A/N: Story Title and Chapter title from Paramore's "Let the Flames Begin". "You're the one that I want" is from the movie/musical Grease. Enjoy :)
If I hadn't convinced my parents that Artie was completely paralyzed from the waist down, I would have never been able to spend nights at his house. Ever. As I walked up the path that lead to the Abram's household, I remembered the whole conversation. My aunt from New York was staying with us that weekend. The very first thing she said when I described Artie's condition to the family was, "Well that's kind of pointless." The face on my father was priceless. He got it, mom didn't. I snickered to myself remembering such an event. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.
"Come on in, darling." Mrs. Abrams said opening the front door. I've honestly never seen the woman without an apron on or a spatula in hand. From home, she ran a small catering service that was slowly growing into a full time commitment.
"Artie's in his room, I think." She said retreating back into her kitchen.
"If he didn't need help getting out the front door, I swear I'd loose track of him with all these orders." She laughed.
"Well what ever you're making now…it smells delicious." I complimented.
"Thank you, dear." Mrs. Abrams said over her shoulder while washing a mixing spoon.
Though I loved talking to Artie's mother, somehow I knew he'd enjoy my presence more. I continued though the kitchen, and wondered down the hallway where the two bedrooms and one bathroom were. I heard music coming from the last door on the right, typical Artie Abrams. The door was open a crack, and I peered in. With his back was towards me, and an acoustic guitar in his lap, he was singing softly to himself.
"…And you could be my punk rock princess, and I would be your garage band king. You can tell me how you just don't fit in, and how you're going to be something…"
I brought my hand up to my mouth and giggled softly into it. I definitely wasn't spying on Artie; I was just watching him do the thing he loved the most…without him knowing. The temptation to march into the room and start singing along with him was quite high, but I'd probably embarrass him. Instead I knocked on the door frame.
"Artie?" I asked sticking my head though the door.
Once he heard my voice, he pressed his right hand against the strings to stop the vibration. "Hey Tina," he said looking at me over his shoulder. With one motion of his left arm, he placed the guitar in its proper place. I then watched him spin himself around to face me.
"I see you visited my mother on your way in." He laughed.
I looked down at my black T-shirt that had specks of white flour on the front. Honestly, I came nowhere near her ingredients. I smiled at my misfortune and brushed myself off until there was only a shadow of white left. I then returned my attention back at Artie who was obviously amused. Pretending to be offended, I crossed my arms across my chest and humphed. In reaction, he playfully nudged my shins with his chair. My flat smile quickly curved and I swung my arms down from my chest.
"Hang on." He said backing up and then making his way around me.
I turned my body in the direction he was going and watched what he was doing. Artie parallel parked his chair next to the bed and pushed himself to the edge of the seat using his arms. With one swift motion, he transferred his body on top of the twin-sized bed. Though I've seen him transfer from surface to surface numerous times, it always kind of fascinated me how he did it with such ease. After adjusting himself, he patted the spot next to him once, inviting me over.
"I like it better like this." He said as I sat down next to him.
"On…a bed?" I asked, confused.
"No." He laughed.
"Being on the same level…no wheelchair involved." He said with his head turned towards me.
"Oh Artie." I say gently nudging his shoulder with mine.
Against his mother's wishes, because she was perfectly willing to cook for us, Artie and I ordered a pizza from the local Sub Shop. By then, I had no clue what time it was. All I knew that it was dark and my stomach wanted food. With the greasy pizza box in the middle of the room, I sat cross-legged on the floor while Artie had himself placed in front of me. The local radio station played in the background as we munched.
"Ah, this song brings back memories." Artie smiled reaching over the armrest of his chair to turn off the volume.
"Oh yes. If I recall correctly, Rachel tried to push you off the stage." I smirked.
Cause the power you're supplyin', it's electrifyin'.
Artie reached his hand down to my level and raised an eyebrow. I looked up at him as smiled wildly as I wiped my hands on my pants. Taking his hand for support, I lifted myself off the ground with a hop. Without even a wink of self-consciousness, I sang along with the words that I knew by heart.
The one that I want (you are the one I want), ooh ooh ooh, honey. The one I need (the one I need), oh yes indeed (yes indeed).
