A Brief Preface
This is the first chapter in my latest story, Saturday Night. Same deal as last time, one chapter a week with Tuesday being the update day this time around. As a small forward to the story, this will be the first in a series of three stories taking place in the same timeline. They won't be sequels as such, but rather each new story focusing on a different time in the gang's junior year at Hillwood High School. Each new story will assume that the events in the one previous will have already happened. I don't have a time table on these, so no idea when they will all be complete. As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated and really kept me going on this one. Enjoy! -AG
Chapter 1: Jungle Juice
Helga G. Pataki was not the high school party type. In fact she did everything in her power to avoid them. Gossip, pumping top 40, sweaty bodies mashed in one room, cheap grain Smirnoff mixed with Gatorade and sprite; it was not her idea of well spent evening. She looked out the window of her old beat up Toyota Corolla and laughed at the irony of the situation-the only one in the junior class that wasn't invited to the party was currently en route to Sid's apartment at a quarter to one in the morning.
Her phone vibrated again on the passenger seat, the screen illuminating the faded canvas seat. She picked it up and glanced down; another text from Phoebe. She frowned as she tried to make out the jumbled T9 translation.
"Jesus Christ. Put down the damn bottle" She said tossing the phone back in the seat.
She pulled down 32nd avenue and up to the curb in front of Sid's apartment. She cut the engine and walked up to the front door and stepped inside, instantly smelling cigarettes and weed wafting out into the hallways. She easily found her way to Sid's apartment; the door was open and blue light was spilling out into the hallway. A Katy Perry song blared out on distorted bass, flooding her ears as she opened the door. Helga stepped fully into the small apartment, letting the flimsy wooden door shut behind her.
At first she couldn't see faces through the smoke and soft blue light. They all blended in together, slurring with one another into one drunken mass. She tried to pick out faces, but everyone looked the same under the dim atmosphere.
"Helga! You came!" a shrill voice said.
Helga snapped her head up, seeing a very red faced Phoebe running for her.
"Whoa there Pheo…" Helga started as Phoebe crashed into her.
The smell of vodka and cigarettes slammed into her. Phoebe's face was red and Helga had to steady her from falling after the initial impact.
"Jesus, how much have…"
"You came!" Phoebe said, even louder.
"Yes, we've established that. Now go get your lover so we can get the hell out of here" Helga said, frustrated.
Phoebe twisted her face up in strained confusion. "Who?"
Helga rolled her eyes and then turned to Phoebe. She grabbed her shoulder.
"Gerald. Go get him. That's why I'm here isn't it? To give your drunken ass a ride home?"
"Okay okay, let me go get him. Thanks Helga, you're the best!. I really did think we were good to drive you know? But then I said, Phoebe! Call Helga. So I did. I called…you!" Phoebe said smiling widely.
"Yeah yeah, all is fair in love and Smirnoff. Now please go get Gerald" Helga said, grimacing as someone from the beer pong table bumped into her.
Phoebe pranced off back into the ocean of people, leaving Helga in the living room. She turned and backed up against the wall to get a look at the room. For an apartment building, Sid and his dad had quite the house. The living room she was standing in was decently sized, and packed with about twenty-five people. Two hallways broke off and led further into the apartment; one into a generously spacious kitchen and the other into what she assumed to be the bedrooms. A small glass door led out to a concrete deck overlooking the street below. Ten teens crammed themselves on the deck, and were hollering at the cars as they passed by. Loud yelping and hollering erupted from a group of football players standing by a make shift beer pong table. A closet door had been turned on its side and staked on top of some fold out chairs; one of the teams just sunk the last shot.
"Drink up fucker!" The shouting grew even louder as the losers started to drain the remaining cups.
Yup that's enough of that Helga thought to herself. She pushed off the wall and made her way through the crowd in search of Phoebe. The smell of sweat and stale beer slammed up against her as she snaked slowly through the crowd. The glass door swung open and the kids from the balcony swept into the living room. Helga was pushed up against the wall by the residual surge of shifting people. She was pinned against the sticky drywall for a moment by an overweight sophomore holding a Smirnoff Ice, but managed to break free from his impending mass. She saw her opening and dashed for the kitchen.
Out of the tumult of drunken party goers, she leaned up against the faded white refrigerator.
"Jesus Christ. I just remembered why I hate these things" She murmured to herself.
There were a few people in the kitchen, milling about by a large bowl of jungle juice in the sink. The music was muffled by the wall quite a bit, so Helga could actually hear herself think. She looked out the bar top divide on the far side of the kitchen, out into what now looked like a sea of people. Someone had changed the playlist to bass heavy dubstep, and the entire crowd surged with the syncopated beat.
Yeah I'm going to find Phoebe real easy in all this shit. This, Helga, this is why we don't answer our phone on Saturdays. She took a breath and started to leave the kitchen.
"Helga! What are you doing here?" a voice shouted loudly from behind her.
She turned around and saw Arnold walking up to her. He stumbled forward on a wet patch by the sink and fell up against the side of the refrigerator. Helga lunged forward and helped prop him back on his feat.
"Woah, you okay? You, Football head, are the last person I expected to run into here," Helga said smiling.
She took a step back and looked at him. He was dressed in chocolate corduroys and a black and white plaid shirt over a black tee. His face was flushed and he had a goofy smile on his face.
"Yeah, well. What can I say? Gerald wanted to come along, or I guess Phoebe did, and here I am," Arnold said, brushing a stray piece of hair back behind his ear. "You know..I think someone may have spunk the pinch, or…something" He said, his face twisting into a confused glare.
Helga looked back at him and started laughing.
"I cannot take you seriously like this. How much have you had?"
He leaned dramatically up against the fridge. "Oh like you ever do?"
"I take you seriously. Right now you're just pretty drunk. You of all people" Helga said smiling.
"Oh what's that supposed to mean?" Arnold said.
"Come on. Mr. Goody Two-Shoes himself, out late on a Saturday getting drunk? This is like, against everything you've ever stood for" Helga said.
Her face was twisting between surprise and amusement. She still didn't know how to react to Arnold like this. He swayed a bit and brushed his hand against the side of his face.
"I'm not all that good or nice or whatever. But I would ask you the same question!" He said, pointing an accusing finger at Helga.
She burst out laughing. "What?"
"I mean, you're here too? You never go to these things, like me," He said.
"This is true Football Head. Only reason I'm here now is to drive Phoebe's drunk ass home. But who knows where she went" Helga said, frowning as she looked out at the crowd.
Arnold snorted and his face turned sour. "Yeah, probably in a back room with Gerald or dancing or not watching Evil Twin 4"
"What? Why would Phoebe go to Evil Twin 4? She hates that stuff" Helga said.
Arnold held up his hand. "Exactly!"
He shook his head and held up his hand. "No no, sorry. She's your friend. It's all cool"
Helga twisted her head slightly, trying to figure out what exactly Arnold was trying to tell her.
"Well, since you're stuck here like me, why don't you stay awhile?" Arnold said.
"Yeah, I guess I don't have much of a choice. What's in that punch anyway?" Helga said.
"Helga!" A voice erupted from the mouth of the kitchen.
She turned around and bumped into Phoebe once again. Gerald was right behind her this time; both of them looked shocked and worried.
"What's wrong?" Helga said, looking at both of them.
The music blaring in the room was abruptly stopped and a bright light shone right in her face. "Hillwood Police Department. Clear it out!"
Chapter 2: 5/31/11