Thank you for the reviews on my last chapter! So exciting to see some of my favorite fanfiction authors liking this story and leaving me some feedback! I hope you like chapter 2 just as much! :) Shout out to my friend crisptrepidation for being the best beta reader/idea supplier out there! Please leave a review, and make sure to follow/favorite the story so you get alerts when I post a new update!

Chapter 2: Booksmart

SAM

School had never really been Sam Evans' "thing".

Football had once been his thing. He was an ace at helping his dad fix up old cars, and his brother and sister had always been beside themselves whenever he did all of the voices as he read them picture books at night before bed. He joined the community center swim team one summer, and he'd been pretty good at that. He was once told that he made the best Blizzard the Watertown Dairy Queen had ever seen, so maybe that had been his thing, too.

Reading picture books to Stevie and Stacey had been one thing, but as the years went on and the schoolwork got more challenging, Sam found it harder and harder to make sense of what he was reading and keep up with his peers academically. His grades got worse and worse, and when the middle school counselor suggested to Dwight and Mary Evans that their eldest son may have a learning disability, it was no surprise when the (very expensive) psychologist they had been referred to diagnosed Sam with dyslexia.

But if there was anything Sam Evans was, it was determined. Maybe even stubbornly so.

On a rare trip into the city with his best friend Jake, some lady named Kim who said she was with West Coast Models approached Sam and said that he had this sort of "southern-farmboy-meets-Malibu-surfer" look to him. Sam wasn't sure what exactly that meant, but it felt like a compliment. There was a niche for his type in the modeling industry right now, she told him. And then she insisted that he sign with her agency and move out to California, and he apprehensively and blindly agreed.

The agent had promised that moving across the country would open so many doors for him, but the opportunity that Sam craved more than any other was a college education. That had never really been an option for him before, due to his family's finances, coupled with the fact that his self-esteem regarding his academics was basically non-existent. But with the agency supporting him now, it actually seemed like a real possibility. They set him up with an SAT tutor, paid his application fees, and that– mixed with Sam's own relentlessly hard work studying whenever he wasn't posing for a shoot or sleeping– somehow got him into The University of Southern California.

Getting into USC was one thing, however, and staying in was another. Sam felt he was killing himself trying to remain afloat amongst his overachieving peers, who it all seemed to come so easy to. He had to work twice as hard to reap half the rewards. Sam's naïve determination and relentless work ethic kept him going.

He'd joined the frat on a whim after enrolling, as a way to be social and make friends, since he was so far away from everyone he loved. If Sam was being honest though, he wasn't a huge fan of everything that went on there. The hazing, binge drinking, constant parties… Sam wasn't sure fraternity life was all it was cracked up to be. But, still, he stayed. Because if he didn't, he wasn't sure he'd have any friends at all out here in LA, even if they were just a bunch of douchey drunk guys.

Except, now there was Artie.

Ever since he'd spotted him across the room, ever since the refreshingly honest conversation they'd had, he couldn't seem to get him out of his head. It had been over a week since that party at Sigma Chi, but Sam found himself looking for Artie everywhere he went on campus without success. They'd only talked that once, but Sam desperately wanted to meet up again to get to know him better.

Sam knew he could always ask Finn Hudson for Artie's number, but frankly, that was the last thing he wanted to do. He had never felt the need to hide anything about himself, and it was no secret that his attraction to guys freaked out many of his fraternity brothers. Sam clearly saw it in Finn's facial expression when he'd stumbled across him and Artie deep in conversation in the kitchen that night.

Sexuality wasn't something that scared Sam. His first crush at age six had been on his ten-year-old neighbor, who made him visibly flustered whenever he invited Sam to ride bikes with him. He experienced attraction easily. Sometimes girls, mostly guys, it didn't matter. He just kind of fell in love with whoever, and he didn't know why it was such a big deal to some people. Sam was unapologetically himself, and whoever didn't like that could get lost, for all he cared.

