Very rarely did Tina Cohen-Chang ever feel special. Her parents were the types to reward her for her efforts, but not hang on them so much that she would get that warm fuzzy feeling inside. But when she was with Artie, that warm feeling was a constant glow in her stomach. And not because of the things he said or did, but because she knew that she was close to a person that rarely let people get close to him.

Like, when his arms got tired from long hours of wheeling himself around the school, she was the only one he was ever comfortable with pushing his chair for him. He had confided in her once that he let Noah Puckerman push his chair for him right after the accident—and she assumed that he couldn't have been more than nine years old—and pushed Artie into the man-made lake on the other side of the McKinley Elementary playground. Ever since then, he had explained, he just barred the soreness of his arms that popped up around lunchtime.

She always smiled whenever he would let his hands drop into his lap when she leaned against the back of his chairs, slowly taking the reins from him.

And then there were other things that made her feel like she was in some sort of special group with Artie. She was the only one from Glee club that had ever seen him out of his chair when he could help it or seen him swim. And she felt that he was an incredible swimmer. Agile and muscular and all the things that girls talked about when they thought of someone they wanted to be with.

"Tina?" Artie said, pausing the movie they were watching on their usual Friday night movie marathon, "Tee?"

"Yeah?" she said, snapping back to reality.

"You okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned. She gave him a soft smile in return.

As he clicked the play button on their movie, she whispered, "Yeah. Perfect."