Chapter 41: Old Stomping Grounds

SEBASTIAN

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

Sebastian's heart raced as he ran back and forth, chasing after the small green tennis ball. The ache he was already beginning to feel in his joints came with a rush that just made him want to work harder. It had been a while– too long– since he'd felt the adrenaline surge of being out on the court.

It had taken until August, but Harrison had made good on his promise to call out of work to take Seb and Griff for a day spent at the country club. The invite had, of course, gone out to their whole family, but everyone else was busy. Today happened to be Ella's fourteenth birthday, and her one wish was to spend it with Nancy doing– in Ella's words– 'girly things' (Sebastian had begged for an invite to come along to the nail salon but was immediately shut down. Whatever. He wasn't bitter about that or anything). And, naturally, Artie already had plans to hang out with Quinn.

Initially, Sebastian had been worried that– after all that had gone down with the trio this summer– Artie was just using his plans with Quinn as an excuse to bow out of something that wasn't immediately accessible. Artie didn't necessarily have a reputation for doing that, but he was known to avoid putting others in positions of having to accommodate him (even though only he viewed that as a nuisance).

That was exactly what Sebastian had told him the night before.

"Because, y'know, my dad will do whatever he can to make sure you can access everything," Sebastian had said. "He knows the club's president. He'll take care of us."

"Sure, I know," Artie replied. "Your dad has always been great about… seeing that I'm included, you know, and your plans sound like a lot of fun."

"Great, so you're in then," Sebastian concluded. "And ditching the lame excuses."

"I'm not in because I promise that I'm not making excuses," Artie had insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Quinn and I really do have our own fun activity planned for the day." He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully before adding: "One that doesn't involve the possibility of me being towed by a golf cart."

Dismayed, Sebastian had no choice but to accept his brother's graceful bow-out of the day's activities. He just hoped that Artie had been honest about his intentions. He had no reason to worry about his family taking any extra steps to see that his needs were taken care of.

Despite his disappointment about Artie staying back in Lima for the day, Sebastian would be lying if he said that he wasn't at least a little bit pumped to spend the day with just Griffin. It was rare that the two of them really 'hung out', and certainly never by themselves. Griffin was super smart, nice, and– as a former McKinley High Varsity Football captain turned Ohio State fraternity brother– just effortlessly and admirably cool. Sebastian could hardly believe that Griff and Artie could be so different and so close at the same time.

Their tennis matches today– after Harrison and Sebastian had given Griff a crash course on how to play the sport– were two-versus-one. Seb played solo, while on the other side of the net, his dad and Griffin were playing as a team. This allowed Sebastian to brush up on his rusty skills while giving Harrison and Griff the opportunity to bond. Because, truthfully, Seb's dad didn't know his eldest step-son very well.

Until just before the wedding, Griffin had been away at college. He hadn't had much time to spend with his new stepfather until now, as they hadn't been living together for long. Griff and Harrison were still in the slightly awkward 'getting to know you' stage of their step-father and step-son relationship.

Strangely, Sebastian often felt like he was stuck there, too. Though Seb had been close to his dad as a kid, there had been several instances over the years that had caused Sebastian and Harrison to grow apart. Though he'd never say so out loud, Seb had hopes of returning to the relationship with his father that he'd once had– back before his mom's passing, and his angsty teenage hormones and mood swings had caused him to act out, further dividing them. If anything, seeing the Abrams kids form their own relationships with his father had sparked that desire inside of him.

With his mind elsewhere, Sebastian's swing wasn't where it needed to be, and he sent the ball sailing out of bounds.

"Stay controlled, Sebastian," Harrison critiqued his son as Griffin chased after the rogue tennis ball. "You've been playing great up until now. Don't get lazy and lose your focus."

Seb rolled his eyes, despite knowing that his father was right. He was super out of practice, and his form said so.

Seb hadn't played much golf or tennis this summer, which wasn't very typical of him. He'd grown up taking weekly tennis lessons when they'd lived in Europe, and when they moved to the States and joined the Marion Ridge Country Club, he'd competed on the club's junior tennis team. It felt like he used to spend every day wearing down the soles of his shoes by pacing these courts while his dad was out on the green. If Sebastian got lucky, his dad would even join him on the court at the end of the day after he finished his round. Though he didn't play nearly as often anymore, whacking a ball around with his dad brought back old memories of simpler times, and he wasn't going to let anything trivial– like his dad annoyingly coaching him– ruin that.

