A/N: Thanks again to QuinnAbrams, for a fun and fresh contribution to the middle!

Something Quinn said to him at the end of that weekend stuck with Artie the following Monday, as he got ready for his first day of school.

"I'm praying for you," she said on Sunday, the day she finally had to pack up and leave for Yale. "Actually praying, not just saying I am and not doing it."

Her comment was the exact same thing that he'd told her when she had just given birth. He was impressed that Quinn remembered. When she was in the hospital, Artie had encouraged everyone else not to go and visit her right away, to give her space. He knew she'd just been through something traumatic and would need space. And when he'd texted her after Beth's birth, he had let her know that he was "actually praying, and not just saying he was doing it." The reason he said it that way went all the way back to his hospital stay after the accident. Far too many people had promised "prayers," and Artie seriously doubted they'd all followed through. But anyway, Quinn meant that she was praying for him to have a good senior year. And he believed that she was following through with that promise.

He was trying out the "film school sheik" look for the first day. While having their girl time in Columbus, Amy and his mother had made him their new project. They had gone on a huge shopping spree for him, bringing home a ton of new clothes. And so his first day of school outfit consisted of a tighter-fitting short-sleeved button down with a wide, plaid pattern in khaki, tan, and olive green, tighter-fitting khakis, and new brown and tan vans. It wasn't the sort of thing he ever would have picked but it did look nice, he had to admit. And they'd brought him several other outfits like this one. Not enough for an entirely new wardrobe or anything, but it was something Artie didn't mind trying out in the future. And as an added bonus, Artie was having a pretty good hair day, too. His current hair was just the right length, no cowlicks or weirdly long comb-over in the front. That might have been Quinn's prayers at work for him – the fact that he was actually feeling pretty damn confident about his outward appearance.

His mother had prepared a more elaborate breakfast than usual for his big senior year send-off. And his dad was even home that morning to eat with them. He'd gotten up earlier than he normally did, so as to have extra time sit down with his parents for a delicious meal of French toast, bacon, and eggs.

"I sure did enjoy my spotlessly clean kitchen this morning, Artie," his mom said, leaning against the counter, addressing him as he rolled into the kitchen with a knowing smile as she sipped her coffee. "You and your friends did a great job."

Artie had the decency to look ashamed, though it was hard with his mom smiling wickedly down at him that. He just pulled himself up to his place at the table and started eating, so his eggs wouldn't get cold.

When he'd confessed about the two parties the previous day, his mother was so shocked that she didn't know what to say at first. He proceeded to explain how he'd cleaned up the first party, mostly on his own with some help from Quinn, and how the second time, more of his friends had pitched in since the party somehow moved indoors at one point, because everyone was tired of swimming but they still weren't done with karaoke.

"No one had any alcohol, Mom, I swear to you," he assured her again. "But I did discover some new talent for my show and maybe even for Glee. I even got this one tough guy, Jake, to sing for us at the end of the night. He did 'Under the Bridge' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers..."

"The Red-Hot-Who?" was her response, before just shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "Nevermind. Artie, you really should have told me. What makes you think I'd be so uncool that I'd forbid you from hosting parties? Especially when no one had any alcohol."

"Uhhh..."

"Just ask your grandparents about the eighties and they'll tell you a story or two about me and your Aunt Nora that makes what you did look like a four-year-old's birthday party," she went on. Then she ruffled his hair, as she'd always done his whole life. And thumped his right ear. "This is your warning. Tell me next time, or if you don't, I'll invite your friends over to hear me sing karaoke. I do a pretty good rendition of 'Like a Virgin.' Just ask your father."

"Ask me what?" his father asked, choosing that moment to step into the kitchen.

"What eighties singer did I used to impersonate for you when we first got married?" she quizzed her husband, as she handed him his coffee.

"Oh, Madonna," his dad said, grinning broadly. "Your mom could have been one of those celebrity impersonators, she was that good."

As Artie ignored them and dug into breakfast, she hummed that song as a warning to her wayward son, while whipping up some eggs for his father. Artie groaned and she just cackled.

"I just want this to sink in," she told him, playfully shaking the spatula at him. "Do it again and that'll be how I punish you. You won't know where or when either. Maybe I'll just show up for a special presentation in Glee club one day..."

