The chapel was filled to capacity with friends and family for the event. Flowers and arrangements littered the stage near the pulpit, candles glowed gently in the dim light, and beautiful music played quietly from the church's pipe organ. Tears hung in the eyes of the patrons as they made their way to the pews. Arnold inhaled a sharp, shaky breath as he used the mirror in the near empty hallway to straighten his bow tie.
"This is it." He whispered to himself before running a unsteady hand through his blonde hair. "No turning back." He was startled by a sudden hand on his shoulder.
"You ready for this?" Gerald asked his best friend with a pained smile. Arnold turned back to his reflection and continued to smooth the wrinkles from his best suit.
"Not really." He admitted quietly. "I've been dreading this day for the past two weeks, but there's nothing that can be done now. It's too late."
Gerald squeezed Arnold's shoulder reassuringly. "It's ok, man. We're all behind you on this. You know that, don't you?"
Arnold turned from the mirror to face his friend before answering, "Of course I do. It really means a lot to me that you guys all came."
"Are you kidding?" Gerald accused jokingly, "We wouldn't have missed this for the world."
"You ok, Short Man?" Grandpa Phil peeked his head out of the doorway. "People are starting to wonder where you ran off to. We're about to start now."
"I'm fine, Grandpa. I'll be there in a second."
"Can I have a quick word with my grandson?" Phil asked turning his attention to Gerald.
The teen gave a quick thumbs up. "Sure thing, Grandpa. I'll see you guys in there." Gerald hurried in to find a seat and Arnold returned to his reflection to straighten his tie once more, light reflecting gently off the pink satin.
"Poor confused kid, thinks I'm his grandpa." Phil mumbled to no one in particular.
"I'm not sure I'm ready for this Grandpa." Arnold muttered honestly. "I don't know if I can do this."
"Sure you can, Arnold. Sure you can." Phil assured him. "It's like the advice my father always gave me: Never eat raspberries." Arnold wasn't sure what that had to do with the given situation and didn't get a chance to ask as his grandfather continued, "You can do it Short Man. Just take a deep breath and muster all the courage you possibly can. No matter what happens, your grandma and I are here for you."
"Thanks, Grandpa." Arnold replied meekly. Phil smiled and went back into the chapel while Arnold gathered what strength he could. He took a few deep breaths before grabbing the bouquet of flowers he'd brought with him and pushed open the chapel doors.
It seemed like everyone turned to gawk at him. He kept his eyes glued to the floor making a quick glance every now and then to another teary face as he slunk up the aisle. His shoulders stooped as he trudged to the front of the chapel and plopped haphazardly into his empty seat in the first pew.
Grandpa pulled him close for a quick hug as the preacher rose from his place on the stand and approached the pulpit. He paused for a moment as the quiet chatter ceased, cleared his throat, and took a deep breath.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of someone taken from us far too soon. A bright scholar, a good friend , a sweet sister and a loving daughter. Our very own Helga Geraldine Pataki."
3 Months Earlier-
"Ha!" Helga snarled from behind the catcher's mask. "You couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if you were standing 10 feet in front of it!"
Arnold rolled his eyes bitterly and waited patiently for the pitcher to do his job. He watched the pitcher give a small nod before hurling the ball. Arnold swung for the second time, missing it completely.
"Nice job, Football Head. Maybe you should adopt a hobby more your speed, like ballet." Helga scoffed watching as the ears of the young man in front of her turned a signature shade of scarlet.
"Come on Arnold!" Gerald shouted from the bench, "Focus!"
Arnold took a deep breath before taking stance again, the bat barely hovering over his shoulder. He tightened his grip as he watched one side of the subtle conversation between Harold, who stood smugly on the pitcher's mound, either shaking or nodding quietly and Helga who kept herself busy by throwing small clods of dirt at the elongated head in front of her.
"Yeah, Arnoooold!" Harold cooed, "Go put on your pretty pink tutu, Arnold!" He laughed loudly, shaking his oversized gut like the red gelatin that stained his white shirt.
"Just throw the ball, Harold." Arnold grumbled preparing for the inevitable pitch.
"Fine, fine. Don't get your tights in a bunch, Arnoooold!" Harold stood stoic and focused for a moment before winding up for the pitch.
Arnold watched carefully as Harold swung his arm across his chest, releasing the large, white speeding bullet. He held his breath and stood perfectly still, watching that ball like a hawk watching its unsuspecting prey. Arnold felt his muscles tense a split second before releasing like a slingshot pulled back to its limit. Everyone watched with bated breath as Arnold swung hard, eliciting an ear-splitting crack as the ball and bat connected. All the occupants of the Gerald Field lot watched as the ball flew over everyone's heads and straight for Eugene, playing center field.
"Eugene! You'd better catch that ball or I'll force feed it to you!" Helga screamed at the bumbling redheaded boy.
"I've got it! I've got it!" Eugene declared joyfully as he ran backwards, keeping an eye on his prize. Eugene lowered his mitt just in time to catch a small gopher hole with his cleat, trip backwards and feel the bone-crushing force of a baseball hitting what felt like terminal velocity against his skull.