Determined to make the correction on his next serve, Sebastian's head was back in the game. With a loud involuntary grunt, Sebastian sent the ball back over the net, where it proceeded to drop right in front of Griffin. His step-brother swung and missed as the ball bounced right over his head.

Fair ball.

"That's my boy!" Harrison exclaimed, setting his racquet down to applaud his son and give him the positive reinforcement he quietly desired. "Well done!"

Sebastian couldn't help but grin. His emotions and moods had been all over the place lately. It's been an admittedly pretty dark road for some time now, and now it seemed like maybe some brighter days were on the horizon.

Whack!

Just as quickly as he'd risen to the top of the game, however, he was smacked back down again. Seb had been so distracted by his thoughts that he missed Griffin's return ball, allowing the newbie to score a point on him.

"Nice shot, Griffin!" Harrison praised his teammate, the two of them exchanging a sort of high five by tapping their racquets together. "You're not bad at all."

"I got lucky," came Griff's humble response, keeping a watchful eye on Sebastian over the net, seemingly unsure of how his step-brother would react to his father complimenting someone else like that.

He could see why Griffin may have expected him to be jealous or territorial, but, truthfully, Sebastian was just glad they were doing this. It wasn't often that he got to spend much time with his dad, and after visiting Akron with the Abrams boys, he craved quality time with his father more than he usually did. If that meant hearing his dad critique him and compliment Griffin, then so be it.

Although Griff had never picked up a tennis racquet before today, he caught on very quickly, being that he was so naturally athletic. It was just another reason why Sebastian was so determined to get it together and win this match.

They went back and forth for a while, but in the end, Sebastian came out victorious. That being said, his father (an experienced player, albeit a tad rusty) and Griffin (the amateur) had given him quite the run for his money. Sebastian was exhausted. He hadn't exerted himself like that since lacrosse season, and he knew he'd be sore tomorrow.

"He's right, you know," Sebastian told Griffin after their match. He removed the baseball hat he was wearing in order to swipe at his forehead with the sweatband he had on his wrist before readjusting the hat atop his sweaty hair and stepping forward to shake hands with his opponents over the net that divided them. "You're picking this sport up pretty fast. You have good aim."

"Well, hitting the ball to an intended spot isn't so different from baseball," Griff pointed out with a shrug after shaking Seb's hand. He walked around the side of the net, where they had kept their water bottles and gear as they played. "Which I used to be pretty decent at, another lifetime ago."

Sebastian swallowed hard and nodded as he remembered Griffin telling him that he quit playing baseball after Artie's accident. It was something they had always played together and bonded over. The sport just wasn't the same for him after Artie couldn't participate anymore. So, despite Griff's talent and affection for the sport, he'd left it all behind.

Based on what he said next, it seemed like Griffin was thinking the same thing.

"You know who'd probably be pretty good at tennis if he gave it a proper shot? Artie. He's got amazing hand-eye coordination. Remember when we went to the batting cages that one time? He hit, like, every ball."

Sebastian nodded, because how could he forget that? He'd been thoroughly humbled that day, getting his ass handed to him by his siblings. Through his embarrassment, however, he did remember Artie being pretty damn good. It wouldn't surprise him if Griffin was right and Artie was able to quickly pick up tennis as well.

"There are many people that use wheelchairs who play tennis," Sebastian's father pointed out. "Plenty of sports, for that matter."

"Basketball, tennis, track and field events, swimming… There are whole adapted sports leagues out there," Griffin added, "Then there are the Paralympics, which are at the end of the month."

"We should watch the Paralympics as a family," Harrison further surprised the two boys by saying. Griffin seemed just as taken aback by Harrison's apparent knowledge of sports for people with disabilities as Sebastian was. "And we'll make an effort to come back here and play another match before the summer ends and see if Artie wants to join us."

