A/N: I honestly forgot about this fic for the past week...:D I love it, and I love you guys, but I got to the climax of my other fic and was like "FOCUS!" on that one so...SORRY! But I have plans. I swear.

And I'm pretty sure (don't quote me on this) that the next few chapters will be in Artie's POV.

(Artie's POV)

And of course, the whole school knew about it the instant I rolled in on Monday. Whispered glances. Awkward hellos. Quinn squeezed my shoulder in English. I didn't want the pity. Kurt sent me hourly texts. I never responded. I have never felt so alone. Santana was absent today, so at least that spared me the awful confrontation that was sure to ensue.

"I heard about Santana," Tina said in glee.

"I'm sure you did."

"It really sucks what she did to you."

"Maybe you two can compare notes!" I snap. I instantly feel guilty, but who cares? I look away, and try to focus on Schue's drabble.

Rachel gives me sympathetic looks. I pointedly stare at something else.

Why is everyone feel so goddamn sorry for me?

The ride home in my dad's van was silent. He never said a word when I came home on Saturday. He cooks. He makes lasagna and brownies and pie. People joke that he'd make the perfect housewife, and we always laugh awkwardly when they do. My dad only got so good at cooking because Mom died. He cooked to feed us, and to compensate for his depression. Yeah, life sucks. Join the party, we're serving fruit punch and bullets.

Man, maybe Tina and I should have a goth fest together.

Anyways.

I push my glasses further up on my nose, and open the door to my room.

I froze when I saw what was in my room, with a sparkling gold bow wrapped around.

A Gibson Full Size Silk&Steel-String Acoustic Guitar with a Polyester finish.

The kind I've been asking for since the beginning of time.

I reach out and caress it with my fingertips gently.

I shiver with delight.

Then I squeal like a girl.

"THANKS DAD!" I yell.

"For what?" he shouts back.

"The guitar that's standing in the middle of my room!"

"What guitar?" he asks, coming in.

"That one," I say, pointing. He gapes at it.

"Is that a Gibson?"

"Yup."

He strokes the neck. "I didn't get this for you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Then who did?"

He looks at the back, and finds a tag attatched to a string.

"What does it say?" I ask.

"Well, it's folded in half and says: To Artie. I'm not going to read what it says inside." My dad respects privacy. He whistles in appreciation at it one more time, then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

I expect the inside of the note to say something like 'marry christmas from auntie' or something.

Instead it only has one sentence.

'On the first day of christmas, my true love gave to me...'

Mysterious.

-Later-

When people asked about my guitar later in glee, I just told them it was a Christmas gift. Santana was in math today, but not in glee. Not that I cared. I was obsessed with my present, though. It played like an angel, and it even had an attachment that could secure it to my wheelchair. Best gift ever!

"Artie, I know you are in love with that guitar," Mr. Schue starts. "So why don't you sing us a song?"

A solo?

Really?

"YES."

-Even More Later-

I call Kurt when I get home, lying on my bed.

"Merry Christmas, dude!" I say.

"Artie! Hi! Guess what?"

"What?"

"No, you have to guess."

I sigh, grinning. "Blaine just kissed you."

"I wish! But I'll just tell you since you're a horrible guesser. I got you a present!"

"Is it a gibson guitar? Cuz I already have one."

"What? No! It's just something but you won't get it until I visit you guys." I'm about to speak, but he interrupts me with, "Oh yeah, and I know you didn't get me a gift because you're so scatterbrained, so I stole twenty bucks from your wallet while you were in my car, and got myself something from Bath & Body Works."

I should be furious for his kleptomaniac style, but I just laugh. "Thanks, you know me so well."

"Yup!" Then his voice get's low an secretive. "Have you seen Santana lately?"

She hasn't been on my mind lately. "Not really."

"Good. Because if she even ATTEMPTS to talk to you, her throat is broken in half!"

"You're my knight in shining armor."

"Damn straight."

I look at the clock. Almost midnight. "Got to go Kurt, I have volunteer work in the morning."

"Tutoring Puck?"

"Yeah, at 6am. He never has any other time."

"Sorry, man. Goodnight."

"Night."

I turn off the light, and look up the ceiling.

"What?" I whisper, and put my glasses back on.

On my ceiling are two glow in the dark star stickers.

The second day of Christmas?