"Mr. Schue, you can't kick Artie off the team," Tina pleaded. Artie, however, felt like someone had just glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He could not say anything, but only wished that he could wake up, to end this nightmare. He, who never did anything wrong in Mr. Schuester's eyes, had just ruined it all in one moment. Consequently, how could he even argue with his teacher's punishment?
Mr. Schuester narrowed his eyes, looking at Tina, and then turned his attention back to the boy in the wheelchair. "My classroom," he said, sharply, and Artie noticed that his teacher was working to control himself. If Mr. Schue hadn't been a teacher, a professional, he quite possibly might have strangled Artie for this misconduct. With one last helpless glance at Tina and Ms. Pillsbury, Artie gave his wheels a push and followed behind Mr. Schuester as he led the way to his classroom, maintaining a cautious distance.
Wordlessly, the teacher held the door open for his student and watched with the utmost scrunity as the boy parked his chair in front of the desk. Mr. Schuester remained silent as he took a seat behind his desk, creating a rather intimidating barrier between himself and the boy. Artie gulped audibly, not sure how to behave in this situation. He had never once made Mr. Schuester angry. Mr. Schuester only got angry at people like Puck and Rachel, people who liked to create drama. Artie, always the innocent one, hadn't ever been the one to stir up drama. (Well, there was that one time last spring, but that was nothing compared to this.)
"Artie," he began, as Artie braced himself. "I can't even... begin to tell you... how disappointed I am." He spoke slowly, placing special emphasis on his words so that they struck Artie at his core. Artie hung his head in shame and nodded miserably. "I might have expected a comment like that from someone else. But to hear it from you? To hear you say that after everything you've been through with our team? Artie, it just makes no sense. You expect us to treat you like everyone else, correct?"
"I - " But Mr. Schuester wasn't waiting for an answer. He went on as though Artie hadn't started to speak.
"You've always expected to be treated like everyone else," he said, answering his own question. "You made that clear to me day one, Artie. I'll admit now that I had my reservations about you. During our first few practices, I worried about how to work a wheelchair into all of our choreography. But it turned out that I didn't need to worry. You figured that out for yourself. You brought us the band. You were and still are the strongest male vocalist we have, Finn included. Because of your talent, we don't see your disability when we watch you perform. And I know that's how you want it to be. And yet you watched this girl get up on stage, give a truly incredible performance, and still saw nothing more than her disability."
"W-what can I do, Mr. Schuester?" Artie said, swallowing hard. "I... I can't make an excuse for myself because there is no excuse for what I did. I was thinking about wheelchairs and crutches taking away from our performance, I guess, which isn't fair because you guys could have said that all along. But no one ever did. Well, except for the time Rachel commented about me singing Sit Down, You're Rocking the Boat, but that's Rachel. And even Rachel wouldn't have said what I said today."
"You really want to fix this?" Mr. Schuester studied him critically. "Because Artie, I gotta say, it kills me to have you off the team. You're pretty crucial to our success as a team. I can't imagine New Directions without you, and I don't want to. But I'm having an awfully hard time picturing us without Olivia, too."
"So am I," said Artie, truthfully. "That audition... she kind of blew Rachel out of the water."
"Well, we won't tell Rachel that," said Mr. Schuester, tactfully. "But if you really want to fix things, then you'll need this..." He reached for a binder sitting on his desk. As he flipped through the pages, Artie peered across the desk curiously. Mr. Schue was looking through the student information forms that they had all filled out before auditions. He stopped when he got to one form and opened the binder to remove it. He handed Olivia's form to Artie.
"Why are you giving me this?"
"Because," he replied. "You're going to need to offer Olivia a spot on the team in person. Tell her that if she still wants to join us, the spot is hers. And I want it to come from you because it'll be important for you assure to her she's going to fit in just fine here, no matter what her disability. You ought to know that better than anyone by now, Artie. And, for your sake and ours, I hope she agrees. Because if she doesn't join us, you aren't coming back. And that'll be final. But if you can get Olivia to join New Directions, I'll give you your spot back."