"Okay, Mom, I get it!"

His dad had a rare day off, and he wanted to take him to school. And pick him up. Conveniently, he'd also taken Artie's car to the shop for an oil change without telling him. He was sure his dad did that because, had Artie known, he would have definitely asked for a ride from a friend. So this is my real punishment, Artie realized glumly. Their wheelchair accessible van was definitely not the coolest mode of transportation, by any means, but it was the quickest, as it enabled Artie to just wheel himself right onto the lift and then be lowered right down onto the street. But it would attract stares, and it made him feel like a baby. They're the actual worst, he decided. Just to rub salt in the wound, his mother rode along in the front seat, blared her vintage Madonna CD, and sang along with the windows down. She cranked up the volume even louder as Artie was lowered onto pavement while several Cheerios stopped and stared. Artie wished for there to be a giant hole there, so he could just keep going down... down... down.

"Bye, sweetheart, have a wonderful first day!" she called out, as the lift went back up and the door closed. He just turned and glared at her. She smirked, having made her point, and rolled the window up. After watching them go, Artie turned to stare right back at his gawking audience.

That got several of the Cheerios to feel uncomfortable enough to go away. Except for one of them. Kitty stepped forward, kind of hobbling with her hurt ankle.

"Your parents seem nice," she said, as the others dispersed. Artie saw Bree look back at her rather quizzically before leaving.

"They're raging lunatics and they're out to destroy me," Artie said, as she cocked her head to the side. "That's their idea of punishing me for having the party. My mom's also threatening to show up at school and sing Madonna songs in Glee club if I ever do that without telling her again."

Artie was hoping to run into Marley before school, so what was he doing here talking to Kitty? More to the point, what was she doing there talking to him? She seemed to remember this at the exact moment he did. With a nod and a smirk, she started to just end their conversation by turning and walking away. But Artie again noticed the slight limp.

"Hey, Gimpy," he called, and that got her to turn around, wearing an alarmed look. He could tell she couldn't believe he'd just given her that moniker. Artie wasn't sure when or how he'd gotten to be so bold either. "Where are your crutches?"

She shot him a murderous look. "I don't need them," she said, indignantly. "If Coach sees me hobbling around on crutches, she'll have a fit. My ankle's going to be just fine. Well, I'm going to see the doctor this afternoon, but anyway, I already know it's fine."

"Oh, I see." Artie paused, looking down at the ankle that she'd clearly wrapped but covered with weird, bunchy socks. Since all of the Cheerios wore no-show ankle socks with their matching white sneakers, this called even more attention to her feet rather than camouflaging the brace. He gestured once more to his lap. "Well. I can offer you another chariot ride to your first class, if you'd like, your highness."

She looked, for a second, like she was considering his offer before ultimately shaking her head, probably worried that the sight of her riding on his lap on her first day would draw in quite a few more stares than her limp would.

"Okay, suit yourself," Artie shrugged. "But I think you still have my number, so if you can't find one of your classes, or if you do decide you need a lift, feel free to shoot me a text."

She nodded and they stared at one another for a moment before she gave him a tight-lipped smile and turned on her (uninjured) heel, heading off in the other direction. Artie watched her go for a second before realizing what he was doing and shaking himself out of it. He glanced down at the blank sign-up sheet in his lap and remembered what his first task of the morning was originally going to be, before he'd run into the group of Cheerios.

But before he could head into the school, he heard a familiar voice call his name from behind.

"Hey, Artie!"

Artie glanced over his shoulder to see Sam running across the parking lot, taking the front steps two at a time in order to get to where Artie was currently sitting out front. He was out of breath by the time he reached him. "What's up?"

"Ah, not much," Artie told him with a laugh. "Just looking forward to getting senior year started, I guess. Been a long time coming."

"Your parties this weekend were seriously awesome," Sam said, opening up the door to the school and holding it open for Artie to wheel through before entering himself. "That was the perfect way to end off the summer. It seemed like everybody had a great time."

"Yeah, well, now I'm seriously in trouble," Artie told him, cringing at the memory of the embarrassing morning. "My mom was not thrilled when she heard about what happened while she was gone, mostly because I didn't tell her first.."

"Oh no, I really hope that's not the last Artie Party..." Sam trailed off, looking seriously depressed now, as he was one of Artie's most frequent pool guests. "Hey, whatcha got there?"

