Chapter 10: Artie III

By lunch, there had been 3 failed slushie attempts by various jocks and the whole school was buzzing. Artie, being the first non-victim, was being constantly asked questions about the situation and it was getting a little old. As he rolled up to the table where he, Tina, Mercedes and Kurt always had lunch, Jacob Ben Israel stopped him, dictaphone in hand.

"Artie, what's your explanation for the self-slushie phenomenon going on today? Witnesses report that you were the intended victim of this first slushie, that David Karofsky attempted to throw at you but ended up throwing at himself."

"I have absolutely no idea what happened," Artie replied truthfully. "And frankly, I'm a little sick of people asking questions, so if you'd excuse me, I'd like to go eat my lunch in peace."

"The two other intended victims, Kurt Hummel and Tina Cohen-Chang, are friends of yours, correct?" Jacob asked.

Artie sighed. "Yes. You know this, Jacob. Can you please just leave me alone?"

"So, is it possible that this is some kind of Glee club conspiracy? The Glee club has, after all, been the target of slushies more often than any other group, and it does seem strange that three members of the Glee clubs are involved in this."

"Jacob, listen to yourself," Artie snapped. "How on earth could any of us have caused jocks to slushie themselves instead of us? Maybe they're just clumsy today."

"Or maybe there's something more sinister going on," Jacob argued.

"Like what?" Artie asked. "Give me a logical explanation."

"That's easy," Jacob replied. "Blackmail of some sort. Someone has something on one of the jocks, one of you Glee club kids, and as revenge, you're blackmailing them into slushie-ing themselves."

Artie raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right?"

"This is only a theory, of course."

"I'm going to eat my lunch now."

Jacob followed Artie to the table where Mercedes, Kurt and Tina were sitting. All three of them rolled their eyes as Jacob approached. "Beat it, Jew-Fro," said Mercedes. "I ain't answering any more of your questions. None of us have any idea what's going on."

"I wouldn't think any of you have the imagination for this sort of blackmail," Jacob said, glaring at Mercedes. He then fixed Kurt with a look. "Except you, Mr. Hummel. You've slushied yourself in the past. You're an obvious culprit."

"Whoa, b-b-blackmail?" said Tina with a grin, picking her sandwich. "D-d-do you really think s-s-o, Jacob?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," replied Jacob.

"Baring some kind of super power," Artie joked.

Tina, who'd just taken a bite of her sandwich, gave a start and started to splutter. Mercedes stood up and came around behind her, patting her on the back until she recovered. "You okay, girl?"

"I'm f-f-fine," she said, blushing slightly. "It's just r-r-really silly. Super p-p-p-powers?"

"Hey, I like comic books," Artie protested. "It makes sense if you're me."

Jacob sighed. "I'm getting nowhere with you people. But don't worry. I will find out and it will be gracing the blogosphere as soon as I do."

As Jacob headed off, the four of them exchanged a look. "So," ventured Artie, once he was sure Jacob was out of earshot, "any theories about what's going on? That don't involve blackmail or the X-men?"

"You can put it all down to performance anxiety," snickered Kurt. Mercedes cracked up laughing and playfully swatted him on the arm.

Tina smiled, and Artie noticed she was still a little flushed from the earlier sandwich incident. "You sure you're okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm f-f-fine." She blushed. "I must have l-l-looked totally st-st-stupid."

"You never look stupid to me," said Artie, without thinking. He regretted saying the words out loud the minute they'd left his mouth and would have kicked himself had it been physically possible. What was wrong with him? Tina had made it clear she just wanted to be friends and the amount of time she was spending with Mike Chang was a pretty clear indication that any feelings she might have had for Artie were either gone or no longer mattered. She blushed at his words, and ducked her head forward, a curtain of blue and black covering her face not totally obscuring a smile. A smile that gave him hope, despite everything.

God, he was an idiot.

"Seriously, though, I just don't get it, guys," said Mercedes, breaking through Artie's thoughts. "Karofsky and some other goon were there with slushies, about to throw them at me and Tina when all of a sudden, they just throw them in their own faces. It was possibly one of the greatest moments of high school but I really, really don't get it."

"That means Karofsky got slushied twice today?" said Kurt with a chuckle. "Oh man. That's rough by our standards. And you can bet he has no idea how to get corn syrup out of his hair successfully. He's going to be sticky for the rest of the day."

"I think he ruined his jacket," commented Mercedes. "This place is turning into the freaking Twilight Zone."

"Mercedes, please don't tell me you read that crap."

