Artie's idea for his second photo shoot would have to wait until Friday. Because on the next day, which was Thursday, Tina said she wanted to go ahead and get the cover shot done. This was going to be a posed picture in the locker-room that included the entire group. All the confidence he'd gained during his private shoot with Kitty disappeared, once he was faced with the idea of doing the group shot.

He'd gone through all the pictures Kitty had taken of him the previous night. Out of the massive amount of photos, he liked exactly two of them. One was him with the white tank and his glasses. The way he'd put his arms up, his head in his hands, showcased his biceps really well. The white tank hid any problem areas on his stomach. His smile looked natural and relaxed in this one. And, when he had his glasses on, he looked more like himself. There was another one that was okay too, one of the ones where his glasses and shirt were off. But he had a feeling he wouldn't like his bare upper body quite as much when he thumbed through the calendar and found himself between the two good-looking new guys in the club, Mr. June (Jake) and Mr. August (Ryder).

Now he was faced with the task of being photographed right next to them. He arrived to the shoot already wearing his "costume." The most spacious handicap stall belonged to the restroom on the first floor, so he'd opted to change there rather than struggle with changing in the handicap stall in the locker-room, which was more cramped. He was glad he'd done that, because when he arrived clad in the shorts and tank, the girls were already setting up and the guys were changing like they weren't even there. Coach Beiste had allowed the girls into the guys-only space that day, but she probably should have realized that all modesty would go out the window. Only Brittany, Tina, Kitty, and Sugar were conducting today's photo shoot. Understandably, Unique didn't want to be there. Out of solidarity, Marley had stayed out of the guys' locker-room as well.

"We're using the green screen today so we can superimpose the picture onto a background," Tina announced. "Lauren said she would help us clean it up. Artie, I put the bench right there for you. Can you balance okay on that?"

"Sure," he said, stuffing down his true feelings. Tina had promised him she'd keep his chair out of the shots, if that was what he wanted, but she'd missed the whole point. His chair wasn't what he was ashamed of. It was literally just his body that he didn't want to put on display.

The other issue? He just didn't want to look different than the rest. For all he'd preached to Kitty about embracing being different, he couldn't always practice it. It just wasn't an easy thing for a high schooler to do. Being right beside them in a photo like this, it would be hard not to compare.

He caught Kitty's eye right after he'd finished sliding his way down the bench. Tina promptly grabbed his chair and moved it out of the shot and out of his reach. Artie had to keep his hands by his sides to maintain his balance on a slat of wood with no back. He could still see Kitty studying him, out of the corner of his eye, and he was beginning to care a lot about whatever it was she thought of him now. He certainly couldn't read her, which drove him crazy.

The rest of the girls ignored him and worked on arranging the rest of the guys behind the bench. Sam was going to stand in the middle, it was decided, with two guys on either side of him. No one else had a shirt on. No one else was sitting. As the only seated one wearing a tank top, Artie was going to stick out like a sore thumb. He removed his glasses and handed them to Tina. At least that was one way he could keep from looking different.

It was like Kitty read his mind.

"Someone else should sit by Artie," she said. "Blaine, why don't you sit on his left. And Jake, you sit on his right so we can see your, uh, Jake-O-Lantern better."

They re-adjusted and Artie felt marginally less singled out, not being alone on the bench as the only person who couldn't stand. He shot a tentative smile in Kitty's direction, which she returned. Now there were three guys in the front and three in the back, which was much better, composition-wise. But Kitty wasn't done.

"And Blaine, don't you have a Santa jacket that came as part of your suit?" Kitty asked. "I think you should put it on. Leaves a little mystery."

Blaine obliged immediately, and as luck would have it, he'd brought the Santa jacket along with him. Now Artie wasn't the only clothed one. And, if that surprised him, what happened next was downright shocking.

"You can't really tell I'm a football player for September, since I'm standing in the back," Sam said. "I'll, uh, I'll go get my jersey out of my locker. Then we can really represent McKinley."

What was happening? Now three out of the six guys had something covering them on top, and Artie would have never in a million years counted on Sam to do that. He was the one going on and on about "not losing his pump" and manscaping and all the other things that had been so important to him earlier in the week. As he retrieved his jersey and rejoined the picture, now fully covered, he caught Artie's eye. It was then that Artie realized someone, either Tina or Blaine or maybe the both of them, had tipped Sam off about how Artie felt.

