A/N: I know. It's been a while. I purposefully waited until after I saw "Special Education" to write this. Weird name for an episode. I won't give anything away, since that's mean, but I will say this: 1) Watch the sectionals performance, and the other performance, and you'll see Artie dancing and/or smiling with Santana. 2) Tina was good. I read reviews on Avclub(dot)com and they didn't mention her. She was fantastic. Also, go to that website and look at the picture they have for the review of that episode. Smile at who's in the background.
(Santana's POV)
I'm fine. If you say I'm not, and that I'm dreading the show Puck and I are going to...well...screw you. I hate you.
The ticket guy or whatever smiles at us while checking our tickets.
"You guys have fun," he says. I smile back. His name tag says 'Jeff'.
"Thanks, Jeff," I say.
There are seats to sit on while watching it. Classy. No beer spills in sight. Puck grins at me. I grin back. Just forget about Artie.
(Artie's POV)
"Hey, dude!" I say, happy to see my best friend.
"Why, hello Artie," Kurt says, high fiving me. We're both grinning.
"How's Dalton?"
He snorted. "Meh."
"Oh no!" I say. "You've found another nerdy cripple, haven't you? One who can quote Star Wars better than me!" My mock horror makes us both giggle like a couple of teenage girls.
"Ready for some...mime...painter...dancers?" Kurt asked.
"Yeah, let's hit it!"
We pull up in the parkinglot and Kurt gets me situated in my chair. As we wheel in, the ticket person, named Jeff, smiles at us.
"Have fun," he says.
"Thanks, Jeff," I say back. He raises an eyebrow.
"Second time that's been said to me..."
Kurt nods at him, and we go inside. As soon as Jeff is out of ear shot, Kurt leans down.
"That ticket guy was seriously hot!" he whispers.
"What?"
"Did you see him? Green eyes...I love green eyes." He gets this far off look, and I know he's taking a ride down gay lane.
"I'm more of a brown eyed person," I say. Kurt snaps back into reality.
"Like, the brown eyes of a particular Latino girl who can absolutely belt it on stage?" Kurt asks.
I don't answer that question. We go into the handicapped section of the theater. The lights flicker, and everyone is quiet. The dancers come out on stage with their paintbrushes.
I miss Santana.
(Santana's POV)
Puck is bored out of his mind by minute two. He's asleep. Thank god he doesn't snore. Me? I'm engrossed in this. It's interesting as hell, not kidding. They make such beautiful pictures, and are really good dancers. Maybe not as good as Britt or Other Asian, but better than me.
That's why I'm surprised for a few seconds when I see Artie in the handicapped section. I was so interested in the show that I forgot that I came to see it for different reasons. Now I'm kinda hoping he doesn't see me.
I slowly jerk Puck awake. He mumbles something about Jews, then looks up at me.
"Come on, we're leaving!" I whisper. He nods. Maybe I can get out of here without Artie seeing...
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT IS NOW TIME FOR INTERMISSION!" The announcement...announces. I curse in Spanish. Everyone stampedes out, and I'm left behind trying to find Puck. He grabs me and pulls me to sit down so we can wait for the crowd to pass. When everyone's gone, I look around the empty theater.
Well, almost empty.
Artie's with Kurt, and their trying to move out.
They're going to look up. I can sense it.
Better now than never.
I pull Puck's face to mine, showing him I want to have a serious make out session. He accepts eagerly, and battles my tongue with his.
Forget Artie, just forget. Puck. Puck.
(Artie's POV)
We decide it's best for us to wait out the swarm of people before trying to maneuver to the lobby.
"Oh, no..." Kurt whispers. I raise an eyebrow, and follow his line of sight.
Oh.
Santana and Puck.
Kissing.
Making out.
Being at the same show.
Kurt voices my thoughts.
"You...you...BITCH!" he yells, and it echoes throughout.
Santana and Puck jolt apart.
"What are you doing here, Hummel?" Puck asks, confused.
"What am I doing here? WHAT AM I DOING HERE? I'M GOING TO THE SHOW WITH ARTIE, BECAUSE SANTANA HERE SAID NO TO HIM!"
Puck looks over to Santana. "What? You said you had a cousin in this show."
"Well...I...I..."
Puck and Santana come down to the floor, same ground as Kurt and I.
Kurt gaped at her. "I can't believe this! You took Puck to the show that Artie specifically invited you to, then you just suck face like that, just to be a hardcore, heartless, bitch!"
"Leaving..." Puck said quickly, and bolted towards the exit.
I rolled forward, "Kurt..."
Kurt spun around to face me. "She can't do this to you!"
"Kurt, let me fight my own battles. Wait in the car."
Kurt stomped his foot.
"Listen to your wife, Hummel," Santana spat. Kurt looked like he wanted to slap her, but instead grumbled something and marched away.
It was my turn.
(Santana's POV)
Kurt was the best friend Artie could ever have. I hope he knows that.
Artie hates me now.
Good.
That was the plan.
He wheels towards me, and stops when he deems it close enough.
"You know, Santana," he begins calmly, "over the past couple of weeks, I convinced myself that I knew the real you. The art, the smiles, the jokes, the all around good girl. It was an act, wasn't it? But I was right, though. I know the real you. I'm looking right at her. The cold, heartless girl who just raises to break. I had really liked you Santana. Maybe even more than a friend."
I meet his eyes. Really? I ask without speaking.
"But now, I realize that you're a cruel, awful, well, bitch."
I start to cry. I never cry. The tears sting my cheeks as the flow, and I feel anger rising through me.
"I hate you too!" I scream, and I run towards the exit, pushing Artie out of his wheelchair on the way.
I hate myself even more.
