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Much More Than I Should

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High school hadn't started long ago for Quinn Fabray, but she already had a major crush. Sam Evans. He was in her gym class for first period, and they were both freshmen. A month into high school, and she was in deep.

Her friend, Brittney Pierce was on the Cheerios cheerleading team with him, and she knew about her crush. Brittany had told Sam about Quinn's crush a while ago.

Although Brittany was always telling her to just go for it, she could never ask him out. She was certain that since Sam hadn't done anything, even with the knowledge that she liked him, that he was not interested.

Math with Brittney Wednesday afternoon was uneventful. Just the usual, with Brittney making crude jokes about her and Sam with Quinn blushing. "Today is going better than the rest of the week had been," she thought peacefully as the bell rang. And this was true.

On Monday, she woke up just as school started, on Tuesday, she twisted her ankle so painfully that it hurt to walk for the rest if the day, but today was different. Today was good. Walking to her sixth period English class, she couldn't have been happier. This was her last class of the day. What made it even better was that as she turned the corner, she got to see Sam.

That was unusual, for he usually stayed down the hall by his class. But there was a few times where she got to see him before sixth. Smiling, Quinn walked slower, to see him for just a few more precious seconds.

Sam slowed up his walking as well and cupped his hand to his mouth, then half yelled: "Get off your phone!"

To this short blonde girl that walked past him. Right as Quinn was walking into the classroom, she saw Sam pick up his arm and put it over the girl's shoulder. Walking to her seat, Quinn's legs felt numb and like Jello. She could fall over any second. Her heart dropped and her mouth instantly felt dry. Staring at her desk for a few seconds before sitting, she blinked quickly to stop the current onslaught of tears that threatened to show.

"Why?" She thought as she fiddled with the pencil she got out to distract her from crying.

"I'm blonde too. Why? Is it because she's shorter? Just... why?"

The tears threatened to fall down her cheeks but she scolded herself.

"No. Not right now. When you get home. Not now."

She quickly sniffed and blinked fast to dry her eyes.

Noah Puckerman, or Puck, as everyone called him, sat in front of her in his normal seat.

"What's up?" He asked. He could sense her depression.

"Nothing," she lied.

But that answer didn't work for long. By the end of the period, he had figured it out anyway.

"Oh. Yeah, I know her. I don't know her name, but Finn has a locker next to her," Puck said when the two walked outside and saw them all over each other when class ended.

Quinn said nothing, so Puck continued: "She's hella ugly though. But I will admit she's got an ass."

Letting out a small choked sob, Quinn covered her face.

Puck closed his mouth and looked at her apologetically.

"I'm sorry. That was stupid," he apologized.

Shaking her head, Quinn replied, "No, it's okay. Really. It's stupid for me to get upset over this."

"Let me walk you home?"

"I'll be fine," the sad blonde says as she walked away.
***
"Eww! He's so ugly!" Sugar Motta had told Quinn that morning when she saw who she was oogling in gym.

Quinn laughs silently at her words now, as she lays in bed, with all the lights off, and the curtains closed off.

"If only she was right," Quinn thought sadly.

Now Quinn lets the tears fall freely down her checks and into her pillow. She was scared for tomorrow.

"Everyday gets worse and worse," she thought, "Waking up late was annoying, as was twisting my ankle. But this is worse than any twisted ankle. How must I be if that girl really is as ugly as Puck says?"

Feeling too tired and aggravated, she can't even get out of bed.

Thinking about what Puck said to her yesterday after school kept going through her mind.

They were just hanging out after school, by the W building, where they could see the broken cars for auto body classes.
"We should totally hop over the wall and go into one of those cars. We can even make a movie of it!" Puck said giddily.
Quinn immediately put her foot down on it.

"No way, Puckerman. I'm not trying to get suspended," she said as a kneejerk response.

He didn't mention it again after that.
But laying in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, Quinn realized something.

"I don't care. I don't care at all anymore."

Grabbing her phone from her bedside table, she quickly texted Puck.

Q: hey. I was thinking about what u said. And we should totally get in 1 of those cars. Txt me when u get this.

Laying her phone on her bed, Quinn smiled a small smile. The first smile she's had for almost twelve hours, she realized, looking at the time and seeing it was almost three in the morning.

