Something Good Can Work

AN: So sorry for the long delay; I was a little stuck on inspiration. But I'm back, so no worries. Thanks once again for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites...I hope this next chapter is worth the wait. Also, Glee does not belong to me. Enjoy!

Sam picked up his phone, ignoring the last fifty (or so) messages from Quinn. Yeah, she was pretty, and yeah, she used to be the best thing in McKinley to him, but now – he had found her out for who she really was: a popularity whore with a penchant for ruining other people's lives to climb up the social ladder. And, even worse, she just couldn't seem to understand his...well, dorkiness.

Every time he would speak in Na'vi or do a Darth Vader expression, she would just roll her eyes and tell him to "stop acting so weird, Sam, you have a reputation to protect!" She never let him pick his favorite sci-fi movies on date nights – no, they had to watch some stupid chick flick. It was only now, looking back, that the blond boy realized that Quinn never really got him.

Rachel did.

Rachel Berry was something of an enigma. The first time he had greeted her with a cheerful "Kaltxi!" instead of scoffing and shushing him like Quinn always did, she simply grinned and asked him if that was Na'vi he was speaking. At his affirmation, she had admitted that she had only seen a little bit of the famed movie.

"You haven't seen all of Avatar? I can't believe it!"

"Samuel, calm down..."

"How can I calm down? Avatar is, like, the greatest movie in the history of great movies! How can you not have seen it?" The blond jock was practically spazzing out at this point. Rachel calmly laid a small hand on his arm, and he immediately froze and blushed. A faint tinge crept up the tiny singer's cheeks as well, but she ignored it. She did that soft-angel-smile thing at him, and damn it Sam, stop staring at her – you're probably creeping her out, idiot.

"Perhaps, we should see it together and you can explain the merits of the film? I understand that it won several Oscars for art direction and such..." Sam had been so caught up in his self-criticizing that he hadn't been paying attention up to this point. All his mind had caught was we should see it together. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out what his brain had secretly been screaming.

"You mean, like a date?"

Both of the singers stopped their movements and turned bright red. Rachel turned to him carefully and calmly, trying to keep any tears under control. To her, it had sounded like he was disgusted at the thought. Don't be stupid, Rachel. What could he see in you, after dating a girl like Quinn? It happened with Finn too...don't you ever learn?

"I was thinking it to be more like a friendly get together...I do have a wonderful at home viewing theatre, which was why I suggested you come. If the idea is uncomfortable to you, than never mind..." Sam hastily backtracked, getting tongue-tied and mangling his words.

"No, I – it – that's not, well you see, I meant – friends. Get together. Yes." By this time, the jock was so flustered and red, he resembled something of a sweaty tomato. Real smooth, Sam. And see? She doesn't even like you that way. There is no way I could compete with someone like Finn. Stupid.

Luckily, they were just pulling into the school parking lot, which gave them an excuse to not have to continue their awkward conversation any longer. Mumbling stuttered goodbye's at each other, the two Glee kids practically ran to their separate ways.

Now it was Saturday and Sam was trying to summon the courage to call Rachel about their not-date. He had nearly pressed "call" twenty times, before sighing and canceling the number. Each time, his brain had jeered at him, telling him he was a coward. And he was. A coward, that is. Finally, Sam steeled himself and determinedly pressed the green Call button before he could think twice about it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Rach, it's Sam." The boy in question fought to keep his voice steady. What was wrong with him? He had been so smooth around Quinn, but he couldn't even form a coherent sentence around this tiny brunette Diva. And it wasn't even a real date, for God's sake! Rachel's voice brought him back to the conversation at hand.

"Oh, hello, Sam. Is something wrong? Do you need something?"

"Yeah, actually – something is very wrong. There's this girl I know –" At the other end of the line, Rachel felt her heart drop in disappointment. Of course, he would call her about his girl problems. Sam probably saw her as one of the freaking guys.

" – and she's never seen Avatar before. Plus, she promised me that we could see it together, 'cause that chick definitely need an intervention. Do you think that I'd be able to come over to her house? Because I heard she has a pretty wicked in home viewing theatre, in her words." Rachel's heart shot straight back up and seemed to lift her right up off her feet. The brunette couldn't help letting out a tiny giggle.

"That sounds pretty serious. I say you get over to her house right now –" Sam couldn't help the lopsided, goofy grin that spread across his face. He probably looked like an idiot right now, but the jock could care less. " – and I bet that if you arrive this instant, you'd be just in time for dinner."

