* BLINKING LIGHTS / 𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔.

they got to know each other really well during his sophomore year. being new to a school and getting slushied as a greeting wasn’t what he had planned, but he remembers it felt like quinn and finn both took him under their wings and made his experience at mckinley a good one. if he hadn’t walked into the choir room that fateful day, sam thinks so much would be different. he probably wouldn’t be in ohio right now. there was no reason to come back barring the glee club. sometimes he wonders a little too much about it, picturing himself spending nights at stallionz covered in glitter and not much else. quinn would probably still be at yale, finn would probably still be heading the glee club in mr. schue’s absence, but what about him? no disrespect towards mr. package and cobra, but sam never wanted to spend the rest of his life on stage alongside them. because of people like quinn, he got to come back home and be part of something as special as the glee club, but he might not have even stuck it out in the first place if it wasn’t for the way she washed slushie from his hair. everything happens for a reason. it’s something sam’s had to believe to make peace with what life has thrown him, his family, and even has friends. the older he gets, the more of the world he sees, the more genuine his belief in those words becomes. there’s a reason he and quinn are in the same place at the same time again, there’s a reason her mom burnt the turkey. it feels wrong to use fate as an excuse to spend more time with quinn, but better men than him would do the exact same thing. besides, it’s always easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission and he can tackle that later. right now, he’s taking quinn up on her offer to drive the two of them home, as scary as it feels to be behind the wheel of such a nice car. even worse, he’s trying to impress her, whether he wants to admit it or not. all he can picture is swerving off the road to avoid a cow and sending her into a panic while her car careens into a ditch. it might make a cool action shot, but unfortunately, life isn’t a james cameron movie. it’s not even a gary scott thompson movie and those aren’t even as good as james cameron’s. it’s just life. so maybe he should be careful, he thinks. before he can spend too much time thinking, he’s reaching to finish opening the door for quinn. it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, after all. it’s not long before he’s sitting beside her, finding that this cute little thing handles a little differently than the hunk of junk he’d grown used to before groceries became more important than a cool car. ‘ remember the way? ’ he asks, looking over at her for a brief second. ‘ i do, ’ he makes sure to add, not wanting quinn to think he’s that bad with directions. sure, sometimes he mistakes a right for a left, but it’s mostly muscle memory now. ‘ just wondering if you do too, ’ sam clarifies, figuring they may as well give into the nostalgia surrounding them and this entire situation.

their situations are different, and at times it seemed like they couldn’t be more different, but he knows quinn really gets it, gets everything he’s gone through in the short time they’ve known each other. sure, she can’t comprehend what it’s like living out of a hotel and getting up on stage every night, stripping down to nearly nothing, and grabbing at dollar bills to make sure her little brother had shoes that’d survive the rainy walks to and from school, but it’s the principle of the thing. she knows what it’s like to have a good life turned upside down and come out better for it. obviously sam didn’t know her before the whole beth thing, but he figures he likes her so much now that he couldn’t possibly have liked her as much before. and maybe he’s a little better now, too. ask him how and he’ll come up blank, but it’s the thought that counts and he thinks he’s grown for the better. he hopes quinn would agree. walking out of a soup kitchen on thanksgiving, he thinks she would. the proof’s in the pudding, after all. when she speaks, it’s just extra reassurance that his thoughts aren’t leading him astray, that quinn recognizes the change in him and still thinks he’s a good guy.  sam swears he’s said the very same thing to her, but it makes him smile anyway. they both deserve good things. maybe he’s biased, but he thinks they deserve good things a little more than anyone else who’d ever set foot in the choir room back at mckinley. he knows for a fact she does. now, with yale to call home and a posh red beetle, he thinks she’s getting all those good things. then she gets a text from her mom telling her she burnt the turkey and sam feels like he’s getting his fair share of good things too. it feels a little sadistic to think that way, but he can’t help it. his morals have always been the slightest bit misguided when it came to quinn. ‘ what are you talking about? i’m sure finn’ll have a nice thanksgiving too. he’s always having a good time even if he doesn’t know what’s going on. i sorta admire that about him, ’ he nods, silently hoping that every family in lima has a nice holiday, especially the ones they’ve just served. regardless, he knows he’ll enjoy his day. he just hopes quinn will be a part of that. at least, more a part of it than she already has been. it doesn’t seem likely at first, quinn being ever the polite guest and refusing to impose. it’s not an imposition at all, though. after all, sam offered and he knows his family would love to see her again. ‘ i’m positive. we always have room for one more, ’ he smiles, hoping his offer will force any shred of doubt from her mind and convince her that this is the right thing to do.

