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"Sam — Sammy. I just… I don't even know what's happening…"
"What is it, babe?"
"Nothing — forget I said anything — did you see that weirdo number Tyler had on at glee today? Like, what the Hell was he thinking, right?"
Samantha Evans wrinkles her nose at this abrupt attempt to change the subject and shakes her head. "Wasn't paying attention to him, I guess," she lies, stirring her plastic straw through the banana-mango smoothie that's getting increasingly room-temperature and totally unappetizing.
Not like Sam thought it was before it started warming up but, then again, there's no reason Finn needs to know about that. Not after he pitched such a fit before the Rocky Horror shenanigans, getting worried about Sam's diet and how worried she was about matching Michelle Chang in the super-short-shorts Ms. Schuester insisted on sticking the Columbias in. Not when Finn's sitting opposite her at the food court table, shoulders sagging dispiritedly in his letterman jacket from the field hockey team, jaw set in the deep scowl Finn usually saves for either Chaviva Karofsky or math tests, poking at his pizza with a freaking fork.
Who the Hell even eats pizza with a fork, Sam wonders. Nobody sane — or at least, nobody who's in a good mood. She sighs, slurps some of her smoothie, and nods in all the appropriate places while Finn goes on about how Michelle and Tyler Cohen-Chang have been super-cute since they started dating this summer at Asian Camp (which is a thing in Ohio, apparently). But Finn thought Tyler really loved Annie Abrams, the girl with the glasses and the wheelchair (who's really cool, Sam agrees, since she's a white girl who can rap and, after Sam's first week in glee club, without even knowing her too well at all, she had Sam over for an all-night Halo party with Finn and Naomi Puckerman).
"And now Michelle is on about how she loves Tyler's artsiness, but wishes he'd get more interested in what she's into?" Finn goes on, finally talking in his usual animated way, now that they're onto making sure Sam's up-to-speed with the McKinley gossip and absolutely not discussing Serious Things That Are Serious. "Because 'Chelle knows Coach Sylvester's never gonna let her be head cheerleader, not when she's Chinese and I mean. Come on. She's got Quinn and her Sassy Gay Duo, and Quinn's like… Miss Teen America material, right? So 'Chelle's like, 'I've got nothing to look forward to in Cheerios, and Coach Beiste favors other girls on the field hockey team over me even though I really work hard at it, and it'd be nice if my boyfriend supported me,' y'know?"
A moment of awkward silence settles in and starts tickling at the back of Sam's neck, making it itch like crazy. And it takes Finn saying her name five times before she realizes: she's been staring at the Nutritional Information panel that's printed on the side of her cup. Stomach wriggling and squirming — oh, God, he's totally caught me and he knows I'm not okay live I've said, shit shit shit shit… maybe he hasn't, God, I hope he hasn't… — Sam looks back up at Finn. She gives him an enthusiastic nod, says she's fine, just a little lost in thought — "But, yeah, no… No, I totally know where Michelle's coming from — and, uh. You were saying, babe?"
Unfortunately, Finn does not take this as a hint to talk about what the Hell is his issue today. And all Sam can do is listen.
There's a blizzard raging outside, bad enough that Mister Roberts called Sam up and told her not to come to work down at the pizza place. Inside the mall, mobs of Christmas shoppers try to shove past each other and get to all the sales first, or into the line to see Santa Claus before it totally backs up, or onto the wait list for Ruby Tuesday's since the snow means they're not going anywhere. Even if they could get out of here, there's nothing Sam wants to go home to (bills, past due notices, Stevie and Stacey asking why Mom and Dad are upset all the time), and she has no idea if she can just show up at Finn's place again.
For one thing, Finn's mom and Mr. Hummel just got married a few weeks ago. They haven't even had their honeymoon yet, and Sam doesn't know, maybe there's some kind of rule about girlfriends coming over to dinner all the time when newlywed parents should be, like, in Hawaii or whatever?
For another thing, the last time Sam was over, Mrs. Hudson (or is it Hummel now?) totally noticed the way that she prefers to cut up her food and nudge it around the plate, only really eating some of it. And aside from being her boyfriend's mom, Carole is probably the nicest lady Sam's ever met — she's sweet, and she cares, and she listens, and she helped make the treats for the Second Annual New Directions Bake Sale — so she hates the way her mouth goes dry and her stomach tries to drop out her ass around Carole…
But maybe Carole knows what's up. Maybe she notices things others don't. Maybe she's going to believe Finn about Sam's so-called "eating disorder" and tell Sam's parents and try to make Sam get help that the Evanses can't afford. Even if Dad's healthcare benefits included mental health stuff (and they might, Sam's got no idea), she's looked this stuff up. It's expensive. It'd mean therapy, maybe even rehab (which would mean missing school, and work, and paychecks or tips, and times when she should babysit her kid siblings).
And Sam can't do it. She can't go through with any of that. Not when her family needs the money for clothes for the kids, for rent on their house, for milk and bread and the most basic things.
Then, there's Kit Hummel, Finn's stepsister and their fellow glee clubber. It's no secret that she had a crush on Finn before, back before he started going by his name, when he was still Fionna and dating Ross Berry, because Finn thought he was a girl and had to date other boys. That maybe the old crush is still kind of lurking under the surface, even though Kit's the one who got him all the books and Internet print-outs about what "transgender" means, even though she's the one who got Finn fitted for his first binder.
