Joining the Glee club honestly didn't seem like a bad idea if I only half considered it. Singing was fun and dancing was easy; not to mention, Sam was there. It wasn't like I had a club to go to anyways. I usually just skipped out and went to Dalton. Damn, I was getting sick of only having Warbler friends. Glee could probably fix that. No, no Glee. I only have time for work and school. I don't have time for a club and boy drama. Warblers and work good; boys and clubs bad. End of story.

My phone buzzed when I had that last thought. A text from Sam floated up on my screen.

Hey, it read. I wanna talk.

I tried to stop the flutters in my stomach and the smile that showed up automatically.

Listening, I responded.

It took him a minute. In person. A moment later, Can I come over?

I hesitated at that one. Was I really sure about him; was he really the one boy I'd share every secret with? No, not every secret. Maybe I'd just tell him some. But I didn't want to lie to him. Actually, I wasn't sure I could lie anymore. I already told him some lies and if he came over, he'd know about that. But the apartment was a big enough secret in itself. I open that door and the door to the rest of them flies off the hinges. Maybe he wouldn't notice the creaking that door made. Maybe I could keep that door closed and he wouldn't notice the little breeze that came from the widow that would open. My metaphorical apartment sucked as much as my real one did. It was lonely and I was lonely. Sam changed that. Screw it, he's coming over.

I sent him the address and he was over in less time than I hoped. I had to talk myself off the couch when he knocked on the door. Walking slowly forward, I opened the door just a crack and looked up at him.

"Hey," he said, smiling widely with perhaps the most gorgeous smile I'd ever seen in my life.

"Hi." I opened the door a bit wider after a moment. His eyes flashed through the room and then landed back on me.

"Are we alone?" He asked in a hushed voice.

I laughed once, remembering what he thought my living situation was. "Yeah," I said. "We're definitely alone."

"Good," he smiled.

"You wanted to talk?"

"Can I come in or do you want to talk in the hall?"

"Oh… sorry." I opened the door all the way and stepped back.

His eyes moved over every detail of the main room. They skimmed over the old television and the beaten up couch that sat across from it, the coffee table keeping them apart. Behind it another table stood and held the vase of dying flowers and the two coasters. Farther back from that was the kitchen only separated by the cutoff of carpet and beginning of tile and a counter making a small entry way. The kitchen table was in the other corner, accompanied by four chairs. None of the furniture matched and all of it looked worn and used. It didn't look like that in a bad way but in a comfortable way. It was kind of like those old cabins that had mismatched furniture to look cozy. The only difference was that it wasn't intentional; it was just what I had.

I watched him take all of that in before he looked back at me and smiled. He didn't look like he was judging or anything like that. He looked like he usually did, like he was just looking at me.

"So," I itched my arm more out of nervousness than need, "what were you going to say?"

He looked from one of my eyes to the other. "Uh, I don't really want to talk about that anymore. I just want to do this." He took another step forward, closing the door with his foot, and put his hands on both sides of my face, bringing my lips to his. His hand slid down my neck, shoulder, and arm until it grabbed under my elbow and pushed me, making me walk backwards until my legs hit the arm of the couch. He lifted me and moved around, pushing my back into the cushions and my head onto the opposite arm. His lips were moving over mine and his hands clutched on my waist. I grabbed at the loose sides of his letterman's jacket, pulling him closer, when his phone buzzed in the pocket. I continued kissing him, reaching in to take the annoying object that was tearing me out of my Sam-haze.

His hand closed around mine when it emerged from his pocket, taking the phone and sticking it in his back pocket. My eyebrows pulled down and I pushed against his chest. When he didn't move, I pushed harder until he did.

"What was that?"

"What do you mean?" He said, rubbing his eyes.

"The thing with your phone. Why did you take it?"

He sighed and moved off of me, sitting up on the cushion on the opposite side from mine. "It's not important."

"Okay, I know we like, just started acting like a couple, but I know you, Sam. What don't you want me to find out?"

He looked back at me for a second. "It's nothing, Am. Just forget it happened."

"You won't look me in the eye. I know what that means with you. I've seen you lie before and you won't look the person in the eyes. That's your tell."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "You really wanna talk about lying?"

That one caught me by surprise. Sam could talk like that, I knew. But Sam never talked to me like that. He was the last one on earth that I expected to go all mega-bitch on me. "Wow," I said, moving back further from him. "Uh, okay. I see how it is."

His hand was on my wrist again, which seemed to be becoming his signature thing. "No, Ami, I didn't mean—Look, it's not a big deal. I just took my phone, whatever."

"You took your phone and then you got defensive. Will you just tell me why? I just want to know what's wrong."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "It's Quinn."

"What about Quinn?" It was obvious. I shouldn't have even asked because the way she looked at him couldn't be missed by someone who was blind. You could practically feel the territorial stare she had on him at all times. I shouldn't blame her, it's been two days since Sam kissed me and nobody knew about it. It wasn't her fault that she liked him. He was kind of deliciously sexy and sweet. Yeah, it wasn't her fault.

"She's been texting me for the past couple days… about Glee club. We're singing together."

That. Bitch.

"Cool," I said.

"I'm not into her."

Leaning forward on the couch, I straightened the books that laid on the coffee table. I figured it would keep my mind and eyes busy. "You could go out with her if you wanted. I mean, we're not officially dating and she's perfect, right? She's head cheerleader, gorgeous, blonde, and she's bound to make you more popular. I mean, you're almost the quarterback."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned to look at me. "I don't care about that, Ami."

"Mhmm," I mumbled, looking at the television that wasn't actually on. Whatever, it made my point that I wasn't going to look at him. He got it.

"I'm just singing with her. Seriously."

"Have you ever seen the way she looks at you? I give you a week before you're with her."

"Hey," he said, reaching forward and taking my chin in his hand softly, tugging it towards him so I had to look him in the eye. "Have you ever seen the way I look at you?"

I looked down, touching his wrist with my fingertips. "Not really," I said.

His other thumb slid over my cheekbone. "Maybe you should pay more attention." His lips pressed to one side of my mouth, then the other, before kissing them full on. "I'm only interested in you."

So that was only one scene, I know. And it was short, but my other chapters were so long that I think it'll be okay, right? I'll be doing NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) this November. That means that I have to write a 50,000 word novel in thirty days. As you may have guessed, that means that I won't be writing much Fanfiction in that time. I'll get back to you the second that I can though. Please don't hate me. I love you.

DFTBA! and Best Wishes,

KelseyDockry