Good evening, ladies and gentlemen; also, good evening to my kind assistant, Phoebe. (Konichiwa, Ramiro, and the same goes for all the people reading this work of fiction) Thanks, Pheebs. Can you please say the disclaimer?
(Saying; DISCLAIMER; the following story was written without financial intentions, and has no purposes besides entertainment. Ramiro doesn't claim the ownership of any character portrayed in the story, all of us copyrighted by Nickelodeon.)
Thanks again; okay, as Phoebe mentioned, all the characters are copyrighted by Nickelodeon, including some from other series. (In deed, as he just mentioned, this story is from the 'crossover' type, meaning we'll have guest stars from other animated series. To make our series fit with that one, we, the characters from Hey, Arnold!, will be portrayed as young teens on the 13-14 years old age range.) Maybe I should ask for your assistance when writing stories from other series, Phoebe; you're quite efficient. (Arigato, Ramiro, but I think Helga wouldn't take nicely if I stopped being her sidekick to become your full time assistant. She's my best friend, my boss… and someone who would go 'Old Betsy' on you.) Good point.
Also, I have to thank Hellerick Ferlibay, who reviewed my previous Hey, Arnold! fic, for suggesting the main idea for this one.
Anyway, I think it's enough for an author note. Phoebe, please start the story. (Starting; I think the proper phrase in this particular situation is… On with the show!)
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When Blondes Collide
A 'Hey, Arnold!' story by Acosta Pérez José Ramiro
- California Girl.
"Olga, wake up! You're late for school!"
"I'm already up, Bob! Criminey, maybe Dad should go to school instead of me; with some luck he may learn my name." The thirteen year old girl said the last part to herself as walking downstairs, hoping her mother had remembered to make breakfast… or at least, buying groceries so she could grab something for lunch.
Helga hadn't changed that much since her Elementary years; she was a lot taller, of course, and a little more attractive (even if conserving the unibrow she inherited from her dad), as she could tell from the looks she got at times from boys her age, but her attitude and personality were pretty much the same; she still was bossy, mean, and madly in love with a certain football headed boy she bullied and insulted on a regular basis; she also kept her tomboyish nature, but also her taste for pink, sweaters and shirts that color being her usual dressing choice, as well as wearing a pink lace to hold the pony tail that replaced her pig tails' hairdo since she turned 11; to Helga, wearing the most girlish color was her way to remind people that, despite her being the least feminine girl around, and being proud of it, she was still a female.
Helga entered the kitchen, finding her mother sleeping at the table. The teen sighed and started looking for something to eat; not too surprisingly, Miriam forgot to buy groceries, which meant Bob, who was currently at his room checking his Beeper King's outfit, would need to eat breakfast at work, and Helga would eat an apple right now and thank whatever powers in charge that she had enough money to buy lunch at the cafeteria. Ironically, the only one who would have breakfast that morning was the non-human inhabitant of the house, and just because Helga never forgot to buy his meal at Mister Green's place; the blonde took some raw meat out from the fridge, heated it in the microwave, just a little bit, and went to the house's rooftop, where she built, with her best friend's help, a good shelter for her pet.
"Here, Zilla, breakfast time." Helga said to her monitor lizard, that left his resting place to eat the guts and chicken necks his owner brought. "You're lucky, little monster; I'm just having an apple but, well, I take care of you a lot better Miriam does with me… pathetic, uh?" Helga chuckled a little bit while petting her lizard, who gave her a half-amused look before going back to his meal.
Helga never thought she would get fond on the animal, especially since she only bought it due one of her 'desperate measures' episodes to cover her deepest secret, but when Zilla, as she finally decided to call him, ate the annoying parrot that kept repeating her last love rant and almost revealed her secret crush, the then 9 years old girl got an immediate liking for the reptile. Sure, it wasn't exactly the prettiest pet, but it was kind of cool and Helga liked its attitude, not to mention that this particular species was a major rat predator and had a taste for pigeons as well, two major pros for Helga. Miriam, as usual, was pretty apathetic about the animal's presence, and the girl got Bob's permission to keep it by telling her father he could use it in posters and commercials for his business, reminding him that some TV salesmen used wild animals to promote their products; the man liked the idea and used the lizard at times, even giving Helga money for the animal's food and material for its shelter, where Zilla lived most of the year, except during Winter, when Helga improvised a space for him at her own room to protect the tropical animal from cold weather. The blonde even allowed Zilla to get out of the shelter and move freely around the house when knowing Bob would be out all day and therefore wouldn't be annoyed if finding the lizard resting at his couch.
Helga left her house a few minutes later, carrying her backpack, and headed to the bus stop, meeting with her best friend on the way.
"G'morning, Pheebs."
"Konichiwa, Helga." Phoebe greeted her friend as they walked to the bus stop. "Are you excited about the start of a new school year?"
"Not really, Phoebe; it's the same old thing every year; dumb classmates, boring lessons and annoying teachers." Helga groaned. "You must be the only person I know that gets excited with this."
"What can I say? The intellectual stimulation and social interaction are quite enjoyable and an important part of a healthy psychological and emotional development."
"Yeah, what nice; do me a favor and never change, Pheebs." Helga couldn't help but get a little smile at the shorter girl's comment.
"Not changing," The little Asian grinned back at her friend.
Certainly, Phoebe hadn't changed too much; she still wore glasses, kept a short hairdo, was the class' shortest girl, and, by far, the smartest student; blue was still her favorite color, evident by the sweater and long skirt she was wearing, but stopped using her mini-bun years ago, replacing it with occasional caps and hair clips; today she was using a white flower hair clip, one of her favorites. Despite her obvious position at the school's social scale, Phoebe, unlike most well-behaved, nerdy, or simply highly intelligent alumni, was never subject of bullying or insulting due three facts; her friendship with Helga, who was both her boss and personal bodyguard; her very image, that somehow made all her close friends to protect and take care of her (the whole 'protecting the smallest one' mentality); and, finally, her father being a Kendo teacher and Phoebe his best student; give the girl a simple stick, even a broom, and she would use it as efficiently as a Jedi with a light saber.
