It had been at least a month since Karofsky had spoken to Sam. They saw each other in the hallway and nodded politely to each other in history, but other than that they avoided each other like the plague.

He'd been working hard this past month to make himself better, so that maybe someday Sam would talk to him again. He'd even started seeing a therapist, thanks to the help of his mother.

The ex Mrs. Karofsky lived across town in an apartment building with her boyfriend and son, Karofsky's replacement. He wasn't really sure how his parents had even gotten together, his mother being a free-spirited liberal and his father a narrow-minded redneck.

They'd broken up when Karofsky was six, and after a nasty custody battle his mom all but disappeared. She'd left him completely alone to deal with his fathers anger problems… but that was a whole other story on it's own. When he saw her again towards the end of seventh grade she'd begged him to let her back into his life, and promised she would do whatever it took to make it up to him. He figured driving him to, and paying for, sessions with a therapist would be the perfect way to let her do just that, even if it was four years later.

His shrinks name was Mr. Robinson.

"Why do you say you need to be here, David?" Mr. Robinson had asked the first day. He peered at Karofsky over his spectacles, a hint of gray sprinkled in his dark black hair.

"I have issues handling my anger." He said simply. He wasn't really sure why he even asked, it was more than likely written on a paper in his file somewhere. "I have a problem with shoving people into lockers… I even threatened someone's life once."

Mr. Robinson raised his eyebrows. "Why do you think you did that?"

"He- Kurt was gay."

"That's all?"

"Do I need a better reason? I was just tired of that fairy shoving his gayness in my face." His voice trembled a bit, and he knew he'd tipped the doctor off.

"You know what, David? I don't think your being honest with me."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You're on the football team?" Karofsky nodded. "Here's what I think happened. I think this boy, Kurt, scared you. I think he made you feel some things, some things that you didn't understand, and you knew that if your football buddies even THOUGHT you were confused you would never hear the end of it. So you bullied him."

Karofsky stared down at his hands, his brows knitted together. "I kissed him… without his consent. I knew it was wrong... but I just needed to see. It felt so normal. It felt right… but the whole time all I could hear was my dad's voice, telling me over and over that 'queers are scum'. So I threatened him. I turned into my dad… I became the monster I've been trying to escape." Karofsky rolled up the sleeves of his letterman jacket showing bruises, all in different stages of healing. Anyone else would have sworn they were just from football, but unfortunately they weren't. "This is what he does to me… and I did the same thing to Kurt and Sam."

He choked on Sam's name, making the doctor's eyebrows shoot up again, but thankfully he didn't ask.

"I'm just like him."

"Can anyone tell me why nationalism was so important in the unification of Germany?" asked Mrs. Harmen, Sam's history teacher, a middle aged woman that was the spitting image of one Professor Trelawny.

This was his least favorite class, not only because he shared it with Dave, but also because history was the driest subject imaginable.

The obnoxious girl next to him opened her mouth to answer the question, but was interrupted by the sudden opening of the door. All eyes in class momentarily flicked to the door, curious to see who was visiting, but since no one recognized him they all lost interest momentarily.

Sam's were the only eye's that remained glued to him.

"Hello." The tall, slim, boy said to Mrs. Harmen. "I'm new."

Mrs. Robinson took his schedule card and examined it, while he anxiously tugged at his coffee colored curls. "Stephen Daniels…" Her eyes traveled around the room. "Edwards.. Enfinger.. Evans… Ah, perfect. Take the empty seat right behind Mr. Evans, Mr. Evans raise your hand, please."

Sam felt his face flush and he reluctantly slipped his hand into the air. The boy walked briskly down the aisle and slid into his seat.

"Alphabetical order… how original." Stephen whispered to the back of Sam's head.

Sam smirked, and peered back at the boy behind him, giving him a quick nod in agreement before turning his attention back to the lecture.

Mrs. Harmen finally finished her babbling with five minutes left in the period, enough time for Sam to turn around and introduce himself.

"Hi, Stephen right? I'm Sam." Sam wasn't sure he'd ever seen such a, for lack of a better word, pretty boy. It looked as if his face had been carved by angels.

"Nice to meet you, Sam." He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to a murmur. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the most perfect lips?"

Sam felt his face grow hot. 'Uh… no. I'm actually more used to being insulted about them actually."

"Oh. Well I think they're perfect." Stephen said mesmerizing Sam with the flutter of his eyelashes.

"Your eyes are so… green." Sam said stupidly.

Stephen just laughed, and thankfully the bell rang to excuse Sam from any further embarrassment. He turned back around, rushing to pack his things so he wouldn't be late for his next class. He almost didn't notice when Stephen dropped a folded piece of paper on his desk.

"We should hang out sometime. Text me? 407-370-8849"