One Week Later
Getting back into the school routine after Spring Break was proving to be tough. Artie yawned all the way through first period. He'd instantly regretted the decision to take a Sunday flight back to Ohio, particularly when said flight got delayed and resulted in he and DeShaun getting in super late. On top of that, they still had to wait to be the last ones off the plane on account of Artie. His wheelchair had also come back to him with a small tear on the armrest that probably went unnoticed by the person responsible but was a bitter reminder to Artie that he couldn't trust strangers with his most valuable possession. And yet, when he traveled by plane, he had no choice but to do just that.
Some parts of the trip were good -- the part where he got to catch up with Mercedes and her brother -- but going out in L.A. was not good. It was more complicated for him there than any place he'd visited before. However, he only told Kitty the good things about L.A. during their evening FaceTimes. So, that was probably why it came as a huge shock to her when she encountered a perfect pessimist that morning at school.
"I've ruled out L.A.," he said, flatly, when she stopped him in the hall on Monday, after she'd bent down for a slightly awkward hug. "Do you know how many times Mercedes' brother had to lift me out of her car because we couldn't find accessible parking? It was like, all street parking, everywhere you try to go. And you'd have to park a mile away! Then, when we did take public transit, the bus drivers were super rude about my chair."
Chair, accessible, buzz, buzz! He could imagine Betty rolling her eyes but he didn't care. It was honest. And it was time he serve that up to Kitty, lest she not know what she was really getting into, being involved with him.
"Oh," she said, in a small voice. "Well, so, Brooklyn then?"
But Artie shook his head, an avalanche of negative thoughts and self-doubt now tumbling out of his mouth. "I don't know, probably not," he said. "I'm sure if you want to be successful in this industry, you'd be doing things in New York and L.A. Maybe I should just think smaller."
"No!" Kitty practically wailed.
He was stunned that she cared that much. He he was still a little mad at her. She'd taken his call in that damn stairwell every single night. God forbid the Cheerios know she was talking to him.
"Think about... this instead." She put one of those notes they used to exchange back in the fall on his armrest, right on top of the tiny tear. "I have to go, but we'll talk later, okay?"
Artie knew before reading it that it said, in fancy cursive, "Meet Me Under the Stars?" They hadn't met up in the astronomy classroom since their first big fight back in December. Artie, taking this as a good sign, pushed all thoughts of the future aside and decided to focus on the present. It actually managed to lift his mood.
Meeting "under the stars" started with their usual makeout sesh, once they could be sure that the classroom was empty. (Ms. Castle almost always left campus during her conference period to grab a coffee and escape the insanity of teaching adolescents about astronomy.) The classrook did indeed consist of those glow-in-the-dark stars all over the ceiling, meticulously arranged in constellations. Artie just wanted to focus on kissing, but Kitty had actually meant it when she said she wanted to talk more.
"Have you told your parents about it yet?" Kitty asked. "Does your mom still not even know you got into those schools?" (Artie's silence that followed answered that for her.) "Artie! How are you leaving her out of one of the biggest decisions of your life?"
"Exactly," he said, quickly, leaning back and resigning himself to talking instead of kissing now. "This is the biggest decision of my life up until now, and after going to both places, I can't see myself there. Definitely not L.A. Maybe Brooklyn, but something just doesn't feel right."
"It's all the self-doubt that you let creep in," she insisted, getting so worked up over this that tears actually appeared in her eyes. "I want you to think back to directing 'Grease' in the fall. And think of 'West Side Story' before that... I-I wasn't there for that, but I heard all about it. Don't forget who imagined all of that and who did the work of bringing it to life."
"My cast... Rachel... Mercedes, when she had to go on for her as the unders--"
"YOU!" Kitty roared. Fed up with trying to convince Artie that he was good enough now, she jumped off the table she'd been sitting on. With a disgusted look over her shoulder, she stormed off, leaving Artie alone in their makeout spot now. Alone and angry with himself, mostly, for ruining their limited time together with all this talk about the future. But, on the other hand, she was the one who made it her business and wouldn't let it rest. He just wanted to live in the present and to enjoy what little time was left.
Four days went by. It seemed like she'd let it go. After initally blowing up at him when he said he didn't know about film school anymore, Kitty did a weird thing where she just went back to acting like nothing had happened. She kept leaving him little notes to meet in astronomy class during their free period. It looked like Artie wasn't getting any actual studying done, other than studying the way her Cheerios uniform fit snuggly against her chest.