That, even though Kit swears to God she's lost all interest ("And even if I weren't a friend of Ellen, there's no way I'd try to get into a relationship with you right now — you're in a sensitive place right now, I'd be forcing it, it'd just be skeevy all around… and I care more about being your friend and your sister than I care about getting to be with you"), maybe she's lying and she still wants Something More from Finn.
And to top it all off, Finn's acting weird — weirder than usual, by Sam's standards, anyway.
Since she's moved to Lima, Sam's come to accept that there's a different measuring stick for 'normal' here — for hilarious (like how Ross can just storm out of glee club practice and the only thing everyone notices is that Sam notices), and for horrible (like hulking Chaviva Karofsky and how she won't stop terrorizing Kit, to the point that Kit wants to transfer but won't do that to New Directions). But not even the ridiculous pamphlets in Mr. Pillsbury's office (or the pile of them that got shoved into Sam's locker, every single one a copy of Help, I Think I Kissed My Cousin!) can compare to Finn on the weirdness scale right now.
"Babe, can we just drop the stupid gossip already?" Sam interjects, smacking a palm against the table and cutting off wherever the Epic Romantic Tragedy Of Their Fellow Glee Clubbers has wound up. "Y'know… I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm totally interested in how Brett and Sebastian are, like, gayer than Freddy Mercury—"
"Wasn't he bi, though?" Finn furrows his brow and tilts his head to one side until it's almost at his shoulder, like thinking too hard makes it weigh a million pounds.
Sam huffs and scoots a little further off her bench, just so she can lean closer to her boy, more comfortably wrap his small, calloused hand up in hers. "I don't care," she says and looks him dead square in the eyes… until he drops his gaze down to his half-eaten slice and its puddle of grease. "Finn? …Finny Bear? Tell me what's up with you, okay… please?"
Finn shakes his head. "There's nothing up with me, Sammy—"
"There is, though! You were going to tell me about it, and then you just stopped and started this, like… Wendy Williams and Joel McHale chat session and, like, I care about everyone else in glee — I do, you know I do." Sam sighs — she's babbling like an idiot and tightening her grip on Finn's hand doesn't do anything to calm her nerves. "Just… I care about what's going on in that… big, cute brain of yours more than, like… Brett Stephen Pierce and his Topless Tuesdays idea and his big, gay affair with Closet Case Lopez."
"I just… what if… I mean, you only left Crawford County Day because you were kissing the other girls right?!"
Someone at another table drops their tray with a clatter, and, in unison, Sam and Finn both perk up, jerk their hands away from each other. A shock jolts up Sam's spine — one Finn's got to be feeling too, after totally losing his concept of an inside voice — and she looks around them, turning her head so fast that she can't even see. Not really. She just has to know — she has to be sure that no one's watching them. This is Ohio. It's bad enough that Finn's right and Sam's kissed other girls before; it's bad enough that, as far as jerks like Karofsky care, Finn's still "Fionna," still a girl, just trying to be something he's not and, in the process of living how he feels comfortable, turning into some kind of threat against everything ever.
A rumored lesbian dating a trans* guy could get them both killed — but as she settles back into her seat, wraps her hand around Finn's again, Sam gets to have a sigh of relief. And she nods. Tells him that yeah, she left Crawford County so she wouldn't get outed like her "best friend" had threatened to do — "But what's that got to do with us, babe?" she says, leaning closer to Finn so she can keep her voice low. "Finny, I don't care if you're not a girl — I mean, that sounded wrong? 'Cuz I do care about it. But I care about it in the way where, like, I just want you to be happy and get a good doctor, if you want to go on hormones and stuff…"
"But you like girls, right?" Finn whispers, still managing to find a way to get a whiny note into his voice. "I mean, you like girls, and I'm not a girl, and you're, like… Sam, you're cooler than like anyone I've ever met, right? Especially when you do your dorky impressions and stuff, or like — like that victory dance you did when you fragged Puck at Annie's Halo night… and if you really like girls, I just… what if it's like Kit said, y'know? I don't wanna be keeping you from something you'd rather have just because I'm not a girl—"
They're more than close enough for it, and Sam cuts Finn's rambling off with a kiss. Just presses her lips into his, barely firm enough to shut him up, then licks at his chapped lips, his teeth that still kind of taste like his pizza. They stay together long enough for Sam to suck on Finn's tongue, and she pulls back when he whines again (but not without a parting nibble on his lower lip).
"Finn," she sighs, squeezing on his hand again. Although she's not said them to him before, the next three words fall off her tongue so easily, so naturally: "I love you. I'd love you even if you were a freaking Time Lord or Na'vi instead of a girl or a boy, okay? I mean, it's everyone else who says I'm a lesbian, right? Not me?" He's closed his eyes, dropped his chin, and even as she nuzzles at his cheek, knocks her forehead against his, Sam's heart sinks in her chest. Shit, what if I'm fucking this up?
"Look… I know I'm not that smart but you know what else I know? I love you, Finn Hudson, and I don't care what Kit and Sebastian got everyone thinking about me. Because you're the boy I want to be with, and I'll have to get put in the ER defending your honor before I even think about stopping. Just be you and I'll be the happiest girl in the world."
Finn laughs at that, just a little bit, and his voice is barely above a whisper as he says, "I love you too, Blondie Big Lips." And as he worms his hand out of Sam's, laces their fingers together instead, the smallest hint of a smile tugs at Finn's lips — which Sam takes as indication enough that it's time to kiss her boyfriend again.