Chapter 21

Good news! My granny is going to be okay. Mom told me it would be slow going, but she's going to be okay. Granny has been placed in a rehabilitation center, and my aunt who lives in Chicago flew in to relieve my mom for a while. Mom came home a few weeks ago. She was still worried about granny, but she was optimistic.

Since she's been home we've spent some time together. I love mom, but she's such a pestering lady and she's always asking me about boys and Puck. God, I wish I never brought him around. She knew about us when we were together (well not the secret part), and now that he's been coming back around she keeps trying to get us together or something. The loser has charmed her socks off and has her thinking he's this super great guy (which he kind of is), and seeing as how she hasn't seen me with a guy since Puck, she thinks I should try dating. I don't know. Don't ask me.

Aside from crazy mom stuff, I've been great. Check that out. Do you see me? I call that growth. Well, I've grown a little bit. I haven't snuck into any closets with Sam or with any other punks for that matter. So, I guess it goes without saying that…I'm doing pretty good.

It's been six weeks in total since I kicked Sam to the curb and three of those lovely weeks since he decided to show his punchable face at my house demanding we get back together, at which point I let Samuel Evans go for real. Like for real, for real.

Surprisingly, it's been easier than I thought it would be (that could be due to my Kurt and Puck), especially after seeing him and hearing all the things he had to say. Thankfully, I had Puck reminding me that I was better (not that I needed him to), better than Sam and better than the words I couldn't bring myself to believe in the first place.

That's not say Sam didn't try to make things harder on me, his impression of winning me over. After his showdown with Puck and me pushing him out of my life, he's kind of given me space. Sam's version of space, but space nonetheless. There weren't any random visits or calls. Sam even stopped putting letters in my locker, but that didn't stop him from trying. For the past three weeks he's been singing to me in glee when Mr. Schu gives him the opportunity. He doesn't say who he's singing to (he's not stupid, Puck would kill him), but I know. Eye contact and his choice of song are all the hint I need. It's obvious to me and only me – of course because no one knew about us – except for maybe Kurt and Puck.

Definitely Puck. I haven't missed the death glares directed at Sam. I haven't called him on it, yet, I'm not blind to the wack looks he's been throwing my way. For my sake, he hasn't beat Sam into oblivion. I've practically had to beg, barter, and bully him into keeping his hands to himself. Long before their confrontation on my porch, Puck hated Sam. He probably hates me for secretly smiling when Sam crooned me, though all Sam got was the stink eye. After yesterday, I'm sure Puck hates me and wants to bite my head off and God knows there will be nothing I can do to keep him from killing Sam.

I know it sounds ominous, but I didn't do anything stupid, at least nothing colossally stupid. No, I'd venture to say I did well because I am well. This has been a long road and I'm making my way down it much more smoothly now.

I'm not completely over Sam. In three weeks, not likely. There's like this one percent of me that goes aflutter when I see him and hear his melodic voice singing to me. Mentally, I'm in a good place, though, if you ask me. I much rather the slight flutter to the unbearable nausea and tears that use to accompany his presence. The fact that I haven't felt like puking, dying, or crying at the site of my ex for a while is progress. If I'm honest with myself, I didn't imagine that it could ever happen. I gave Sam more of me than I knew existed, but I have gotten over him, and I couldn't be more proud of myself.

That is why for my six week anti-versary (yeah, I made it up), Kurt and I went to the Lima Bean to celebrate with a cup of gourmet joe and some pastries. Meh, small victory, small reward. Don't judge me. Puck was invited but declined; he's such a loser sometimes. He swears I'm not over Sam yet (whatever). I'm not crying on his shoulder every other day, so yeah, I think there was something to celebrate. I don't even think he would have come with Kurt and me without a fuss either way. He tends toward the whiny when Kurt's around or mute and moody; so, I wasn't complaining.

Kurt and I had been enjoying our purchases and chatting like us girls do, when he walked into the Bean. When I laid my eyes on him there was no sick feeling in my stomach or that intense ache in my chest like I'd been staked through the heart with a spoon (dull, blunt object, very painful). I felt just fine, normal even, so much so I didn't think much of him being in the same room as me. But you know Sam, he has a habit of showing up where he's not wanted, unannounced. That would include the Bean anti-versary, not that I think he was stalking me or anything, really, I think it was just coincidence. However, like the awesome person that Sam is he couldn't just ignore me and Kurt or pretend he didn't see us like any other normal ex would. No, he had to come over and say hi.

If only that was all he said.

Thanks for reading. And get used to Sam because from here there's only going to be more of Sam, good and bad.

nakala