Both teams 'Oo'ed in collective pain felt for Eugene and the very real concussion he'd likely have.
"I'm okay..." He mumbled as the ball came to a halt near him.
"Nice job, Football Head." Helga spat while watching Arnold's face fall. "Good thing he already has a metal plate in his head otherwise he'd be visiting the morgue instead of the hospital."
Arnold trotted to where Eugene lay in the grass and knelt beside his long time friend.
"Eugene! Eugene!" Arnold called shaking the dazed and confused jinx.
"Oh hi, Arnold. Wow, I didn't know you were a triplet."
Arnold frowned. "Game over, guys." He called to his friends, "We'd better take Eugene to the hospital."
"Oh no, Arnold...and, Arnold's brothers," He added with a slight pause, "I'll be just fine. I can always use my life alert bracelet if I really need to. I just need to go home and lie down."
"Are you sure?" Arnold inquired skeptically as the other team members gathered around the two of them.
"Oh absolutely, this happens all the time."
"Come on, Eugene." Sheena cut in. "I'll walk you home."
"Wow, Sheena, that's so nice of you. See you later guys!" Eugene hollered as he stumbled away, leaning against the brunette for support.
Arnold stood up, holding the ball loosely in his fingers, staring in the direction Sheena and Eugene had gone.
"Don't feel bad, man. This sort of thing always happens to Eugene." Gerald said nonchalantly in an attempt to comfort his friend.
"Yeah," Stinky added in a thick drawl, "On account of Eugene being a jinx and all."
"Well, I'm blowing this popsicle stand." Helga announced with an air of finality. "Come on, Pheebs."
"Coming!" Phoebe chirped scurrying to collect her things. "Gerald, are you coming over to my house tonight? I still have the final touches of my science project to complete. I could use some assistance if you care to join me."
Gerald smiled, a slight blush tingeing his cheeks. He and Phoebe had only been dating for a couple weeks and he still felt a little shy about the whole thing.
"I'd love to help, but aren't you hanging out with Helga tonight?"
"Oh not at all. Helga is going to some social function this evening."
"Popsicles! That reminds me, I'm so hungry!" Harold whined.
"Whoa, Helga has a social life?" Sid leered. "Since when?"
"I'm going clubbing, dipshit, not that it's any of your business."
"Don't you have to be 18 to even get into clubs?" Arnold asked, handing the ball to Harold.
"I'm not interested in going to any of those sissy clubs, Arnoldo. I'm going to The Shack."
"But isn't that one of those '21 and over' clubs that serves alcohol?"
"Your point?"
"You're 17, Helga.
"Look, Football Head," Helga snapped jabbing her addressor in the chest with her index finger, "the day I take moral advice from you is the day Sid's nose stops looking like a penis. Piss off!" Helga stormed away as the group stared at her disappearing figure.
Arnold," Gerald griped as the two walked back from the field, "Why Do you always have to set Helga off like that? Why can't you just let it be?"
"I don't know." The blonde admitted, "I just can't help it." Arnold rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. "Even though I know she hates my guts I still feel protective of her, like I do with all my friends."
"Why do you suppose that is?" Gerald responded curiously, watching Arnold out of the corner of his eye.
"I-I don't know. I just don't want her to get hurt, you know?" Gerald raised a lone brow, but said nothing as Arnold continued. "I mean, yeah she makes fun of me and throws stuff at me and still torments me even in our senior year of high school, but I still want to help her."
"You're a bold kid, Arnold. I don't understand you, but you're a bold kid."
"Thanks Gerald. I'll see you at school Monday. have fun at Phoebe's."
"Yeah, sure. Thanks man. See you tomorrow."
The music was ear-splittingly loud, just the way Helga liked it. Some weird, Euro-trance blared over the speakers while lights flashed and twirled with the beat. Helga grabbed an Absinthe test tube from a random table and threw back the contents, making a slight face as the alcohol burned her throat. She leaned comfortably against a wall watching the crowd scream in delight as the DJ changed the song to something that, Helga could only assume, must have been popular.
"Here again?" A voice next to Helga commented casually. Helga didn't have to look up to know who it was. The guy had talked to her many times in the past since she had started coming here. Not that she had ever really responded to his questions.
"What's it to you?"She growled glaring at the guy out of the corner of her eye as he leaned beside her, hands in his black, leather jacket pockets.
"Nice to see you too, Babe." He replied with a smirk.
"Go away."Helga hissed.
The man laughed at her response. He found Helga's callous and aloof behavior rather refreshing compared to the slutty bimbos who practically threw themselves at his feet. Her defenses had proven difficult to penetrate, but he had always enjoyed a challenge.
"My name's Reggie." He offered his hand in greeting.
Helga looked at his outstretched hand, then up at him, looking him square in the eye before turning her gaze back to the crowd, rejecting his hand. "So you've said before. What do you want, a medal?"