The what? Sebastian had heard of the Olympics (obviously– he didn't live under a rock!), but never the Paralympics. A group of athletes like Artie– ones with all kinds of disabilities– from all over the world competing against each other for international glory certainly piqued his interest. Sebastian sure didn't know much about that, and he was kind of shocked that his dad had taken the liberty of doing some research on the disabled community and its culture to further connect with his step-son. Sebastian reckoned that it wouldn't hurt if he did the same.

"Well, that beats that sports chair of his gathering dust under the tarp in the garage, that's for sure," Seb added, contributing what he could to the conversation.

Sliding his racquet into its carrying case, Sebastian slung it over one shoulder before reaching down to pull his foot up behind him, stretching his ankle and his quadriceps. Yup, he'd definitely be sore tomorrow.

Noticing Sebastian's stance as he took a swig from his water bottle, Harrison raised an eyebrow in his direction. "How's your foot? Not bothering you, I hope."

Seb released his foot and shrugged before leading the way as the three of them walked back to the clubhouse to shower, freshen up, and change before their round of golf this afternoon. Their tee time was quickly approaching, and the three of them were all in their tennis whites. While Sebastian was quite fond of the aesthetically pleasing attire, these outfits just wouldn't do for the round of golf they were about to play. "Feels fine to me."

After his untimely fall on the patio, Seb's foot had been on the mend these last few months. It wasn't bothering him so much anymore, but it did explain why he was a little out of practice with his tennis game and allowed Griffin to score some points on him. He was just getting back into the swing of things, and that was why he was wearing an ugly black ankle brace today– for extra protection. He knew he'd be on his feet all day, and he didn't want his foot to ruin the day or sideline him from all of the fun to be had.

"Okay. Just make sure you're taking care of yourself," Harrison warned. "Fractures are tricky things. If you don't give them the time to heal properly, they'll bother you for years."

"I know, I know. You've said that before"

"Just reminding you. You don't want to have to use the boot again before the first day of your senior year."

The thought of the first day of school made Sebastian nauseous. Things just seemed so different now. Artie had Quinn and his movie, Ella would be starting her freshman year as a member of the Cheerios, and his Warbler friends had spent their summers all over the place on vacations with family and friends. All Seb had to show for this summer was his job at the ice cream place. Not exactly luxury. How was he supposed to show up to Dalton as the same person he'd been when he left all those months ago? How was he supposed to show up to Dalton again at all? It seemed like everything had changed this summer and nothing had, all at the same time.

Seb had no idea what to do about it.

…

ARTIE

"Um… care to explain what's going on here?"

After giving his old chair one more good shove into the trunk of his car, Artie glanced over his shoulder, smiling when he saw that he'd been caught. He'd been hoping to have his car all packed up before Quinn arrived to keep his big plans a secret.

"You're early," he replied cheekily, shutting the trunk instead of answering her question.

"Only by five minutes," she told him as she stood with her hands on her hips, looking irresistibly adorable. "Is this outfit okay?"

She was wearing jeans, a yellow ruffled tank top, and white Converse sneakers with her hair kept out of her face by a headband. In his attempt to be discreet about his plans for the day, all Artie had advised her was to dress comfortably.

"It's perfect." He was wearing a similar outfit– khakis, a striped polo shirt, funky socks, and sneakers.

"So, are you going to clue me into what you were doing with your old chair just now?" she repeated, reminding him that he couldn't dodge her curiosity that easily.

"Just some last-minute prep for the day ahead," Artie smirked, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stave off her questions for much longer. They'd better get a move on before she had the chance to figure out where it was he was taking her. "Well, since you're here, hop in! We're losing daylight!"

Quinn climbed in on the passenger's side as Artie transferred into the driver's seat and dismantled his chair, shoving the pieces behind him. Putting the car in reverse, he backed out of the driveway and set off on the journey he knew by heart– he could probably find it blindfolded. After all, for most of his adolescence, this location had served as a safe haven for him.

"I hate surprises," Quinn lamented dramatically as she stared out the window.

"I know you do, but trust me on this one, okay?" Artie laughed. "It'll be the most amazing, and incredible, and inspiring day ever. Just be patient."

Quinn made a 'hmph' noise before crossing her arms over her chest and furrowing her eyebrows together as she stuck her lower lip out in Artie's direction. Her fake pouting was amusing and almost enough to get him to cave, but he stood his ground. He'd been too excited about surprising her with his idea to abandon the plan now, just a few streets away from their destination.

