Dear Gaga.

I'm so bad. Haven't updated anything in months.

Oh well...

Anyway. I wasn't gonna publish this until I had all the chapters finished, because, y'know, I'm a terrible procastinator.

But I got antsy...so...here it is.

Inspired by - Cooler Than You - Mike Posner

Sam Evans.

That's what the tall blonde in the front of Mr. Schuester's second period Spanish class introduced himself as. Kurt lowered his Gucci sunglasses and started evaluating the transfer student.

His eyebrow arched as his eyes flicked up and down the new boy's body, taking everything in. His posture was relaxed, with a backpack carelessly slung over his shoulder, a lazy smile plastered on his face.

Typical jock stature, Kurt thought with disdain.

Just another Neanderthal just to add to this cow town. Just what I need.

His hair was insanely blond, bringing out the gold flecks in his brown eyes. The blonde was definitely from a box, or even worse, some home remedy. Kurt shuddered at the thought, taking note of the tiny split ends and dirty blonde roots. That and the fact that no one was that blonde. All the same, Kurt took in his tan and muscular build, his eyes raking over the tall jock.

He wasn't bad looking. At all.

But, just like every other male in this Podunk town, his fashion sense left so much to be desired. He was wearing a plain gray T-Shirt. A T-Shirt! With wrinkles! And it was probably made out of extremely cheap cotton. And to top it all off, he was wearing some ridiculous letterman jacket from his old school. Blue and gold were their school colors. Blue. And. Gold. The countertenor felt like vomiting on his textbook.

He managed to keep down the contents of his breakfast and turned his attention to the rest of the details.

He was tall. Not as freakishly tall as Finn, of course, but plenty tall compared to average standards. And even though Kurt hated to admit it, he had huge lips. Full and voluptuous, pouty even. It looked so strange on the jock, so out of place, Kurt would've chuckled darkly to himself if it wasn't for the intense gaze he was currently under.

The gazer being the one and only Sam Evans.

Out of the twenty-five people in the Spanish class, the busty Cheerios and scantily dressed whores, Sam had to focus his attention on a certain flamboyant teen.

Under normal circumstances, the person would squirm under the unwanted attention, maybe try to get the person to focus on another subject.

But then again, Kurt Hummel never strode for normal.

The fashionista pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and crossed his arms, cocking an eyebrow, moving his head a bit; a gesture he had picked up from Santana.

Sam quirked an eyebrow, a bemused expression crossing his face.

Kurt's eyebrows would've flown straight up to his hairline if it wasn't the cocky expression he was so desperately trying to keep on his face.

And you would've thought he would have made a threat by now.

The threats, Kurt decided, and possible slushie, would be passed out after class, in the hall, most likely. Might as well do something productive in class instead of staring at his future tormentor.

Kurt broke his pose and looked down at his book, finishing up a few problems and pretending as if Sam Evans didn't even exist.

Kurt busied himself with the verb worksheet as Mr. Schuester instructed Sam to go find a seat. You could almost hear the excitement from the girls, sitting up straighter in their seats, fixing their hair and staring lustfully at the tall blonde. Kurt rolled his eyes.

Pathetic.

Kurt doodled aimlessly on his paper, half waiting for one of the girls to hit the floor in a faint, but instead was greeted by the sound of a chair being pulled back from the desk next to him.

Kurt dared to look over to his left, his eyes widening. Sam plopped down in the chair, scooting back in and throwing Kurt a huge smile.

"Hey."

The countertenor drew in a sharp breath and composed himself, giving the taller blonde a bored look.

Two can play at that game.

"Hello, Sam." He replied, sarcasm dripping his words. "Pleasure to have you at McKinley. I'm sure we'll get to know each other very well through my daily dumpster dives and slushie facials, so you can skip the warm and fuzzy introductions and actually try to pass this class." He eyes him up and down, ignoring the insanely confused look on Sam's face. "By the looks of it, you're just like the rest of the Nandethreals in this town, so you'll need all the help you can get. Might as well try and access some sort of intelligence in that pea brain of yours. Have a nice day." He finished curtly, biting back a smirk as Sam furrowed his eyebrows next to him, trying to figure out what the heck just happened.

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Kurt quickly put an index finger up to his lips and pointed to Mr. Schuester, mouthing slowly, as if speaking to a child. Pay attention.

He caught Sam looking around the room, looking more confused than when Finn figured out he had to separate the laundry before putting it in the washing machine. He allowed himself to smirk cockily while Sam's back was turned.

Guess I win this one, Evans.

Some people just needed to be shown who was going to be on top.

A shrill bell cut through Mr. Schuester's Spanish lesson on correct sentence structure, and Kurt wasted no time darting out of the classroom.

Unfortunately, Sam was quick, too.

"Hey…dude." Sam came up from behind Kurt, walking beside him, easily keeping up with Kurt's brisk pace.

"Do not call me dude." Kurt snapped, his eyes never leaving the end of the hall. "And at least take some time to learn my name. You know what? Better yet? Stop trying to talk to me. There will be plenty of that after school. I'm sure Karofsky has you slotted for my 3:15 dumpster dive."

Sam almost stopped walking, dumbfounded by the ice in the smaller teen's words. He was a sarcastic one. A quick thinker.

"What? Du-I mean, what are you talking about?" The blonde stood behind Kurt as he twirled his lock, opening his locker and grabbing some hairspray.

"Don't play stupid, Evans. Now run along. You don't want to catch the gay." He pouted his lips at his reflection in his locker mirror and sprayed the hairspray generously over his perfect hair, 'accidentally' spraying Sam in the process.

Sam coughed, waving his hand in front of his face. "W-What are you talking about? I just wanted t-to introduce myself." Sam tried to explain between coughs.

Kurt slammed the locker closed, spinning on his heel and looking Sam in the eyes, his lips pressed together.

"Fine. You have 38 seconds to talk." The countertenor said defiantly.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but quickly spoke. "Okay, I'm Sam Evans, I'm uh, from New York, I play football, and I um…play guitar. And kind of sing. And I just thought I'd say hi. Because…I'm new…and stuff…" He trailed off, trying to think of more things to say.

"Time's up." Kurt said, referring to his iPhone. "That was thrilling. Singing, eh? Too bad you're too much of a chicken to join glee club." He quirked an eyebrow, looking him over again.

"Glee club? What…? Wait!" Sam followed Kurt as he sauntered down the hall. "I never caught your name!"

Kurt threw a prissy look behind his shoulder at the tall teen. "Just ask Karosfky about the fairy. They'll have plenty to say about me."

And just like that, Kurt Hummel was gone, leaving a very confused and awed Sam Evans in his wake.

Ice Queen!Kurt is insanely fun to write. But anyway.

Questions, comments, concerns, advice, critique? It all helps me be the best writer I can be.

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