Author Notes: So a few days ago my sister showed me a list of 100 one-word prompts she was writing for Niff. After taking a look at it, I figured the list was perfect for a Blam storyline, and this is the beginning of the end results. Also because I miss Sam a lot more than I thought I would. Just to clarify, I do not own the list of prompts, I have no idea where they came from. Props go to my sister for finding it and making me read it. This is the beginning of what will hopefully be 100 little Blam drabbles; I'm going to try my best to make them a cohesive story, but beware of random fluff and angst and vaguely possible awkward stumbling smut throughout the course of it. Thanks for reading!

I. Introduction

Blaine hurried through the halls with his head down, hugging his binders to his chest in a desperate attempt to protect them. He stared down at his feet, one in front of the other, breath in and out, tile by tile, only two more turns until the safety of his Film Studies classroom, come on come on come on…

Only one turn left when someone shoved him into the wall and another someone knocked the books out of his shaking arms. It was a lightning-fast event, almost silent save for the loud thud and the few snickers the larger boys gave before running past Blain to link arms with a pair of girls waiting farther down the hallway.

He stayed where he was on the floor for a minute, leaning against the cold concrete blocks of the wall, allowing himself to regain composure. He didn't squeeze his eyes shut, he didn't cry like he used to, he only breathed. In and out, chest up and down. Heart beating. He gazed at his things lying open on the floor; the rings of his biology binder had snapped open with the impact and strewn its contents a quarter down the hallway, eliciting an exasperated groan from Blaine's throat.

"Hey, are you okay?"

It took a second for Blaine to realize the tone of the voice—not derisive, not mocking, but genuinely concerned. He stared at the sneakers in front of him, then slowly raised his eyes to meet the owner's.

He was greeted with a large albeit nervous smile, crinkled light hazel eyes with lightish brown bangs sweeping into them. The boy reached up to anxiously rub at the back of his neck before holding out his other hand to Blaine.

It had been a long while since Blaine had been left breathless by anything, but now he found it hard to keep his lungs working.

"Y-yeah," he choked out, taking the boy's hand and allowing him to haul him to his feet. "I'm fine. Used to it." And Blaine averted his eyes to scan the floor for his biology notes.

"I'm Sam Evans." And the boy took a neat pile of papers from where they were clamped under his arm, holding them out to Blaine. "I'm new here."

He took them with shaking hands, still trying to slow his heart rate. "Blaine Anderson. I'm…not new here." A nervous little laugh. "But it's nice to meet you. I'll show you around sometime?"

He quickly collected the rest of his books and spun on his heel before he could say anything stupider, once again hurrying down the now-empty hallway.

"Wait." Sam's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Sorry…can you show me where the Film Studies room is?"

Blaine suppressed a smile as he turned back towards Sam Evans. "Yeah," he said, more confidently than he actually felt. "Yeah, I think I can do that."