As it turned out, the snow did keep Quinn home for the rest of January. The homebound teacher came to her house for an entire month, just for a couple of hours each day, to give Quinn her assignments and offer any help she needed. It wasn't what Quinn wanted, but her doctor didn't recommend that she go out in the freezing temperatures just yet. Her newly-injured body was even more susceptible to cold than Artie's, not to mention the hazards that came along with navigating a wheelchair in snow and ice. Hazards that Artie knew all too well.
So, as February loomed ahead, Artie decided to do all he could to prepare the way for Quinn's return to school. He sent a gift card and a note to the custodian as a bribe, thanking them for always salting the ramps on campus, on behalf of their "favorite wheelchair user Artie Abrams." Maybe now they'd remember more than two or three days each week. He saw to it that a few other accessibility issues were handled, namely the dumpster that had been blocking his way into one of the school's entrances since last spring. A note to the principal from his mother took care of that one.
Most importantly, he decided Quinn needed a killer number, to officially announce her return to the Glee club. To make sure she succeeded, he'd show her a little wheelchair choreography and sing a song with her, for moral support. What he hadn't counted on was Quinn's reluctance when he suggested it.
"Artie, I'm not saying it isn't a good idea," she said, as she lay back on the mats during physio, her therapist expertly stretching out her legs. "I just know Glee club is busy right now, what with Regionals right around the corner, and I don't think you all have time for me to do a random number. I think I'd just rather quietly rejoin the club."
Artie tried not to look too disappointed and just nodded. More and more, he'd been going to these appointments for moral support. Today, he passed the time by reading through the script of 'Billy Elliot' and trying to decide if he had the stamina to direct that spring show, like he'd promised Kurt. Of course, first he'd have to get the idea blessed by the school and secure more money from Sugar's daddy. And then there was the question of how a small town in Ohio might react to something as edgy as a show about a boy becoming a male ballet dancer.
Artie glanced between Quinn and his script, checking in periodically to see how she was doing. Today, she was mostly doing strengthening exercises, as the slightest movement had finally begun to return in her hips and thighs. Everything was focused on rebuilding her muscles in preparation for eventually (hopefully) walking again, her therapist was explaining, because if they didn't hit it hard now, atrophy would set in and quickly.
He still recalled the first time he'd heard the word "atrophy" and how he'd first come to understand that his legs would just continue to get smaller and weaker, the longer they went unused. Nine years later, his thin legs were pretty apparent, so he usually tried to hide it with the baggiest pants he could find. He pushed those thoughts aside and tried to go back to reading his script.
"Done!" Ten minutes later, she was red in the face and glistening –not sweating like a dog, like he would have been, because girls were just like that. She retrieved her water bottle and took a long swig. "Ready to get going?"
"Yup," he said, grinning. "Let's get out of here before they put me to work next."
"I have a lot to do before Monday," Quinn commented, as she adjusted her feet in the footrests, moving them ever so slightly on her own. "I was kind of hoping to get a few new outfits for school, too. Really treat it like the first day, you know. Let's go back to my place, so I can freshen up, and then let's... let's go shopping!"
"You want to go shopping?" Artie repeated, surprised because the only places Quinn had been were therapy and home. He realized she was probably dying to get out for awhile, and it would be good practice for school, but there were a few things she wouldn't realize, about going out shopping in a chair. When she nodded and he didn't immediately agree, she tilted her head and looked at him.
"Something wrong?"
"N-no, not exactly..." he trailed off, not sure if he should warn her or just take her out and hope for the best.
So, that was how Artie ended up taking her to Target, on a Friday evening, which was a busy time for the popular store. She'd suggested iced coffees, too, and this Target had a Starbucks in it. Quinn commented that she often just went to Target with no real plan or intention of buying anything in particular. Consequently, these random outings were something she'd missed during her time at home.
The snow was finally melting, giving way to what looked to be an early spring. It was a perfect day for an outing. But, for a wheelchair user, Artie knew all too well that obstacles would always be present. If it wasn't snow and ice, it would be something else. And the first obstacle of the evening presented itself in the parking lot.
