Pink Heels
"Oh, Baby Sister, you look incredible!"
Helga rolled her eyes at her older sister. She didn't think she looked so great, all Olga had done was put a little make-up on and flat ironed her long, platinum blonde hair. Olga had come back to town for the weekend, and it was "just a coincidence" that it was the same weekend as Helga's first Homecoming Dance.
"You just need one last thing," Olga began searching through her closet, tossing out pairs of multicolored heels.
"I'm not wearing heels," Helga replied indignantly, rising from Olga's vanity.
"Yes, you must! I got you in a dress, I think I can get you into heels." Olga smiled at her sister. After years of a difficult, distant relationship, Olga finally found a way to reach Helga. Olga toughened her stance, never backing down or acknowledging her sisters insults. Olga knew Helga was a sweetheart with a rough outer shell.
"I don't think so."
"Yes," Olga threw a shoe box at her sister. "Put them on, they're perfect." Helga stared at her sister, nose crinkled in disgust until she finally sighed.
"I hate how demanding you've become."
"All for you, Baby Sister. Now hurry up, I'm gonna drop you off at the dance before meeting Mom and Dad for a late dinner."
Helga removed the lid from the box, only to stare at the pink five-inch heels resting in the box. "Is this a joke?"
Olga turned up from searching her purse for her keys, only to laugh. "Not at all. Those are my lucky heels."
"You're crazy," Helga replied as she handed the box back. Olga simply pushed them back into her sister's chest.
"Put them on in the car. Just trust me."
Helga sighed again before following her sister down the stairs and to her car. She snapped her seat belt on, wrinkling her strapless, light pink, bubble skirt dress. She reluctantly slipped into the heels, surprised to see how well they fit.
"Are these your lucky heels because you haven't broken an ankle in them?"
Olga laughed as she pulled into the parking lot, "Something like that." Olga waved as Helga slowly made her way to the gym, anxious about falling.
"Helga!"
Helga hesitantly spun around only to feel Phoebe's petite arms wrap around her waist and hug her tightly. "You said you wouldn't be coming!"
Helga laughed. "I changed my mind. You still up for an after dance sleep over?"
"Of course! We can go back to my house!"
Phoebe hugged her best friend tightly again.
"Relax, relax, Phoebe," Helga gently shoved her off, careful not to mess up her curled hair.
"Right, sorry. Come on, everyone's already inside."
Helga still walked slowly, scared about tripping and breaking an ankle. Luckily, her arrival went unnoticed and she slipped into the background while Phoebe went to find her date, Gerald.
As Helga walked along the padded wall of the gym, she felt her eyes set on Arnold. He stood on the opposite end of the gym, talking with a few sophomores from their art class. It was the only class she had with Arnold and she loved every second of it. Helga's heart began racing as she continued to watch Arnold. He was dressed simply, like most of the other guys, in black pants and a white button down shirt. He wore a skinny red tie and a confident smile.
She quickly turned away when she realized he was looking at her. Helga made her way to the drink table, trying to slow her actions down from a panicked rush to a smooth motion of grabbing ice out of a container. She heard someone moving behind her and quickly poured herself a cup of Yahoo soda. Even though the music was loud, Helga heard the other person perfectly clear.
"Oh, hey, Helga. I didn't recognize you," Rhonda smiled. Helga resisted the urge to roll her eyes and simply smiled.
"Hey, Rhonda." Even though it had been three or four months during their first year of high school, Rhonda had made her way to the top of the social ladder. Her best friend was still Nadine, and things were still the same as fourth grade. Rhonda still acted like a princess, Eugene still tripped over air, Harold was still overweight, Stinky was still country, and Lila was still perfect.
Helga had thought she had changed. She learned to control her temper, with the help of Dr. Bliss, and she stopped her private monologues to Arnold's locket. The locket was in the back of her closet, which she cleaned out. There was no more shrine, now it was a chair and a stack of her pink poetry books.
"Well, see you later," Rhonda's words brought Helga back to focusing on the drink table. Helga didn't even notice she had been talking.
"Bye," Helga replied softly.