For what felt like the hundredth time, Sam found himself glancing around as he crossed campus on his way to the library, searching for Artie's face in the flocks of people. He was meeting his new English tutor there today, as he once again felt overwhelmed by the amount of classwork that was beginning to pile up. In the past, it had helped him tremendously, to have someone there to help him make out some of the more difficult words and help him to comprehend what he was reading.

Sam hadn't even made it to the peer tutoring desk inside the library yet when he heard a familiar voice call his name from behind him.

"Sam?"

Sam spun around and was excited to see that his mind was not deceiving him. "Artie? Hey! What are you doing here?"

"I think I'm your tutor today!" Artie replied, grinning as he held up his phone, showing Sam the email he'd received with his tutoring assignment. Sure enough, Sam's name was displayed there, clear as day.

"Oh, wow, um, okay!" Sam tripped over his words as he tried to form a coherent response.

His new crush– who he'd been desperately trying to seek out for the better part of the last week– was here now… but to tutor him in a subject he was struggling with. This had the potential to be a super embarrassing disaster. But it didn't seem that Artie was looking at it that way.

"Yeah! You can just follow me over to one of the tables over here," Artie said. The genuine smile that was still on his face told Sam that the other boy was just as happy to see him as Sam was.

Artie pivoted his chair and pushed off towards a row of empty tables that were a bit secluded from the rest of the library. Sam did as he was told, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder as he followed Artie's lead.

Artie was dressed differently than he had been the night they met, Sam noticed. Instead of jeans, he was in khakis that didn't quite fit him right, and he'd traded in his t-shirt for a blue polo that was buttoned all the way up and tucked into his pants with a brown belt. He was now wearing dress shoes instead of the high-top sneakers he'd been wearing, and his straight brown hair was perfectly swept over his forehead.

Artie selected a table for them to sit at, and Sam immediately took the liberty of moving one of the chairs at the table away so that Artie could have space to pull his chair up to the table.

"Thanks," Artie said, glancing up at him briefly before flashing Sam a small smile as the tips of his ears turned pink. Sam wasn't sure why he seemed embarrassed all of a sudden. He didn't have a reason to be.

"It was no problem," Sam replied, and he meant it. He then pulled out one of the chairs for himself and sat down beside him.

A moment of silence passed between the two of them, as if the excitement of being reunited after the frat party had worn off and now they weren't quite sure what to say. It was obvious that both of them were nervous.

"I like your outfit," Sam said, breaking the ice and causing Artie to meet his eyes and match his smile.

"Thanks," Artie said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "This is, um, what I usually wear. Finn gave me kind of a makeover before he took me to Sigma Chi. I may have catfished you the other night. Sorry 'bout that."

"I like it," Sam told him, truthfully. "It suits you."

Artie smiled, and Sam may have heard him breathe a small sigh of relief, but he couldn't be sure. At that, Artie seemed to relax a bit more, so Sam did too.

"I didn't know you were a peer tutor," Sam commented, realizing then that there wasn't much he did know about Artie, besides that he was studying film. Recalling their conversation, he realized that he had done most of the talking between them.

"I was kind of a nerd in high school," Artie confessed. "Still am, actually. My brother used to say it was a waste of time, studying so much if I was just going to go to school to watch and make movies. But I really did enjoy what we were learning. I think in another life I may have been an accountant or an engineer or something. Is that lame?"

Sam shook his head. If he was going to be perfectly honest, he was beginning to think that nothing Artie could ever say would sound boring to him. Plus, with the amount of useless Star Wars trivia he knew, Sam could be considered kind of a nerd himself.

"Yeah, well, it's kind of lame, but I'm cool with it," Artie continued, poking fun at himself. Sam already liked his sense of humor. "Anyways, I figured I could put my acquired knowledge to good use and earn a little bit of extra money by tutoring other students. It hasn't been half bad so far, especially since it brought us back together."

Artie's eyes went wide and his face blushed furiously upon seeming to realize that he'd said that last part out loud. Sam couldn't stop himself from laughing, because at least now he knew for sure that Artie felt the same way as he did.

"I just meant– I had a really nice time talking to you the other night, Sam, I didn't…" Artie tried to amend his statement but fell short of actually finding the words he was looking for. His face continued to flush as he fixed his eyes down at the empty table they were both sitting at with his hands folded in his lap.