Artie walked me in a circle around him as he held on to my hand. Once I was on the other side of him, I placed myself in his lap with my legs crossed over the armrest. By the time the bass part started again, I had both arms around his neck.
"Tina, Artie…for the love of god go to bed." His mother yelled banging on the wall though the living room. We both forgot that it was a school night. Like before, he reached out to the radio, but this time turned the volume way down.
"Sorry mom." He yelled back, giggling aside at me. We both listened until she went back to her kitchen before saying another word.
"I suppose I should get off your lap anyways."
"I'm probably hurting you." I said starting to get up. He quickly stopped me.
"Really, Tina?" He asked trying to hold back laughter.
"What?" I asked completely clueless. Artie shook his head and emphasized the gloves on his hands.
"Oh!" I said, smacking my forehead with my palm, feeling ridiculously dumb.
"Maybe sleep is a good idea."
Artie laughed and finally let me off his lap. I did a quick change in the bathroom across the hall. That night, I brought my favorite flannel pants that had headphones and hearts on a baby blue background. When I emerged back into Artie's room, he was sitting atop the bed with his chair adjacent to it.
"You can sleep up here if you want, this time. The floor's no bother to me." Artie said scooting to the edge of the bed.
"Oh no you don't, mister." I said stopping him.
"You stay put. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" He asked.
"Fine." I emphasized reaching for my backpack. Slowly, I unpacked my cranberry sleeping back and laid it out on the floor next to Artie's bed. By the time I was done making my sleeping area, Artie had his plaid comforter over his lap and was leaned up against the headboard.
"If you need anything just…" Artie started.
"Let you know." I said, finishing his sentence.
"Goodnight, Tee." He laughed, laying himself down.
"Goodnight." I smiled, settling in.
Artie pulled the plug on his table lamp; it was much easier then to reach then the actual switch. That was the first time he had ever called me something other then Tina. Before I could think too deep about my new nickname, my eyes closed, and I drifted to sleep.
When I heard a loud beeping in my ears, my eyes shot open to see that it was still dark outside. Pushing black and blue hair out of my face, I sat up and glanced at Artie's alarm clock. It was Three o'clock in the morning. I sat on the floor confused, until I listened more carefully. The beeping was coming from outside of Artie's room. Curiosity got ahead of me. I stood up and walked to the door, trying not to wake up Artie. The second I opened the door I smelt something funny. I continued though the house until I reached the kitchen. A haze of black covered the room. Mrs. Abrams stood in the middle of it all with an ovenmit over her mouth and nose.
"What's going on?" I squeaked.
"Tina." She coughed.
"Wake up Artie…get him out of here."
I surveyed the scene briefly. That's when I saw neon colored fames that covered most of the counter tops and that traveled along the floor. Before I knew it I was running back to Artie's room, almost slipping on the hardwood floor.
"Artie!" I yelled bursting though the door and forcing on the lights. He started to sir awake. I slid down on my knees next to the bed and got right in his face.
"Artie Abrams, wake up!" I screeched.
"Tina…what's your problem?" He mumbled starting to open his eyes.
"We have to get out of the house. NOW." I said.
"Tina, what's going on? It looks like you just saw a ghost." Artie said with concern, sitting up.
"Th-there's a fire…in the kitchen." I stuttered, pulling his chair over.
"What? Are you serious?" He asked.
"Artie!" I said, cracking my voice.
"Okay, okay." He said dragging his legs to the side.
I impatiently waited as he transferred from bed to chair. If he took any longer, I would have just carried him out myself. Quickly, I got behind his chair and sped down the hallways until we came to the kitchen. The whole room was engulfed in flames and the smoke hurt my eyes.
"Oh my god." I panicked, putting my hands over my mouth.
"Tina, this is no time to have an anxiety attack." He said grabbing my hand and bringing me to the front of him. "Lead the way, I'll follow you."
I looked back at him, and covered my mouth and nose with my right hand to prevent the smoke from going down my throat. Leaving the front door open for Artie, I ran outside down the concrete path where Mrs. Abrams met me in the middle.
"Are you okay?" She asked placing her hand on my shoulder.
"I think so." I panted.
"Tina?" She said in panic, looking over my shoulder.
"Where's Artie?"