I'm not the most romantic person on the planet. Santana made sure I knew that – her repeated assurances that I have 'no game' were always a bit hard for my self-esteem. I'm not very bold when it comes to romance, and I don't really know how to show anyone a good time.

I had no luck last night finding any songs that weren't released as singles. I don't really buy albums, because why waste money buying the whole CD when you only want one song? This is getting me stumped, so I'm doing something bold.

"Hey, Kurt," I say, as he unpacks his things for his next class from his locker. I lean up against the locker next to his the way I used to lean near Quinn's, and I smile broadly.

Kurt quakes an eyebrow before returning the smile, and replying with a simple "Hey, Sam."

"Umm, I was wondering… if maybe, you wouldn't mind… helping me with this week's assignment?"

That was easier than I'd expected.

"How so?" Kurt replies, and shuts his locker. We start walking towards wherever his next class is (with my luck, probably on the opposite end of the school to where I need to be, but whatever).

"I don't really have albums. I figure you're the type that goes for the whole experience?"

"You figure correctly," he replies. "Are you free tonight?"

Wait.

Hold the phone.

Kurt Hummel. The boy I've been ogling for the last, like, forever, is asking if I want to come to his house?

Yes. I believe he is.

…

OMG.

Umm… breathe… breathe…. "Sure. Yeah. Sure. I mean, if I'm not imposing, or…"

Kurt swats at the air in front of me. "Of course you're not. I'd be happy to help you."

I beam. "Great! What time do you want me?"

"How about you just follow me after school – Blaine's picking me up at seven, so we'll have some time."

He seems to notice my face fall.

"Sorry, if that's… umm… so is that okay?"

"Sure. Sounds great. It's a date." His eyes widen. "I mean, like, it's planned. A planned meeting. That's what a date is, right? A planned meeting between two people. There doesn't have to be a romantic context. We're not… romantically meeting. Not romantic at all."

Kurt nods his head quickly, and I know that he totally gets it. It isn't stopping him from blushing, though. "I'd better go," he replies. "See you later?"

I nod, and he walks into class.

I walk to the other side of the school.

I didn't have a clue what was going on in Sam's head. A date? Why would he have wanted to go on a date with me? It wasn't a date though. He'd made that very clear.

I sighed as I eased into my seat for French. As usual, I didn't pay attention, because duh, French is easy.

Why did all of the guys hate Blaine?

I remembered the first time they all met him at Rachel's party.

Mike had smiled and shook Blaine's hand. Then, after he kissed Rachel, sent him glares for the rest of the night. I had the feeling that had something to do with Tina.

Artie claimed that he rolled over Blaine's feet by accident for the entire evening, even though something in his eyes told me that it totally wasn't true.

Puckerman had whispered in my ear, asking if we were dating, to which I replied with a no, and he replied with a prompt "Good, because you can totally do better."

Finn had seemed disappointed that, because Blaine wasn't my boyfriend, he couldn't threaten him with castration like a normal brother. Instead, he just politely declined to acknowledge Blaine's existence for most of the evening.

And Sam, well, Sam had just nodded, gulped, and walked over to the drinks stand. And done some serious face sucking with Santana. That spoke volumes.

None of the guys liked Blaine. Not one of them. And I wanted them to like him so much – he was my boyfriend. The girls all gushed over Blaine and loved him and giggled whenever he spoke. Sort of like I did.

The boys, however, seemed determined not to like him at all. Every time he'd brought up sports, they'd just laughed him off. When he offered to hang out, they 'had other plans'. We had our places, in glee club. I was one of the girls – and my boyfriend wasn't. He was meant to hang around guys, not girls. Sure, he could hold his own (barely) in a conversation about fashion, but he was much more comfortable with sports and, well, guy stuff.

He didn't fit in with them at all, and it was their fault.

After all, Blaine couldn't have done anything. Blaine could never offend anyone. Blaine was perfect.

Blaine couldn't have been the source of the problem. There was something else going on here, something I couldn't put my finger on.

And I was going to figure it out.

I'm determined not to make myself look like an idiot in front of Kurt. Well, any more of an idiot than I already do.

I meet him at his locker at the end of the day, and we chat all the way to our cars.

I follow him home, like we organized, and pull into his driveway. He opens the door, and we walk into the lounge room. Kurt disappears into the kitchen for a second, and I notice that Finn is sitting on the couch. I give him a short glare before sitting on the other couch.

"I think we need to talk, Sam." He says simply, and I know what he's talking about.

"Not really. I get it. Quinn had feelings for you, and -," and Finn puts a hand up, as if to say, 'stop talking'. I do.

"Not about Quinn," he says shortly.

I give him a confused look, because I am, as the look would suggest, very much confused.

"We need to talk about Kurt."

AWWWW DAMN.

"W-W-What… what about um… um Kurt?" I barely manage to stutter the whole sentence out. Way to play it cool.

"I think you know," he says, crossing his arms.

"Ummm, no… umm no I don't." I'm just a master of denial, and Finn's a master interrogator. He's forcing it out of me.

I'm squirming. I'm actually squirming.

"Sam, it's okay. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?" Score one for Sam. Full thought produced, no fumbling. Then again, at last count it sits at about 1-2. So that's a bit of a bummer.

"Stop trying to pretend that you don't want to have your fun in his pants." I blush so hard, it shouldn't be legal. It shouldn't be possible. "Or, whatever it is that… that two guys would do… or something. I don't know. All I'm saying is, that you stare at him like he's the most important thing in the world."

I look at him in awe for a moment. Because Finn Hudson actually gets it.

I'm about to nod, when Kurt saunters into the room.

"We should get to my room," Kurt tells me, and I ignore the look that Finn gives me.

I've neither confirmed nor denied anything. Right?

Right.