It all started with box of chocolates. Or rather, a birthday. It was the end of March, and Helga's birthday was approaching. Arnold knew so especially because she had mentioned it. A dozen times.
It was the tail-end of fifth grade. Helga and Arnold were openly friends although in the background there was something a little deeper. Their attraction was mutual, but just as stubborn as Helga was to hide her crush on Arnold from the world, he was with his, so they both tried to pull wool over the eyes of the world together. But at times like these the link they had forged was showing.
"Arnold," Helga said for the millionth time. She kicked the back of his chair. "Don't forget tomorrow is my birthday! So you had better get me something good! Football-Head," she said folding her hands together. Arnold cast an annoyed glare behind him.
"I will, okay? Sheesh!" said Arnold before returning to his paperwork and pressing down on the lead of his pencil so firmly that he nearly broke it. Helga was extremely demanding, especially lately. And she had reminded him to never again give her a trick box pretending it was a birthday present- like a million times.
Phoebe Heyerdahl had booked a pizza booth at the arcade for the occasion. They were all to meet there tomorrow after school- Arnold, Phoebe, Gerald, Harold, Stinky, Sid, and all the other kids because Phoebe thought this would be good for Helga. Her very first, real birthday party. It turned out that Helga had never had a glamorous party with guests outside her family before, so Phoebe had decided to throw a bonanza for Helga's eleventh birthday. Truth be told, Arnold was looking forward to the event. He just wished Helga would stop reminding him of it. But the next person do so was Gerald.
"One more day till the big party!" said Gerald rubbing his hands together. "All the pizza and breadsticks I can eat! A whole gallon of Yahoo soda! And best of all, three straight hours of the arcade!" said Gerald who was without a doubt its most high-scoring player. For the birthday party, Phoebe would be handing out an allotted number of quarters.
"I know!" said Arnold. With joy, he kicked an empty soda can down the sidewalk when he spied it. Then he reshuffled his schoolbooks so they fit comfortably under one arm.
"I'm sort of hoping to get a few pieces of ham and pineapple!" said Arnold. "That's my favorite one!"
"Ew, man!" said Gerald sticking out his tongue and making faces. "That's nasty!" But at that moment they passed by the Corner Store and Arnold stopped. With one finger lifted up to his face in thought, he looked within.
"What's wrong?" said Gerald stopping, too, behind him. Arnold continued to stare, clasping his books to one side.
"Maybe I should pick something out for Helga. You know, for her birthday party."
"Ah, man!" said Gerald throwing his hands up over his head. "You mean you haven't got her a present yet?! You, man, are goin' to have problems if you don't figure out the whole 'present thing'. Ladies LOVE the gifts," Gerald emphasized. "Take Phoebe for example! I got her this little necklace thing… cost me like fifty cents from a vending machine! But I wrapped it up all nice and kept hinting I got her a piece of jewelry for weeks! So she LOVED it when she got the thing! It didn't matter it was cheap. It was the anticipation!" said Gerald with a sly wink. But Arnold frowned. That didn't help him decide what to give to Helga.
"I dunno," Arnold voiced out loud. "I'm not sure what to give her. What do you think she would like?" Gerald rolled his eyes up with frustration.
"I dunno, man!" said Gerald shoving Arnold into the Corner Store with disgust. "Now go in there and buy her a box of chocolates or something!" Gerald kept pushing Arnold all the way into the store into one of the shopping aisles. "Hi Mom!" he cast back over his shoulder as his mother beeped something at the cash register.
"Hi, Gerald!" Mrs. Johanssen cast back as the two boys passed by. Gerald stopped pushing Arnold when they got the store's small, but nice candy selection. Arnold stood upright and stared at the filled wire racks. He pulled down the largest box.
"Twenty bucks!" he said with fright. Gerald pulled the large heart-shaped box out of his hand and replaced it with a smaller square one.
"Try this one!" said Gerald. "Five dollars! Now I know that sounds like a lot for paper and a couple of morsels in between, but trust me! Chocolate is a classic! You can't go wrong!"