Sam pointed to the sign-up sheet that was still sitting in Artie's lap. Artie handed it to him.

"Sign-ups. For 'Grease,'" Artie told him. "Did I tell you that Finn and Kurt have already committed to co-direct? Auditions will be next week in the auditorium. I figured I'd wait a week to give everyone time to prepare something."

Sam nodded and studied the sheet as the two of them made their way down the hallway side by side. "I've been preparing ever since you told me about this, dude. Plus, 'Greased Lightning' is my ringtone, and I've been knocked out by a car door before just like Kenickie. It would be pretty fun for me to recreate the reality of that moment on stage, don't you think?"

Sam was looking back at him so enthusiastically that all Artie could do was laugh.

"Well, I don't know if that makes it into the musical, but I'll look into it and see what kind of directorial liberties I can take," Artie promised him. "You would be a perfect Kenickie."

They'd made it to the school bulletin board by now, and Artie was grateful for Sam's height and the extra set of hands. "Hey, wanna pin that up there for me and you can be the first to sign up?"

Sam nodded eagerly and pinned the sheet on the wall just as Artie had asked before writing his name on the first line. The sign-up sheet for Glee was right by it, so of course he also wrote both their names on that. (And spelled Artie as 'Arty.' Like Tina did their first year.)

"So, where are you off to now?" Sam asked, handing Artie his pen back before shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "I told Blaine I'd meet him in the courtyard if you wanna come."

Artie shook his head before glancing around at all of the faces in the hallway passing by above him. "I was actually going to see if I can find Marley. I have some fliers advertising auditions that I want to hang up at lunch. I'm gonna see if she wants to help me out."

"Well, I remember two years ago, when I was a new student, they sent me to Ms. Pillsbury's office first thing in the morning," Sam informed him. "She gave me some of her pamphlets about being the new kid at school and let me take a Life Savers mint from the bowl on her desk. Maybe she's there?"

"Good idea." Artie nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem," Sam replied, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. "Well, I guess I'll see you later then."

"Yup, see ya!" Artie waved. With one last wistful glance at his sign-up sheet, Artie pivoted his chair and headed toward the guidance counselor's office. As he was rounding the corner, however, Artie came close to directly running into the person he was looking for.

"Oh, jeez, sorry," Artie blushed as he apologized, rolling back a pace and just feeling grateful he didn't cause Marley to drop the books and papers she was holding.

"Oh, hey, Artie!" Marley exclaimed, apparently less fazed by Artie almost running her over than he was. "That's okay! I wasn't watching where I was going anyway. The nice guidance counselor just gave me this map of the school and I admit, I'm already a little turned around."

"Here, I'll help you," Artie offered. "Where's your first class?"

"Um…" Marley began, shuffling through her papers to find her course schedule. "World history with Mr. Schuester?"

"Ah, that's an easy one," Artie told her with a grin. "Go straight down this hallway here and it's the second room on your left. But, hey, can I have your help with something?"

"Sure!" Marley said enthusiastically. "I owe you one, since you helped point me in the right direction of this confusing school layout. What's up?"

Artie smiled and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Remember when I told you about the school musical I'll be directing?" She nodded. "Auditions are gonna be next week, and I was wondering if you'd help me hang up some fliers to spread the word. Maybe during your lunch period? My reach doesn't exactly get to eye-level, plus it'll go by faster and be a lot more fun if there are two of us working together."

"Yeah, of course!" Marley told him, cutting him off before he could rattle off any more reasons for why she should join him. "I can meet you right back here before lunch, if that works? If I can find this spot again, that is."

"That's perfect," Artie replied, grateful for all the help he could get. "Thank you so much. And, hey, Sam just pinned the sign-up sheet on the bulletin board down that way, if it interests you to audition. Plus, it's right next to the one for Glee club."

"I will," she said, with a smile. "I'm trying out for both."

They shared a smile as the first bell rang just then, letting them know that they had five minutes to get to their first period class. Artie was on cloud nine, imagining a year in Glee club with Marley and having her play a part in his musical. Maybe she was even going to be his Sandy. As director, though, he wasn't going to mentally cast his leads before he held auditions. But having heard her rendition of 'Chasing Pavements' at the Saturday night party, he now knew she'd downplayed just how talented she was as a singer.