charm is a good way to put it, he thinks. sam doesn’t think he really has any talents aside from his ability to win people over. maybe it’s his looks or the impressions or a combination of both. either way, he’s thankful he’s got some of that in his back pocket. some men might use it for evil, but quinn knows he’s just messing around with her, so as far as he’s concerned, sam’s using his power for good. after all, she’s smiling, and what could be wrong about that? it’s infectious and familiar, bringing him back to the girls’ bathroom sophomore year. the setting seems creepy, just like the fact that he’s thanking his lucky stars for all his charm, but it’s never been like that with quinn. sure, he’s been overtly flirting with her since the moment they met, but that’s just what kids their age do. of course, she doesn’t really fall into that bracket anymore. quinn’s a college girl now. she might not want to flirt with him anymore. if that’s the case, he swears he’ll stop, but he hasn’t heard her complain just yet, and he’s been hanging on every word all morning. if she wasn’t into it, he’d get the hint. ‘ and you haven’t lost that uncomfortable smile when you can’t accept a compliment, ’ he points out, bringing their texted winks to life as he shoots one in her direction. it’s quick, hardly noticeable, really, but it’s there. moving forward, he tries to play it a little cooler than that, still as obsessed with his image as he was years prior. maybe even more, if that’s possible. ‘ it’ll be fun. it’s always fun. i think they’re just happy to be back home this year, y’know? ’ he explains, knowing quinn will get it without needing anymore detail. obviously he’s happy too, but he’s older and he understands how these things work. that’s not to say he understands the economy, however, because he doesn’t. not in the slightest bit. why couldn’t they just print more money for him and his family to have? the question haunts him to this day. but he’s still able to process the changes they all suffered through over the last few years. he’s not sure stevie and stacy, at their age, could. he’s lost in his thoughts when her phone buzzes, only looking back towards her when he hears her sigh and talk about her burnt turkey. later tonight, he’ll have to thank the big guy upstairs, but he thinks a simple glance will do for right now. ‘ looks like you just made new plans, ’ he tells her, wishing he had a nice car like hers to whisk quinn away in, but that might be kidnapping, so maybe it’s better that he doesn’t. ‘ we always have extra turkey if you want a plate. no gluten, either, ’ he tells her, hoping that’ll be an enticing enough offer to allot him a few more moments of her time.

hate is such a strong word. at least, that’s what everyone says. but to finn, it’s a waste of time. obviously he’s mad at quinn. in fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever been more mad at a person before. but what’s he going to gain from hating her? the more he thinks about it, the less it makes sense. it’s why he typically tries to keep his mind vacant. regardless, he’s hung up on the subject now that he’s started trying to wrap his head around it. what does it even mean to hate somebody? does he hate quinn? he can’t now that he’s already told her he doesn’t. that’d make him a liar. it’d make him no better than her or puck. normally, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. at least, when it comes to quinn. she’s so pure and holy and smart and on top of things. but right now, from where he’s standing, she’s not any of that anymore. she’s just a girl he fell in love with. more specifically, she’s a girl he’s still in love with. the thought by itself is heavy, but when he gets the note back without an explanation she was once dying to give him, finn can’t take it anymore. why should he have to? he’s already taken more than his fair share of quinn’s bullshit. it’s another thing he wants to tell her, but this isn’t the time or the place. it’s almost ironic that he’s thinking about that and all the while causing a scene of his own, ripping up the note into little, tiny pieces. now no one has to worry about this sheet of paper haunting them. no one has to worry about rereading an insincere i love you. it’s for the best, he thinks, as he’s left to face the mess he’s made. he can’t help but chuckle thinking about it. just a little while ago, he was stressing about the permanence of these words and now they’re laying in shambles on the ground. just a little while ago, he was keen on the idea of quinn being a permanent part of his life. that too is laying in shambles on the ground. it’s a myth, he thinks. just like time and just like hate, permanence is a myth. someone must’ve made it up to make themselves feel safe. but he gets it. he does. things change so much and it’s scary when they do. looking for comfort in solid ground isn’t a lot to ask for. it just doesn’t exist. so he feels bad for the sorry suckers looking for it, including himself. sorry enough that although class isn’t over yet, he’s rising from his chair, letting the legs squeak on the cheap linoleum floors as he grabs his book and storms out of the room, feeling like he made a mistake leaving quinn behind. he stops for a second to think about it, turns around once he hears the door shut behind him, just to steal one more quick look at her before he decides her mistake was worse. and even after that, he still doesn’t hate her.