"Maybe. I think this is the most conversation we've had in the past few months."
Helga rolled her eyes in mild annoyance.
"You're not going to give me your name?" Reggie asked in an amused tone.
"Have I the last twelve times you've asked?"
"But the thirteenth time's the charm." He replied with a smoldering grin that would have made most girls knees buckle. Helga merely smiled in vague amusement then covered it up with a cough. "Ok, no name. How about a dance?"
"Psh!" Helga snorted, "Not likely."
"I wasn't talking about with me." Reggie replied, changing tactics. "You probably couldn't dance anyway with how far that stick is shoved up your ass."
He knew that had worked when he felt himself being slammed up against a wall. "Excuse me?" Helga seethed maliciously.
"Aw, did I hit a nerve, 'Stick-butt'?"
"The name's Helga G. Pataki! And don't you forget it!"
"Helga G. Pataki," Reggie repeated thoughfully, "What does the 'G' stand for?"
"None of your goddamn business!" Helga spat before dropping him like a sack of potatoes.
"Well, that proves it then." Reggie mumbled loud enough for Helga to hear.
"What proves what?" She asked, daring him to insult her.
"I could clearly dance circles around someone like you. All brawn, no grace."
"Oh yeah? How's this for dancing!" Helga shouted throwing a punch at him. Reggie grabbed her arm and spun her so she was facing away from him.
"Hey! What the hell? Let go of me!"
"No way!" Reggie replied twirling her out and starting to tango with her to music that was obviously not meant for that kind of dancing and the people around them began taking notice.
Helga blushed angrily. "Are you drunk or just out of your damn mind?" She growled as he dipped her.
"Probably the later considering I haven't had much to drink tonight."
"Wonderful, just what I wanted to hear." Helga said sarcastically as he sped up the tempo to closer match the beat of the techno now playing.
"What are you doing?" Helga snarled covering up an amused laugh.
"Dancing!" Reggie replied as if the answer should have been obvious.
Helga choked back a laugh as Reggie spun her out and back to him so she was once again pressed against him and facing away.
Then as suddenly as he had started a tango, he began to dance in a fashion more appropriate for The Shack.
Helga found herself dancing with him. She had to admit it was much more fun than leaning against the wall all evening, as per usual.
After a quick break for a few more drinks, Reggie and Helga were back out on the dance floor. After a while Helga felt herself getting a little queasy. She had never considered whether or not she would be able to handle her liquor well with the strenuous activity she was performing tonight.
She felt a bead of sweat forming on her forehead as Reggie dragged her away from the dance floor and out onto the balcony for some fresh air.
"You look terrible." Reggie smiled.
"I'll be fine, Jackass. Thanks for asking." She retorted sarcastically, "Just give me a minute." Helga slurred slightly as she clung to Reggie's arm to steady herself. Suddenly her legs gave out and She flopped right into Reggie's chest. He steadied the blonde for a moment while she found her legs again and was able to stand.
"S-sorry." She mumbled. I must be really out of it if I'm handing out apologies like condoms. Helga thought as she gingerly tested her full weight on her feet, slipping slightly to one side.
"You should be." Reggie teased, "You're getting makeup all over my favorite shirt."
Reggie ran a hand through his brown hair before looking back to Helga. She was giving him a strange look, as if she had just barely noticed he was there. He gazed back at her for a moment before she promptly threw up on his shoes.
Helga gurgled the mouthwash she kept in her purse before spitting it out on the road.
"How are your shoes?" She asked Reggie, replacing the cap and hiding the small bottle back in her bag.
"Well, they've been better, that's for certain. I'll take them to get cleaned in the morning."
"Aw, poor baby." Helga mocked.
"Baby? I'm not the one who just 'spit up' all over everywhere." Reggie shot back.
"Well, I'm not the one covered in 'spit up'." Helga retorted.
Reggie opened his mouth to reply, then closed it after a second. "Touché."
They leaned up against the bumper of his car in silence for a moment before Helga noticed Reggie was staring at her. She turned to chew him out, but before she could say anything he covered her mouth with his.
Helga felt a jolt of surprise shoot up her spine causing her to gasp. He took the opportunity to kiss her harder and deeper. She could taste the alcohol still on his breath as his tongue slid over hers. Helga grabbed onto the front of his jacket with both hands and pulled him close. Reggie grabbed a handful of her hair in his hand and with the other he slide his hand up the back of her shirt just enough to feel her warm skin underneath. She stifled a moan, before releasing her death grip on his jacket to run her hands through his short, brown hair.
Reggie pulled away and looked over Helga's face for a moment. "Hey, what's say you and I go somewhere a little more...private."
"Eh," Helga agreed, "Why not." Her drunken state clearly in charge of her brain. Reggie released her and ushered her into his car.
"My apartment isn't far from here." He continued. "We shouldn't be disturbed there."
"Are you good to drive?" Helga asked as they sped out of the parking lot.
Reggie turned to face her with a wide grin. "Don't worry about it."