A/N: something i wrote out of boredom. they are in elementary at the time of this story, in case you wanted to know! ;)
It's cold.
Okay, so maybe that was a little obvious. I mean, come on. When the sky's the color of dirty rags and the streets are so wet so you can see your reflection looking back at yourself when you lean over to spit or whatever, that should be kinda obvious.
So yeah.
It's cold. I'm standing outside of my house, on the stoop, which feels a bit too slippery for my liking. Petrichor perfumes the air—you know, that weird, sort of metallic scent you smell when it rains, like right now, for instance. It's a nice smell, but when you live in a city, there's car exhaust and the lovely aroma of homeless peoples' piss being added to the equation. Not so pleasant. But I'm used to it, mostly because I don't have any other choice. I am wearing a hoodie over my dress, which does jack squat in keeping me warm. Hoodie, you have failed me.
"Well," I mutter, "might as well get it over with."
I step off the stoop. A gust of wind hits me full in the face, and I don't think I can feel my skin anymore after that.
"Criminy." Thankfully I can still move my lips. "Stupid wind…couldn't I do this when it isn't, I dunno, friggin' storming outside?!"
A guy walks by, looking at me kind of weird. I need to stop talking to myself.
Oh, who cares, I counter inwardly. I'm crazy enough as it is. So it doesn't even matter.
I begin my arduous trek to the grocery store. It is about a block and a half from my place. On any other day, it's pretty easy, nice and comfortable, even. Fresh air and sunlight, all that. But when you are making the same said journey on a day like this, I may as well be walking all the way to freaking China. I hate it.
And I hate my mother, too. I don't even know if she deserves the moniker. Miriam can't even take care of her own freaking self. When she's not throwing up in the bathroom, as the usual routine goes, or sleeping behind the couch, as she usually does, she whines for me to go fetch for her more of her stupid ingredients for her 'smoothies', whatever she wants to call it. Suuure, Miriam, you've got us all fooled! Hahahahha. Ah. Ugh.
So here I am, fighting against the elements, as I make my way to the grocery store. Truly a wonderful experience. I go along the usual route, make some short cuts here and there to lessen the suffering. I walk past this seedy looking homeless guy sitting on a mat near a smoke shop, and he leers at me in a way that makes me feel naked. No thanks. I quicken my pace.
At long last, like an angel sent from the heavens, the grocery store appears before me! Sweet, sweet dryness, beautiful warmth, however short it lasts. I practically run like hell; escaping this crappy weather is basically my highest priority above all.
I push through the door, the bell thingy rings, the whole deal. The clerk at the counter smiles at me a little worriedly.
"Hello, little lady," he says, nodding to me. The fat on his neck jiggles, not a pretty sight. "You seem to be in a rush."
Man, I hate it when he calls me that. "Yeah, well, who wouldn't be in weather like this?"
"Let me guess why you're here," the clerk goes on. Ugh, he's playing one of his stupid mind games again. My desire to get this done as quick as I can grows stronger. "Still guessing…wait for it…"
Criminy, I have no time for this! Gotta get it, gotta get the stupid ingredients.
It doesn't take me long to find the hot sauce, and the whole lot of other weird crap that Miriam puts in her "smoothies", since this place is pretty tiny, and I've been here a million times, so I know the store like the back of my hand.
I sigh, loud enough for the clerk to hear. I grab the ingredients and march up to the counter, and plop them down onto the surface.
"Right, the…same stuff again. Who woulda known?" He chuckles, the fat on his neck starts jiggling again, and I begin to feel slightly ill looking at it. "Who woulda known. You know what, little lady, sometimes I stay up at night wondering why you keep getting the same stuff over and over again!"
"Oh, just ring me up, will you," I answer, with a slight edge to my voice. Sometimes my attitude gets the better of me.
The clerk, of course, is unfazed by my tone. Either he's really that nice, or he's just stupid. I like the latter.
"You're a little spitfire, didja know that?" He laughs again, rings me up, and pretty soon he bags my stuff and I'm off again.