The Cheerios were back to wearing the tiny skirts and fitted tops she hated so much every day, now that they'd won at Nationals. Bragging rights, Kitty had explained. It was too bad, she said, because she'd bought herself a lot of cute springtime outfits with money she'd saved after Christmas.
On Monday, Mr. Schue had made the weekly theme be songs by Stevie Wonder. On Wednesday, Artie treated everyone to his own rendition of 'For Once in My Life.' The song reflected how he was feeling a bit more upbeat, now that Kitty adored him again -- at least, behind closed doors. (What didn't exactly match was the song's lyrics about having found your direction in life.) Nobody seemed to know that the person he'd dedicated the song to was Kitty. Everyone had forgotten that he picked her to be his date to Breadstix before Regionals when he won that competition.
And then, as an answer to his song, Kitty dedicated a song to him the next day. Only she didn't bother to hide who she was singing about. It was Thursday, and Artie -- having been double-booked with the AV Club that afternoon -- showed up to rehearsal a tad bit late. Consequently, he wheeled into the beginning of her performance, trying to go unnoticed as he headed to his usual spot. She, however, looked straight at him as she sang.
"Oooooh yeah, like a fool I went and stayed too long..." she belted. Her dancing partners, Ryder and Jake, assisted with a series of complicated lifts and dance moves. As for Artie, he tried not to let his annoyance show. What exactly was she playing at? Even though they were hiding this relationship, she'd chosen to deliver the song in it's entirety directly to him, never dropping her gaze. In a final gesture, Ryder and Jake lifted her into the air as she did a spread-eagle Cheerios move right over his head. Artie turned around, gaping at her, and immediately began backing up. It had the effect of landing him in the center of the choir room, putting all eyes on Artie now as she turned around and, seated in a choir room chair now, approached him while being lifted again by Ryder and Jake.
"Seemed like the perfect Stevie song to celebrate Artie getting his acceptance letters into film school," Kitty announced, standing now and placing a hand on Artie's shoulder. "That's right, not one but two letters of acceptance. Both the Los Angeles Film School and the Brooklyn Film Academy have offerred a spot to our favorite director."
"Are you serious?" That was Tina, who rose from her seat and addressed Artie now, as everyone's applause died down. "Artie, why didn't you tell us you already got accepted?" And she sat back down. "Wow, I guess this means you could step down from the Valedictorian battle with me, seeing as you don't really need it--"
Artie opened his mouth, not knowing what to address first here -- Tina's wild assumption or Kitty's insane presumption that he needed her help to make this announcement. He closed it again and, with a hard pivot, settled on a Rachel Berry storm-out. He just wasn't fast enough to pull that off.
"Whoa, tap the brakes, buddy!" It was Kitty running after him down the hall, her white trainers offering an advantage. She passed him up and came to a stop right in front of him. The custodian had propped open a restroom door, leaving the mop cart in the way. Once again, he couldn't get past, leaving him no choice but to hear her out.
"Spoiler alert, Artie, they probably knew already!" Kitty remarked, her hands on her hips as she towered over him with an annoying air of superiority in that moment. "Why wouldn't you get accepted? Now, you might as well tell your mom."
"Kitty, I don't need that kind of pressure!" he exploded, turning himself to face her. "Are you insane? I already told you all my reasons for not wanting to do this. Actually, I didn't tell you the whole truth..."
"Which is?"
At this, Artie heaved a well-placed, dramatic sigh. "Even if I tell her I got in, mom isn't going to let me go." Lie. "Neither place is very wheel-friendly." Even bigger lie. At least, where Brooklyn is concerned.
For once, it looked like his lies had earned him the last word. If he wasn't so angry about her meddlesome ways, he might have felt bad about the way she shrank back at his final admission. With a dismayed shake of his head, he turned and continued to push his way out of the school. It looked like they wouldn't be meeting under stars again anytime soon.
He almost forgot he was supposed to stop by Burt Hummel's garage on the way home. Finn was there, working as he always did, but now that he was taking a remedial college algebra class, he had something else going on. Consequently, it seemed to Artie that Finn's spirirts were slightly lifted, on account of having some direction in his life. Having determined that he would earn a business degree and take over for Burt, when his step-father decided to retire, it seemed like Finn had a pretty clear idea now about where he was headed. Even if it took awhile for him to get there.
"Artie!" Finn had already taken off his gloves and stepped away from the car he'd been working on, trying to work out a few problems before Artie arrived to give him some patient guidance through each of them. But he immediately took in the look on Artie's face and, like the intuitive friend he was, asked, "What's wrong?"