"Aw, too bad, that space would have worked," he commented, having been trying to secure the handicap parking space with room for unloading on both sides, so that he and Quinn could both get out. The space was open, but a couple of red shopping carts littered the area meant for getting ones chair in and out of the vehicle. Artie drove on past it.
"I can't believe the nerve of people," Quinn started to say, checking to see why Artie was not also as outraged as she. When she spied his nonplussed expression, she seemingly clued in. "This happens a lot, doesn't it?"
"All the time," Artie said, with a shrug. "People just see the empty space and don't give a second thought as to what it's for. Anyway, I can park in this one with extra space on your side, let you out, and then... get creative with my own exit."
"You sure?" Quinn shot him a doubtful look, but he just nodded and parked the car, turning to help her with getting chair pieces out of the back, knowing that it sometimes hurt her to twist around sharply whenever she tried it on her own.
"I always feel like I'm gonna just go splat on the pavement," she commented, carefully scooting to the edge of the seat and looking down at her waiting chair below.
She stuck her tongue between her teeth and concentrated, half-stepping and half-placing her leg, already more mobile than Artie, thanks in part to her hard work and in part her gradually healing spine. Her other leg shook violently, but Quinn maintained her composure and got back to a seated position. She then looked up at Artie, who was preparing to somehow move to the passenger seat and then get himself and his chair out, in a serious of creative moves. But before he could attempt to throw his legs over the center console, Quinn motioned for him to hold up. She spotted a young employee and wheeled towards the other parking spot, the one blocked by the shopping carts.
"S'cuse me, sir?" he heard her saying, as the employee turned to look at her. "Hi. My friend and I are both in wheelchairs, and these shopping carts are making it really difficult to use these accessible parking spots. Could you move them so we can have that spot?"
The employee naturally apologized right away and immediately moved the carts out of their way. Artie forced a smile in her direction and moved his vehicle into the space they'd originally wanted, which allowed him to get out the usual way. She was waiting for him in front of the store when he finally joined her.
"That wasn't so hard," she commented, cheerfully.
"Yeah," he said, forcibly smiling back. Until you do it a thousand more times, he thought. She seemed to know without him saying anything.
"But it gets old," she supplied his thought out loud as he just nodded emphatically. It was the same reason why he usually didn't go out of his way to call out the various obstacles and injustices at school. So many injustices and so little time.
"Coffee or shopping first?" he asked.
"Shopping," she said. "Because I've been thinking and I really need some pants. Not dresses. I think I'd give everyone an accidental peep show if I wore some of my usual dresses. Artie, you're blushing."
"Well, I mean, it's the same reason I don't wear dresses," he teased, as they pushed off side by side in the direction of women's clothes, speaking comfortably to one another at eye-level.
"The problem is, I've only really figured out how to put on sweatpants," she confessed, as they stopped next to the racks. She gestured to the pink sweatpants she was currently sporting. "And I don't want to show up to school in my sweatpants."
As Quinn thumbed through the racks of pants, Artie thought back to the look she'd sported when she first came back from California. "You're not, by chance, on the lookout for black ripped jeans, studded belts, and crop tops to show off that tattoo of Ryan Seacrest, are you?"
She flushed crimson at that. "Absolutely not," she said, probably pretending to be really interested in the rack of pants so that she didn't have to look at him. "No... that's... not me. And it never was. I just wanted to, I don't know, to shock people I guess. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done. I mean, besides sleeping with Puck."
"Hey, but if you hadn't gone through your Skank phase, we never would have gotten to know, uh... Shelia and Ronnie and-and... Mack."
Memories of Mack snuck up in him now, at the most inopportune moments. More than once, he'd had to excuse himself from government class because he couldn't stand the sight of her empty chair. Quinn noticed how his tone changed and moved closer to place a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm glad she got to know you," Quinn said. "I don't think we've talked about her in... a long time. Are you doing okay?"