Helga dropped her empty cup on the drink table, turning and heading towards the other side of the gym. She had noticed that Arnold had moved, so she knew it would be safe. She did not want to trip in front of him.
The beginning half of the night passed by uneventfully. Phoebe had managed to drag Helga onto the dance floor for a few songs, but she mostly hung back and watched the hilarity of the boy's dancing. It was just after eleven p.m., the dance would be ending at midnight.
"Hey, watch it!" a deep male voice called, shoving poor Eugene back a few steps. Helga, realizing the commotion, tried to side step the falling fool. Instead, he collapsed into her, bringing her down to the floor. She fell at an awkward angle since she had been trying to avoid him, her weight had been completely set onto her turning right ankle.
Her back pressed to the dirty gym floor, pain shooting into her sprained right ankle. Helga's fists clenched tightly, turning her knuckles white. Her eyes were shut as she tried to ignore the gasps and cries of the fellow Hillwood High students. The pain in her ankle was incredible, she felt a scream building up in her lungs.
"Ohmigod, Helga!" Phoebe fell to her knees, immediately picking her injured friend's head up.
"I'm okay," she lied. Eugene was quickly picked up off of Helga. He began apologizing profusely, but Helga shrugged it off. She was mad as hell, but she knew it wasn't his fault.
"Can you walk on it?" Phoebe asked.
Helga slowly rose to her feet, right leg shaking slightly as she flattened it on the bottom. Seconds later, she realized it was a mistake. "No," she wailed, leaning to her left.
"Well, maybe if you wore smaller heels," Gerald offered in a sarcastic tone.
"Thanks for the advice, Geraldo," Helga replied between clenched teeth.
"We need to get you home, or to a doctor. We need to rest, elevate and ice your ankle. It could be severely sprained. There's a slight possibility that it could be a minor fracture, but it seems unlikely if you were able to at least attempt to stand on it. Come on," Phoebe slipped her head under Helga's shoulders.
Gerald began to protest, "Phoebe, you can't carry her all the way back to her house, it's like fifteen blocks."
"I'll do it."
The crowd had disappeared. Helga hadn't even realized he was there. Arnold stepped forwards, smiling. "I was thinking about leaving anyways."
Heat immediately rushed to Helga's cheeks as she felt Phoebe retract her head. Phoebe squeezed her friend's shoulder reassuringly, "Will you be okay, Helga?"
Helga laughed, "I'll be fine. I've been hurt worse. It's just a little sprain. Besides, I want to get home and yell at Olga for making me wear her shoes."
"I'll be over first thing tomorrow to check on you. I know Olga will want to take you to a doctor," Phoebe hugged Helga before letting Arnold wrap her hand around his waist. Helga found it hard to steady her breathing. Arnold's body was pressed tightly against her's, his arm draped around her bare shoulders.
The awkward silence settled in once they stepped out of the hot, crowded gym and into the almost-midnight air. The bitter wind was a sign that winter was coming soon.
"I'll be okay, Arnold, really. You don't have to walk me home like a dying soldier. I'll be able to hop."
"A few problems with that," Arnold laughed. "One: you're a young woman who would be walking alone on a city street and it's almost midnight. Two: you're injured. Three: you're wearing really high heels."
"Right," Helga stopped. She bent down, leaning into the side of Arnold's leg for support, and undid her heels. Her barefoot hit the cool sidewalk and she felt slightly better. She held Olga's heels in left hand, having them rest against Arnold's side.
"I'm not going to let you walk barefoot, either."
"Don't be such a drama queen. I'll be fine."
The two continued on in silence, turning off the school's two blocks and to the first crosswalk. Arnold pressed the button, only to hear Helga laugh.
"It's midnight, Football Head. There are no cars here. Come on," she pulled on his tie, once again bringing his body close to hers. Her heart jumped as he glanced out of the corner of his emerald eyes to smile.
"I still don't think you should cross the street without shoes on. What if you step on something?"
"I'll take my chances," Helga shot back before stepping out of their embrace. She began to slowly make her way to the edge of the sidewalk, glancing in both directions for cars.
