Artie watched her pace around from his seat next to Azimio Adams. At the end of their row, Mike Chang was busy riffling through papers, presumably his Valedictorian speech. Rachel Berry had a seat on this row, too, but she wasn't sitting. She was pacing.
"You're making everyone nervous," Artie finally informed the irritating brunette, tired of watching her go back and forth in front of him, blocking his view. "Sit down."
She paused in front of him, but she didn't sit. Looking down on him, she just frowned. "I just wanted... more..." she trailed off, close to tears now. "I wanted to be able to say I was doing more than junior college and a community theater production of Nunsense after graduation."
Artie just stared at her, at a loss for words. He didn't know her well enough to know how to comfort her, despite having been in classes with her throughout their academic careers. He'd heard her sing in a few lame school productions. She was part of Mr. Ryerson's glee club that never really did much beyond nursing home visits and dorky classroom caroling during the holidays. Artie got to his feet so he could look her in the eye. She was one of the few girls who was a whole head shorter than he was, making her very short. She gazed up at him, awaiting some words of comfort.
"You have a good voice," he finally said. "Uh, you know... it's not too late to do something with that. Just do what you love, see where that takes you. You know... like I did..."
"Can you two lovebirds sit down already?" Azimio finally said, tugging at Artie's long, red graduation gown. He was a pretty big guy, one of their star defensive players on the football team, and so he was the type of guy people typically listened to. Artie sat back down and Rachel reluctantly went back to her seat as well.
"Psst, you ready for this?" Finn asked Artie, playfully yanking on the tassel of his graduation cap from behind, causing him to turn around and notice his best friend on the second row of seniors. "It seems like just yesterday we were little kids, and now we're about to graduate. And look at you, with your soccer scholarship. Ever since we were kids, you've been the best on the field. You deserve it all, dude. Congratulations."
Artie tried not to blush too much at his friend's compliment.
"Well, you could have been right here with me, had you not dropped soccer for football when we got to high school," Artie teased, twisting around in his seat to address Finn.
Finn was seated next to a cross-legged, annoyed looking Kurt Hummel, sandwiched between two of the jocks that routinely tossed him into dumpsters. Artie had never tossed Kurt into a dumpster, mostly because the flamboyant kid was still taller than he was, but he'd stood by silently and watched a handful of times. A few seats down sat Kurt's girlfriend, Mercedes Jones. The two had been prom dates, but they'd looked super weird dancing together, and neither had ever demonstrated all that much affection towards the other, despite a solid three years of dating. Everyone in the whole school knew why. Everyone except Mercedes, that is, though probably she knew and would never, ever admit it.
Artie and Finn had been nearly inseparable since they were six years old and the massive height difference between the two of them had never quite leveled out. Artie had inherited the short gene, but that didn't matter much whenever he was out on the soccer field. His speed and intricate footwork with the ball made up for what he lacked in height. A handful of colleges with impressive Division I soccer programs had taken notice of it too and offered him a scholarship. The choice was a difficult one, but he opted to stay close to home by choosing Ohio State. He figured it would be fun, too, to spend a year at school with Amy while she was a senior, and he, a freshman.
Finn, however, had quit soccer a few years back. He had been a decent defenseman, but his love for the sport was just casual (compared to Artie, whose whole life revolved around soccer). Finn had joined the football team their freshman year as the backup quarterback, and by sophomore year, he was starting in the position. Though he wasn't the best player, he had a lot of heart. Though their paths had diverged over the years, Finn and Artie had remained close friends.
"It's our graduation day, and you're still not going to let that go?" Finn knew perfectly Artie was never going to get over his betrayal, the fact that he'd found himself a new favorite sport.
"Not in the foreseeable future, I'm afraid."
Finn grinned at him, clapping him on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
This was the end of an era. Artie didn't have much of a summer awaiting him, as his new college team started up their practices prior to the first semester beginning. He'd have to report to campus in July. Artie couldn't help but feel that the past eighteen years of his life had gone by too fast. Sometimes he wished he could have an extra year to spend with everyone he loved before he had to pack up and leave.