"I just..." he searched for the words. "I want to remember her, but when I think of her, all the memories I have – like memories from when we went to school together as kids – they just get overshadowed by the pain of losing her so suddenly. I never lost anyone like that before."
"Me neither," Quinn said. She dropped her gaze to lap, then wheeled as close as she could to him, angling herself so their knees didn't collide and reached over for a hug. "Hard to do this with us both sitting but it looked like you needed a hug so..."
"Thanks." Artie had to talk about something else or he'd started crying right there in Target. He shifted his gaze back to the rack of pants. "It seems like all they have are skinny jeans."
"That's what's in style," she said, following his lead on the subject change. "For girls and guys, too. You should try some, you know, slimmer, uh, fitting... pants."
Artie recognized an attempt at style advice when he heard one. "Maybe," he said, surveying his own baggy khakis. "I'd probably be better off just buying my size and taking them back if they don't fit. Trying stuff on in fitting rooms is not my favorite."
She brightened at this. "So, you're saying you'll try some if I pick something for you?"
Artie threw his head back, exasperated, and rolled his eyes. "Yes, but not promising I'll keep them," he said. "You sound just like Amy. Stop being my sister."
"Sorry," Quinn said, but she couldn't hide how pleased she was, that he'd even consider letting her shop for him. She selected a few pairs of skinny jeans for herself and Artie noticed one pair with an elastic waist.
"These are probably going to be your best bet," he said, indicating the pair that would be relatively easier to put on. "Lots to think about when you're buying clothes and stuff. Probably the hardest thing I ever put on were those knee-high boots during the week we did Kiss and Gaga."
"I was pretty proud of myself for pulling off the pink Gaga dress while being seven months pregnant," she recalled, smiling at the memory. "It's weird how I don't look back on that year and cringe. I mean, teen pregnancy or no teen pregnancy, it was probably my favorite year of high school. God knows this year wasn't..."
"It was my favorite, too," Artie agreed. "Mostly because I'd never had anything I could call my thing before then. Well, not since soccer anyway..."
A brief silence followed, as Artie reflected on just how many times his distant past now crept into his conversations with Quinn. For the first time, it felt appropriate and even normal to talk about his life Before with someone outside of the family.
"Well, let's go see if I can wrestle these pants on," Quinn said, leading the way as he followed her towards the fitting rooms. As expected, obstacle number two presented itself there.
"Oh..." said the fitting room attendant, looking perplexed. "I'm so sorry, I just let someone in the handicap fitting room."
"Oh, why, did they need it?" was Quinn's challenging response. Artie suppressed an eye roll, since he wouldn't have done that. The girl, who couldn't have been more than eighteen, just looked terrified of getting fired as she shook her head slowly.
"That's okay, we'll wait," Artie said, indicating with his head for Quinn to follow him. When they were out of earshot, he decided to just say it. "Quinn, you'll never change the world, okay? So it's better to just let it go. Better for you anyway."
"Better for me how?" she snapped, reminding Artie so much of his mother and sister, who often took up similar causes on his behalf.
And so he just smiled patiently. "Well, what is she going to do about it?"
"Think twice about it the next time," Quinn shot back. "And what's wrong with trying to change the world, one person at a time?"
"Would you have even thought twice about it if you weren't in a chair yourself?" Artie asked innocently, and he had her at that. She held his gaze for a beat, then sighed and finally shook her head.
Five minutes later, the perpetrator emerged from the stall. Tina did a double take when she saw them both waiting for her to leave. The sight of Quinn in her chair must have startled her, because she suddenly made her cry face and teared up on the spot. Either that, or she just felt really bad about being caught using the accessible changing room.
"Quinn, oh my gosh, you're..." Tears spilled over as she struggled to find the words, looking back and forth between them both. She settled on leaning over to hug Quinn. "I'm so glad you'll be coming back to school. Are you gonna come to Glee?"