"This is about to get hella good. Because I just got over Sam. Normally it takes me longer, but here I am. Completely over in just a few hours. Go me. I fucking rock."
The next morning was definitely one of Quinn Fabray's finer mornings.

"You've got this. You are an awesome girl who looks absolutely amazing today!" Were Quinn's words while she put on her makeup, looking at herself in the mirror.
In gym, she couldn't stop smiling and laughing. Even though that was her first class of the day, and Sam was in it, she had a great time.

"Stop smiling. You look like a physcopath," one of her friends, Santana said grimly at gym.

"I can't help it! I'm just so happy!" Quinn exclaimed.

That morning, the gym class were in five different rows, and with one person in the front of the line facing the line. People in the line would go up one at a time to do burpees for a full minute, and do as many as they can. The person already at the front of the line would count them.

Quinn's counter for the burpees was one of Sam's friends, who Quinn did not know the name of. She was not nervous at all. If it were any other day, she might have been over the fact that Sam was right next to her line, counting for one of her friends. So he had a full view of her. But that still didn't make her nervous.

As the last person before her went up, she immediately starting think of her happy place.
~~~
Quinn was wearing her favorite white heels. They were beautiful. Her grandmother gave her them long ago. She was wearing her favorite pink spring top, that flowed past her hips, and hung down her midthighs. Wearing short shorts, she easily walked in the summer heat. But she loved it. It was part of the small amount of time that it didn't not snow or rain in where she was living. Helena, Montana. And she was next to her beloved Grandma Debbie. The amazing, witty, grandmother that she had known all her life. She had recently moved from Thousand Oaks, California, living with her parents in a big blue house that was split into four areas. For four apartments. Quinn and her family  had the bottom right one, with her grandmother in the bottom left one.
And they were cleaning her dad's car while he slept late into the afternoon.
~~~
But that was not the way things are now. Her dad had thrown those shoes in the creek, he had sold his old car in place of a new one, and she now lived in sunny California. Far away from her grandmother, the car dealership, her parents, and the creek.

For the sake of this, though, she went there when her minute of burpees came up. And that was were she was still when the gym teacher called time, with Quinn at eighteen burpees.

And that wasn't a bad number for a girl. The most fit boys that were in her gym class that were athletes got around twenty-four.

And Journalism made her day even better.

"Can we go look at the yearbooks at counseling for the picture?" Quinn asked Ms. Schertell a little after class started.

"Sure."

And so Quinn and her friend, Puck went out to go to the counseling office to get the 1998 yearbook. They needed the yearbook for a picture of one of the older teachers for an article on the eighties and nineties that Quinn was working on.

"I got your text last night," Puck said, breaking the silence, "But I didn't reply because I didn't think you were serious. I wasn't serious when I said that. What made you change your mind?"

"I just thought it over," Quinn replied, "And I realized that it would be a lot of fun if we just went for it and did it."

"There's no way we're going to do it. It was just a joke."

"We'll see about that. We definitely have to do it before we graduate!"

After grabbing that 1998 yearbook, they headed to the main administration to see if they could find any earlier ones, because that was the goal.

"Sorry, but the best place to check would probably be the library," the secretary replied when Quinn asked if she had any yearbooks.

As they walked down the hall to get back outside, Quinn asked out loud, "Why didn't we think of that?!"

When they got to the library, the librarian informed them: "Sorry, I don't have any yearbooks, and a young man already came through here and asked."

"Oh, no. What did he look like?" Quinn asked excitedly.

They were essentially in a race against Eduardo, another journalist in her class that was looking for the same thing, for the same reason. Eduardo had said that he just wanted to help her, but Quinn made a contest of everything.

"He was older, with curly dark hair," the librarian explained, describing some features of Eduardo.

"Oh, no!" Quinn repeated, running for the door.

Puck, however, remained calm.

"How long ago did he pass by here?" He inquired.

"About five minutes ago, and if you want another place to check, try the Vice Principal's office."

"Thank you," Puck said graciously and hurried after Quinn.

Puck went into the Vice Principal's office, returning not long after.

"Nothing."

The entire time back to the class, Quinn was ranting.

"We were just five minutes behind! We should have won!"

When they got to the classroom, they showed Ms. Schertell the yearbook. Eduardo was already there, flipping through his yearbook. From 1997.

"Darn it!" Quinn kept saying on repeat after she saw what year Eduardo had.
He looked up and handed her the book so she could look for Mr. Egan herself. After flipping through it she found the staff page but Mr. Egan was not in it.