The McKinley High auditorium was filled with the graduates' friends and family members, anxiously waiting for the ceremony to begin. The graduates were dressed in their red caps and gowns, seated behind a curtain at the back of the room. When Principal Figgins called their name, each graduate was able to make their grand entrance from behind the curtain and march down the stairs and onto the stage to the sound of thunderous applause. It was quite the production.
While he was a star on the field, at the end of the day, soccer was a team sport. Artie wasn't used to the individual attention that came along with being on a stage, under a giant spotlight, with everyone's eyes on you. His palms were beginning to sweat just thinking about it. Luckily, having a last name like 'Abrams' made it so that he wasn't able to dwell on it for long. On the alphabetical list of the William McKinley High School's graduating class of 2012, he was up first.
"And now we honor our graduates," Principal Figgins could be heard bellowing into the microphone. "Starting with... Arthur Henry Abrams."
"Go get 'em, man!" Finn encouraged him, slapping Artie on the back as he scrambled to his feet. He paused for a moment before he drew the curtain back to greet the crowd, making his way into the audience for his long-awaited walk down the aisle.
The crowd roared as everyone turned their heads to look in his direction. Artie tried not to let his surprise appear on his face, but he could feel the tips of his ears turning red at all of the attention solely dedicated to him. He walked down the stairs, ultra-focused on not tripping over his own feet, while also trying to soak in this moment. He'd just narrowly missed the Valedictorian race (he'd landed just outside the top ten students in his graduating class, plus his attendance hadn't been perfect because he'd missed a few days due to traveling for soccer), which he'd been pretty bummed about in the moment, but he still knew that he had a lot to be proud of.
"Arthur will be attending Ohio State University on an athletic scholarship to play soccer," Principal Figgins informed the crowd, who seemed to cheer even louder.
As he neared the stage, Artie spotted a couple of familiar faces. Noah Puckerman was there, for one. Puck had quit soccer with Finn to join the football team once they got to high school, but they'd had a major falling out sophomore year when Finn's Cheerio girlfriend, Quinn, cheated on him with Puck and ended up pregnant. It was a lot of drama that Artie tried not to get himself too caught up in, but he did feel horribly for his best friend, especially after Finn's former girlfriend and former friend decided to promptly couple up and raise this baby together. Puck had dropped out of school after sophomore year so that he could work to support their little family, but he was here today– bouncing a smiley two-year-old girl with blonde pigtails on his lap– as they waited for Quinn to cross the stage.
Artie's parents and Amy sat just a few rows back from the front, cheering wildly. His father had this proud look on his face as he clapped, his mom was crying, and his sister was holding up a homemade sign. Artie gave them a little wave before he skipped up the stairs that lead to the stage.
Artie shook Principal Figgins' hand, then stuck his hand out to Ms. Pillsbury, the school's quirky guidance counselor who was the one distributing diplomas. After she handed him the rolled-up piece of paper he'd worked so hard for, he turned to the audience that had gathered in the auditorium that day and pumped his arm in the air in celebration. He'd done it!
He had woken up clammy, in cold sweat. As often happened following such a vivid walking dream, Artie's actual legs throbbed with the phantom pains he only experienced in these specific moments, after one of his "walking dreams," as he had dubbed them. He closed his eyes, knowing he would have to get out of bed in a few minutes, which would mean tugging his chair closer to the bed, placing his cold, lifeless feet in the footrests, and hoisting himself into the chair to go about the usual routine that made up over half of his young life now. Before doing that, he lingered on the memory of the red cap and gown, of striding through the aisles proudly to the thundering applause all around him, with Mr. Figgins announcing his soccer scholarship, the result of years of hard work out on the field.
