Sam
At the first intermission, he and Artie hurried out into the lobby to meet the rest of the team. Artie was visibly distracted by the prospect of seeing Kitty, though, staring off into space as he parked his chair beside the seating area near the stage door.
"You okay, dude?" Sam asked, taking the seat beside him. He kept his voice low, trying to be considerate of the fact that the rest of the alumni were just a few paces behind.
Artie folded his hands in his lap. "I don't know how to act like I'm okay with this," he said, under his breath. "It's what I said I was going to do, but..." He didn't get to finish, as Mercedes sank into the seat next to him and Quinn perched on the armrest of her chair.
Sam hadn't been able to fess up to Artie yet, that he'd overheard the whole conversation between he and Kitty at Homecoming, after the ceremony. He hadn't meant to spy. He'd been coming back from getting popcorn when he spotted Artie under the bleachers with Kitty awkwardly crouching down beside him, in her red formal dress, her face already a mess from crying.
"I didn't plan it," she was saying. "But yes, the truth is, I do like him, Artie. When you were going weeks without even calling and texting, I was mad at you for that. And then Ryder asked me out, just as friends, so I went, and we had a great time and..."
"Please... stop crying," Artie had said, as he heaved an enormous sigh. "It's my fault, okay? I... I knew this would happen."
In the shadows, Sam munched his popcorn intently, trying to make sure he stayed hidden but also straining to hear the next part of the conversation. He couldn't, though, because Kitty dropped her voice and also started sobbing again, so that the words were hard to make out.
"Not because of you," he could hear Artie protest. "Because of me. Look, I want you to be happy. Go out with Ryder, if it makes you happy."
"You're lying," Kitty choked out. "Why are you lying to me? Self-preservation?"
Artie had shrugged.
"Or did you just want to force me to break up with you?" Kitty had countered, straightening up to her full height as she seemed to come to a brand new conclusion. "It's what I thought before. You just wanted your freedom for college."
"That's not it at all," Artie was saying, but just then, Blaine was approaching and waving and Sam knew if he stayed in that spot, he was going to get caught. So he'd left the shadowy corner to greet Blaine, and he'd found Artie much later, sitting in his car, waiting for Sam so they could leave.
And now Artie's face looked like it did that evening when Sam had found him sitting alone in his car. He wanted to talk to him about it, but he found himself joining in a conversation with Quinn and Mercedes instead.
"I'm going to be singing at church tomorrow," Quinn was saying, as she glanced up at Sam. "I was telling Mercedes she's invited, though I understand if she already has plans to go to her church. Are you going to be there?"
"I was planning on it," Sam said. He and Quinn had gone to the same church ever since he and his family had moved to Ohio. "I'd need a ride though." He looked down at Artie. "You wanna come?"
Artie was jolted out of his quiet reverie. He looked up at Sam, mystified by the invitation. "What?" he said. "Oh, no, that's okay."
Quinn and Mercedes exchanged a brief look, and Sam, who only knew that Artie had never once accepted an invitation to go to church with him, wanted to tell the girls that now was not the time. But there was no way to really do that, not with him sitting right there.
"That's too bad," Quinn said, softly. "I'll be singing a solo during the service. I was really flattered that they asked me, when they found out I'd be home..."
"You know what?" Mercedes said, grinning at Quinn. "I can always go to my church next weekend, after Thanksgiving is over. Count me in."
"Okay, so I'll come pick you up." Quinn then looked at Sam. "And you, too, Sam, I'll come by Artie's in the morning. How about it Artie, are you in?"
Well, Sam knew one thing. What had initially sparked Artie's interest in Kitty was the fact that everyone agreed she was the new Quinn Fabray. And so it didn't surprise him when Artie finally gave a reluctant nod and agreed to go along, after Quinn extended the invitation.
"Is it... accessible?" Artie added, as an afterthought.
"Oh, definitely," Quinn assured him. "No, and I know for a fact, since I went a few times in a wheelchair myself. It was completely ADA compliant."
This conversation was cut short by the opening of the stage door, as the New Directions filed out. The girls wore emerald green dresses with black tulle for this performance, with the guys dressed in solid black shirts and pants, with emerald green ties. Tina quickly asked who made all the costumes, and it was Sugar who gave the explanation.
