Chapter 15: Thursday July 5th, Part One

SEBASTIAN

Sebastian had spent the rest of Wednesday night turning over Artie's words in his mind. Tomorrow will be better. Sebastian wasn't sure how much he believed that, but he clung to the hope that those words instilled in him. The second half of his first day of work had traumatized him a little bit. Well, maybe not traumatized, exactly. That was just Sebastian's melodramatic flair talking. Regardless, he was trying to be optimistic that things would improve.

The next day, Sebastian was scheduled for another long afternoon shift, this one spanning from when the store opened at eleven o'clock in the morning to five o'clock in the evening. After that, the next shift of teenage employees would take over and work until closing time at eleven at night. Sam happened to also be scheduled for the same hours as he was, for which Sebastian was grateful. Day one hadn't gone as smoothly as he'd hoped, and even despite the way he was now armed with Artie's encouraging words, Sebastian was a little on edge about how day two would go. Having Sam in his vicinity would be like having a security blanket nearby– someone to fall back on if he found himself in another tight situation.

They'd made arrangements to carpool again, but this time Sebastian offered to pick Sam up. That way, Sebastian could repay Sam for the rides he'd given him yesterday, and Seb would be able to stop at Starbucks beforehand and pick up one last caffeinated beverage to get him through the day. It was a win-win, as far as Sebastian was concerned.

After going through the drive-thru and picking up his venti cold brew, Sebastian continued on his way to Sam's house (he already knew how Sam felt about caffeine, but Sebastian had politely texted him anyway to ask if he wanted anything– he did not). Sam lived in a blue, one-story, Cape-style house in a small neighborhood just around the corner from the ice cream shop. It was then that Sebastian remembered Tina mentioning something about Sam's family having just moved when they'd met up for pizza at Salazar's that day. And when coupled with the information that Sebastian had learned from Artie last night, that suddenly made a lot more sense.

He didn't have to beep his horn or anything, because Sam was already outside waiting for him when he pulled into the driveway. He had been sitting on the front step in between Stevie and Stacey, and when Sebastian's car came into view, Sam stood up and gave each of his siblings a big hug before jogging over to the passenger side.

"Whoa, sweet ride!" was the first thing Sam said as he climbed into Sebastian's Range Rover. "I've never ridden in a car as fancy as this one before."

"Yeah, it's… a nice one," Sebastian replied, swallowing the physical manifestation of guilt that had taken the form of a lump in his throat.

He'd always enjoyed luxuries like this one without thinking too much about them. He knew that it wasn't typical for a kid his age to be driving a full-size luxury SUV as his first car, or to be attending a prestigious private high school where the annual tuition cost as much as a year away at college. But to be quite honest, Sebastian had never given any of these things a second thought. This was all he'd known. And he'd never really busied himself with all that was going on in the lives of those around him, something he was now regretting.

"Thanks for swinging by to grab me," Sam said, bouncing his leg on the floorboard of the car. He was always jittery like that, Sebastian had noticed. It was no wonder that he didn't need a jolt of caffeine to start his day.

"It was no problem," Sebastian replied truthfully, taking a sip of his iced coffee. "You don't live far. Plus, you drove me yesterday."

"Before you started working here and we started carpooling, I would just ride my bike most days," Sam told him. "That was fine, I guess. But sometimes I like to take a scoop to go at the end of the night, and I had a hard time biking home with an ice cream cone in my hand. I'm not the best at multi-tasking."

Sebastian laughed and shook his head as he pulled into the gravel parking lot of Main Street Ice Cream Shop. He and Sam hopped out of the car and entered the building through the side entrance, punching in on the time clock before grabbing their aprons from where they hung on a hook on the wall. Aside from their boss, Mr. Sanderson, they were the only two scheduled for the first shift of the day.

"It's usually not all that busy during the week," Sam told Sebastian, crossing his arms and leaning against one of the many ice cream freezers. "Since yesterday was a holiday, it was kind of an exception."

"Nice," Sebastian replied, mimicking Sam's body language and stance. "I could use an easy day. Yesterday kind of ran through me a little bit," he confessed.

"You'll get the hang of it soon enough," Sam replied, waving off Sebastian's concerns. "But last night was fun, though, yeah?"

Sebastian nodded. "Yeah. Aside from the fact that seemingly every mosquito in Ohio used me as their dinner. Other than that, I had a great time."

"Me too," Sam grinned. "And I'm sorry about the kids. I was keeping my parents up-to-date on my whereabouts, and when I told them we were going to see the fireworks, they insisted on meeting us there. I know Stacey kind of… took up camp on your lap…"

"I didn't mind," Sebastian told him with a shrug, surprising himself when he realized he was telling the truth. Maybe I don't mind kids that much after all. "Your siblings are adorable, Sam. I liked spending time with them. And thanks again for the popsicles and sodas. Those were great."