While Harrison took Sebastian and Griffin to his country club for a day of tennis and golf, Artie's mom and sister were out getting mani-pedis and shopping. This left Artie with the perfect opportunity to introduce Quinn to one of his favorite pastimes. All she needed was a helmet and her own set of wheels.

"Here we are!" Artie said, turning into the parking lot and snagging the final accessible spot.

He glanced at Quinn beside him and stifled a laugh at the confused expression she was sporting. From their view through the windshield, it appeared that he'd taken her to any old skatepark– but, of course, that wasn't the case.

"C'mon," he told her, opening the door, unbuckling his seatbelt, and reaching into the backseat to retrieve the frame of his chair. "You'll understand in a minute or two."

Quinn did as she was told, reluctantly climbing out of the passenger seat, probably trusting her boyfriend enough to know that whatever day he'd planned for them wouldn't be a total bust. "Are you gonna tell me what we're doing here?"

"Just follow me," Artie told her stubbornly once his chair was fully assembled and he'd made the transfer. He set off, pushing ahead of Quinn and showing her the way. "It's up here."

He led her to a landing that afforded them a view of the entire concrete landscape from above. All around them were skaters of varying physical abilities with a handful of different methods of transportation. There were kids in wheelchairs sailing down ramps, amputees doing tricks on skateboards, and girls and boys with prosthetic limbs learning to rollerblade. Artie's chest swelled with pride and excitement as he surveyed the goings-on below.

"Artie…" Quinn began to say, jarring him from his reverie, before the rest of the sentence died in her throat. He glanced up to find her taking it all in, her lips slightly parted and her eyes starry and wide as she absorbed her surroundings. Everywhere she looked, there seemed to be something new to catch her eye. "What is this place?"

"This is where people like me go to play around and have fun," Artie told her, pairing the honest statement with a toothy grin. "Way better than Cedar Point, the golf course, and the beach all in one. You can quote me on that."

"Why?" she asked before shaking her head at the way the one-word question had sounded coming out of her mouth and choosing to rephrase it. "I mean, this place is incredible and all, and I can see why you love it so much, but why did you bring me here?"

"Because," Artie shrugged. "I thought you may want to get in a quick adrenaline surge. It's nothing like being at the top of the Cheerios pyramid, I'm sure, but it still gives you a good rush. And it's a beautiful day out!"

"I didn't come prepared with wheels like you did," Quinn reminded him, looking at Artie dubiously. "I don't have anything to ride!"

"Sure you do." A smirk spread across Artie's face. "You caught me shoving my old chair into the trunk earlier, remember? What did you assume that was about?"

The solution only seemed to dawn on Quinn in that moment

"Artie, I really shouldn't," she told him, causing his face to fall. When she noticed, she added: "I just mean, I know how much you hated that week when we all played around in chairs all day, and-and how upset you were when you found out about what Finn had done…"

Quinn's voice trailed off, and Artie swallowed hard and tried not to look too disappointed.

"But you should absolutely show off what you can do!" Quinn exclaimed after a moment, attempting to fix the awkwardness that hung thickly in the air between them. "Why don't I go take a seat on that bench down there, and watch you? I'm sure you have some awesome tricks you can show me, right?"

This skate park served as a sort of safe space for disabled people– somewhere where they could come together, meet one another, and hang out in a way that many able-bodied people wouldn't– couldn't– understand. Artie knew what it was like to be the only disabled person in a room, and he guessed that Quinn was experiencing a little bit of that 'out of place' feeling right now. While he may understand where her hesitation was coming from, he didn't agree with it.

He reached for her hands, and she met his eyes easily.

"The whole point of this place is that it's inclusive," he told her. "Inclusive, meaning that everyone's invited to take part. So long as it remains a safe space for people of all abilities, we don't discriminate here. If you bring a set of wheels, and you're respectful, then you're more than welcome to hang with us." Feeling a semi-rare rush of confidence, he puffed out his chest, adding, "Plus, you're with me, and that's like a golden ticket around these parts. I've been coming here since I was a kid, and I'm like the mayor by now. Everyone loves to roll with Artie Abrams."