"Oh, no one, we bought these," she said, with a giggle as she fluffed her skirt and gave a little twirl. "Daddy helped."
Behind Sugar, Kitty had been in the middle of talking to Marley as they emerged, but she stopped in the middle of her sentence, when she saw Artie. It was a little embarrassing for the rest of them, to witness this uncomfortable moment. But then it was Sugar who took it to the next level.
"Wow, Artie," Sugar said, gasping dramatically as she took in the sight of him. "You look so much better. Doesn't he look better, Kitty?" She glanced over her shoulder, as the blonde proceeded to direct an eye roll at the ceiling. "Oh... awkward."
Sugar proceeded to walk away dreamily as Artie just made up some excuse to get away and Kitty retreated into a circle of girls with Marley, Unique, Madison, and the slender, new black girl on the team.
After everyone else had finished complimenting the New Directions on their performance, Blaine and Kurt ran up to the group to tell them to hurry back to their seats, as it was nearly time for the Warblers to go on.
Artie, it seemed, had returned before everyone else and was preoccupied with skimming the program, probably just trying to look busy so that no one could ask him about Kitty again.
The Warblers were performing second, and they were going to be followed by the final group, the Unitards.
As Sam scanned the program, one name in the Warblers jumped out at him. "Psst," he said, leaning over to Artie. "Did you see this? Rory Flanagan's on the Warblers."
"Maybe it's a different Rory Flanagan," Artie joked, and Sam was pleased to see that he'd found his sense of humor on his way back to the auditorium. "I wonder if Sugar caught up with him backstage."
The Warblers did an impressive set list, although it was clear they were pandering to the judges, one of whom was a former Marine, while another was a state senator. Their chosen theme was America. They did 'American Pie,' 'Party in the U.S.A., and 'America.' Ironically, the Irishman, Rory, was singing lead on most of the songs.
"Do you think they know we did that at Nationals last year?" Artie asked, as he leaned over to Sam, frowning. Sam was scowling, too. They both took show choir plagiarism pretty seriously.
"Our version was better," Tina said, on the opposite side of Artie, as Sam nodded in agreement.
There was another short intermission after the Warblers, and Sam asked Artie if he wanted to hurry out ahead of the crowd again. Artie, however, glanced over his shoulder, where the New Directions were seated at the end of a row, three rows behind theirs. He turned again to face the front, a stony expression on his face.
"I'll stay here."
Sam was torn. He didn't want to abandon Artie, but he also didn't want to sit there at that moment. "I just wanted to go meet the newbies..." he trailed off. "C'mon, dude."
At which, Artie shook his head. "I can't, everyone will trip over me in the aisle." He shot Sam a look of annoyance that Sam hadn't seen before. Taking this as a cue to leave, Sam did just that.
The newbies turned out to consist of only one freshman, a heavy guy named Roderick, who slipped his headphones off long enough to say hello before replacing them; two sophomore guys, Alistair and Spencer, who were holding hands; the twins, seniors, Madison and Mason; and the slender black girl who turned out to be a sophomore named Jane.
The alumni assembled into the nearly-empty row in front of the New Directions, everyone talking, meeting the new members and catching up with the old ones. Sam glanced behind him again to see that Tina had faithfully remained by Artie's side down in their now-empty row at the front of the section. With mixed feelings, he turned to continue a conversation with Jake, Ryder, and Spencer.
Suddenly, a girl in one of the white dresses that the third team, the Unitards, was wearing ran up to them. "Rachel Berry!" she squealed. "It's me, Harmony. Remember, we met at the NYADA mixer? I saw you as Fanny Brice!"
Harmony, as it turned out, couldn't stay for long because she was about to go onstage. A senior now, however, she didn't leave without first asking Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine if they'd be her references for her NYADA application.
As the lights flashed, some of the alumni stayed in the seats in front of the New Directions, but as for Sam, he dutifully returned to his seat by Artie. Artie said nothing when he returned, and Sam didn't have a chance to say anything either, as the announcer came on to introduce the final team.
"I was a little worried when the Unitards did a patriotic theme too," Artie said, laughing lightly as they sat around the upstairs game room, telling Amy all about Sectionals later that evening. "The New Directions were the only team that didn't get the memo to pander to the judges."