"Well. If you're really sure, Gerald!" Arnold said before carrying the small candy box over to the checkout. He stood on his tiptoes to watch in eager anticipation as Mrs. Johansen rung it and wrapped it in a plastic bag.
"Here you go!" she said wearing as warm, knowing, motherly smile. She waved a friendly goodbye to Arnold as he and Gerald left the store.
"See? That wasn't so bad!" lectured Gerald with both hands firm at his hips. "Now I've got to go home! Don't forget to bring your present with you to school tomorrow!" he reminded. Arnold half-listened to his friend's advice.
"Sure thing, Gerald," Arnold replied. He wandered back home dreaming of the pizza party to come.
When Arnold's alarm clock rung the next day he was barely aware. He had been off dreaming again, this time of a trampoline-sized pizza with cheese so thick he had slog through it until he sat down and ate his way to the other side. But the alarm clock's continued 'bring, bring' annoyed Arnold just enough so that he moved to sit up. Arnold pushed his hands out to lift him from his knees. His blankets fell to the floor and Arnold noticed the sunlight streaming into his room. Then he looked at the clock.
"Oh, no!" said Arnold leaping from his bed. "I'd better hurry!" It would not do to be late.
Arnold hopped on one leg trying to get his pants on. Then in a flash, he rushed over to snatch up his schoolbooks. Arnold had placed the box of candy on top of his desk next to his schoolbooks so he would not forget it, yet in the blur of the morning Arnold did forget the box of chocolates as he slammed his door. It sat in his room as the sunlight and shadows cast by his roof shifted over it.
Down in the streets of Hillwood, Arnold dashed up to the bus stop just in time to make his bus before it drove away. Then he sat down next to Gerald.
"Where were you, man?" asked Gerald. Arnold shrugged.
"I must be more tired than I thought! I guess I'm moving pretty slow this morning," explained Arnold.
"You're WAY too young to be getting like your Grandpa," remarked Gerald as the bus began to move. "So where's the present?"
"Oh no!" said Arnold blanching. "I forgot it!" Arnold looked out the bus window towards his house, but he knew there was no chance that the bus would turn around for him.
"Gerald, what do I do?" asked Arnold. He grasped hold of Gerald's shirt front. "Helga's gonna kill me! I know! How about you give me your birthday present for Helga and I'll pretend it's from me!" Gerald shook his head.
"Don't look at me, man!" said Gerald. "I didn't get a present. Helga and me aren't exactly friends. The spades are, she doesn't exactly like me and I don't exactly like her. I wouldn't want her to get all cozy on me, now! That's your territory." Arnold sagged against the bus seat with a deep sigh.
"Argh!" Arnold complained. But Gerald let him be.
Arnold crept into the classroom. Helga was perched in her usual seat, the one just behind his, in the rightmost row of desks. Arnold sunk down into his desk and tried to hide behind his math book as if reading it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Helga was not about to let the boy get off without her usual good morning.
"Hey Arnold!" said Helga nearly shouting to get his attention. "Earth to Football-Head! Did you forget what day it is?" Helga fluttered her lashes towards him. Off to the side, Gerald tsked. He could tell where this was going.
"Helga, babe. I got you a little somethin'" said Gerald pulling a cheap greeting card out of his pocket. It had a smiling sun and birthday candles on the cover. Helga examined it with barely an expression.
"Thank you, Geraldo," said Helga leaning forwards toward Arnold and fluttering her lashes again. "So what did you bring me?" Arnold broke out into a nervous chuckle.
"Bring you? Well, that is to say… I know it's your birthday Helga! Um, well, about your present... it's like this. I forgot it," Arnold admitted, cringing at his desk. He sunk his head as low as it could go as Helga swallowed in a fresh lungful of air to yell at him with.
"You FORGOT IT?" Helga complained so vocally that everyone in every inch of their classroom heard it. "I only told you like a hundred million times yesterday! Are you senile or somethin'? Or does my birthday not matter to you or something?" Arnold narrowed his eyes.
"You don't have to make such a big deal out of it! Besides, I didn't give you a birthday present last year. It never bothered you before!" Helga sucked in another deep breath. Only this time, she did not exhale it.