Mr. Schuester took the form back, highlighted a line, and handed it to Artie, who looked at him dubiously.
"Her address?"
"It's within walking distance," replied Mr. Schuester, coolly. "I don't think you should waste any time, do you?"
Artie nodded, thinking that it would not be wise of him to correct Mr. Schuester for saying "walking distance," as opposed to rolling distance. All of the standard Artie wise-cracks about wheelchairs were going to be placed on an indefinite hiatus until he could get on his teacher's good side again. He thanked Mr. Schuester for giving him a chance to earn back his spot and promised not to let him down again. Artie hoped he could make good on that promise.
Olivia's house was a mere three blocks away from Artie's, and it was on his way home.
Tina agreed with Mr. Schuester that it was important for Artie to act quickly. She had waited outside Mr. Schuester's classroom while he and Artie talked, and when Artie finally emerged, she'd demanded a full report. Wordlessly, Artie had handed her the form and Tina took note of the highlighted address. "He's right," she'd told Artie. "Talk to her now. Talk to her in person. Want me to come with you? I can come with you."
But Artie knew he needed to go on his own. It would mean more if Artie went to Olivia without an ally. He thanked Tina for being so supportive, kissed her, and promised her that he would fix things. Reassured, Tina had intertwined their fingers, kissed him more deeply, and told him, in her sweetest voice, "For your sake and mine, I hope you do."
For five months now, Artie and Tina had been officially going out. As Mercedes always pointed out, there was no reason why it should have taken them so long. Secrets and lies, however, had gotten in the way of their happiness. But once everything was out in the open, Artie vowed to be completely honest with Tina. He was lucky to have her. And after everything they had been through, he couldn't imagine not having all of the wonderful experiences of glee club to share with Tina.
He was so caught up in his thoughts about Tina that, out of habit, he nearly rolled right past Olivia's house on his way home. But he remembered just in time. As he pushed himself up Olivia's driveway, his nerves began to get the best of him. He imagined ringing the doorbell only to have Olivia answer and slam the door in his face. Then he imagined that Olivia might have an older brother, a jock perhaps, who would be waiting at the door to slushie him. For once, he mused, he would be deserving of that fate.
Instead, a friendly and familiar-looking Hispanic woman answered the door. She took in the sight of Artie in his chair and said, warmly,"Oh, hi, I recognize you. Do you know who I am? You might not know me without my hair net!"
"Oh... aren't you the school lunch lady?" Artie said, blushing because he was worried he might have sounded a bit condescending. Were you supposed to say cafeteria worker? This was not Artie's day to say the right thing, but the woman didn't look upset or offended. Instead, she smiled and nodded.
"That's me," she confirmed, her smile never faltering. "Are you a friend of Olivia's?"
It was then that Olivia appeared behind the woman. She scowled at the sight of Artie and, before Artie could say anything, answered the question herself. "No, mom," she said, callously. "He most certainly is not."
"Mi hija!" Mrs. Ortiz exclaimed, aghast. She began speaking rapidly in Spanish to Oliva, and Oliva fired back, speaking just as quickly. Artie realized, as he struggled to pick out the words he knew, that he was a long way away from being fluent in Spanish. He could tell that they were talking about him, obviously, but that was pretty much all he could gauge. And then Artie felt the scrutiny of Mrs. Ortiz's eyes upon him, and it became clear to him that Olivia had just told her everything.
"Look, Olivia," he began. "I came here to apologize for that. I was wrong, I was stupid. Can I at least come inside and explain myself? Then, if you're still mad, I'll just go. But please, at least listen to what I have to say?"
Olivia glanced at her mother, who ever so slightly nodded. "Fine, come on in," she huffed, annoyed. "You want to talk? Let's talk. I have a few things I'd like to say to you... cripple to cripple."