"Well, thanks for your help! I feel much better now." With that, Sam quickly promised to be there within the next three minutes, and flew downstairs. His mom peered around the kitchen door concernedly as Sam fumbled to brush his hair, button his shirt, and find his shoes simultaneously.

"Sam, honey? Where are you going?" Without pausing, the teenager called back an answer over his shoulder.

"Over to Rachel's house. Can you believe she's never seen Avatar?" Laura Evans quickly hid a smile behind her hands. She was a smart woman, and she could tell that Sam's "friendship" with the tiny singer was more than just that. She also sensed that the relationship the two had was vastly different than that of Sam's first girlfriend. Quinn, while polite enough, seemed rather introverted and awkward, and did not fit as well into the Evans household. The former cheerleader had looked on Sam as one would a toy or puppy – cute, but a bit stupid. She had yet to meet Rachel properly, though, and was determined to soon.

"Sam. I think you should think about bringing Rachel over here sometime...?" Laura prompted her son delicately. Suddenly, Sam flushed a bright tomato red. He fumbled around, looking indignantly at his mother.

"Mom! I told you, we're just friends. There's no need to freak out, okay?" The poor teenager was clearly 'freaking out' himself. Laura just smiled knowingly. She could see clearly that this girl was definitely something special for her son, and none of his bluffing could hide that.

"This Friday. Dinner at our house. She's Jewish, correct? I should start looking up kosher meals..." with that, the matriarch of the Evans family wandered off to the kitchen, musing. Sam sighed. There was no fighting his mother; it seemed that Rachel would be having dinner with the family this Friday. How did his mom do that? See right through him and his mask? At least she's not found out about...the other thing. Mom's food is good, but I can't afford to eat it. It's disgusting, the way the fat drips off my body. Sam was knocked out of his self-deprecating thoughts by the beep of his blond boy looked at it and freaked out all over again. He quickly tied his shoes, buttoned the last buttons, and raced out the door.

Five minutes later, an out-of-breath Sam Evans made his way to the Berrys' front door. He rang the doorbell and it opened almost immediately to the smiling face of Rachel Berry. She was dressed simply in pajama pants and a Wicked t-shirt. Sam liked this side of her: no hiding behind the animal sweaters (although they were admittedly cute) or tights...just Rachel. She tugged him into the Berry house.

"What took you? And why do you look so out of breath? Oh my God, are you okay? Are you having a fit? DO I NEED TO CALL 911?" Sam chuckled and shook his head. The need for drama and general overreacting – that was yet another of the funny little quirks that he loved about Rachel. Did I just say love? What I meant was liked. That's right, brain, liked. Because I like Rachel. As a friend. Seriously.

"Nah, my mom kinda held me back. She, uh...she wanted to know whether you wanted to come over for dinner. Next Friday. At my house. To eat. Dinner." Sam mentally kicked himself. Wow, dorkus. That was insanely smooth. Not. Instead of laughing at him or rolling her eyes, Rachel just smiled excitedly and nodded her consent.

"Of course, I would love to come over! Please tell your mother that I accept her kind invitation and that she can expect me on Friday. Now, about dinner...I know you enjoy my vegan salads, so I took the liberty of making some for you. I hope it's enough..." Sam followed her, grinning that dopey smile again. Only Rachel would remember about his strict diet. Okay, so maybe he had lied and said that he was also vegan, but Rachel didn't need to know about his...issues. Just another thing that makes me the wrong guy for her. She deserves someone perfect, not a fatty like me.

Dinner was a fun -if nerve racking- affair. Not because Sam felt uncomfortable around Rachel's family; no, it was just the difficulty of pretending to eat, while secretly throwing the the more "fatty" stuff into a nearby plant. He knew Rachel would freak if she knew, but he had an image to uphold, okay? He couldn't get any fatter than he already was.

Afterwards. The two sat on the couch, about to watch what Sam deemed to be "the most epic movie of all time." Rachel giggled at the slightly psychotic gleam in her friend's eye.

"Are you okay? You seem a little too excited about this to be considered normal." Sam turned to her in all seriousness.

"Well, maybe I'm just not normal, then." He waited carefully to see Rachel's reaction to the statement. Would she drop him like Quinn had? After a split-second, Rachel grinned at him, and the room seemingly got a few degrees brighter.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not normal either, isn't it?" The blond let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding.

Rachel Berry was just about freaking perfect.

AN: And so ends chapter three! This seemed like an appropriate place to end it, so I'm just gonna leave it at that. And on a side note: I know some eating disorders have been mentioned in this chapter. I just want to let everybody know that this will be elaborated on in the next (and future) chapters, so if it makes you uncomfortable, please stop reading. Thanks!