You Drive Me Crazy || Sam Evans

79. All or Nothing

"All right, guys. It's finally here. Regionals." Mr. Schue clapped his hands together, barely containing his excitement.

"Yeah! Whoo!" The glee club erupted, cheering and clapping.

"I just found out that, due to safety concerns related to late-season tornadoes, Indianapolis has declined to host the competition. So—" He paused for effect. "As defending champions, we're having Regionals right here. In our auditorium."

"Home court advantage, yo!" Artie pumped his fist.

"Now, because of a sexting scandal at Our Lady of Perpetual Loneliness, their glee club—the Nun-Touchables—has been excommunicated by the new pope. They've been replaced by the world-famous boys of Ziegler Prep, the Waffle Toots."

Melanie frowned, tilting her head. "That cannot be their actual name," she muttered.

"Like cake farts?" Artie asked.

"They're very good," Blaine added, lips pursed seriously.

"The Hoosierdaddies are still the odds-on favorite," Mr. Schue continued.

"Seriously, who's coming up with these names?" Melanie muttered under her breath, making Sam chuckle beside her.

"I mean, their lead vocalist, Frida Romero, is a tiny juggernaut of talent. We are in for the fight of our lives." Mr. Schue took a seat in front of them, his tone shifting. "So... let's get real."

He looked around the room, letting the moment settle.

"There comes a point in every performer's life that defines him or her—sometimes for the rest of their career. This is our moment. We've struggled, we've endured, and now, we must triumph."

He softened. "And before we get started, let's send some positive energy to one of our own. Rachel has her final callback for Funny Girl today. Let's give her a big round of applause—wherever she is."

The room filled with applause just as the bell rang.

Melanie slung her bag over her shoulder, falling into step beside Sam and Blaine as they headed into the hallway.

"Does it make me a horrible person for kind of hating Rachel for achieving all her hopes and dreams?" Melanie mused.

Blaine squinted thoughtfully. "Yeah. A little bit."

She smiled, rolling her eyes, as Sam draped an arm around her shoulders.

"I am happy for her. Really," Melanie continued. "But it's just... weird. Mercedes got a record deal. Rachel's gonna get her dream Broadway role. And we're still here—going to class, pep rallies, the same old stuff. It's like nothing's changed here, but out there–in the real world? Everything's moving at lightning speed." She exhaled. "Kind of makes me scared we'll be in it next year."

"Well, yeah, but it's also kinda exciting, right?" Blaine countered. "I mean, there's so much waiting for us out there—our entire future, our dreams, our careers, marriage..."

"And we're back to this again," Sam muttered.

"You can only do this once, so it-it has to be perfect," Blaine continued, clearly shifting gears. "It has to be, you know, special."

"Are you actually talking about a marriage proposal?" Sam stopped short, turning toward him. "Dude, we're in high school. You're not ready to get married, and I'm not letting you."

"I'm not asking your permission," Blaine shot back. "I'm asking for your help. As my best friend. And besides—you and Melanie got married at Christmas."

"Fake married," Melanie reminded him.

"Exactly—it was fake," Sam added. "And besides, it's different. Melanie and I are still together and have been for over a year. I mean, do I need to remind you that just a few weeks ago, you were totally confused? You didn't even know where Kurt stood with this Adam guy."