"Ryder's taller than me," Sam added, when he got back to his row with Ryder and Joe. "He should stand in the middle. Then it'll balance out the shirts and the skins."

No one had to make Artie laugh to get a real smile out of him this time. He felt kind of cool now, sitting there with his bros, old ones and new ones alike. The men of McKinley, the guys of Glee.

"Gays of Glee, I can hear it now," Blaine muttered through clenched teeth, as they all smiled for the camera. "It's totally gonna get defaced."

When the shoot ended and he could return to his chair, Artie caught up with Sam on the way out, in the hallway. "Hey, Sam?" He coasted to a stop as the other guy turned around. "Hey. Listen, I just wanted to say thank you. I know you wanted to show off your body for the calendar, but you put on a shirt because of me. Did Blaine or Tina tell you?"

"Blaine mentioned you talked to him about it..." Sam looked apologetic, like maybe he wasn't sure Blaine should have told him. But Artie was glad he did. It saved him from saying it again. "I didn't think about it bothering you before Blaine told me. You act pretty confident most of the time. I didn't know it would make you feel bad about yourself. I'm glad Kitty suggested the idea for a couple other guys to wear shirts. And for more of us to be sitting in the picture. If it makes you want to be a part of the project, then it's all good."

Artie grinned. "It helped a lot," he said. "Hey, and I might even lose the shirt in one of my individual pictures. We took a few with a shirt and a few without, so I'm still deciding which one."

"I'm going to put one back on for mine tomorrow," he said. "We already did my sexy leprechaun shirtless but for my football player picture, the jersey looks better anyway."

Artie appreciated the explanation but he knew Sam was really just doing this in solidarity. And that meant a lot to him.

"You could lift up your arms like you're catching the ball and let your shirt ride up to show off your abs," Artie suggested, before playing his words back and shaking his head. "This is the officially the gayest conversation we've ever had."

"And we're in glee club," Sam added. "That's saying something."

Artie nodded nervously. "I'm... gonna go now."

"Good idea," Sam said, flashing a big grin. "See you later, Artie."


For Friday's photoshoot, Artie was going to brave colder temps by stripping down outside in early November. What was he thinking, right? But would just be for a second, though, and then he'd pile sweats back on top of himself and go inside.

As he'd told Sam, he was maybe going to lose the shirt in one picture but not the other. He was also going to lose the chair in one picture but not the other. After some soul-searching, he decided the chair was going to stay for Mr. November's photo. Since basketball season started in November, he was going to represent that in his old jersey and shorts from the Hulks, the adaptive basketball team he'd been on with Jon, in the impressive green sport chair with the slanted wheels that his dad had gotten for him.

He'd been wearing his uniform under his sweats, literally dusting off the green chair while sitting in his usual chair in the driveway when Kitty arrived. Free of her Cheerios uniform, she wore a silver puffer jacket, dark skinny jeans, and a colorful beanie with a ponytail threaded through a hole in the top.

"Wow, is that yours?" Kitty asked, as she walked up the driveway with the camera in hand. She'd gotten a ride from Tina, who was on her way to meet up with Mr. January. Artie looked up just as Tina was driving off, evidently in too big of a hurry to stop and talk.

"My dad got it for me a couple years ago when I started playing wheelchair basketball," Artie explained, as he grabbed another disposable wipe and discarded the used one in a small plastic sack. "I feel bad that it's just going to be sitting here, gathering dust for awhile, since I probably don't have time to play any during senior year."

"Can I help?" Kitty asked, as he nodded and handed her the container of wipes. Never in a million years would he expect to be sitting here with the pretty, popular sophomore cleaning his chair. He stared for a second as he watched her wipe down the axels on the wheels.

She noticed, her ponytail whipping from one side of the hat to the other as her head turned in his direction and her eyebrows went way, way up. She was clearly amused to have caught him gawking at her.

"Why the change of heart?" she asked, curiously. "About being photographed in a wheelchair? I didn't think you wanted that."

"I never said that," Artie clarified. It was true, he hadn't ever said that was the problem. Tina just misunderstood and thought that it was. "I just didn't like looking, you know... different from the other guys."

He'd been struggling with the fact that she'd kissed him right after saying she wanted something different. She didn't mean him, did she? She didn't view guys like Jake Puckerman and even Ryder as dangerous and risky and guys like him as safe, did she? Was that what it was? God, he wanted to talk about that kiss. And they were even alone now, for the second time that week.

They finished cleaning the chair and he lined them up to move himself from one chair to the other, a relatively simple transfer. Kitty shook her head.

