an: right, that was fast. haha, I don't know, I'm just sitting writing. I don't think I've ever published a second chapter this fast, but maybe it's because the last one was so short. or I'm eager to get more of this done before tomorrow's episode and this is all irrelevant. it's another short one. reviews are really really nice, pretty please :)

"Beat it, homo," growled a beefy senior. Kurt had a look on his face that plainly said he was used to it, and he knew it would never change. He was sort of flinching away, back against the locker, as if he were afraid of being punched or spit on or something. Or, more likely, afraid his designer sweater would get damaged.

"Hey," said Sam, maneuvering himself into the small space between Kurt and the bully. He'd been passing by, when the 'homo' comment had caught his attention. "What's the problem here?" he asked, trying not to feel fear. Whatever he felt, though, he wasn't about to stand by while someone was being bullied and berated.

"You're about to be the problem if you don't back up out the way," the older student said, but something in his eyes said he wasn't prepared to take on the new kid. See, being the new kid had its perks sometimes, too. For example, no one knew why Sam had left his old school. Maybe he'd moved, maybe his parents had wanted him in a better football program. Or, maybe he'd been kicked out. Maybe he was a bad kid. If only they knew the real truth...

"Look," said Sam, calmly, placing a hand on the boy's chest, "if you don't walk away and leave my friend here alone, I'm going to become a problem for you, ya get me?" He gave a menacing half-grin.

The boy's brows creased. "Alright then," he said, "next time, sister." And with a glance at Kurt, he spat on Sam's face and walked off.

Sam made a disgusted noise and lifted his shirt to wipe his face as Kurt stepped out from behind him (his eyes falling for a moment to Sam's toned abdomen). "Brian," he said. "He likes to spit." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and started dabbing at Sam's face. "Thanks," he said. "I mean, you didn't have to do that."

"Nah," Sam shrugged. "I can't stand when people are so...judgmental. Why should he be such a jerk just cause you like guys?" He stopped suddenly, watching Kurt's face for a reaction. "I mean...you...do, right? I'm not just jumping to conclusions or... Now I'm the judgmental one, I'm sorry..." He looked at his feet, frowning. Why did he have such a (figuratively) big mouth sometimes?

"No," Kurt said, matter-of-factly. "No, I'm gay as a rainbow." He even smiled a little, and Sam smiled a bit, too.

"Well," Sam trailed off and began to wander toward his locker, and he was pleased when Kurt followed him. "What class do you have next?" he asked, opening up his locker and putting his binder inside it.

"Glee," said Kurt, leaning up against the lockers, and for about the thousandth time, Sam felt a pang of sadness that he hadn't joined the club. He took out his math book and put it in his book bag. His locker was pretty plain, except for a couple of those magnetic pencil holders stuck to the door and a picture of his little sister. She was twelve now, and becoming an absolute brat, but he smiled at her picture all the same.

"You know," said Kurt, looking Sam in the eye in that unsettling way he had, "it's not too late to join, I'm sure Mr. Schue would audition you..." Sam gave a sorry half-smile. "I just don't think..."

"Oh right," said Kurt a little coldly. "wouldn't want to tarnish your budding reputation." He started to walk away, and Sam called after him, "Wait, Kurt...it's not like that."

Except it was, and Kurt kept walking.