"Yeah, but I didn't think the judges needed two renditions of 'Party in the U.S.A.,'" Sam added, as Amy made a face. "Yeah. It was pretty unfortunate for the Unitards, that they went after the Warblers."
"I think it's pretty unfortunate that they called themselves the Unitards," Amy added.
"Rory and the Warblers honestly were robbed," Artie admitted. "The New Directions are going to need to step it up a little for Regionals, I'm afraid. They won this thing by the skin of their teeth."
"I hope that wasn't what you told them," Amy teased, at which point, Artie just hung his head. "Oh, no, let me guess. You didn't want to talk to them after you saw Kitty." She exhaled loudly, sounding eerily just like her younger brother to Sam. "Well, at least you can have a second chance when you see everyone again on Monday."
"I guess," Artie said, as he prepared to lower himself down off the couch. It was getting late. Before he could commence with scooting towards the stairs again, however, Amy reached down and inexplicably put a hand on his.
"Hey," she said, her voice gentle now. "What, uh, what do you want to do tomorrow? I've got no plans, we can do whatever you want."
Artie shrugged. "Oh, um, Sam and Quinn invited me to come to their church, and I said I'd go. After that, we can do something. Go out for lunch maybe."
Amy narrowed her eyes just then, looking from Sam to Artie. But all she said was, "Sure, Artie, we'll see you in the morning."
It wasn't Sam's imagination, that Amy was being a little weird now. They both sat in silence, listening as Artie disappeared down the staircase in the hallway, slowly making his way on his backside until he reached the bottom and got back into his chair. Tonight, Amy wasn't looking like she was going to go throwing herself at Sam again. Instead, she looked worried and pensive as she sat, staring at the wall, her legs curled up under her on the couch.
"Uh, did I do something wrong?" Sam finally asked.
Amy jumped up, running over to make sure Artie was gone. She stopped at the doorway, staring down the stairs for a moment, before coming back to where Sam was and taking a seat right by him, facing him, a serious expression on her face.
"Do you know what tomorrow is?" she asked.
"Uh, Sunday?" Sam guessed. "November 24th?"
"Tomorrow," she said, furrowing her brow. "Will be eleven years to the day since that truck ran a red light and almost killed my brother."
Sam didn't know what to say. He'd had no idea. Artie had never said when it was, he had never shared more than the fact that it was a car accident when he was eight. It seemed like Amy didn't expect that Sam would have known all the details.
"I'm kind of shocked he wants to go to church with you," Amy added, looking down and tracing the stitching on the couch cushion instead of looking at Sam. "My family used to go. And eleven years ago, I was actually sitting in church with my dad, when he stepped out for a phone call. After a few minutes, he came back in and yanked me out of the sanctuary. Told me we had to go right away, that Mom and Artie had been in a serious accident on the way to the club soccer tournament."
Before he could think about what he was doing, Sam gently put an arm around her. Amy grabbed the pillow and clutched it to her chest, as she seemed to struggle to tell the rest. He held her a little more tightly then.
"When we got there, they lied and told the doctors I was fourteen, so I could see him. He was... surrounded by so many tubes and machines and he was so tiny, it was almost impossible to see him in the bed. He couldn't even breathe by himself. They told me without the machine that was doing it, he wouldn't survive. That he almost didn't even survive the accident, that he was lucky he made it." Amy choked on those words. "Lucky is not the word I would have used."
Sam swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I don't understand. Why are you shocked that Artie would go to church with me? Seems like it might be a good way to spend the day..."
Amy gave a humorless laugh just then.
"We stopped going to that church after they put off building a ramp for several months. They finally told my mom, 'Well, he's pretty light, we'll help carry him in.' At which point, she lost it. That was the last straw." Amy paused. "I drove by it once. It has a ramp now. I guess they finally got a crippled member who wasn't light enough to be carried inside."
Sam was speechless at that. Before he could make a comment, though, Amy got to her feet and added one more detail to drive her point home. "That wasn't all," she said. "My mom and Artie both overheard someone saying that if they'd just been in church that day, it wouldn't have happened."
As Sam tried to pick his jaw up off the floor, Amy just smirked, as if to say and that's why we don't like church or church people. Sam wanted to say that all church people weren't like that. But, in his heart, he knew that unfortunately, some were. And the bad ones were always making trouble for the rest of them.