"You make that look easy," she commented.

"It usually is," Artie explained, as he removed his jacket and then worked his way out of the sweatpants. He handed the clothes to Kitty, who folded them up and set them on a shelf in the garage. "Sometimes it isn't. If I'm tired, if I'm moving from a low plain to a high plain, it can be tricky, but... usually it's fine. I had a lot of physical therapy to get comfortable with transfers, to the point that I don't even think about it much. Here, toss me that ball."

Kitty obliged, as Artie caught her pass, turned towards the cemented goal post with the adjustable hoop brought down a little closer to his vantage point, and took a shot. He was pleased to have made it on the first try. He turned around just as she started clicking away with the camera.

"Action shots," she explained, as she retrieved the ball for him and handed it back to him. "But let's do some posed ones, too, before you mess up your hair."

"Glasses or no glasses?" Artie asked.

Kitty shrugged. "Makes no difference," she said, stepping towards him and scruntinizing him. "Maybe no glasses? Just to avoid a glare from the lenses and to keep from hiding your blue eyes."

"That's what I was thinking, too," he said, handing his glasses to her while smiling at her comment about his baby blues. She promptly put them on and cringed.

"Damn, you're blind!" she commented.

He laughed. "I know, blind and a crip," he said, in that self-deprecating style that he never strayed far from. "At least my hearing's good. And you look cute in glasses."

He was experimenting now, seeing what he could get away with saying to her. It made her blush. "So do you."

Now he was the one blushing, as she prepared to take his picture and he adjusted his pose.

"So... give me... sexy Dirk Nowitzki in a wheelchair!" Kitty exclaimed, making him laugh again by thinking of the first white player that vaguely resembled Artie that came to mind. She captured his reactions. "Turn around like you're taking a shot now, but smile over your shoulder at me."

Artie obliged. "I'm not usually good at taking direction," he confessed. "I like being in charge and having all the ideas. But you have good ideas, too."

"Your idea for this photoshoot was better," Kitty said. "It doesn't involve a turkey, for one thing. Or a sexy pilgrim." And she got another picture just as he laughed at that.

He was freezing now, though he didn't want to say anything about it, since he wanted her to get a good picture. Luckily, after about five minutes, she had all she needed. "That's a wrap!"

"Great," he said, tossing her the ball after she'd packed the camera away in its bag. Her reactions were quick, thanks to Cheerios, and she caught it. "Wanna play?"

She immediately dribbled. "Sure."

"Not like that, that's not fair," he pointed out, with a nod to his regular chair. "Like that. Have a seat."

"Aren't you notoriously weird about people sitting in it when you're not?" Kitty asked, as she looked from the chair to him, uncertainly.

"I make certain exceptions," he said, shrugging. "My close friends can. I don't care."

"So, we're close..." Kitty said, grinning as she took a seat and carefully placed her feet in the footrests. It seemed like she was getting at the very same thing he was getting at, as well as giving him permission to talk about it.

"So close that I'm pretty sure you kissed me in my car like, over a week ago, yet you're scared to say anything about it," he clapped back.

"Oh, I'm scared?" she said, with a laugh.

"Yeah," he said, rolling forward and stealing the ball without warning, snatching it right out of her hands. "Scared I'll beat you!"

He took a shot that went right over her head and straight into the net, plus he retrieved the ball before it bounced out of his driveway. As he wheeled with it in his lap, she looked puzzled.

"Isn't that called traveling?"

"Not in wheelchair basketball," Artie explained. "Dribbling is out of the question, so if you want to steal the ball, you ram someone with your chair. It's more violent than people realize."

"Sounds intense!" She wheeled right at him but stopped short of ramming his chair, pulling back on the wheels and doubling over with laugher. "And I can't make myself do that!"

"And you call yourself mean," he teased, taking another shot over her head. He retrieved it, wheeled her way, and handed her the ball. "Take a shot, see what you think."

Kitty accepted the ball and cast an uncertain look at the hoop. "I'm short, so I've never really played, except with my brothers. Here goes." She hurled it upwards from her seat and laughed when it barely grazed the bottom of the net, landing in the grass. "Way harder than it looks!"

"That's what I thought at first too," Artie confessed. "Probably why it took me so long to start playing. My friend Jon – he graduated last year but he used a wheelchair some of the time and crutches most of the time – he played and got me to join his team a couple years ago."

"Is it cheating if I stand up to go get it?" Kitty asked.