"It isn't fair," he whispered, words he dared not utter in the presence of anyone else, especially Quinn, who had been counting on him to be a beacon of hope these past several months. He whispered again, as tears stung his eyes, the memory of walking down the aisle in his cap and gown just ahead of Finn and the others still haunting him. He felt like the Rachel Berry in his dream. He just wanted more. "It isn't fair."
Coming home from their big win – yes, at last, the title of National Show Choir Champions belonged to them – the New Directions could finally enjoy the spoils. They assembled together before the bell, so as to enter the halls as one big team. The whole school knew by now. Instead of the usual ridicule that awaited them, they were met with huge banners and cheers. Someone was carrying a huge tray of slushees, but rather than ice-cold corn syrup, the cups were filled with red confetti. A face full of confetti was much better!
This seemed more like a dream than the very vivid glimpse into an alternate reality that Artie had experienced the night before. But it was really happening. They were actually being greeted as heroes that day.
"I think I might actually be feeling good about senior year next year," said Tina, who had chosen a short, fitted red dress and heels that day, her hair in soft curls, looking like she was already campaigning for next year's Homecoming Queen title. "Can you believe it? We'll be starting off the year as winners. The universe has shifted."
"Yeah." That was all Artie said as he wheeled to his locker and opened it, to get the book he needed for his first class. As he did this, he felt Tina's hand on his shoulder. The others had all dispersed, leaving them alone in the moment. Tina had a way of knowing when something was bothering him, without him even saying much. Or maybe that was the issue, that he wasn't saying much.
"Why aren't you more excited?" she asked, kneeling down and picking a piece of stray red confetti off his knee. He just looked down at his khaki-clad knee and back up at her. She frowned at his empty expression. "What? What is it?"
He sighed and closed his locker. "Just struggling to deal with the seniors leaving in a week, I guess," he said. "Leaving us behind." When I was supposed to be leaving with them.
Tina frowned. "It's them I feel sorry for," she said. "We're the ones who get to ride out this wave of newfound popularity." As if making her point, she waved to a group of Cheerios passing by. Three of them were the ones who went with them to Nationals to dance in 'Edge of Glory.' Tina lingered on their retreating forms for a moment, before turning back to Artie and saying, "Maybe I'll try out for Cheerios next year."
Artie cracked a smile. He was picturing the weird zombie corpse Cheerio outfit she'd sported, way back when she'd briefly suspected Mike of cheating on her with Brittany. "Don't you dare."
Tina frowned at him, hands on her hips, still psychoanalyzing him in that obnoxiously perceptive way of hers. "Have you really dealt with the fact that Quinn's leaving?"
"Have you dealt with the fact that your boyfriend is going to Chicago, where he'll be surrounded by female dancers?" Artie turned the question back on her without even thinking, and when he realized by the look on Tina's face that he'd probably just ruined her day, he was very sorry for what he'd said. "No. Ugh, sorry. That just came out of nowhere, Tina. I didn't mean to say that."
She shifted her weight, wearing a rather pinched expression, the face she made when she was trying very hard not to cry. Consequently, he knew she really couldn't speak. She just gave him a quick nod and a pursed lip before spinning quickly on her heels and edging her way through the sea of students, the crowd making it impossible for him to follow.
He sighed and set his book on hip lap, turning his chair and focusing his attention on getting though the halls to get to his homeroom. On the way there, he did receive several pats on the shoulder and several "congratulations," from various students and teachers, lots of them people he didn't even know. Definitely a record number of people actively trying to touch him and acknowledge him today. It should have made him happy. It didn't. The dream, and now the knowledge that he'd upset his best friend for no reason, relentlessly plagued him.
When lunch finally rolled around, it was even more evident that the social hierarchy at McKinley had indeed been rearranged to include the Glee kids at the top. People were eating out in the courtyard today, since the spring weather was perfect. Everyone in Glee club was huddled around the same table, with the Cheerios who had gone to Nationals included, along with several other members of the Cheerios as well.