"It's the least my folks could do," he said. Sam paused and pensively looked off to the side just then, as if debating whether or not to continue. He cleared his throat nervously. "I, uh, have been depending on my friends for help a lot during these past couple of years, so now that we're getting back on our feet, I'm trying to… pay everyone back."

As if on cue, a family strode up to the ordering window just then. Just as Sam had predicted, the day had been pretty slow thus far. Whenever customers sporadically came in, Sam ended up handling them– with Seb helping him out by scooping a cone here and there, or by washing the milkshake machine between uses. When the satisfied customers walked away, they picked their conversation up right where they left off.

"Artie told me," Sebastian told Sam. "About what your family's been through, I mean. I hope that's okay. But I wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Sam replied with a shrug. "I mean, you didn't do anything. That's just life. We moved up here from Tennessee, you know, 'cause my dad got a great job offer. And then the economy went to hell, and you know what they say. Last ones in, first ones out. So, see? Nothing you need to apologize for."

Sebastian was silent at that. For once, he couldn't find the words to say the right thing. He could try his best to imagine what it would be like to be in Sam's shoes, but he'd never really know what that kind of stress and pressure was like for a teenage kid.

"We spent all our savings on the move and the down payment on the house," Sam continued, now staring off into space a little bit. "When the bank takes your house, they literally… take it. They come by one morning and kick you out of your own house. They just… lock you out."

Hearing the pain in Sam's voice hurt Sebastian more than he could even expect. Sam was such a good guy. He was funny, always making the days of those around him brighter with just his presence and his impressions. He didn't want for anything. And after meeting his siblings, Sebastian could tell that they were the same way.

"I'm just sick of feeling like a charity case, you know?" Sam asked, finally meeting Sebastian's gaze. He gave him a small nod. "'Cause that's not who I am. I don't like depending on others so much like that."

"You sound like Artie," Sebastian commented with a smirk, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. It worked, and Sam caught his eye and matched his expression with his own half-smile. "But, Sam, you know, I think I speak for everyone when I say that you don't have to pay them back. What your friends did for you… they did that because they care. They're not expecting anything from you in return."

Sam nodded, knowing that Sebastian was probably right.

"But… but things are better now, though?" Sebastian wondered.

"Yeah, yeah, we're doing okay," Sam assured him. "Our family had moved to Kentucky last summer when Dad got a new job, but I ended up coming back here by myself and crashing at Kurt and Finn's place so that I could stay at McKinley with everyone. During that time, my dad was looking for a job here in Lima, and a month or so ago, he finally found one. They gave him a relocation bonus, so the rest of 'em just moved back here too," he said, his whole demeanor changing when he got to talking about his family. "That's kind of what I've learned through all of this– that all that really matters is us. I don't care about the stuff we have, or… don't have. Just as long as the family's together. So it's nice having everyone here again. It was hard being so far away from them last year."

Sebastian nodded. Now that he had a big family like Sam's he understood what he was getting at. What he said was true– none of the material things in life matter as much as the people around you do.

Then at once, when the clock struck three o'clock, it seemed like everyone in town needed their ice cream fix. Sam gave Sebastian a proper salute before they each dispersed to begin manning their own window and start fulfilling orders.

"Welcome in," Sebastian greeted the first customer in line. "What can I get started for you today?"

…

ARTIE

Aside from swimming and watching the fireworks on the Fourth of July, Artie and Quinn hadn't seen one another as often that week as they had since school let out. Sometimes life just got in the way. What mattered more than the frequency of their hangouts, Artie knew, was the quality of the time they spent together.

However, being the doting planner boyfriend was quickly beginning to have its effect on Artie's wallet. He didn't have a job like Seb (those were words Artie never thought he'd think… ever!) and the checks in his name that came in the mail each month from Social Security weren't nearly enough for a guy who likes to treat his girlfriend right. Artie knew that he needed to find a way to save some money, but at the same time, he didn't want to cut back on having fun– not when he and Quinn only had less than two months left to spend together before she went off to Yale. There was only one logical solution to this problem that Artie could think of: to put together an incredible stay-at-home date that they'd be able to look back on fondly.

Thursday afternoon he'd gotten creative when planning out their day on a budget. He wanted to come up with something that they probably wouldn't have thought to do otherwise. He didn't want to invite Quinn over again just to lay out by the pool. Not that he was sick of swimming– he could never be!– but he was interested in finding a way to enjoy the beautiful outdoor weather with her that didn't involve the doggy paddle.

That was where Ella's generosity came in.

"Hey, El?" Artie had shouted up the stairs from where he sat in his chair at the bottom. He hoped his younger sister could hear him and wasn't wearing headphones or anything because he really wasn't looking to have to butt-scoot up the stairs to knock on her door and get her attention.

Lucky for Artie, Ella had heard him.