"You actually made a good point, Phoebe. At least at school I'm important; everyone knows better before messing with or disobeying me; otherwise my other best friend gets into action." Helga said as giving her left fist a half-amused look.
In reality, Helga usually didn't need to hit anyone aside from the occasional very annoying guy and the regular asthmatic stalker, but her temper and attitude were more than enough to scare people trying to defy her authority; add the fact she knew several effective wrestling moves and some guys from school saw her buying a punching bag a couple of years ago (something she still kept at her room for exercising and relieving some anger) and the result was that almost everyone at school, even from higher grades, didn't dare going against the blonde.
Yes, Helga was almost a stranger at her own house, but, at school, she was one of the main authority figures.
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"We are almost there, Princess."
"How exciting," The blond teen sighed and rolled her eyes; normally, she wouldn't use sarcasm with her father, but this was a special case. "Hope it's not a dumpster like everything else in this town."
The girl took out her hand mirror to give herself a fast look; she was pretty, knew it and took full advantage of this whenever possible, but this time felt so angry and moody the simple pleasure of admiring herself did little to improve her disposition.
"Sweetie," the girl turned at her dad, who now had a more serious and almost apologetic face, "I know this is hard for you, but… the other option was leaving you with your cousins for several months, and your mother and I wouldn't stand not having you around that long."
"I know, Dad, it's just that… I worked very hard at my old school to get a reputation and now have to start from zero. Not to mention I know nobody here."
"This is just a temporary solution, until getting you a place at a private school. Besides, one of your mother's investors said this place is good; his daughter studies here and enjoys it."
"Probably because she has friends here," the blonde sighed. "Never thought I would say this, but… I miss them; all of them."
"We'll return home for your next semester, promise; once we finish our business here, we'll go back to California." The middle-aged man rubbed his eyes under his glasses, "I miss my brother and your grandpa as well."
The blonde said nothing until her dad parked in front of the school; it was the basic square building, with two smaller ones at the sides (the hall and the gym, she guessed), nothing like the more stylish one she used to attend. Then again, Hillwood's weather was surely colder than California's, so this kind of building was probably the best option.
"Now, Princess, remember; even if this is a new school, teens are the same everywhere. Just act like usual and you'll fit perfectly." The blonde turned at her dad's smiling face, getting a little grin as well.
"Okay, but don't be surprised if I leave someone teeth-less if messing with me."
"I thought you would say something like that." The man chuckled a little bit before giving the girl an affective kiss on her forehead. "Stay out of problems, okay?"
The girl nodded and walked down the car; her hair was shoulder-length, and was wearing several bracelets, blue jeans, red sandals and earrings, and an orange top. After walking a few steps, a red haired freckled boy, with a large nose, and considerably shorter than her, got distracted by the blonde's looks, forgetting about the flag pole in front of him.
WHACK!
"I'm okay…" the boy groaned as rubbing his forehead, the blonde chuckling at the scene.
"That brings back some memories." The girl sighed and got a wide grin. "Dad is right; this is just another school, and I can handle these losers. If I'm getting stuck in this dumpster, at least I'll be the Dumpster Queen."
The girl's thoughts got cut when colliding with another blonde, a little taller than herself, who was just walking down the bus.
"Hey, watch out, girl! All that makeup is messing with your sight?" Helga snapped at the newcomer, who didn't feel intimidated by her and replied with a similar tone.
"No; and you should watch out as well, Flamingo Girl!"
"Flamingo… oh, you're so…"
"Helga, please, don't you start; you don't want getting detention before even starting the first day, right?" Phoebe restrained her friend, who dropped her fist yet kept glaring at the other blonde.
"Better make a shrine for my friend, girl, because she just saved your sorry butt from a destiny worse than death." Helga poked the other blonde's chest, the girls glaring at each other.
"What? Using clothing that looks like Barney The Dinosaur's vomit?"
"Keep talking like that and you'll not survive until lunch time." Helga gave the girl a last glare and walked away with Phoebe (who gave the newcomer an apologetic face) next to her, the Pataki girl shoving aside the people who had gathered to see the little argument; nobody on his/her right mind argued Helga.
"You're new around here, right?" The blonde turned to see an Afro-American boy, about one head taller than her, with a short Afro hair-do, a red basketball shirt and blue jeans (Typical jock, the girl thought), with a slightly shorter blond boy next to him; this one wore a blue sweater, had medium-sized, messy hair, and, what amazed the blonde the most, a football shaped head.
"If this guy wasn't born via cesarean, his mother deserves a medal!" The blonde thought before replying"Yes, why do you say it? Not used to girls this pretty around here?"
"No; not used to anyone messing with Helga Pataki. Everyone in this school knows better to insult her, unless you aren't fond on your arms." The Afro-American smirked while the blond boy rolled his eyes.
"Gerald, don't start with that. Helga isn't that bad."
"She dissimulates it quite well." Gerald replied smugly while the blond boy offered his hand to the girl.
"Sorry about that; Helga can be very short-tempered at times. Welcome to our school; my friend here is Gerald, and I'm Arnold."
The girl shrugged and shook Arnold's hand; they didn't seem like the super-popular type but didn't appear to be on the losers' category, so were fine enough in the girl's book.
"Angelica Pickles; don't make fun of the surname and I'll not say a thing about the head."