"Oh my George, he was not even a teacher at this time!" Quinn exclaimed when she saw she couldn't find him, "So we really did win, Puck, because he wasn't a teacher in this year so we do have the earliest picture!"

Eduardo looked confused and took the book and looked for himself. And Quinn was right. So he went to go put the yearbook away while Puck looked through the student handbook from 1997.

"Mr. Egan is listed on here, Quinn."

"Well then why isn't he in the yearbook?"

"I don't know but, I guess we did win."

The rest of the day was uneventful. As soon as Quinn got to sixth period, she asked Mr. Egan why he wasn't in the yearbook.

"Oh, I thought I could get away with not putting myself in the yearbook because I was the yearbook advisor that year."

"Oh wow," Quinn thought to herself, "And here I thought it was some huge mystery!"

Before sixth period, she did not see Sam. Probably for the better, although she wouldn't like to admit it, she did think he was a little bit attractive, even if she tried to say she was completely over him in her mind.

"Who are you waiting for? Dominic?"

Quinn asked Santana slyly as they waited outside their English classroom.

"No, of course not!" Santana said, "I'm just waiting for somebody else."

Quinn checks her phone, for the time and then looks up. There's Sam all by himself with no blonde girl. But as soon as she realizes this, he runs up to two cheerleaders and puts his arms around both of them.

"Wait a minute," Quinn thinks to herself, "I think I know one of those cheerleaders."

Quinn takes off on a quick walk to see if she can catch up. She loses them briefly and finds them but only the cheerleaders and no Sam. She catches up and passes the cheerleaders and looks back one of them is that girl in her journalism class that she talked to once.

"Well, I could just try talking to her tomorrow and see if she could know anything! Because I highly doubt she even knows him and she looked a bit flustered as if he just did that randomly! So he probably is... No. I do not want to think about that it does not matter, right it?" She quickly scolded herself for thinking that he could and would ever return the feelings she has tried to keep hidden for so long. And so she went home to continue to ponder over what was going on. And the more she thought about it the more she realized.

"If," she thought, "He was dating that blonde girl, why would he randomly put his arms around those two cheerleaders? Obviously he isn't dating anyone and since he doesn't know them, it looks a little bit suspicious since he did it right when I looked up! Tomorrow I will have to continue to investigate."

But Quinn was really happy that it didn't hurt her as much as yesterday's did. Because that was truly painful. But now she is just wondering what is going on in her life right now. And after all, she's always been a sucker for mysteries.

"Who was that guy you were with yesterday?" Quinn asked nonchalantly when she caught up to Julianna, the cheerleader she knew, the next day after first period.

"Oh, he's a senior," she replied, blushing cutely.
"No, I mean the other one that put his arm over you and that other cheerleader."

"Oh, Sam? He's a good friend of mine. He was just like, 'give me that gold chain.'"

Quinn gave a fake laugh and just said, "Oh! I didn't know, because you were blushing so much, and I thought that maybe you didn't even know him."

"No, I know him. We're close friends."
With that Quinn said a quick parting farewell and left.

"And then he said, 'give me that gold chain,"' Quinn explained to Puck in journalism later that day.

"What does that even mean?" He asked quietly.

"I looked it up in good ol' urban dictionary. It means: 'Gold chaining put simply is the act of talking up one of the boys therefore increasing his chances of impressing a person of the opposite sex one can also gold chain himself, this is only effective when the object can subtly but surely make himself known as a 'boss dog'."'

"So..." Puck started after a long pause of thinking, "He was trying to get her to talk to him yo impress someone?"

"I guess so."

Walking to her sixth period before twelve o'clock felt weird. Since it was minimum day, the school gets out at one o'clock. As Quinn was turning the corner for her English class, she looked up and saw Sam hanging around the corner.

As she walked closer, he turned the corner and disappeared from her line of sight. But when it was her turn to make the turn around the corner, she saw Sam leaning into the doorway of her classroom. She passed through the doorway, avoiding his look.

"What was that about?" She asked herself quietly as she sat down, "Does he even know anyone in this class?" As an after thought, she added, "Well, there are a few short blondes in this class, so possibly."

She didn't see him after school. And she wouldn't see him Monday because there was no school. Yup, this weekend promised to be stress free.