"Yeah?" She asked, sticking her head outside of her bedroom and catching his eye below.

"Can I ask for a favor?"

Ella nodded, leaving her room and beginning to descend the stairs, probably assuming that he just needed her help reaching something that somebody had accidentally placed too high.

"You don't have to come down," Artie told her quickly, which caused her to pause halfway down the staircase and lean over the banister to give him a confused look. "I was just wondering… well, Quinn's coming over, and I want to do something kind of fun with her, you know? Something different from what we normally do…"

"Okay…" Ella said, drawing out the last syllable impatiently, motioning for him to get on with it and just say what he wanted to say. "I still don't see how this involves me."

"Sorry," Artie rushed to say, not wanting to get on his sister's bad side because then she wouldn't agree to help him with his idea. "I'm getting there, I promise. Anyways. I've seen those art places, right? Where people, like, go there for date nights and follow their drawing instructions and drink a glass of wine? Well, those are expensive, and I don't know if we even have a place like that around here, so I thought it would be kind of fun to… recreate that kind of thing here at home. Just, you know, without the alcohol and some art instructor telling us what to do." Ella blinked back at him and Artie was unable to get an accurate read on her opinion of his idea that he'd just word vomited. "Does that sound lame?"

"So, you're asking for my opinion?"

"Kind of? But I was more calling you down to ask if we'd be able to use some of your art supplies," he confessed.

Artie knew that Ella was typically pretty protective of her extensive collection of colored pencils, but she agreed to loan them to Quinn and Artie for the afternoon on the condition that they take good care of them. Excited about the day he'd managed to put together, Artie had gleefully sent a text to Quinn that read: Get ready for a fun day at Casa de Artie! Can't wait to see u!

Upon her arrival to his backyard, and once they'd gotten settled on the patio, he recounted his earlier conversation with Ella for Quinn.

"Damn, I think my sister likes you better than she likes me," Artie realized in that moment, laughing, and causing Quinn to smile appreciatively.

Quinn was sitting on a patio chair and Artie remained in his wheelchair across from her, the two of them separated by a black cast aluminum coffee table where they'd set out all of Ella's art supplies they'd borrowed.

"Especially after all the advice you gave her about the Cheerios and high school and stuff," Artie continued. "She's got a fleet of big brothers, but not a lot of, you know, 'sisterly figures'. We do our best to look out for her and all that, but there are just some things we can't handle on our own. So thanks. Just… for loving Ella. Loving her like I do, I mean. She really looks up to you."

"It's nothing you need to thank me for," Quinn insisted, brushing off Artie's compliment, no matter how sincere it was. "I like her too. She's really fun, and I don't doubt that you've influenced her too, in some way or another."

Artie smirked and shrugged. She was her own person, effortlessly cool like both Griffin and Sebastian. Artie didn't know which of Ella's overwhelmingly positive qualities were his doing, but he was grateful that Quinn could see some of him in her. That meant a lot to him to hear.

"It was really nice of her to lend us all of her stuff," Quinn noted, surveying the assortment of paper, pencils, erasers, and more that the younger girl had loaned them. Artie knew that if Quinn hadn't been involved, his sister probably wouldn't have been as generous with her offerings.

"I bet if it were Seb and I asking, she would have given us a flat-out no," Artie commented with a grin, knowing it was the absolute truth. "She did tell me not to be too wasteful with it all, though, so maybe we can each make one drawing and then we can give them to each other when we're done."

"Alright then," Quinn said, selecting a grey colored pencil to start and holding her borrowed sketchbook up close to her chest. "No peeking. I'm going to surprise you."

"Okay, okay," Artie replied, picking up the second sketchbook and a pencil for himself. "Only if you promise not to judge whatever monstrosity I attempt to draw. I'm not the best artist. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the activity and everything, but I'm no Ella when it comes to artistic talent. She inherited all of those genes herself."

"I beg to differ," Quinn said thoughtfully, setting her blank sketchbook back down on her lap and directing all of her attention to him. "I mean, being artistic has many meanings, right? You can sing, dance, act, direct… that sounds pretty artistic to me."

Artie blushed. She always had a habit of saying just the right thing. "Okay, okay," he gave in, his face heating up as he waved off her compliments, always too humble for his own good. "You're right, I guess. But you still shouldn't be expecting some da Vinci masterpiece from me right now. I'm not that kind of artistic. Got it?"

Artie's response elicited a half-suppressed laugh from Quinn. "Got it," she said. "Now, quit looking at me and focus your attention on your own work!"

To quit looking at her was easier said than done. Whenever they were together, Artie could hardly stop admiring Quinn. He couldn't help himself– she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Today, for instance, he thought she looked beautiful in her plain red sundress and the short-sleeved knit cardigan she'd taken off and strewn across her lap. Quinn was also wearing the necklace with the garnet stone that Artie had given her as a graduation gift. He'd noticed her wearing it a lot lately, causing him to wonder if she'd ever taken it off since he'd given it to her.