"Sure, but do it anyway," he said, as she hopped up to go after the ball. "I'm freezing my ass off out here, actually. Wanna go in and have some hot chocolate or something?"

It was chilly and getting even colder, and since they were done but Tina wasn't back to get her yet, he'd known they were probably gonna go inside. And, he'd made peace with the idea, deciding that his home was probably the best place for him to get to know Kitty. Plus, he was home alone. He'd made sure to straighten up the living room and the kitchen, as well as check the cleanliness of the hall bath, since those were the only spaces inside she'd need to occupy.

"Sure." She gestured at his usual chair, which she'd just vacated. "Want this back?"

"Sure." He moved from one seat to the other again and then showed her where he stashed the 'Green Hulk' chair. Til next time, old friend, he thought, as she carefully situated it next to the camping chairs and the cooler.

Artie enlisted Kitty's help with making their hot chocolate, giving her mugs and asking her to heat up the water in the microwave while he retrieved the mix. His parents weren't home, which meant they had the place to themselves.

"My parents put everything in reach except for the microwave," Artie explained. "I have my own in my room. We've fought about for years, but ultimately, they want the counter space more than my happiness." He grinned to show her he wasn't actually serious, he was just being dramatic.

"If they're half as bossy as you, I'm sure you butt heads all the time," Kitty said, smirking as she took the hot waters out of the microwave and set them on the counter. "But it's cool that everything's else been arranged to be where you can reach it and you can fit your chair under this kitchen island. That's pretty nice."

"Remodeling the kitchen and adding the pool were two of the things my family did after my accident to help me adapt," he said. "I was just glad we didn't have to move."

Something he'd said struck a nerve again. Oh, yeah, the accident. It bothered her when he mentioned it, apparently reminding her of whatever had happened to her mom, whenever it was. He made a mental note to stray away from that topic as they mixed their cocoa in silence.

"Want marshmallows?" he asked, when he finally spoke up again.

"Yes, please."

Once the cocoa was prepared, they moved into the living room where Artie stayed in his chair and she took the couch. He didn't know yet what time Tina would return, so he opted not to get too cozy. She perched on the corner of the couch as he leaned forward to get a look at the pictures on her camera.

She scrolled back through all the ones from today. "Okay, of the two you approved from yesterday..." she said, finding the first one. "Wanna go with this one, glasses and shirt? Or this one?" Kitty stopped at the next one he'd approved, recalling it by number. "No shirt, no glasses."

"No shirt, no glasses is fine," Artie said, for he'd decided that it really was fine, except for one thing. "But crop out my legs, please? Just at the bottom of the shorts."

"Sure," she said, without hesitation. "I mean, I think it's fine either way, but we'd get a better shot of your eyes, more zoomed in. Something like... this?"

"Perfect," Artie said, catching her eye as she looked up from thumbing through the pictures. She blushed and refocused her attention on looking through Friday's images. He couldn't believe he'd gotten this girl to blush. And not even just once, and not because of something dumb that he said.

"I like this one, with you looking over your shoulder, about to shoot the ball," she commented. "You were laughing at my sexy pilgrim joke."

"Thanks for making me laugh," Artie said. "I look pretty forced when I'm trying to smile in pictures. You can consult the Artie wall-of-school photos for visual proof of that." He gestured at the wall beside the couch.

"Saw those already," she said. "At one of your pool parties. Mine are just as bad."

"I seriously doubt it."

Kitty laughed and sat back down on the couch, picking up her hot chocolate and taking a sip. "So, what made you change your mind?" she wanted to know. "Tina said you weren't going to let us use the pictures if you didn't like them and that she had to beg you not to refuse altogether."

Artie hesitated, not wanting to hide his feelings about the calendar project but not wanting to be quite as vulnerable in explaining his reasons. "I know I said all that stuff to you about embracing being different, not caring what others think, but..." he trailed off, smiling bitterly as he finished his confession. "I do care. A lot. You saw me care when I didn't want to go onstage as Teen Angel, right? Different is... hard."

"Different is good." She stood up again, striding towards him and hovering above him briefly before getting down on his level, practically nose to nose, staring him right in the eye.

"Are we doing this again?" Artie wondered aloud, unable to stop himself. "Because... because we didn't talk about it before, and I'm an over-thinker, y'know, and I've been over-thinking this for over a week now and–"

He didn't get to finish what he was saying because she was coming closer... closer... until she closed the space, holding his shoulders and kissing him for even longer than before.