Here's what you missed on Glee.

Melissa isn't doing so well in Spanish and Artie knows because Mr. Schuester talked about it right in front of him. Ouch.

Rachel has a hard time keeping out of other people's personal lives, but Artie stood up for Melissa when it happened.

Melissa poured her heart out into a Taylor Swift song for Artie and after Glee club got her first slushie facial.

And that's what you missed on Glee.


Chapter Seven

Kurt and Mercedes, it seemed, had gone through the motions before. They had slushie all over their face, but seemed otherwise unharmed. I, however, was shaking from the cold and could feel my eyes watering up from tears I had been trying to suppress all day.

"I thought Karofsky was going to leave us alone," Kurt mumbled, "I mean, since we have Finn and Puck in Glee club with us..."

I had no idea who Karofsky was, but I wasn't planning on finding out. Life was so hard. I couldn't take it anymore. My eyes had welled up with tears by this point.

"Melissa?" Mercedes said in a calm, soothing voice. I hadn't realized they had been discussing me. I had gone completely numb, both from the cold and the humiliation. "Are you o..."

I didn't let her finish; instead, I took off running down the hall, narrowly avoiding other Glee clubbers as they made their way home. I ran to the girls' bathroom, not noticing the person in front of me...

I crashed right into them. They turned, surprised, as I ended up on the floor. Completely mortified by this point, I started yelling (literally, yelling at the person) my apologies, then curled up in a ball and started to cry.

"Hey, I'm sorry," the person said, sounding as though it was his fault. "Really, I am..." I could hear wheels of a chair coming toward me, but didn't make the connection until Artie said, "Did you hit me that hard?"

I realized he was talking about my tears, so I curled up tighter on the floor and managed to squeak out, "No...rough day..." Rough wasn't nearly enough to cover what I was feeling inside; sure, I was in pain from colliding into Artie's chair, but I was also so embarrassed and felt so alone, even if I did have Kurt and Mercedes as friends. Yes, they had gotten their fair share of bullying (Kurt for being gay, Mercedes for being a bit heavy, both of them for being outcasts in Glee), but they seemed so well adjusted to it. The bullies I had had that day brought back the awful memories of my old school, and I forced back some more tears as Artie came closer, in a desperate attempt to help me up.

"No, it's okay," I said, sitting up and wiping my eyes on my sleeve. "I got it..."

It seemed as though he registered me for the first time, because he inhaled sharply and said, "Ooh. First time being slushied?"

"Y-yeah," I stammered, wondering why on earth he was still talking to me.

He watched for a second, then turned and opened a locker, apparently his. To my great alarm, he pulled out a towel from the locker and handed it to me. "You might want to wash your shirt as soon as you get home," he added as I cleaned off my face, completely covering his towel (white, I might add) with my dark mascara and eye liner. I looked down for the first time since the assault; my once baby blue shirt had streaks of purple on it.

"Funny," I said, calming down a bit. "That was my instinct, anyway."

For a moment, it looked like he was going to laugh, but decided against doing so. "Just wash that," he said, nodding to the white material in my hands. "Give it back whenever. I don't need it right away, anyway."

"Thanks, Artie," I mumbled, standing up. He offered me his hand; I ignored it. "I'll just be going..."

"See you tomorrow," he said, as though he was hiding something, then rolled off in the other direction.

I grabbed my bag and headed for the entrance. Kurt had already left. I walked home, miserable and afraid.

When I walked in, my mom called, "Missy...is that you?"

"Yeah, Mom," I squeaked. She came down the stairs.

"Honey, why are your face and shirt purple?" she asked, getting a good luck at me.

I sighed. "Long story."

She suddenly put on her "I'm-a-mom-and-I'm-concerned-for-my-daughter's-health-safety-and-well-being" face, as she said, "Missy, are you feeling alright?" She came at me, looking into my eyes intently, and called, "John! Where's the thermometer?"

"Dad's home?" I asked blankly. I had arrived home later than I had thought, apparently, as my stepfather called back, "In the cabinet, why?"

"Missy's got a temperature," my mother called back, rifling through the cabinet. God forbid they speak to each other normally.

"Mom, I'm fine," I argued, but she shoved the thermometer under my tongue anyway, feeling my forehead. To her (and my surprise, really), it was a bit warm. "99.8!" she said, sounding like a doting mother. I rolled my eyes.

"Really, Mom, I'm fine, I had to walk home..."

"That's it, you're staying home from school tomorrow."

What? My mother could make some pretty rash decisions sometimes, but this one was ridiculous. "Mom, what if I'm better by then? I have to go to school, Mom, I need help with Spanish..."

At that moment, John walked in. "Is something wrong, Bec?"

"John, feel her face," my mom said.

I turned away. "I'm fine." I glared at them. "Really. I am. I just think I need to go lie down." I climbed the stairs slowly to my room, called Kurt and told him not to bother with picking me up the next day (I knew Mom would protest school), and laid down on my mattress and cried.

I considered calling Monica, but I couldn't remember the time difference. She could still be in school. Knowing my luck, she would be. I even considered calling Rachel, but I doubted I was that desperate. I looked through the contacts in my phone. There were six. Dad, Kurt, Mercedes, Mom, Monica, Rachel. I didn't want to talk to my parents (they were downstairs anyway, I could just holler and they're come running), I had told Kurt I didn't want to talk, Mercedes...well, she was Mercedes, Monica was probably in school, and God forbid I talk to Rachel. But I just felt so lonely, like I needed someone to talk to.

I went to my desk, took out my laptop, and started to type.

Dear Artie,

I'm sorry. I'm sure you're probably getting the heat, too. I'm so sorry. I wish I had never met you. I mean, you're an amazing guy. Even if we don't know each other all that well, we're sort of friends. And we get along. But if we had never met, we wouldn't be tormented like this. And your life would be easier. And maybe you and Tina would still be together. You seemed happy with her. At least, as happy as you could be between fighting all the time.

I don't know why I'm typing this. Really, I don't. I just feel so alone all the time. I'm sure you've probably felt like that too, even if you don't know I'm saying this. Okay, why'd I add that?

In fact, why am I saying any of this? What the hell is wrong with me?

Oh, I know.

I love you, Artie.

Love, sort of, Melissa A. Widman
Melissa Abrams (just kidding)

I closed the computer, sighing. Life was miserable.


Lame chapter, but I saw the Glee movie yesterday (8/23/11) for my birthday and I realized I haven't updated this in almost a year! Holy crap. I've been planning but I never typed anything. But I got a new laptop yesterday for my birthday (I shouldn't say new since theoretically I never had a laptop in the first place...) and it doesn't have Microsoft Word on it yet. The way I uploaded this is really interesting. None of you care, but you can take an existing document on FanFiction and change it, and that's what I did, because originally, I think, this was a Harry Potter fanfic I'd already posted. Anyway. Don't kill me. I'll be busy as hell this year, but I think I'll be able to upload more often because of Jillian (what I've named my laptop xD Don't judge). Even if I do have AP homework and sports practice for a sport I was forced into joining and drama (I don't know about drama yet, but I'm hoping). Anyway. Please review. If I get one or two reviews on this, I SWEAR, I'll post another chapter tomorrow! Wow long author's note.

-Hatter of Madness