The two of them worked mostly in long periods of silence, each focused intently on their own work. Every now and then, though, they'd both glance up at one another at the same time, which resulted in knowing smirks and fits of giggles. It was easy for Artie to decide what to draw– the only thing on his mind as of late: Quinn. He'd already warned her about his lacking artistic abilities, but he was determined to make this portrait of her halfway decent, at the very least. As he sketched his design and filled it in with colored pencils, he sneakily watched Quinn from over his paper. He liked the way that she stuck out just the tip of her tongue when she was concentrating hard, and how she was seemingly using ten different shades of blue in order to perfectly capture whatever she was working on.

"What?" She wondered with a smile when she'd caught him staring again, having looked up to select a brown shade from her pile of pencils, abandoning her different tones of blue.

"Nothing," he answered quickly, shaking his head. "I just… nothing. Nevermind. As you were."

As quick and exciting as it was, Artie had found the transition from good friends to lovers to be a bit awkward at first– it was something he was still trying to work through. Allowing himself to actually act on all of these impulses and feelings he'd put on the back burner for so long, thinking he and Quinn would never have a chance… it was all new to him. His usual level of nerdy awkwardness seemed to be amplified, while Quinn was the exact opposite. She was as cool as ever, and the way she so naturally showed that she loved and cared for him almost made him more relaxed as well. Quinn's way of loving was infectious. It drew people to her. She was magic.

"Okay, I'm done and ready to exchange whenever you are," Quinn told him, setting the last colored pencil she had used back in its designated spot in Ella's art kit.

"Alright, mine first," Artie said assertively, having finished just a few minutes before her. He hoped that if he was able to give her his creation first, it would soften the blow of it being sub-par. Sure, this afternoon spent drawing had been his idea, but that didn't mean he was any good!

"Ta-da!" Artie confidently exclaimed as he presented her with his blood, sweat, and tears (well… kind of). He figured if he acted proud of what he'd produced, maybe it would make up for the fact that a preschooler could make a better portrait.

Quinn was silent for a second as she raised her eyebrows and studied his work.

"Oh, wow, you really weren't kidding." Quinn laughed, taking Artie's drawing in your hands. "Maybe Ella is the artistic Abrams kid."

"Oh, come on, I don't think it's that bad," Artie defended himself, though he was chuckling now too. "I told you, I'm no da Vinci. I'm more of a… Picasso. Your nose is almost on your forehead. Which was an intentional artistic choice. Obviously."

"Arthur Picasso," she repeated, nodding as she set his picture aside and picked hers back up before handing it to him.

"You kind of beat me to it…" Quinn said, rising from her seat and coming to lean over Artie's shoulder as he admired her work. "But I drew you, too! I guess great minds really do think alike."

Artie could hardly contain his awe– glancing at Quinn's drawing was like looking in a mirror. His rectangular glasses, the way his thin, brown hair swept across his forehead, the half-smirk he knew he was guilty of doing… Unlike his own work, Quinn's actually looked like him!

"Q, this is…"

"And look," Quinn excitedly cut in before he could even begin to compliment her work. "Right here, that's your little dimple."

"My dimple?" Artie repeated, confused, not knowing what she was getting at.

"The one you only get when you're really happy about something."

"Quinn, this is incredible," Artie told her. "You're, like, so talented. Apparently, my girlfriend is secretly the greatest artist in all of Ohio and I didn't even know it."

Quinn shrugged. "I took an art class as an elective last semester," she explained. "I found that I'm pretty okay at this kind of stuff. But you were harder to draw than, like, a bowl of fruit because you kept moving so much."

"Well, my bad," Artie laughed. "But it seems like you managed just fine."

"I'm glad you like it, but I'm not letting you keep this one," Quinn warned, admiring her drawing again before taking it from Artie's hands and protectively hugging it close to her chest. "I'm keeping it. I want to be able to look back on today and remember this moment exactly how we are right now. Look how happy you look!"

"Well, in that case, I'm keeping mine too," Artie told her. "I'll have to frame it in my room or something."

"Good," Quinn said. "That way, your version of me will be the last thing you see each night and the first thing you see when you wake up in the morning."

"That might give me nightmares," Artie joked, rolling his eyes playfully and grinning before covering his mouth with his hand, suddenly all too aware of the dimple he gets when he's happy. He wasn't embarrassed by it (he didn't think he was, anyway!), but he knew he'd spend some time tonight sitting in front of his bathroom mirror, grinning like a psychopath at his reflection in order to get a glimpse of this dimple that his girlfriend seemed to love so much.

Artie checked the time on the watch he wore on his wrist before hitting his hands on his thighs. "Alright. Now that we're finished here, what do you say? You hungry?"