High school hadn't started long ago for Quinn Fabray, but she already had a major crush. Sam Evans. He was in her gym class for first period, and they were both freshmen. A month into high school, and she was in deep.

Her friend, Brittney Pierce was on the Cheerios cheerleading team with him, and she knew about her crush. Brittany had told Sam about Quinn's crush a while ago. Although Brittany was always telling her to just go for it, she could never ask him out. She was certain that since Sam hadn't done anything, even with the knowledge that she liked him, that he was not interested.

Math with Brittney Wednesday afternoon was uneventful. Just the usual, with Brittney making crude jokes about her and Sam with Quinn blushing.

"Today is going better than the rest of the week had been," she thought peacefully as the bell rang.

And this was true. In Monday, she woke up just as school started, on Tuesday, she twisted her ankle so painfully that it hurt to walk for the rest if the day, but today was different. Today was good.

Walking to her sixth period English class, she couldn't have been happier. This was her last class of the day. What made it even better was that as she turned the corner, she got to see Sam. That was unusual, for he usually stayed down the hall by his class. But there was a few times where she got to see him before sixth.

Smiling, Quinn walked slower, to see him for just a few more precious seconds.

Sam slowed up his walking as well and cupped his hand to his mouth, then half yelled: "Get off your phone!" To this short blonde girl that walked past him.

Right as Quinn was walking into the classroom, she saw Sam pick up his arm and put it over the girl's shoulder.

Walking to her seat, Quinn's legs felt numb and like Jello. She could fall over any second. Her heart dropped and her mouth instantly felt dry. Staring at her desk for a few seconds before sitting, she blinked quickly to stop the current onslaught of tears that threatened to show.

"Why?" She thought as she fiddled with the pencil she got out to distract her from crying.

"I'm blonde too. Why? Is it because she's shorter? Just... why?"

The tears threatened to fall down her cheeks but she scolded herself.

"No. Not right now. When you get home. Not now."

She quickly sniffed and blinked fast to dry her eyes.

Noah Puckerman, or Puck, as everyone called him, sat in front of her in his normal seat.

"What's up?" He asked. He could sense her depression.

"Nothing," she lied.

But that answer didn't work for long. By the end of the period, he had figured it out anyway.

"Oh. Yeah, I know her. I don't know her name, but Finn has a locker next to her," Puck said when the two walked outside and saw them all over each other when class ended.

Quinn said nothing, so Puck continued: "She's hella ugly though. But I will admit she's got an ass."

Letting out a small choked sob, Quinn covered her face.

Puck closed his mouth and looked at her apologetically.

"I'm sorry. That was stupid," he apologized.

Shaking her head, Quinn replied, "No, it's okay. Really. It's stupid for me to get upset over this."

"Let me walk you home?"

"I'll be fine," the sad blonde says as she walked away.
***
"Eww! He's so ugly!" Sugar Motta had told Quinn that morning when she saw who she was oogling.

Quinn laughs silently at her words now, as she lays in bed, with all the lights off, and the curtains closed off.

"If only she was right," Quinn thought sadly.

Now Quinn lets the tears fall freely down her checks and into her pillow. She was scared for tomorrow.

"Everyday gets worse and worse," she thought, "Waking up late was annoying, as was twisting my ankle. But this is worse than any twisted ankle. How must I be if that girl really is as ugly as Puck says?"

Feeling too tired and aggravated, she can't even get out of bed.

Thinking about what Puck said to her yesterday after school kept going through her mind.

They were just hanging out after school, by the W building, where they could see the broken cars for auto body classes.
"We should totally hop over the wall and go into one of those cars. We can even make a movie of it!" Puck said giddily.
Quinn immediately put her foot down on it.

"No way, Puckerman. I'm not trying to get suspended," she said as a kneejerk response.

He didn't mention it again after that.
But laying in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, Quinn realized something.

"I don't care. I don't care at all anymore."

Grabbing her phone from her bedside table, she quickly texted Puck.

Q: hey. I was thinking about what u said. And we should totally get in 1 of those cars. Txt me when u get this.

Laying her phone on her bed, Quinn smiled a small smile. The first smile she's had for almost twelve hours, she realized, looking at the time and seeing it was almost three in the morning.

