It was that Spanish teacher from school. He had a red-headed woman with him that I'm pretty sure I'd seen before too and there was another guy with brown hair that was immaculately combed pacing the floor a few feet away.

"Hi. I'm Sam Evans. You're mister…uh…Schuester, right? You teach at McKinley," I asked.

"Yes, that's me. I saw that tackle last night. How's your shoulder doing?" he asked.

"As good as can be expected, I guess. What are you guys doing here?"

"Kurt's dad. We think he had a heart attack at work a few hours ago," he whispered, nodding his head towards the pacing boy.

"Oh…that sucks," was all I could think to say. I had never met Kurt before. He was looking at us now, probably wondering who this new guy was that had intruded on his misery. His face was distraught, to say the least. Even now, he was still adorable. But it's really not very nice to be thinking thoughts like that when his dad was in critical condition. Poor thing.

I just gave him a quick nod and looked at the ground while I walked away to my room. I can't imagine how horrible he must've been feeling. Suddenly, my shoulder seemed incalculably small.

"Ready to go, Sammy?" Blaine asked.

"You have no idea," I smiled at him.

We walked out to the desk area and I saw a doctor talking to Kurt and Mr. Schuester and the red-head. The lady at the desk handed me a few papers to sign. I read over them quickly and signed them. The doctor had led the three of them down the hall a few doors, and Mr. Schuester was waiting outside. We had to walk past them to get to the stairs.

"Hey, Mr. Schue, can you do me a favor? Tell Kurt I'm really sorry about his dad," I asked.

He just nodded, wrung his hands and looked down at the floor. The red-head lady gave him a tender squeeze on the shoulder.

"Hey Sam, I know this is probably not the best time, but how would you like to join Glee club? We're looking for some new recruits and you'll be out of football for a while with that shoulder. We'd love to have you," Mr. Schue asked me.

"I'd like that. Actually Finn already asked me to join, but I decided to focus on football. But you're right, I'll be benched for a few weeks at least. When does the club meet?" Blaine was being thankfully quiet. I knew he wasn't going to be happy with me joining McKinley's glee club, but I didn't have football anymore.

"We practice in the choir room after school on Thursdays."

"Cool, I'll see you then."

Blaine and I walked down to his car and drove home in silence.

"It's okay. I'm not mad, you know," he said, tracing a small circle on my back. "How about we watch Avatar for a bit? I know you've had a long day, so let's just relax for awhile."

So I popped the DVD into the TV and snuggled up to Blaine and relaxed while he played with my hair. I really like this boy, but I still couldn't get that brown haired Kurt out of my head.

My phone beeped later that night after Blaine left to go back to Dalton. It was a weekday after all, and even though I know you'd love to hear about how he stayed the night and we did all kinds of adorable things to each other, he had classes tomorrow.

'Hey its Finn. I have to tell you something.'

'Waht is it?'

'I'm the reason your shoulder got hurt.'

I have no idea what he's talking about. But what he said haunted me. He's the reason my shoulder got hurt. Hurt…that rhymes with Kurt. Kurt…

AN: Well, now is when the ball really starts rolling with Kurt. Will he and Sam get together? Who knows? Stay tuned for the next chapter, coming soon! It's a big one!