With impeccable timing, one of his longtime skatepark buddies– Mickey, a guy a year younger than him with cerebral palsy– chose that moment to call over a greeting. "Artie! What's happening!?"

Artie's face lit up as he waved back. "Sup, Mickey?" He returned his attention to Quinn, using the interaction with Mickey to punctuate his point. "See? They love me here. You have nothing to be afraid of. Let's roll!"

That seemed to be enough to convince her. They turned around and returned to his car, where Artie popped the trunk and retrieved his own helmet and Ella's that Quinn was going to borrow for the day. He helped Quinn to put together his old chair, which now typically sat in the garage collecting dust awaiting the rare occasion that it was needed. It was a bit small for her, but that didn't really matter since she was only using it for the afternoon. Artie guessed that he and Quinn were pretty close in height. Not that they'd ever stood next to one another or anything, but they'd laid out on his bed beside one another enough times for him to be able to make an educated guess.

They rolled side-by-side through the gate, and the first thing that Artie did was give her a crash course in all things wheelchair.

She was right– while the 'Proud Mary' number had been fun to do, the weeklong wheelchair assignment that went with it was not his favorite Glee Club memory. It had made him uncomfortable, especially when he'd found out about the stunt that Finn had pulled in order to get a part-time job as a busboy. He knew that Quinn still felt bad about that– she'd been the one to encourage Finn to get a job in the first place, after all– and, ever since, she had been extra respectful of Artie's chair– going so far as to never even sit in it when he was out of it, as many of their other friends tended to do. Her lack of experience on wheels meant that Artie needed to show her all of the basics– how to pivot, how to distribute her weight to push up a steep ramp, and, most importantly for today, how to slow down and stop.

After he felt that her wheelchair skills were proficient, he took her down one of the smaller ramps a few times. Once she mastered that, they moved into the next size up, then the size after that. It wasn't long before she looked like an old pro out there, and Artie suggested that they go down the biggest ramp of them all.

"I don't think I'm ready for this," Quinn told him as they sat side by side at the top of the ramp, looking down into what kind of resembled a concrete fishbowl.

"Yeah, you are. Just trust me."

With that, Artie shot her an encouraging smile and pushed himself off of the ledge, grinning as his stomach lurched as he picked up speed on his way down. When he finally began to coast to a stop at the bottom, he threw his arms up in the air in celebration.

Pivoting, he could make out the worried expression on Quinn's face.

"I don't think I can do it!" she called down to him, shaking her head.

"You can! I believe in you!" Artie shouted back, shielding his eyes from the sun as he glanced up at his girlfriend from the bottom. "Now, come on and prove me right!"

His affirmations seemed to do the trick, and Quinn squeezed her eyes shut before cautiously leaning over the edge, sending herself careening toward where Artie was waiting at the bottom. She screamed with what Artie guessed was a mix of thrill and fear and he beamed watching her.

He'd always been pretty private about this side of his life– the disabled part. He wasn't ashamed of this identity of his, but he also didn't know if his able-bodied friends would really get it. He was hesitant to share too much for fear that he would accidentally share something that would further alienate him from his peers. He just wanted to be seen as normal, like everyone else– at least, at school. He was relieved that Quinn seemed to understand and respect why this skate park meant so much to him.

Once she'd gotten over her fear of the big ramp, they'd gone down it several more times. Before they knew it, they had stayed at the skate park all day long. The sun was starting to go down by the time Artie and Quinn were making their way back to Artie's car, sweaty and exhausted.

"My hands aren't strong like yours," Quinn told him, pausing her wheeling to inspect her palms. "I've got blisters all over my fingers."

Artie laughed. "I suppose I should have loaned you a pair of stylish fingerless gloves, too. At the beginning of the summer, Sebastian stole my yellow ones and never returned them, though, so now I'm down to only one pair. You can show him your blisters and help me campaign for those precious gloves to be returned to their rightful owner."

"Will do," she replied, returning his laugh. "Thank you for bringing me here today. This was really fun."

"I'm glad," Artie told her. "These are my old stomping grounds. I can't tell you how many times I came here to escape whatever was going on in my life. Growing up, there weren't a lot of places where I could come and interact with people having fun in the same situation as me. I haven't been here as often this summer. Life just got in the way, I guess." Artie shrugged. After a moment of studying her, he raised an eyebrow. "You really had fun?"