Artie exhaled loudly, as he came to a stop by Finn. He wanted to ignore the question and just get to work on Finn's math, but now that he'd given his bad mood away, he knew he had to explain first. "Kitty told everyone that I got into the film schools I applied for," he said, thinking that it sounded kind of dumb when he complained about it out loud. "I wasn't ready to say anything yet... I don't know if I'm even going..."
"Why wouldn't you?" Finn looked confused, and it wasn't because of Algebra. "Wasn't that the whole reason you did 'Grease?'" He paused, then grinned wickedly at him. "And why is it Kitty knew first? Is it for the reason that I think?"
Finn's huge grin was contagious. And Artie now wondered exactly how many people already suspected he and Kitty were involved. "Yeah, yeah, it's the reason that you think," he said, ducking his head. "But I blew it again. I yelled at her for telling everyone about film school. She probably thought she was being supportive..."
"Dude, as someone who makes the mistake of yelling and kicking over chairs anytime I get mad -- even in front of a girl I care about -- just eat a big old piece of humble pie, bro, and go apologize for being grouchy."
Artie chuckled. "Yeah, okay," he agreed. "So, math?"
"Well, do you want some actual pie first?" Finn asked. "Burt just had a birthday, and he's not big on cake, so Carol brought him a huge cherry pie. Vanilla ice-cream, too. It's in the office."
Carol's cherry pie with vanilla ice-cream sounded like the perfect thing to lift his spirits. It was even better when Burt suggested to microwave the pie first, so that it was nice and warm before heaping a big scoop of ice-cream on top of each of their slices. He promptly moved a chair in his office to make room for Artie, and he and Finn ate their pie off of the corner of Burt's paper-covered desk.
"Gonna be tricky not having Kurt around to help with this kind of stuff," he said, with a nod to the paperwork. "But. He's thrilled to finally be in New York. I wasn't gonna stand in his way."
Artie swallowed a perfect bite of pie and ice-cream as he let Burt's words marinate in his mind. Nobody was standing in his way, either. Except maybe his own fear and self-doubt, as Kitty had seen fit to so accurately assess. She could be so annoyingly right about things. Cute, too, but annoying...
"... and, who knows, Finn?" Burt said, clapping his other son on his very broad shoulder. "You might become my book-balancer. Maybe you're not bad at math at all. Possibly, you're just inexperienced."
Finn swallowed a big bite of cherry pie and beamed at his stepfather. "I guess we'll find out," he said. "Artie explains it really well. Artie, are you sure you shouldn't go study something related to math? Be a shame to not use that skill."
"I like just imparting my math skills to others like you," Artie added, blushing at the compliment.
Finn's comment was something he'd considered before. He'd always been good with numbers, a whiz in things like science. And yet there were physical issues that couldn't be overcome if he wanted to be something like a surgeon. That job would require you to stand on your feet. No matter the path he took, he couldn't ignore the very practical reasons why certain careers were out of the question. No, no, it kind of didn't matter if he was good at math and science, not if he couldn't go be anyone's doctor...
As they worked out Finn's problems, Artie realized he was going to have to stop delaying dealing with his own. He'd start with talking to his mother and go from there. He gave Finn a big hug of appreciation for his brotherly support before heading home.
"Mom, I'm home!" he called, as he rolled through the front door, dropping his car keys in the basket by the front door.
"Hey, Artie," she called.
"Yeah, hey Artie," said a second voice, as he rolled down the ramp to get into the living room. And completely froze. Kitty Wilde was at his house, sitting on the sofa next to his mother, looking entirely too comfortable. Yes, she'd been to his house before, but only with the group, for the pool parties. Nothing like this.
"Guess I beat you home," Kitty smirked. "And I guess I beat you to telling your mom about your good news."
"Honey, why would you hide something like that from me?" Her expression of disappointment couldn't have been plainer. Artie shifted his gaze back to Kitty, still too stunned by the ambush to react.
"So much for your lies." Her work now done, Kitty jumped up from the couch, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "Your mom's completely on board with you going to Brooklyn Film Academy, by the way. You know, I thought you were a lot of things... but I didn't peg you for a wuss. I guess you two have a lot to talk about."
And, having gotten the first and last word (with Artie having yet to utter a thing), Kitty gave him one final smirk and a condescending pat on the shoulder on her way as she let herself out the front door.