"Hey, I get what you mean," Sam assured him, reaching his hand out to place it on the other guy's shoulder, before drawing it back. Suddenly, that motion felt too intimate. Sam cleared his throat to disrupt the silence that had fallen over them once again. "So… Do you want to get started?"

Artie nodded eagerly, clearly grateful for a distraction from his verbal blunder. Sam opened his backpack to retrieve his notebook, pencil, and copy of The Great Gatsby that he was reading for class. Artie came prepared, pulling out a notebook and pencil of his own.

"Alright, so, Gatsby. Have you started it yet?"

Sam shook his head. How could he tell Artie that his dyslexia had turned the letters on the page into a jumbled-up mess, preventing him from even getting past the first paragraph?

"Well, that's okay. It's one of my favorites, actually," Artie shared. "There's a lot you can take away from these characters. They're fascinating." He stopped talking then, making a face that showed he wasn't pleased by his words and shaking his head. "There I go being a nerd again. Geez, I promise I'm not as boring as I sound this morning. I just mean that I appreciate the writing."

Sam smiled. He didn't know much about this book at all, but he found it adorable how passionate Artie seemed to be about it. Even more adorable, though, was the way that Artie kept getting flustered. Sam may have been six feet tall, but he wasn't intimidating. Didn't Artie know he didn't have to be nervous around him?

"Let's start with chapter one. I always find that it's easier to retain what I read when I read it out loud. Do you want to try that?" Artie asked.

Sam nodded. He had plenty of experience reading out loud to his little brother and sister, so this particular task didn't scare him too much.

"Okay," Artie said definitively. "Whenever you're ready."

"In my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. 'Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.'"

Sam surprised himself by the way he was able to read the first few lines effortlessly without getting stuck once. A sense of pride swelled his chest. Maybe today was the day his brain would decide to set itself straight.

"He didn't say any more, but we've always been unusually comm…communi…comm…"

Sam stuttered for a minute, stuck on the word before looking up from the page in defeat, expecting to find Artie looking at him with judgment plastered on his face. Instead, he was only met with the comfort of Artie's gentle smile that he'd grown to love so quickly.

"Communicative," Artie told him encouragingly without a hint of judgment in his voice at all.

"Communicative," Sam sheepishly repeated, before returning to the sentence at hand.

Artie was incredibly patient with him as he struggled to read the first page. Subconsciously, Sam's face flushed pink with embarrassment, but for once, he didn't feel like he was being looked down upon for his mistakes as he struggled through the words. Sitting here with Artie, he felt safe.

It was evident that Artie was smarter than most. Not just with school stuff, but he was emotionally smarter too. He could see that reading made the otherwise self-assured Sam feel insecure, and he made a point not to draw attention to it. Sam had a feeling Artie knew what that was like, to have someone bear witness to something that you were self-conscious about, and he knew better than to comment on it.

"I wanted no more ri…rio…riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart," Sam continued to read, beginning the second page now. "Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction– Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn."

Sam stopped suddenly then, glancing up at Artie and cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"Wait, the main character isn't Gatsby?"

"He's not our narrator, no," Artie clarified. "Nick is. He's Gatsby's neighbor."

Artie went on, talking about how Nick Carraway idolizes Gatsby (or something like that), and as hard as he tried not to, Sam found himself zoning out. He couldn't help himself. He wasn't all that interested in F. Scott Fitzgerald or the roaring twenties. What did pique his attention was the way Artie's bright blue eyes (those were the first thing Sam had ever noticed about him, because who has eyes that blue?!) got all big and lively behind the lenses of his glasses as he went on and on about the book. School came easily to Artie, that much was obvious, and even though his enthusiasm for the subject wasn't necessarily contagious, it was attractive all the same.

Sam was enthralled by the way Artie carried himself. So confident, but also clearly shy. Like he was sure of himself but wanted to be certain that the other person had faith in him, too, before he made any sudden movement. He wondered why Artie had the tendency to second-guess himself, just seconds after he'd said what was maybe the smartest thing Sam had ever heard. Artie was captivating, and Sam wanted to analyze his disposition and body language forever.