"This is about to get hella good. Because I just got over Sam. Normally it takes me longer, but here I am. Completely over in just a few hours. Go me. I fucking rock."
The next morning was definitely one of Quinn Fabray's finer mornings.

"You've got this. You are an awesome girl who looks absolutely amazing today!" Were Quinn's words while she put on her makeup, looking at herself in the mirror.
In gym, she couldn't stop smiling and laughing. Even though that was her first class of the day, and Sam was in it, she had a great time.

"Stop smiling. You look like a physcopath," one of her friends, Santana said grimly at gym.

"I can't help it! I'm just so happy!" Quinn exclaimed.

That morning, the gym class were in five different rows, and with one person in the front of the line facing the line. People in the line would go up one at a time to do burpees for a full minute, and do as many as they can. The person already at the front of the line would count them.

Quinn's counter for the burpees was one of Sam's friends, who Quinn did not know the name of. She was not nervous at all. If it were any other day, she might have been over the fact that Sam was right next to her line, counting for one of her friends. So he had a full view of her. But that still didn't make her nervous.

As the last person before her went up, she immediately starting think of her happy place.
~~~
Quinn was wearing her favorite white heels. They were beautiful. Her grandmother gave her them long ago. She was wearing her favorite pink spring top, that flowed past her hips, and hung down her midthighs. Wearing short shorts, she easily walked in the summer heat. But she loved it. It was part of the small amount of time that it didn't not snow or rain in where she was living. Helena, Montana. And she was next to her beloved Grandma Debbie. The amazing, witty, grandmother that she had known all her life. She had recently moved from Thousand Oaks, California, living with her parents in a big blue house that was split into four areas. For four apartments. Quinn and her family  had the bottom right one, with her grandmother in the bottom left one.
And they were cleaning her dad's car while he slept late into the afternoon.
~~~
But that was not the way things are now. Her dad had thrown those shoes in the creek, he had sold his old car in place of a new one, and she now lived in sunny California. Far away from her grandmother, the car dealership, her parents, and the creek.

For the sake of this, though, she went there when her minute of burpees came up. And that was were she was still when the gym teacher called time, with Quinn at eighteen burpees.

And that wasn't a bad number for a girl. The most fit boys that were in her gym class that were athletes got around twenty-four.

And Journalism made her day even better.

"Can we go look at the yearbooks at counseling for the picture?" Quinn asked Ms. Schertell a little after class started.

"Sure."

And so Quinn and her friend, Puck went out to go to the counseling office to get the 1998 yearbook. They needed the yearbook for a picture of one of the older teachers for an article on the eighties and nineties that Quinn was working on.

"I got your text last night," Puck said, breaking the silence, "But I didn't reply because I didn't think you were serious. I wasn't serious when I said that. What made you change your mind?"

"I just thought it over," Quinn replied, "And I realized that it would be a lot of fun if we just went for it and did it."

"There's no way we're going to do it. It was just a joke."

"We'll see about that. We definitely have to do it before we graduate!"

After grabbing that 1998 yearbook, they headed to the main administration to see if they could find any earlier ones, because that was the goal.

"Sorry, but the best place to check would probably be the library," the secretary replied when Quinn asked if she had any yearbooks.

As they walked down the hall to get back outside, Quinn asked out loud, "Why didn't we think of that?!"

When they got to the library, the librarian informed them: "Sorry, I don't have any yearbooks, and a young man already came through here and asked."

"Oh, no. What did he look like?" Quinn asked excitedly.

They were essentially in a race against Eduardo, another journalist in her class that was looking for the same thing, for the same reason. Eduardo had said that he just wanted to help her, but Quinn made a contest of everything.

"He was older, with curly dark hair," the librarian explained, describing some features of Eduardo.

"Oh, no!" Quinn repeated, running for the door.

Puck, however, remained calm.

"How long ago did he pass by here?" He inquired.

"About five minutes ago, and if you want another place to check, try the Vice Principal's office."

"Thank you," Puck said graciously and hurried after Quinn.

Puck went into the Vice Principal's office, returning not long after.

"Nothing."

The entire time back to the class, Quinn was ranting.

"We were just five minutes behind! We should have won!"

When they got to the classroom, they showed Ms. Schertell the yearbook. Eduardo was already there, flipping through his yearbook. From 1997.

"Darn it!" Quinn kept saying on repeat after she saw what year Eduardo had.
He looked up and handed her the book so she could look for Mr. Egan herself. After flipping through it she found the staff page but Mr. Egan was not in it.