"The Twilight Zone is a TV show," Artie added helpfully. "No sparkly vampires. No longing stares. Just... other weird shit."

"Oh, thank Gucci."

"Kurt," said Mercedes, rolling her eyes. "Give me a little credit." She turned back toward Tina and Artie. "I mean, think about it, guys, it's been weird recently. There was that fire in the hallway – rumor has it they have no idea how it started, but it looks like the light bulbs just exploded. I mean, that's some freaky shit right there. And then there's jocks slushie-ing themselves..." She paused for dramatic effect. "Maybe McKinley is haunted."

There was a moment of silence, then Tina and Kurt cracked up laughing. "You've got to be k-k-k-kidding."

"How is that a legitimate theory and we're completely ruling out people with super powers?" asked Artie with a grin. "I mean, there's actual scientific evidence for steps in human evolution where ordinary people gain extraordinary abilities."

"Someones been watching Heroes again," said Kurt, with a roll of his eyes.

"You watched Heroes?" Mercedes asked.

"Sweetie, have you seen Milo Ventimiglia? I wouldn't mind him flying through my window late at night."

"It s-s-s-seems a little f-f-far-fetched," said Tina, frowning. "You're n-n-not s-s-serious, are you, Artie?"

"I doubt that people with super powers are going to pop up in Lima, Ohio," said Artie thoughtfully. "But in terms of whether it's possible... I think it could be, yeah. Maybe one day."

"You just wanna prance around in a cape and your underwear outside your clothes, don't you Wheels?" teased Mercedes.

"I'd settle for just being able to prance," he replied automatically. The table went deathly quiet and Mercedes looked incredibly guilty. "Sorry. I guess that wasn't funny."

"No, I... I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry, Artie," said Mercedes, looking at him with such pity that it kind of made him want to rip her eyes out. Yes, he couldn't prance, so to speak, and it sucked, but the last thing he wanted was pity. The whole Glee club in wheelchairs for the week wasn't about them pitying him, it was about understanding that things were hard, not feeling sorry for him because they were... all of a sudden, the room felt a little claustrophobic.

"It's fine, Mercedes," he said as kindly as he could. He made a show of looking at his watch. "You know what, I've got a couple of things I need to sort out before next period, I'll catch you guys later." With that, he wheeled away from the table, leaving three stunned friends behind him.

He headed to the men's room to collect himself a bit and sat in a cubicle reading over his history notes for the next ten minutes, trying to get his emotions under control. Artie just didn't deal with pity too well, which was a pain considering he got it awfully often. They didn't really mean anything by it, Mercedes hadn't even meant to say anything offensive and it wasn't, not really. It was just... another reminder he didn't need.

The door to the bathroom opened and he heard a familiar, very irritated female voice. "This is disgusting. Why'd we have to meet in here?"

"Cos there's no way I'm going in the girl's bathroom," replied another, male voice. There was a pause and some footsteps, then another pause. "Okay, I think we're good."

"Make it quick, Chang, otherwise I'm going to have to rip off the crazy guidance counsellors cleaning kit to disinfect myself. What's the problem?"

"You've heard about the self-slushie thing, right?" asked the voice Artie now recognised as Mike.

"Of course I have," snapped back the female voice, which Artie thought was... Santana?

"I think it's Tina."

Whoa. What the hell? Artie froze, now insanely paranoid they were going to realise he was there. What did Mike mean? How the hell could it be Tina?

"Tina blows things up," said Santana incredulously. "She never does anything intentionally, it's all just.. reaction."

"Well, what if this is reaction?" Mike pointed out. "They were trying to slushie her, and Mercedes. And Artie. And we know how she feels about him."

"Don't get me started," Santana muttered. "This hasn't happened before, though. And now three times in a day?"

"She's been working on controlling it," Mike said cautiously. "My mom said she was doing well. Maybe she did do it on purpose."

"Well, you need to talk to her," said Santana. "You need to tell her that she can't do this, it's bringing too much attention on her." Artie could hear a sigh. It sounded almost sad. "It's not like she'll listen to me anymore. Not after what happened with Artie."

"You did what you had to do," said Mike. "We both did."

There was another pause. "We shouldn't be talking here," said Santana. "We'll meet up tonight. After Glee. If we both talk to her, maybe she'll listen."

"Speaking of Glee... remember what we talked about?"

"Don't worry, I'm on it. We'll figure it out. I'll listen in. Now let's get out of here."

Artie heard footsteps, the door opening again then closing with a bang. He closed his eyes and tried to process what the hell he'd just overheard.