For smaller roles, he could make a slight exception to his rule about not casting them before auditions. Artie's first period class for his first semester of senior year was actually going to be AV Club. Seeing as he was running out of credits needed for his graduation plan, it made sense to fill a free period with his second favorite school club. One of the people he needed to recruit for 'Grease' was someone in AV club. And that was why he immediately approached one Lauren Zizes as soon as he rolled into class.

"I heard a certain someone had not one but two parties last weekend and didn't invite me," was Lauren's greeting, as she scowled darkly at him. Sometimes he couldn't quite decide if she was kidding or not. This was one of those times.

Despite the fact that she was (possibly?) mad about it, Artie couldn't keep the grin off his face. "People are talking about that?" It isn't even 8:30 and people at school are already talking about it! Lauren noticed he looked happy, and that hadn't been her intention. "Um... I didn't think you'd come. Would you have come?"

Lauren stuck her nose in the air. "Not the point," she said. Then she cracked the slightest of smiles and Artie breathed a sigh of relief.

The people in the room mostly consisted of the top ten graduating seniors in their grade, minus Tina, who refused to join on the grounds that "everyone expected Asian people to be in AV Club." Sure enough, there were a couple of Asians in their group, one being a girl Artie didn't know yet. They were all crowded around one computer, watching YouTube fails. And, even though there was no set rule on attendance for club meetings, Artie was fairly sure every person there would show up on time for AV every day. These were his people, as much as he wanted to deny it sometimes.

"Hey, Lauren, can I ask you something?" Artie asked, wheeling back a pace and hoping she'd follow so he could get her away from the rest of the group for a few minutes.

"It's way too soon to talk about Homecoming, lover boy," she shot back, and Artie had to appreciate her quick wit.

"No, that's not it," he said, with a smile. "Uh, I don't know if you've heard about this but I'm directing a fall musical again, and it's Grease. I wanted to see if you might want to audition. I, uh, I even have a part in mind for you..."

"Oh?"

When Lauren didn't immediately shoot him down, he seized the moment. "Yeah, I think you'd be great as Jan. She's one of the pink ladies and–"

"And she's the fat one," Lauren supplied. That got Jacob Ben Israel's ears to perk up. Artie knew he was in the process of digging up dirt for his stupid annual back-to-school documentary.

"No, well, I mean, yes, that's the character description," Artie hurried to explain his thought process. "But you know, the actress they got to play her in the movie wasn't heavyset at all. They put baggy sweaters on her and did her hair in these pigtails to make her face look wide and–and– well, I thought it would be nice to have, you know, real representation..."

"Someone get Abrams a shovel," said Lauren. "Because he just wants to keep on digging." This time, she wasn't kidding. Artie wheeled back another pace. She started towards him. He wheeled back again until he was almost in the corner of the room.

"I just figured you'd want to sing with Joe Hart!" he finally cried out, and that got her to stop moving in on him. "You... you see, in the musical, Jan sings this really funny duet with her love interest, Roger. I was picturing the two of you doing 'Mooning.'"

"You were picturing that?"

"That's the name of the song," Artie explained. "It's called 'Mooning,' and it's not in the movie. It's actually a personal favorite of mine. And I really would be honored if you'd at least consider coming to auditions next week."

Lauren pursed her lips. "I'll think about it," she said. "But because of the Joe Hart thing, not because you need a funny, fat chick."

"Th-thanks," Artie stammered. "Sorry if that came out wrong, that's not what I meant. I just meant..."

"Better quit while you're ahead, Wheels!" JBI's voice sang from across the room as he hopped off his chair and strolled over. "Hey, so I'm working on Glee's Big, Gay Summer. Care to confirm or deny something for me? Rumor has it, Tina Cohen-Chang tattooed Mike's name on her hip right before he dumped her and left for Chicago."

"Not helping you," Artie said, disgustedly. JBI was never professional during his yearly back-to-school vlog, which he'd be doing sometime that week to annoy the crap out of everyone. "Can't confirm or deny anything."

Lauren had taken advantage of Artie's momentary distraction to slip away. But as he looked across the room, he caught her eye and she gave him the slightest smile. He smiled back, confident that he'd found Jan.