AN: My first glee fic! I fell in love with Artie's character after Wheels, so I guess this is the result.
"Artie?" As Mrs. Abrams made her way down the dim corridor, she tightened the loop of her bathrobe nervously. "Artie?" She pushed open her son's door, saw the dim within and some strange fear hitting her in the gut. "It's time to get up."
"Oh, hey mom," her son said brightly, turning from the glow of his macbook. "I was just trying to finish this song."
She laughed, slowly calming down. "How long have you been up?"
He shrugged, snapping his suspenders on his shoulders nervously. "It's something I wanna show the band," he avoided the question, but his mother saw right through him.
"You ready to go back to school?"
"Do I have a choice?" He laughed lightly, turning back to the computer briefly before closing it and rolling towards the door. "Come on, let's go eat breakfast."
Mrs. Abrams smiled at her son before taking off down the hall. "I've got to go wake up Mackenzie. I'll be down in a minute."
Artie shook his head, making his way towards the kitchen. "Hey dad," he smiled as he entered the kitchen. "Could I take the Accord to school today?"
"No way." Mr. Abrams looked up, laughing. "Maybe when you turn 18."
"But I'll be in college in New York by than. I won't need a car."
"Exactly." Artie's father set his face for a moment, than burst out laughing. "If we go down to Indian Lake next weekend, maybe I'll let you drive a bit."
"I hate Indian Lake." Artie scrunched up his nose, imagining all the jocks and cheerios making out in their Mustangs along the lake shore.
"So you don't have to go," Mr. Abrams laughed loudly, picking up his morning paper.
Mackenzie and Mrs. Abrams came in kitchen, arguing about the girl's book bag. "But mom, I don't want to use this old bag again. I mean, I can't show up to middle school with this bag."
"I've used my book bag since 5th grade," Artie offered. Mackenzie just shot him a look, clearly he was not helping her case.
"Yeah, but it doesn't matter for you." And the warning glare that Mrs. Abrams shot her almost burned a hole in her. "Mom, I just meant that he's a guy. No one cares that he doesn't have a Kipling bag."
"What's Kipling?" Artie looked up from his cereal, laughing.
Mackenzie shook her head, her curly brown hair. "See? I told you."
"Maybe for your birthday. Come on, We've got to get going." Mrs. Abrams weaved through the kitchen, wiping up her kids' lunches.
Artie and Mackenzie raced through breakfast obligingly. Finally, Mr. Abrams gathered up his paper and stood up. "OK, who's ready for school?"
""Not me." Artie shot back.
"Me either." Mackenzie put in.
"Well, it's now or never." Mr. Abrams automatically gathered up their lunches from the counter and handed them out to the kids.
They marched towards the car, the melody Artie had been creating still floating through his head. Artie's mind was far away as he slipped into the front seat, his father folding his wheelchair into the trunk. They started the drive as usual, Rush Limbaugh rambling off complicated politics while Mackenzie talked about her friends and school in the back seat to no one in particular. They drove past the middle school to drop off Mackenzie, Artie staring out the window, not so keen on reliving his own middle school experience. Just as they started off again, Artie noticed a lone figure not far ahead of them. Her familiar black hair was now streaked with bright blue, but he would recognize her plaid backpack covered in safety pins anywhere. "Hey, stop!"
Mr. Abrams nearly slammed on the breaks, "What is it? What's wrong?" He turned down Rush, thinking maybe it was Artie's back again.
"Jeez, sorry, it's not that." He shook his head and rolled down his window. He looked back, and sure enough, Tina was approaching their car. "Hey, Tee, hop in."
She smiled, jogging up to the car.
"Do you mind, dad?" Artie asked, a bit too late.
"Not at all," he smiled as Tina climbed into the back seat.
"Hey Tina," Artie turned around as far as he could and looked at Tina awkwardly. "How are you?"
She smiled back shyly, "g-good. Hey, th-thanks for the r-r-ride, Mr. A-A-Abrams."
"No problem," he said grandly.
Artie kept trying to look back at her, which wasn't working because they were both on the same side of the car. Finally he gave and looked ahead at the road, hoping to keep conversation up. "How was your summer?"
"B-b-boring, but it was o-o-ok. I d-d-didn't do much. Wh-what about y-you?"
Artie half smiled at his friend's stutter; he found it enduring. "Yeah, it was nice. We went to Chicago to visit my aunt for a week." He left out how awful that trip had turned out. Although his mother and their aunt talked all the time, years had passed before either family was able to make the almost 5 hour trip. Artie barely remembered the last time he had seen his cousins; he had been about 5. Of course his aunt had no clue what to expect from Artie and his wheelchair, but she had gotten it all wrong. Artie glanced over at his father and could almost see him wincing.
"Th-that's nice," Tina said from the back seat and now, Artie caught her face in the rear view mirror, looking ahead in wide eyed innocence. Her eyes roamed to his reflection and he gave her a soft smile."I-it's g-g-good to s-see you, Artie. I-It w-wasn't the s-same without o-our homework c-c-calls." she said softly.
Artie kept smiling into the mirror, watching her nervously fix her hair. "I've missed you too," he said.
She looked up through her veil of hair and gave him the sweetest smile he'd seen from anyone in a long time. Suddenly, her smiled died and her eyes widened. "H-hey, g-guess what? I-I-I heard Mr. Sh-Shue is g-g-gonna t-take over th-the g-g-glee club. Ma-maybe we sh-should sign up?"
"The glee club?" Artie looked at her reflection like she was crazy. Me in the glee club? No way was he gonna join the glee club. He had enough going on, being in jazz band and advanced art. Anyway, it wasn't like he could get up and dance and isn't that what those show choirs did?
"Yeah, it m-m-might be f-f-fun. I-i-i a-already know-" she cut off, suddenly turning to look out the window. Artie knotted his eyebrows and followed her glance out the window, shocked to see that they were already in the high school parking lot. "Hey, isn't that, I-I-I m-mean, th-that's Kurt!" She pointed out the window, where sure enough, Kurt was standing besides the dumpster, surrounded by jocks. Artie don't know why she was so surprised; Kurt got thrown in the trash at least twice a week.
She threw open the door. "Hey wait!" Artie called after her, rolling down his window. "Tee- what are you doing?"
"It's time s-s-someone s-s-stood up to those jocks." Her voice was surprisingly strong as she called back; Artie could not miss that her stutter was nearly gone. She turned and walked confidently towards the dumpster.
"Wait!" Artie called after her, sure that she had lost her mind... "Dad, I gotta stop her." He looked pleadingly at his father, wishing now more than ever he could just get out of the car himself.
"I got you," Mr. Abrams winked and pulled into the first open spot he saw. Artie's father jumped out of the car and hurried to unpack the wheelchair. As Artie sat there, his heart raced, he had to do something, but there was no way he could catch Tina now...