Sam started making a mental list in his head of everything he liked ("loved" probably would have been the more accurate phrase) about the guy before him. His eyes, of course. Those were at the top of the list. The way that he appeared to be unable to talk without gesturing in every direction with his hands. His smile and the way that he had just the tiniest dimple on one cheek if you looked close enough.

"Sam?"

"Oh, crap. Sorry. What?" Sam stammered, snapping out of his daydream. He'd have to finish his list later that night when he was in bed.

"Do you want to take a break?"

Sam nodded, now it was his turn to blush. "Sorry. Sometimes I need to take a second. Reading can be a lot to take in."

"You don't have to apologize, it's okay," Artie assured him.

Sam let out a sigh of relief and gave Artie a grateful smile, which the other guy matched. It was nice to have somebody who actually got what he was going through. Artie had to be some kind of unicorn.

Their shared smile lasted a second too long, which caused both boys to glance away awkwardly. Sam cleared his throat. "So… uh… when did you say you started tutoring?"

"High school, I guess you could say," Artie replied. "I have a sister who's a few years younger than I am, so I would help with her math homework and her science projects sometimes."

Sam nodded. Artie hadn't shared much about himself the first night they'd met, so Sam found that he was soaking up every bit of personal information Artie was willing to share.

"My mom said that I'm a natural-born teacher or something like that." He nervously pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again. "And, I mean, having a side hustle to earn some extra spending money didn't hurt either. Since, you know, none of the places where my friends had part-time jobs in high school were gonna hire me." He laughed in spite of himself, placing a hand on one of his wheels to make his point. "I much prefer tutoring to mowing lawns or bussing tables, anyways."

"I wish my brain worked like yours," Sam said softly, suddenly envious of the way that Artie was able to master any subject. "I mean, you're clearly a genius or something. I can't read six pages without my head feeling like it's going to explode from my brain working too hard."

"Hey, no, you're fine. You're–You're doing great. Don't worry about anything. We've only got a few more pages of this chapter, see?" Artie assured him. "And my brain's been kind of all over the place today too," He confessed. "I don't know what's gotten into me. I don't ever get nervous about tutoring, but I just saw your name on my schedule today and got really excited, I guess? I woke up early and everything, to pick out my clothes, and… Oh my God, you totally did not need to know that."

Artie groaned and buried his face in his hands, and Sam couldn't hide the amused (and flattered!) expression on his face. He found the way Artie never filtered his thoughts before he spoke quite endearing.

"Uh, maybe we should get back to work," Artie suggested as he avoided meeting Sam's eyes. "Before I embarrass myself in front of you any further."

They made their way through the rest of the first chapter, slowly but surely. Sam was surprised at the way that Artie was able to actually make him understand things. Like, he really got it! Artie took the time to go over each paragraph and answered every question, and Sam couldn't remember the last time he felt this confident about his assignment for English class. Even though it took a couple of hours, Artie never once acted as he had anywhere else to be except right here with Sam.

As they were packing up to leave, Artie tore out a piece of paper from his notebook and scribbled something in pencil that Sam couldn't quite make out from where he tried to peer over Artie's shoulder.

"Here," Artie said, folding up the paper and sliding it across the table towards Sam. "In case you have any more questions when you read chapter two."

Sam eyed Artie mischievously before opening the paper to see for himself what he'd written. There, Artie had left his full name, accompanied by a small smiley face and his cell phone number.

"Thanks," Sam replied, his face forming one of those half-smiles he was so prone to, before tucking the slip of paper in the back pocket of his jeans for safekeeping. There was an unspoken understanding between the two boys that Artie had offered his phone number to Sam for more than one reason.

Two hours after he'd walked in, Sam walked out of the campus library. He knew more than he ever thought possible about Nick Carraway or Gatsby (and was even kind of enjoying it. Maybe Artie's literary enthusiasm was contagious after all), and now he had a piece of notebook paper with Artie Abrams' cell phone number on it. That was more than he could have hoped for when he walked in.