yale’s probably so different than lima. in fact, there’s no probably about it. sam knows that quinn’s new world must be nothing like the one she left behind. being part of that wasn’t exactly ideal, wasn’t exactly what he planned when he gave her a promise ring sophomore year, but at least she’s come back. he just can’t help but wonder how long the trips home will last before she gets too wrapped up in all things new haven. after all, jodie foster’s clam bake sounds like a lot more fun than anything lima has to offer and he doesn’t even know what a clam bake is. it sounds fishy and probably smells that way too, so he can’t imagine it’s too enjoyable. but even after all these new experiences, she’s still quinn. he loves that about her. he always has. the girl beside him is so genuine and real. he thinks the two words mean the same thing, but that doesn’t matter. quinn’s still both. ‘ so gross. but there aren’t many pretty girls going through the soup kitchen line, so can you blame him? ’ he asks through his laughter, laying it on thin enough to pretend he’s joking, but thick enough for quinn to know he’s not. it’s innocent, though. he swears it is. obviously he thinks she’s pretty. that’s the least he could say about her, but he stops there, just to preserve some dignity. with all the yale boys that are inevitably falling at her foot, she doesn’t need any compliments from the lima losers back home. ‘ ah, good old judy, ’ he smiles, leaning against her car right beside her, careful not to scratch the red paint as he laughs again, offering a shrug when she turns the question on him. truthfully, he was hoping judy had plans with some of their other church friends, but he supposes it’s good for quinn to be able to spend this time with her mother. ‘ probably nothing too exciting. gonna eat, watch football. maybe play some with stevie if he wants. really boring stuff, ’ sam insists, though he’s actually excited about being able to spend the holiday with his family in their home. it’s the little things, really. the little things like the way quinn helped him babysit his siblings, like the way she brushed slushie from his hair when they first met, and even the way she broke into his locker for a piece of jewelry she now knows he could barely afford.

every moment without a pencil is one finn spends thinking about what he’ll write. something about this method of confession seems more permanent than a spoken conversation. if she had just waited until after class, the two of them could say whatever and have it be over with before they even parted ways. now, somebody’s going to have this slip of paper forever. if finn keeps it, he’ll be able to reread quinn professing her love over and over again. it sounds pathetic, and he thinks for a second it is pathetic, so maybe he’ll make sure she gets the piece of paper last. maybe then she’ll be the one saddled with technically unspoken words, forced to relive this moment every time she’s reaching in her bag for lip gloss and grabs the note instead. even if she decides to throw it out, finn knows it’ll catch her eye when she passes by the wastebasket. there’s no escaping this no matter how hard either of them try. and to think this isn’t even the worst of it. once the baby’s born, there’ll be a physical manifestation of quinn’s betrayal sharing this earthly plane with him. he can’t imagine how much that’ll hurt, especially since that little reminder is supposed to be his. obviously he’s nowhere near ready to be a father. he couldn’t even remember to bring a pen to class. he can’t be responsible for another life. but finn had enough time to convince himself that this was all going to be okay. little did he know the surprise he was in for after weeks of getting used to imagining a whole new life for himself. now it’s hard to go back to what he had pictured before. once again, it’s funny in the cruel sense of the word. ironic, too. at least, he thinks it’s ironic. maybe if he were paying more attention, he’d know if that was accurate. then again, it’s math class. he’s not sure how much this stuff has to do with iron. finn can’t think about all that for much longer considering quinn’s passing him a pen and he has to focus his thoughts elsewhere, namely on what he’s going to say to her. it’s going to last forever, so it has to be good. but then the moment comes to put ink on the paper and he’s drawing a blank. what do you say to that? how do you reply to a girl who swears she loves you while her actions say the opposite? he’s writing and crossing things out at a rapid pace, smudging the words with his hand as he tries hard to get this right. for now, he’s settling on a brief message: ‘ i don’t hate you. ’ there’s more he wants to say, but he’s pausing to pretend he’s paying attention to the lesson, instead just wracking his brain for a clue as to how he’s really feeling. other than a little numb, there’s not much there in the moment. ‘ why did you do it? ’ he scribbles next,  wondering if he even wants to know the answer to that qustion. in all actuality, he probably doesn’t. she probably doesn’t even have an answer. regardless, he’d kick himself if he didn’t ask wen he had the chance, so with that, he’s handing the piece of paper back to her, folded up and paired with her pen.

there’s truly nothing like patting yourself on the back after a long day of volunteering. of course, that’s not why sam does it. it’s just a nice thing to look forward to after sweating over other people’s food for seven hours, stomach grumbling all the while. all he could remember was how good those mashed potatoes tasted. maybe there was something special in the recipe or maybe he was just hungry last time he found himself on the other side of the soup kitchen’s serving line. regardless, it felt nice being able to give back today. it felt even better doing it alongside quinn, someone who gave him so much when he needed it. ‘ i think that old guy was flirting with you, ’ he teases as the two of them walk out of the building, a smile pulling at his lips as he glances over towards her. after months of not seeing her, sam’s found it’s pretty difficult not to smile when he looks in quinn’s direction. he’s just missed her, that’s all. ‘ what are your dinner plans? ’ he asks, hands in his pockets when he pushes his luck. obviously quinn probably has plans with her family, but part of him wants to spend a little more time with her; at least a few minutes for them to just be them and not be volunteers waiting on everyone else.

