AN: This is sort of a crazy idea that's been floating in my head. If you haven't seen the movie Sliding Doors, I definitely recommend it. The basic plot of the movie is a woman's love life and career both hinge, unknown to her, on whether or not she catches a train. In the movie, we see it both ways, in parallel. We'll see how this version works out...

"I really don't want to go, Mom." Especially this early, I rolled my eyes, looking up at the gigantic high school through the tinted window of my mom's late model BMW.

"You'll be fine." She put her hand on mine softly. I finally looked over at her. She was smiling softly and I could tell she wanted this to work out. My mother had never been happy with the big city life of Chicago, so last May, my father agreed to take a job in Lima, Ohio; exactly 4 and a half hours from the only life I've ever known.

I nodded for her and swallowed my fears. It's only high school, I thought. Only the first day of tenth grade and I don't know a soul. I pushed open the car door and leaned over to give my mom a soft kiss. Let her know I loved her despite everything. I turned to leave, but she called me, "Tina?" I turned back and raised my eyebrows. "Your bag."

I followed her gaze to the back seat where I'd thrown my unusually light book bag. I leaned over the seat and grabbed it. "Thanks, Mom." I smiled and stepped out of the car, puling down my mini skirt self-consciously. I knew Mom and Dad didn't exactly approve of my new wardrobe or the blue streaks in my hair, but I didn't exactly approve of the big move. So we were even.

Back in Chicago, I had my small niche of friends, despite my fake stutter. My friends had seen right through that one, but they'd let me be. Now I sort of just wanted people to leave me alone. Maybe the safety pins, fishnet gloves and spare keys on chains would finally do the trick. Back in Lincoln Park High School, people knew I was smart and artistic and they saw the good in me. I didn't want anyone at McKinley to see me at all. Maybe I could just glide until graduation, be invisible for the next three years.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my bag and headed for the front steps of the large school. The few kids that were lurking around the school this early gave me strange looks, but I just ignored them. I climbed the steps slowly and felt eyes on me. Sure enough, there was a tall boy with a mohawk, smoking a cigarette on the landing outside the double doors of the school. He was sitting in a wheelchair that looked too small for him, not that I knew much about those kinds of things. He eyed me and smiled as I approached. "Hey babe." His voice was low, telling me he liked what he saw.

I ignored him, staring at that wheelchair. There was something off, but I couldn't quite place what was going on. "Hey, what's your name?" He asked. Finally, I looked up and found his green eyes boring into my soul.

"T-T-Tina," I stuttered, hoping he'd leave me alone.

Instead, his mouth curved into a lopsided smile. "What? You get off on this shit?" He gestured down at the wheelchair.

"Oh no," I muttered, backing away, my stomach sinking.

"It's OK," he laughed and flicked the cigarette dangerously close to my new boots. He launched himself out of the wheelchair and stomped out the smoking object. "Name's Puck. Neither do I."

He started walking away from the chair, laughing to himself. I couldn't help it; I asked, "Hey, wait, wh-what about the kid who's wheelchair this is?"

Puck turned on his heel, studying me. "He'll be alright. I'm worried more about you."

I shook my head, backing away from him. Without thinking, I grabbed the handles of the empty wheelchair and pushed it right past him into the school. I could hear his rough laugh fade as I sprinted away, but it didn't matter what he thought of me anymore.

I nearly bumped into an almost freakishly tall teenager as I swept through the double doors of the school. He gave me a look, but continued outside.

As I wandered through these unfamiliar halls, pushing an empty wheelchair, I got some strange looks. A big black girl stared at me and turned to her well dressed male friend and muttered something like, "Wheels got a girlfriend?" She chuckled and shook her head. A gaggle of cheerleaders giggled at me, but I just walked on by.

I kept going down random hallways, not really knowing what I was looking for. What was I looking for? My stomach shook slightly... A boy who couldn't walk... Finally, a well dressed young man noticed me and broke away from the gym teacher he'd been talking to. He approached me carefully, with too many questions in his eyes. "Are you new here?" He looked down at the empty wheelchair.

"Yeah. T-Tina Cohen-Chang."

"Mr. Schuster, Spanish teacher," he smiled a little. "You're looking for Artie?"

I followed his gaze back to the wheelchair. "I s-s-suppose so."

Mr. Schuster shook his head sadly. "He's probably in the gym again. That's just down the hall to the left. You can't miss it."

I nodded my thanks and took off again, this time with some purpose. I followed his directions and entered the deserted gym. I glazed around the seemingly empty room, but soon enough, I spotted the overturned trash can, overflowing with bottles, paper and other garbage. Sitting next to the trash can was a boy, dressed up in a sweater vest and crisp white shirt. He was sitting with one hand propped up behind him, while the other tried to pick flakes of paper from his hair. He must have heard my shoes squeaking on the polished floor because he looked up, his blue eyes sad behind thick plastic glasses. He muttered a quick "thanks" when he saw the wheelchair, but made no attempt to move.

After a long moment of silence, he said, "you can go now."

Much to his surprise, and my own, I lowered myself onto the floor next to him. "Wh-what grade are you in?" I asked shyly.

"You don't have to do this." He looked down at his large yellow bike gloves and played with them a bit. Slowly, his gaze rose and as he studied me, his defensive gaze softened a little.

We sat there, unsure of what to say for a long moment. I slowly realized I was hearing a tinny strain of familiar music coming from somewhere near by. I looked curiously up at his wheelchair and the backpack that was hanging off of it. There were a pair of ipod earphones dangling out of the bag and I crept closer to it with a smile. "The Beatles."

He leaned over a bit, the best he could. Our faces were inches apart. He smiled when he recognized the song. "Very good. Not one of their most well known songs."

I actually laughed a little. "Are you k-kidding?

We would sing and dance around

because we know we can't be found

I'd like to be under the sea

In an octopus' garden in the shade

I love this song."

Now he was smiling along with me. "And she can sing too? Very impressive."

Suddenly, there were butterflies in my stomach and nothing else mattered but me and him. "Th-thanks," I said, sure my cheeks were flushing red.

"Hey," he said brightly, "do you-" A sharp bell cut him off. He glanced at his watch. "Oh man, we're gonna be late." He scooted over to the wheelchair and kind of threw himself up into the seat. He quickly tucked his long legs crookedly onto the foot rest and took off with a swift push of his wheels.

"Artie?" I called after him tentatively. He actually looked back, a little confused how I knew his name. "I'm Tina." I smiled softly. I knew this could be the start of a beautiful friendship and maybe, I dared myself to hope, maybe more.

But no one ever said I was a good person. After Puck put out his cigarette and started walking away from the wheelchair, an almost freakishly tall teenager walked out of the double doors of the school. He looked at me, clearly confused. "Who's the new chick?"

Puck gave the jock a mischievous smile that reached his beautiful eyes. "She's with me." He reached his arm around me. Part of me wanted to break away from this creep and do the right thing. Puck didn't even know me and was obviously interested in only one thing, but my heart had already been through enough lately. I knew there was a big part of me that didn't want to be invisible for the next three years. I wanted the attention this guy could give me, no matter how low that was.

So when the tall jock asked Puck blankly, "What about Santana?"

I answered, "Santana who?" with a laugh.

Puck just laughed back and said, "Exactly. This is Tina." I just nodded and smiled shyly, for once surrounded by two good looking guys. The part of me that just wanted attention was the worst part and I let it win, almost forgetting about the wheelchair we'd abandoned on the landing.