"Oh my George, he was not even a teacher at this time!" Quinn exclaimed when she saw she couldn't find him, "So we really did win, Puck, because he wasn't a teacher in this year so we do have the earliest picture!"

Eduardo looked confused and took the book and looked for himself. And Quinn was right. So he went to go put the yearbook away while Puck looked through the student handbook from 1997.

"Mr. Egan is listed on here, Quinn."

"Well then why isn't he in the yearbook?"

"I don't know but, I guess we did win."

The rest of the day was uneventful. As soon as Quinn got to sixth period, she asked Mr. Egan why he wasn't in the yearbook.

"Oh, I thought I could get away with not putting myself in the yearbook because I was the yearbook advisor that year."

"Oh wow," Quinn thought to herself, "And here I thought it was some huge mystery!"

Before sixth period, she did not see Sam. Probably for the better, although she wouldn't like to admit it, she did think he was a little bit attractive, even if she tried to say she was completely over him in her mind.

"Who are you waiting for? Dominic?"

Quinn asked Santana slyly as they waited outside their English classroom.

"No, of course not!" Santana said, "I'm just waiting for somebody else."

Quinn checks her phone, for the time and then looks up. There's Sam all by himself with no blonde girl. But as soon as she realizes this, he runs up to two cheerleaders and puts his arms around both of them.

"Wait a minute," Quinn thinks to herself, "I think I know one of those cheerleaders."

Quinn takes off on a quick walk to see if she can catch up. She loses them briefly and finds them but only the cheerleaders and no Sam. She catches up and passes the cheerleaders and looks back one of them is that girl in her journalism class that she talked to once.

"Well, I could just try talking to her tomorrow and see if she could know anything! Because I highly doubt she even knows him and she looked a bit flustered as if he just did that randomly! So he probably is... No. I do not want to think about that it does not matter, right it?" She quickly scolded herself for thinking that he could and would ever return the feelings she has tried to keep hidden for so long. And so she went home to continue to ponder over what was going on. And the more she thought about it the more she realized.

"If," she thought, "He was dating that blonde girl, why would he randomly put his arms around those two cheerleaders? Obviously he isn't dating anyone and since he doesn't know them, it looks a little bit suspicious since he did it right when I looked up! Tomorrow I will have to continue to investigate."

But Quinn was really happy that it didn't hurt her as much as yesterday's did. Because that was truly painful. But now she is just wondering what is going on in her life right now. And after all, she's always been a sucker for mysteries.

"Who was that guy you were with yesterday?" Quinn asked nonchalantly when she caught up to Julianna, the cheerleader she knew, the next day after first period.

"Oh, he's a senior," she replied, blushing cutely.
"No, I mean the other one that put his arm over you and that other cheerleader."

"Oh, Sam? He's a good friend of mine. He was just like, 'give me that gold chain.'"

Quinn gave a fake laugh and just said, "Oh! I didn't know, because you were blushing so much, and I thought that maybe you didn't even know him."

"No, I know him. We're close friends."
With that Quinn said a quick parting farewell and left.

"And then he said, 'give me that gold chain,"' Quinn explained to Puck in journalism later that day.

"What does that even mean?" He asked quietly.

"I looked it up in good ol' urban dictionary. It means: 'Gold chaining put simply is the act of talking up one of the boys therefore increasing his chances of impressing a person of the opposite sex one can also gold chain himself, this is only effective when the object can subtly but surely make himself known as a 'boss dog'."'

"So..." Puck started after a long pause of thinking, "He was trying to get her to talk to him yo impress someone?"

"I guess so."

Walking to her sixth period before twelve o'clock felt weird. Since it was minimum day, the school gets out at one o'clock. As Quinn was turning the corner for her English class, she looked up and saw Sam hanging around the corner.

As she walked closer, he turned the corner and disappeared from her line of sight. But when it was her turn to make the turn around the corner, she saw Sam leaning into the doorway of her classroom. She passed through the doorway, avoiding his look.

"What was that about?" She asked herself quietly as she sat down, "Does he even know anyone in this class?" As an after thought, she added, "Well, there are a few short blondes in this class, so possibly."

She didn't see him after school. And she wouldn't see him Monday because there was no school. Yup, this weekend promised to be stress free.