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because, you know, sometimes places like this make people– able-bodied people– feel a little uncomfortable."

Shut up, Artie! He chastised himself as he watched as the expression on Quinn's face softened. He didn't want pity from her, and she knew that, but sometimes he wasn't able to stop himself from oversharing.

"I mean, I'm not trying to imply that you would feel that way," Artie quickly added. "Just some people do. But, uh, I'm glad you didn't feel that way. Uncomfortable or anything, I mean. Because this place means a lot to me. I'm glad I could bring you here today."

"I'm glad you brought me here, too," she told him when they reached his car. "But I'm going to be sore tomorrow for sure. My body's not used to this kind of workout, I'm afraid."

Artie laughed as he transferred from his chair into the driver's seat. "Well, I may just have the perfect solution for that."

A good swim was what Artie had in mind, as he knew it was the best way to soothe achy joints and muscles.

"Huh," Artie said thoughtfully as they pulled into his driveway and he saw that only half of the usual cars were parked outside. "I think we're the first ones home. Everyone else must still be out."

They quickly headed inside and changed into their swimsuits, neither one of them wanting to waste a moment of precious time alone before Artie's family would descend upon them.

"The water's nice," Quinn told him from the shallow end as Artie set his brake and lifted his feet off the footplate in order to begin easing himself into the pool.

"Yeah? Well, it better be," Artie laughed. "We keep the heater on pretty much all the time in the summer, in case of the event that I want to spontaneously swim, like now. It's expensive but worth it."

Once out of his chair, Artie scooted off of the steps and paddled a few strokes further into the water before submerging himself. Feeling instant relaxation come over his body, he couldn't help but let out a sigh of sweet relief. After what Quinn had said as they were leaving the skate park, he wondered if she felt the same way.

"So, did the water do its thing to reverse your soreness after your day as Lima, Ohio's newest skater chick? Was I right, or was I right?" Artie asked her, using one hand to hold onto a paver that made up the edge of the pool. "You can tell me I was right, you know."

She laughed and shook her head, knowing how Artie could be by now. It was no secret that he loved to be proven correct– that was the director in him. "You were right. But, for the record, I never doubted you."

"Well, that's a relief," he replied, swimming closer to her before pretending to wipe an imaginary bead of sweat off of his forehead and getting her to giggle again. He beamed. "And, oh, hey, I've been thinking about New Haven. About, you know, coming with you to your orientation."

Quinn looked surprised to hear this. "You have?"

Artie nodded. "Yeah. I looked into the accessibility and everything, and checked out the school and surrounding areas online."

"And?"

"I think it sounds fun," he said. Artie moved through the water until he could perch on the steps and conserve his energy during their conversation. He'd underestimated how tired he was from the day as well and hadn't thought to grab a foam noodle or a raft from the poolhouse for extra support before getting in the water. "I really do want to get to see the place where you'll be spending the next four years in person," he continued. "Plus, you were right. My stats are probably competitive enough to get me into an Ivy. Why not give it a shot? Let's do it."

Quinn's face lit up. It didn't seem like she'd expected him to give her his answer so soon or so enthusiastically. "Really?! You're sure?"

"I mean, obviously the school is super old, and so is the city, so it won't be the most hassle-free trip where the chair's concerned, but I think we can handle it together," Artie told her. "Don't you?"

He'd spent a lot of time researching what Yale and New Haven were like for wheelchair users. Being that it was so historical, Artie anticipated that they'd run into some access issues here and there. But he was also trying to become more adventurous. He didn't want the potential of inaccessibility to deter him from an experience like this– especially since he knew Quinn wouldn't mind helping him out when needed. They were a team, and they could handle going on a trip on their own.

"Definitely," she told him. "There are a bunch of hotels right near campus. That's one less thing we have to worry about, anyway. But mostly, I'm just excited to spend some time with you before…"

Her voice trailed off, and Artie inferred that they both knew what part she'd left unsaid. Before I leave for good. Quinn and Artie's eyes locked for a moment before Quinn seemed to find her train of thought.

"A whole weekend of just us two. Which means I can do this whenever I'd like to."

She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips firmly to his.

He was really going to miss that when she left for Connecticut.