"I hope you're happy, Miriam, sending off your sweet little Helga into the freezing rain for your stupid smoothies. I really hope you are." It feels so good, spilling it all out.
And that's also when everything flashes around me. Thunder rolls in the sky afterward, sounding like the growling of a giant stomach. Now I'm crossing my fingers that I won't get struck…although that does sound a little inviting at the moment. Lightning is nice and warm anyway.
"Such is my life," I lament, trotting through the rain, which is getting kind of intense. I can only pray the ingredients will come back home nice and dry. "Being the mother to the woman who is supposed to be your mother. What have I done to deserve this—"
The next thing I know I collide head on with another body in front of me. A kid slams into my chest and I nearly fall over, all breath knocked out of my lungs.
Oh, great, and I've dropped the bag too. Just my luck!
"Watch where you're going, bucko!" My day has just gotten worse, tenfold, all thanks to this idiot! "Are you blind?"
"Sorry, Helga." The kid looks up at me. "But to be honest, I'd think anyone would be blind in this weather."
Wait a second…
That…that voice…!
Could it be…?
"Are those your groceries?"
Oh, yes, it is him! Like an angel sent from the heavens, the love of my life appears before me! The soaking wet, slightly bedraggled love of my life, but he is mine, mine, mine, nonetheless.
"I'm really sorry I knocked them down like that." Arnold's voice is like music. I could just sing. "Here, I'll pick them up for you."
"Yeah, well, you should be sorry, hair boy," I answer, secretly rejoicing in his presence. "I was just about to lose it."
He helps me pick up the groceries—oh god, oh god, somebody hold me, he helps me pick them up, and they're all soaked, but what does it matter? My sweet, sweet love is standing next to me, and I am so close to him, our bodies nearly touch…
Oh, be still, my beating heart.
"Oh, great. They're soaked through. Gee, what a great day this is all turning out to be."
"I'm pretty sure they're fine, Helga," says Arnold, and I melt to the sweet cadence of his voice. If only I could just kiss him, to take his angelic face into my hands and just kiss his lovely lips, that would be heaven…
He hands them back to me, and our hands touch briefly…oh, if I were to die, right now, at this very moment, I would die in pure bliss.
"You seem pretty wet," he says, after we're done picking up the stuff. "Maybe I could walk you home, if you don't mind…?"
Oh, yes! Yes! Yes! Take me Arnold, take me now! I cry in my head; the magnitude of my happiness is immeasurable.
"Whatever floats your boat, football head," I answer. "Just make it quick. I can't afford standing out in the friggin rain any longer.
"Here, you can share my umbrella," says Arnold, as he unfurls it. "It'll keep the rain off your back. Because, man, Helga, just look at yourself…you're sopping wet. I can't just sit by and watch you get soaked like that."
"Geez, Arnold, I didn't know you cared that much about me," I drawl, and honestly, I'm so glad he does!
"Why are you even out here in the first place?" he asks me, as we make our way home.
"Ugh…had to go fetch more ingredients for my so-called mother…I swear, she's an adult and she can't even get off the friggin couch."
Arnold gives me a look of his deepest sympathy, with those beautiful emerald orbs. "I'm really sorry about that, Helga," he says pityingly. "You know…sometimes I find myself thinking about you…"
I feel like I'm walking on clouds. Clouds and air, and the sunlight on my back, beautiful, beautiful, luminous sunlight…I begin to feel warm all over. Why? Because Arnold, my one and only, thinks about me, actually thinks about me, and not in a negative light! Oh, just imagine that!
"…and what you're going through, and I've got to say…whatever you are going through, Helga, just remember that I'm always here for you, okay?"
Oh Arnold, oh, my darling Arnold, my sweet prince, if only you knew what you are doing to my heart at this very moment…
"Why should you even care? I mean, I constantly shoot spitballs at the back of your head in class." And there's truth to these words…sometimes I don't even know how I'm deserving of his kindness. "Criminy, I could just make a list of the crap I do to you…"
"So? I mean, Helga, I'm pretty sure you don't mean anything you say to me, or to anyone else for that matter…actually, I think you're a really nice girl, underneath all that meanness. And seeing the situation you're going through at home…" He smiles a little nervously, scratches the back of his head. "I don't know…sometimes I really want to just reach out to you, you know? Help you out a little."