for whatever reason, she’s still there, lingering just like all his memories of them together have up until this point. it’s not necessarily unwelcome. just distracting. then again, finn’s not known for the way he pays attention in class. quinn’s just a convenient excuse to explain his blank stare and the radio silence in his head. hopefully no one notices how out of it he is, but the fact that he’s in a classroom that isn’t his is already drawing unwanted attention in his direction. as if that’s not enough, there’s no doubt in his otherwise momentarily empty mind that everyone’s passing notes and texting about mckinley’s hottest new scandal involving him, the girl to his right, and his best friend. it feels like too much for one person to bear, but he does have unusually broad shoulders. maybe this is a normal burden for someone his size. it certainly doesn’t feel that way, but life is weird. it’s crazy and it doesn’t make any sense, hence their current situation. finn doesn’t think even tina could figure this one out and she’s the closest thing to a genius the glee club has. barring this incident, even quinn’s pretty smart, and this seems lost on her as well. the thought softens him the slightest bit. after all, how can he be mad at her when she’s just as confused as he is? sure, maybe it’s partially her fault, but he’s got a feeling that if she knew the outcome before making the choice to sleep with puck, she wouldn’t have done it. or, she would’ve been more careful about it. everything’s making his head hurt so much and all he wants is to go to the nurse’s office and lay down for a little while, but finn’s already caused enough interruptions for the class. besides, quinn’s grabbing his attention once more as she passes a note between the space in between them. he can’t leave now, not if she’s going to try and explain herself via pen and paper. is this the start of her five minutes? does this mean he gets to escape the verbal sparring quinn’s known for? if it does, he’s all for it. that’s the thought process finn’s going with as he unfolds the piece of paper, trying to be discreet about it so the teacher doesn’t insist he read it to the class. the way his eyes roll comes naturally, as does the way he’s biting at the inside of his cheek. she can’t just use a word like love so freely. it’s not fair to people like him who mean it when they say it. he’s about to tell her that too, searching his desk for a pen or a pencil, but to no avail. he doesn’t want to, but finn feels like it’s practically a necessity for him to lean over towards quinn, whispering to her in hopes of avoiding a confrontation with the teacher about his countless disruptions: ‘ can i borrow a pencil? ’

SAM: then the secret's safe with me 🙊

this is something that’s already gotten the lot of them in trouble and at the moment, it shows no signs of slowing down. funny how two people can make a decision that comes crashing down on an outside party who had no say in anything to begin with. obviously not haha funny, but more like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him funny. and of course he’s the butt of the joke. he always has been. whether finn’s too tall or too dumb, people find a way to laugh at him rather than with him. worst of all, he doesn’t even realize it half the time. maybe the dumb jokes hold a little truth to them. obviously they must if he really believed quinn ever cared about him at all. he feels especially stupid now that he knows the whole school’s known the truth about this baby before he did. him, one of the two men involved. he should’ve heard the truth from quinn without the whole glee club surrounding them. but the past is the past and he can’t do anything to change it now, as much as he wishes he could go back and make different bad decisions this time around. but would he if he got the chance? finn can’t say for certain. as much as this hurts, everything that happened before this was so good. the cheap picnics, the endless breadsticks, the time his mom drove them to the mall to see the hangover. everything. it almost feels entirely worth it to be sitting in a classroom that’s not definitely not his, hurting over a kid that’s also not his, and missing a girl who’s not his anymore. it’s a hard pill to swallow, but all of this is. quinn’s only making it harder for him when she walks into the room and as mad as he is, he’s looking down at his desk, biting down on his lip to keep from smirking at how determined she is, how determined she’s always been. that’s quinn. but he has to be strong. he can’t let her do this and then concede the minute she does something cute. maybe if they were boyfriend and girlfriend that would work, but they’re a far ways from that. ‘ can you just stop, quinn? seriously, it’s embarrassing, ’ he shakes his head, trying to keep quiet and play along with the teacher’s lesson, acting as if he’s in the right classroom and not infringing on someone else’s education with his and quinn’s dramatics. ‘ i’m in class right now. maybe you should be too, ’ he suggests, figuring she may as well take advantage of her education considering it’s what she has left. but her pleading is wearing him down, leading him to slam his book shut and look towards her, still able to feel the class’ eyes on the scene they’ve created. ‘ after, okay? five minutes after class. you should probably go to yours, ’ he insists, aware of how hypocritical his statement is, but maybe quinn hasn’t yet picked up on the fact  that neither of them of them belong here. 

SAM: 👾👾👾

SAM: just a joke! calm down fabray ;)

SAM: lol typically but not always ;)

SAM: inspird by you ofc lol

SAM: i guess ill cut out gluten though?

SAM: what's gluten quinn