Artie had been wheeling next to Mercedes, who carried both of their trays. They both took in the bizarre sight as they approached the others, neither one able to pick their respective jaws up off the ground. Tina was already there, deep in conversation with the new Glee Cheerios. When she noticed Artie, she gave him a dirty look before turning her attention back to her new friends.
"What'd you do?" Mercedes asked, knowingly, as she set both of their trays down on the picnic table and Artie parked his chair in the empty space between the attached benches.
"I said something insensitive this morning," Artie confessed, with a huge sigh. "Can we just leave it at that? It's bad enough that I said it, I don't want to say it again."
"Okay, not even gonna ask you to, but why are there problems right now?" Mercedes wanted to know, as she took a seat next to him, ignoring everyone else at the table to focus on Artie, her brow furrowed with concern. "This is a happy time. We just won Nationals. Everyone wants to bask in our light..."
And to make her point, Mercedes gestured to their surroundings, at all the people who had chosen to celebrate alongside them today.
"I am happy," Artie insisted. "And I'm glad you're not dating Kurt, really–" Mercedes' eyes went wide at this random comment. "– well, you were... dating him. Or giving the appearance of doing so anyway. In the... in the dream I had last night."
Mercedes was a good person to open up to. She was one of the few people around who remembered him before his accident. She'd been in the same class as him during third grade, round one, and she remembered his attempt at coming back. Therefore, he realized, she might not be shocked to hear about the dream that had been bothering him since he'd woken up that morning.
She leaned in. "What sort of dream?"
Artie sighed, stabbing his mystery meat burrito that looked like it might have come from the dive in Chicago that gave Mercedes food poisoning. "Just..." Artie was selective on the amount of detail he wished to share. "... just a dream about graduation. I was graduating. With the rest of you. Like I was supposed to do." Stab, went his fork again.
Mercedes leaned in to hug him around his shoulders. He knew her plans were to move to L.A. and pursue a career as a recording artist after high school. Out of everyone he knew, she was taking what could be viewed as perhaps the biggest risk. But if anyone could do it, Mercedes could.
"I don't know if there's anything I can say to help," she confessed, giving his shoulders a tighter squeeze before releasing him and drawing back. "I don't want to tell you to be glad you have another year, because clearly that's not how you feel right now, and that's okay. I'm sorry you feel like you're supposed to be graduating with us and you're not."
He nodded. "Thanks..." Trailing off, he looked at her plate. A subject change seemed fitting right about now. "I should have gotten the salad bar like you did. This burrito is a bad idea."
Mercedes looked a bit green, just looking at his tray. "After my experience at Nationals, I won't be eating any more mysterious Mexican food in the foreseeable future," she informed him. "And I wouldn't advise eating that, if I were you."
Artie unlocked his breaks. He really didn't want to be at this table, full of happy people, bringing down the mood. So this plate of inedible Mexican food actually gave him the perfect excuse to bail. After asking Mercedes if she'd kindly dump his tray for him, he excused himself to go eat the random snacks he had stashed in his backpack and make a lunch out of those in the back corner of the library. As he headed off towards the ramp of doom (which was still too steep but not quite as bad, now that the weather was warm enough) he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Quinn had glanced up at that exact moment and noticed him leaving.
It was a strange feeling, to be the only person having a bad day in a room full of people having the absolute best day ever. Their usual Glee club meeting after school was attended by their three Cheerio members who had joined the group-within-a-group, the Troubletones, way back when they'd gone to Regionals. Had these girls not been seniors, they probably would have been sticking around as full-fledged members. Maybe this was just the beginning of more and more Cheerios joining them...
Artie snapped out of his reverie when Mr. Schue bounded into the room, carrying their enormous Nationals trophy, which was going to positively tower over their twelfth place one from last year. As whole room burst into cheers and applause, Artie plastered a fake smile across his face and joined in.
He set it down on the floor, however, and gestured instead to several boxes on the piano. "First thing's first," he announced. "I have the caps and gowns here for our seniors..."