Quinn nodded enthusiastically as Tina drew back and wiped her eyes. "I can't wait to see what you guys have been working on for Regionals," she said. "I'm... I'm just gonna watch."
"Are you sure?" Tina sniffled. "Because I could make an extra dress for you, just in case! I mean, Artie's already proven that people in wheelchairs can totally be in show choir."
"Oh, he sure has," Quinn agreed, acknowledging him with a sidelong grin. "But what with it being like, what, a week away? You guys can't possibly work me in, and I understand that. I'm just... glad to be going back."
And she was also terrified, Artie knew that, for he remembered the same fear both times from his own experiences.
"Sorry about taking your changing room," Tina said. Then, catching Artie's eye, she added. "I know, I know, I should know better."
Artie didn't have to say anything. Yeah, she should, but he also knew it happened all the time, and that nine-times-out-of-ten, there wasn't an actual wheelchair user being kept waiting. At any rate, he didn't fault Tina for the oversight. She still looked plenty embarrassed as she excused herself and scampered away.
"See you Monday, Quinn!" she called.
Quinn shot Artie a meaningful look that he couldn't interpret. When he didn't say anything, she giggled.
"What?"
"Tina still likes you, Artie," she said, giving him a knowing smirk.
Artie looked over his shoulder at Tina's retreating form, then turned back to Quinn and gave her a look that plainly said she had lost her mind. "What gave you that idea?" he asked, bewildered. "She's with Mike. She's probably going to marry Mike and have little Asian babies..."
"Isn't Mike going to some ballet school in Chicago next year?" Quinn asked, innocently. When Artie just nodded, and still looked mystified, she continued. "My point being, most couples fail at doing the long-distance thing, especially when one of them's in college and the other's in high school." She shrugged. "Something to think about."
"Uh, except that no, it isn't," he shot back, not sure why that comment made him so defensive. "Besides, I'd always be second to Mike."
And Quinn just gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry you see it that way," she told him, as she adjusted the pile of pants on her lap, plus a few tops she'd selected to match them, and pivoted her chair to head towards the open door. "Because if you could see what I just saw, you'd understand that if anything, Mike's second to you."
What? She crazy. Artie replayed the brief interaction with Tina over and over again while he waited for Quinn, trying to figure out what exactly Quinn had noticed. She was taking forever, and Artie needed to visit the restroom, so he finally called to her and told her he'd meet her at the Starbucks after.
"Okay, but meet me in the men's section instead!" she called out. "Ugh, this is so much trouble, Artie, I see why you don't like using the fitting rooms."
"Yup!" Artie just wheeled off, amused by all these little experiences through someone else's eyes. He was finding it oddly kind of fun to share these moments, even the frustrating ones.
By the time he finished in the restroom and made his way back to the men's clothing section, she still wasn't back yet. For a split second, he wondered if he should go check on her and make sure she'd managed okay. And then he spotted her, approaching with a few of the tops and a couple new pairs of pants.
"Got the elastic waist ones you suggested," she reported. "I thought it might be kind of fun to pick some new stuff for you. You know, kind of film school sheik? It's almost the end of your junior year, so hopefully you've figured out where you want to apply..."
"Film... school... sheik?" he echoed, finding Quinn's justification for wanting to change his wardrobe amusing. "Uh, yeah. Okay. If you say so. But I'm taking whatever it is you want me to get home to try on, okay?"
And that was how Artie ended up with a couple of pairs of slim brown pants and a couple button-down shirts with interesting, somewhat retro patterns. It wasn't a far cry from what he usually wore, but Quinn had selected something with just enough style to look like he'd put thought into it himself. He had a feeling that he wouldn't take the clothes back.
After they'd checked out with their new wardrobe pieces, it was time for a little refreshment. As they headed over to the Starbucks to wait in line, Quinn seemed to notice something that maybe she'd already seen but just hadn't pointed out until then.
"People sure do stare," she observed.
"Yeah, at our hotness."
"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Obviously, that's what I meant."