Please don't let this be a dream! I try my hardest not to wrap my arms around Arnold and just hug the little guy, he's just so damn nice I worry for him sometimes.
"Well…" I murmur, the edges of my mouth twitching. "I guess that's nice of you, hair boy. At least someone takes some measly time out of their day to care about me, of all people."
Arnold smiles at me. "I just can't help it," he answers. "I mean, you seem kind of lonely sometimes."
Then it's all silence, silence afterward, save for the sound of the rain hitting the sodden sidewalks, our footsteps, and the hum of thunder in the sky. I savor this moment between me and Arnold…honestly, I savor any time we're alone together. It's just one of those things that you can't help but cling to.
"Heh…this really takes me back, Helga," Arnold says casually. "Remember back in preschool? When we first met? It was raining and you were there, all wet…"
"Oh." My stomach gives a lurch. "Uh, yeah. That."
"I think I said something about your bow. Then I shared my umbrella with you. Jeez, it's all coming back to me now, Helga, honestly."
Oh, yes…I remember that moment like it was yesterday. I've clung to it ever since. I just fell for you so hard, Arnold, when you did that. I can't even begin to describe how much that all meant to me! I want to say that to him, all of that, tell him how I feel about him, but…that'd be kind of weird, honestly. Just coming out of the blue like that, from the girl who pretends to hate him. Seriously…
"Yeah, that…that was nice of you," I mutter, my voice barely audible through the sound of the car horns and the rain and thunder.
Arnold chuckles lightly, and his laughter kisses my ears. "You cold?"
"W-What? No." And—bang!—just like that, the cold comes back to me in full force, like some big truck slamming into you. "I-I can tough it out."
"You're shivering."
"Am not!"
"Helga." He gives me a very coy look—oh Arnold, damn it, stop doing that to me! "You are."
"W-Well, you know what, football head? Y-You can just—" The wind on my back is killing me, oh man. "—s-shut up…"
His face softens, and he looks at me in a way that makes my heart race.
"It's okay," he reassures me. "I'm cold too."
And then.
And then—
And then—
I'm suddenly swaddled in his scarf, and we're sharing the scarf, me and him, and his body is against mine and I can feel his breath on my neck, and, oh, oh, oh, our hands are touching…!
If my mind was a train, then it has just derailed, straight off the tracks. I'm pretty sure I can't even process a single rational thought anymore, not when your love is just so close to you like that. This moment, once only the stuff of my dreams; but now, suddenly, a reality.
Somebody hold me, please…
"What are you doing," I practically blubber out. "What are—are you doing—"
"What does it look like?" he answers. "Keeping you warm." He peers at me, all concerned like. "You're…you're okay with this, right?"
"Well, since." I am stuttering. I am literally stuttering, so therefore I'm basically sort of kinda betraying my real feelings to this whole thing. Funny how you just mess things up at the most vital of times, right? "Since. It's like below zero out here, I guess I have no choice but to cling to you, Arnoldo."
I'm blushing, which is thankfully hidden under my hair. Thank you hair, for saving me in a time like this, from betraying to him my deepest, darkest secret!
And so we stand there, in the rain, sharing the umbrella, the scarf. It's so perfect, this moment, this single, beautiful moment. How I wish it could just last forever. And Arnold, oh, my Arnold, how I love him…
"Feel better?" he asks, smiling up at me.
I shrug. "I guess."
"I'll take that as a yes." He presses up closer to me. "Anyway, we're not that far from your place now. Just a few more blocks..."
I'd walk a million blocks if it only means being with you, my love.
"Yeah. A few more blocks," I repeat, almost mindlessly, and, for the first time in a while, I allow myself to smile at him.
And Arnold, he looks surprised for a moment, but he returns the favor.