He had to pause for another huge cheer and round of applause. This time, the smile faded off of Artie's face and his hands remained still in his lap. A huge lump was forming in his throat. He really hadn't known he'd feel this way, after all those many months of telling people how glad he was to have another year.
Mr. Schue walked around the room, distributing plastic bags that contained folded, red gowns and the little scholarly hats with red tassels and faux-gold trinkets that read '2012.' He passed one over Artie's head, to Finn, and then another one to Puck. Artie immediately looked at his lap. He couldn't stop the tears this time.
"Remember, you need to take these home and steam them to get the wrinkles out," Ms. Pillsbury was saying, as she entered the room. "Congrats, seniors! Go ahead and try them on!"
All around the room, red flashed around him as the seniors donned their gowns. As he swiped at his eyes, he heard someone sobbing loudly behind him. Well, at least he wasn't the only one crying. Tina positively wailed when she saw Mike in his gown. He promptly wrapped her up in a hug, as she buried her face in his shoulder.
"Sorry," she sniffled and hiccuped. "Don't– want– to mess up your gown."
"How about a picture of all the seniors and Mr. Schuester with the Nationals trophy?" Ms. Pillsbury suggested, cheerily. "Everyone... gather up front for a picture when you've got your cap and gown on..."
Artie didn't think he could hold it together, sitting there and watching them all take a photo. He wanted to be mature about this, but inside he was crumbling. He could never slip out of a place unnoticed, but he tried his best. Without a word, he unlocked his breaks and wheeled out the door, purposely keeping his eyes forward and not looking back at anyone on his way out. He heard Tina call his name as he went but ignored her.
After a few minutes in the hall of willing himself to pull it together, he was just about ready to slip back in and make some excuse if anyone asked. But before he could do that, he was joined by Quinn. She said nothing but quietly knelt by his chair. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. She was still wearing that red gown but she'd removed the hat.
"Mercedes told me about your dream," she said, to which Artie remained silent but slowly nodded. "I assume you were walking around in your dream–" He nodded again. "–you know, it's okay for you to say it. That you have some regrets. That you do feel left out. Why can't you tell people?"
He didn't know why he couldn't tell people, or wouldn't tell them. He just preferred to maintain this illusion that he'd adjusted to this life long ago, that it was never possible for his heart to break all over again, because of a sudden reminder of what he'd lost.
"Your grandmother once told me you're very protective of your life before the accident. It was when we were all at the lake house. I'd come across an old picture of your family, and you were standing up. I asked her why you never talked about it. She said you don't like to say things that make others sad for you, so you avoid mentioning things like... well, like soccer."
"She's pretty intuitive," he finally said.
"It's fine to be sad and it's fine to admit it," Quinn told him, shifting her weight, probably struggling to kneel for very long. "You don't have to find a silver lining every time. Sometimes there isn't one. Sometimes it just sucks."
"Yo, Artie, dude?" Finn's sudden appearance startled them both. He took a cautious step back when he saw Artie's face. "Uh... s-sorry. I just came to get you both because we're taking a group picture. You... okay?"
Artie glanced at Quinn before answering. "No... no, not really," he confessed. "It's really hard to watch you all graduate and leave me behind. This was supposed to be my year, too."
Finn nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said, and Artie knew Finn remembered all the times they'd played soccer in his backyard, all the time spent traveling to tournaments, and all the times they'd cheered on their favorite professional teams, prompting Artie to declare his dream of playing professional soccer someday.
"But I'll get over it," he couldn't stop himself from adding that bit of reassurance, for no one liked the pitiful sight of the boy in the wheelchair crying about it. He caught a funny look from Quinn as he unlocked his breaks to head inside, take that picture, and smile, because they wanted him to. "I always do."
At least the others had the sense to remove the caps and gowns before they took the picture of the entire group, which would be hung in the choir room next to their trophy. That way, the picture wouldn't have to serve as yet another reminder for Artie of what he'd lost.
A/N: Special thanks to QuinnAbrams for writing most of the dream!