Her hesitation to step down was the perfect moment for Arnold. He literally swept her off her feet, carrying her bridal style. As she stepped down, left foot in the air, he wrapped his arms under her legs, letting them hang over his arms. His other hand rested on the small of her back, traveling upwards as she collapsed in his embrace. He was shocked to discover she was lighter than he thought. He knew Helga wasn't large, but she wasn't exactly rail thin either.
"What the-?" she cried.
"Relax. This is easier, anyway."
"Really? You're not going to get tired carrying me?" She felt Arnold's muscles flex as he tightened his arms around her.
"Maybe, but it doesn't matter. This is better for your ankle, no pressure at all."
"I'll be fine. . ."
"Just once, would you please stop fighting me and let me help you?"
Helga looked up from staring at the streets to stare at Arnold. Not only was his slightly annoyed tone a surprise, but the fact that his eyes were pleading for a compromise made her give in.
"Just this once."
His smile quickly returned, "Thank you."
Arnold continued to carry Helga in silence. They had made it six more blocks, leaving seven more to go.
Helga couldn't take the silence. "So, why did want to leave the dance?"
"Just wasn't having that much fun, I guess."
"Oh, I saw you dancing with Ruth and her friends."
Arnold blushed. "It was embarrassing. They all just came out of nowhere like a swarm, all grinding on me. It was awkward."
Helga laughed. "It sure looked like you were having fun, though."
"For a second or two."
"All your boyhood fantasies coming true, right?"
Arnold laughed, recalling his extreme crush on Ruth when he was in fourth grade. She was in sixth grade, just two years older than him. Now she was a junior, he was a freshman.
"Not really. I got over her on Valentines's Day in fourth grade. It was just a surprise to see her."
Helga simply nodded, unsure how to respond.
"Did you have fun at the dance, you know, until this happened?"
"Yeah," she lied. "It was nice." All Helga had wanted was a slow dance with Arnold, which she'd never get. Helga had come to realize over the years that he'd only see her as a friend, his old unibrowed bully.
"I like you dress, though. Matches your death trap heels."
Helga spoke before should could stop herself, "You really like pink."
"What?"
"Nothing," Helga turned her face away, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. "Never mind."
"Aw, come on. Tell me." Helga remained silent. "I'll drop you," Arnold teased, slowly releasing his super tight grip. Helga quickly wrapped her arms tighter around his torso, swinging the heels into his back. "Ow," he laughed.
"Sorry," Helga mumbled.
"So, why do you think I like pink?"
Helga turned her head again, they were just four blocks away from her house, turning onto the second to last street they'd have to walk down. Never in her life had she wanted to be home as badly as she did now.
"I know you like pink because you told me that when we first met."
"I did?" Arnold didn't remember the first time they met. He barely remembered his life before fourth grade.
Helga shifted her eyes away as she talked, trying to keep her voice steady, "Yeah. It was the first day of pre-school. It had been raining and I walked all the way to school by myself. But then you showed up and held an umbrella above my head and said, 'I like your bow 'cause it's pink like your pants.'"
Arnold went quiet for a moment, trying to recall the day. He knew Helga would never lie about something like that. Arnold could tell that that day meant a lot to her if she had remembered it. He wasn't sure why she cared so much.
Then a memory smacked him in the face.
How could he have forgotten it? It was their last kiss - on top of the Future Tech Industries, Inc. building - after Helga had confessed her undying love for him. He tried to recall what she'd said . Was there a mention of being three years old or was he imagining it?
"That sounds like something I would say," Arnold tried to break the silence he created.
The quiet didn't last long because a sudden crash of thunder made Helga jump. Rain followed immediately, pouring hard onto the two teens.
Helga laughed as the cold rain drenched her skin. Arnold picked up his pace more as he turned the corner. They were two blocks from Helga's house.
In a matter of minutes he had made it to Helga's doorstep. He slowly set her down, making sure she wasn't leaning on her right side at all.
"Thanks," she whispered as she gathered up her hair all onto her left side and wrung it out like a towel. A chill traveled down Arnold's spine, he hadn't realized it was actually cold. "Do you want to come in?"
"Thank you, but no. I should probably get home. My grandparents are probably worried."