"Alright, why would you tell people that I'm afraid to let you go to New York?" Nancy Abrams was not going to let him down easy. She never did.
So, putting up what he thought was a believable front, he dropped his eyes to his lap and muttered, "Because I'm afraid to go, okay? I just thought it would be easier to blame it on you."
"Well, you've never been afraid of anything in your life," said Nancy.
Feeling like this was giving him more credit than he was due, he exploded with: "Because my life has been pretty sheltered! Because you built that ramp that I just rolled down so I could get in the living room. Because you converted the den into my bedroom so I didn't have to go upstairs. Because you built that bathroom add-on–"
"Artie," she interrupted, inching to the edge of the couch to address him. "You did those things. They were all your suggestions. We thought we'd have to move, remember? Look, I didn't know how to handle your needs. So you adapted, and you will adapt in New York. Or L.A., if that's what you choose. So what's the real reason you don't want to go?"
After a bit of real soul searching, he finally said, "I don't want to leave you alone. Dad works all the time. Amy's moving to Colorado..."
"Oh, Amy isn't moving to Colorado, hun," she interrupted. "At least, not any time soon. I encouraged her to look into the cost of an apartment, the cost of gas, the cost of food, a typical first-year teacher's salary..." Nancy shook her head and smiled. "She's not even sure about teaching anymore. I suggested she move back home and maybe take some substitute teaching jobs to see if there's anything she would want to teach after that."
"Oh."
"Artie, I always think back to you getting that little camcorder and documenting your rehab days," she added, with a fond smile at the memory. "I remember worrying that nothing would replace soccer for you. And then the look on your face, when you had us all in stitches with your exposé piece about the food in rehab, that was the first time I'd seen you look as happy as you used to when you scored a goal..." she trailed off, blinking back tears as she spoke. Likewise, a lump had risen in Artie's throat as he heard the memory told from his mother's perspective.
"You're going," she added, firmly.
"I love you," was all Artie could manage to get out. And, since he couldn't jump up and hug her, she took care of that, rising to close the distance between them as she stooped and wrapped her arms around him.
"I love you, too," she said, and then backing up, she held him at arm's length by the shoulders. "And if you ever imply again that I'm an old hag, I'm gonna tip you over."
"Er, right," said Artie, as his mother gave him a most satisfied expression before leaving the room. But even though Kitty's way of breaking the news was a little different than how he'd planned to do it, it accomplished the same thing. And, since L.A. was most assuredly out, that left him one possible path. He did a little spin in his chair. "Going to New York!"
"So, not L.A.?" Yet another surprise voice entered the room, and Artie was stunned to see his dad was home today. Smiling, he also stooped to hug him.
"They actually... both accepted me," Artie said, in a way that felt pretty anticlimactic after all of his worrying.
His father nodded, as though he expected this, which blew Artie's mind. Nobody was surprised that the two most prestigious film schools in the country had both accepted him. On the other hand, being a handi-capable honor student had probably afforded him an edge.
"But L.A. would be really horrible for someone like me," he added. "Transportation and accessibility were definitely an afterthought there. At least New York seems to have made it a priority."
"Well, sure," his father agreed. "Especially when most people there don't drive their own cars. Public transit has to be a priority, and it also has to work for everyone." He winked down at him. "And don't worry about your mother being alone when I'm at work – I overheard."
"Oh..." Now Artie was a little embarrassed. He hadn't meant to imply that Dad's work schedule essentially made his mother a single parent. But, well, it did kind of feel that way sometimes.
"Who was the girl?" his dad wanted to know. "I was upstairs working when she came in –" (His dad sometimes used his old bedroom as a makeshift office during rare, work-from-home times.) "– so I peeked over the railing and noticed she looked familiar. Has she been at the parties?"
Artie nodded. "And you'd know Kitty from the musical," he said. "Sandy. You know, the lead in 'Grease.'" He had to add that part because he was pretty certain his dad knew very little about musicals, even musicals that were popular movies in the 70's.
"Well, she seems rather..." John searched for the word, as Artie waited with curiousity at how his father might describe the situation. "Er, um, invested in your future. Don't you find that interesting?"
Artie played it cool. "I guess?"
His dad just grinned a dorky-dad grin down at him, as Artie pretended not to find anything unusual about Kitty's house call. He ruffled Artie's hair. "Well, I'm supposed to pick up our takeout for dinner," he said. "Your mom ordered Chinese. Why don't you come along for the ride and tell me more about this Kitty."