A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Because, contrary to popular belief, I do not have a heart of stone, this fic will end happily. BECAUSE DARN IT, THOSE TWO DESERVE NOTHING LESS, AM I RIGHT?

That night at dinner, Tina pushed her spaghetti Bolognese around her plate with her fork. She didn't at all feel like eating, not with the kind of day she'd had. What she reallywanted to do was just cry and talk to someone about it, but she didn't really have a best girl friend. If she called Rachel, the girl would just whine about being treated unfairly by Mr. Schue and why doesn't Finn love me and do you think we could do "La Vie Boheme" for a competition piece? It would be all Tina could do not to throw up right there.

And talk to her parents? Forget it. She had already tried earlier today, and it went as follows:

TINA: [Exasperatedly] Mom, I've got a problem—

TINA'S MOM: [Stands, suddenly frightened] Is it about the AP History test you have this Thursday? Are you worried about it? You really have to make at least a 96 to keep your grade in that class above a 98, Tina. Should I get your father to tutor you in it?

TINA: [Annoyed] No, it's not that, it's—

TINA'S MOM: [Relieved, sits back down] Oh, good. We wouldn't want that, would we?

She glanced at her parents, deep in conversation about some important business transaction they'd have to get done by next Friday, and darned if she was gonna listen to them ignore her. Standing up, she said, "I'm not hungry. I'm just… gonna go to my room."

"Sure, dear," her father said, smiling one of his 'whatever' smiles.

xoxoxo

Three Artie-less days later, Tina was in Ceramics. They were working on things that they were going to give to someone special in their life. Tina had sculpted a heart with two big wheels on either side. She was planning on giving it to Artie, who was also in the class. Usually he sat next to her, but lately he had taken to the table at the other end of the room.

The teacher was calling people up so he could see their projects and grade them on it. When he called Tina's name, she sighed, picked up the heart, and headed toward the front of the class. But she didn't see the giant cord right in front of her, and her foot got caught in it. Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion: she tripped (almost comically), the heart fell out of her hands, and hit the ground, shattering into two pieces, almost down the middle.

Staring at the project, she finally started to cry, right there in the middle of second period. It was simply the straw that broke the camel's back. She was sick of not talking to her best friend, tired of pretending like she didn't care he hated her.

As she cried, she felt something bump her knee. She opened her eyes and looked up to see a smile she hadn't seen in five days. "Hey, it's okay," Artie said. "Mr. Nowell's got some glue that'll fix anything."

She stood slowly and blinked, confused. "But… Artie, I—you—"

He shook his head. "Don't say anything until I say I'm sorry." She tilted her head, and he scratched the back of his sheepishly. "I, uhm, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been all pissy like I was. You told me the truth and I really appreciate that."

She almost wanted to laugh, not caring about all the people who had now started staring at the two of them. "Really?"

He smiled at her. "Really really. Now come on, let's fix that heart of yours."

As Artie helped Tina repair her heart, she realized that Mr. Drake was half-right. Yeah, you can break down anything you make. But you can also put it back together again.

All together now: AWWWWWWWWWWWW. Closure time? Yes, I think so.