Helga smiled, trying to hide her disappointment. "Okay." She opened her front door and peeked inside, the lights were all out, meaning everyone was asleep.
"Can you make it upstairs?"
Helga's shoulders slumped forwards when she realized she couldn't. "Not unless I want to break my other ankle."
"Here," Arnold stepped inside and picked her up again. He was still surprised at how light she was. He quietly made his way up the stairs with Helga in his arms.
He gently lowered her onto her bed. She dropped her heels to the floor and smiled at Arnold.
"Do you think you could grab me that shirt off the floor?"
Arnold bent down and picked up the large black t-shirt and handed it to her. Helga quickly slipped it over her head, pulling the covers up to her stomach as she struggled to unzip her dress. Helga released a frustrated sigh, "Do you mind?" Arnold nodded, stepping over the heels and gently letting his hand follow the curve of the zipper as it fell down her spine. "Thanks," she replied before slipping out of the dress.
"We should elevate your ankle." Helga nodded, displeased with the idea. She slowly slipped her leg out from under the covers.
Helga groaned as Arnold rested her injured ankle on two pillows. "I'm never going to be able to fall asleep."
"Do you want me to get you anything?"
Helga smiled, "No, that's okay. You should probably get home."
Arnold nodded, turning to stare at the storm outside the window. "Right, that looks possible."
"You can call your grandparents and tell them that you're safe. I'm sure the storm will let up soon."
After the call was made, Arnold sat on the floor across from Helga, back against her door. His eyes set on Helga, staring at her as she continued to play with her wet hair.
"Why are you watching me?"
Arnold laughed, "I was?"
"Yeah, Football Head. It's freaking me out."
"Sorry."
"You should be," she shot back.
Arnold held up his hands in defeat. "I'm too tired to fight."
"Wimp. I'm the injured one over here." The two laughed.
Arnold slowly rose to his feet and walked over to the bed, "You know, I just realized I take care of you often." He sat on the edge close to her, but still gave her a few inches of space.
"That's not true."
"Yes it is. Remember when I hit you in the head with the baseball and you got amnesia? I took care of you for days until you fell again and got your memory back. And when I blinded you on April Fool's Day. . .well, you were faking for almost all of it."
"Well, you're an idiot for believing me."
"I guess you're just a great actress."
"Of course I am. Don't you remember Romeo and Juliet?"
Arnold laughed to prevent an awkward silence from settling in. He could recall their kissing scene. He began to think of all the other times they'd kissed: on the roof of FTi, their play, and. . .
"Oh, we can't forget Babe Watch. Our two minute acting bit on TV." Arnold mentally slapped himself. He almost lost the topic of conversation: acting not kissing.
Helga leaned forwards in her bed, closing the small gap between them. "It takes a lot of discipline to play a drowning boy, right?"
"Of course," Arnold laughed.
Thunder continued to roar above them, lightning flashing the entire world purple for a brief second.
Arnold brought his leg to the floor, almost stepped on Helga's heels. "Oh, sorry," he bent down and picked them up.
"I don't care. They're Olga's. She said they were lucky."
Arnold examined the heel, "Did she tell you why?"
"I think she's crazy. I said she called them lucky because she didn't get hurt."
Arnold laughed. "You got hurt pretty bad, huh?"
"Oh, thanks for laughing at my pain."
"Hey! You've done it thousands of times to me," Arnold suddenly realized he was extremely close to Helga. She smiled at him, her blue eyes lighting up.
"So. . ."
A small piece of dry hair fell into Helga's face. Arnold reacted quickly, leaning into her and pushing it back. He could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. The heel of her shoe dug into his lap, but he didn't care. He liked seeing Helga smile. What came over him, he'll never know, but he continued to lean forwards, eyes shutting slowly.
Helga thought she had died and gone to Heaven, or that she was dreaming. This wasn't really happening. Was Arnold really kissing her this time?
Arnold slowly pulled back, his emotions going crazy: he was shocked, confused and happy. Helga gently moved their boundary, the pair of pink heels Arnold had dropped between them, and pulled him back to her.
Those are some seriously awesome shoes, Helga thought as Arnold continued to kiss her.