"Arnold, you idiot!" the girl said, twisting her head so that her face was turned away from Arnold. With a shove, Helga pressed her chair back away from her school desk. When the noisy squeak of metal chair legs grated across the laminated floor stopped, Helga whipped herself to her feet, then bolted out the classroom door. It all happened so fast Arnold had little time to even blink. There especially was little time for him to realize what was happening.
"Oh, man!" said Gerald, his head supported by his hands as he draped in leisure across his desk. "You've done it now! You'll be lucky if she even speaks to you again!" But Arnold's eyes were still crossed. He was in a poor mood for listening.
"Hey! She doesn't have to act like it's the end of the world or something! So what if I forgot? It's only one gift!" Gerald shook his head sadly.
"Poor, poor boy. You're deluded if you think it's only 'one gift'. It's about trust. Value. And in a girl's world, this is serious infraction. Why, you'll be lucky if you get another date until high school!" said Gerald, rolling his eyes up to imagine a dateless Arnold in his head. Arnold went back to his book.
"It's not like we're boyfriend and girlfriend or anything."
"Uh-huh. Sure you're not!" said Gerald, not believing. "Anything you say, Arnold. But your FRIEND there," said Gerald stressing the word, "is upset that you don't care about her. Which is unusual for you, Pappa Teresa." Arnold lay down his book.
"It really was an accident, Gerald," said Arnold. "Why can't I be forgiven for that?"
"Maybe you can be," said Gerald. "If you apologize like a man!" Arnold absorbed his friend's advice.
"Right," the boy said at last as the words sunk in.
But Helga did not return to class. She did not show up to the arcade either, and Phoebe Heyerdahl gave Arnold an angry glare as she looked at her watch.
"What? What did I do?" he questioned.
"Argh. So dense!" Phoebe said shaking her head at him before pacing forward to the table where Stinky, Sid, and Harold were sipping the last gulps of soda. The pizza was long gone.
"Well, everybody," Phoebe said in her small, softest voice. "I guess that means the party is over."
"Gawsh," said Stinky. "Helga sure missed a dang good party!"
"I'll give Helga her presents, later!" Phoebe promised gathering the pile of gifts together. She walked past Arnold with the bundle with a loud sniff. Arnold tensed.
"Now everyone is angry at me!" Arnold complained.
"Arnold. What did you expect?" asked Gerald. "It's the grapevine. Now all the girls know what you did!"
"Great," said Arnold miserably.
Arnold walked back to the boarding house. He opened the front door and passed by the living room. But when he did his miserable eyes rounded in surprise. Then he turned round to peek into the living room. There on the couch was Dino Spumoni, laughing and telling jokes to his grandparents. Dino looked Arnold's way as the boy wandered into the room.
"Arnold!" said Dino strolling across the room and shaking Arnold's hand with his. "Good to see you, old pal!"
"Dino Spumoni?!" Arnold sputtered. "What are you doing here?" Dino rolled back and forth on his leather loafer heels, his hands in his pockets as he stared down at the boy.
"Well, seeing as you're my one true pal and all, I figured I'd better drop by and see how you 'all were doing. Things treating you well?"
"Well," said Arnold somberly. "Not really. There's something bugging me today."
"Well, what is it!" Dino demanded. "Spill!"
"Well," said Arnold suddenly feeling almost ashamed of himself. "There's this girl at school... Helga. And I kind of forgot to give her a birthday present. Now I don't know if she even wants to speak to me anymore." Arnold's hair drooped with his frown.
"And you care for this girl?"
"Well… yeah," Arnold admitted softly. Dino Spumoni rolled his eyes, his hands firmly planted on either side of his body.
"It starts," said Dino out loud to himself more than anyone. Then he jabbed a finger towards Arnold.
"Now, look here, Arnold!" said Dino. "You can take it from me that that's a precident you don't want to repeat! Take it from me!" Dino plastered a hand across his heart. "I've been divorced five times and it's always the same!" the man said waving a hand around in exasperation. "I do some little thing, she annoys me, and I'm too proud to back down about it! So we fight and shout and I take a road trip and by the time I get back, the divorce papers are filed, kapeesh? Relationships aren't easy! You've got to do right by them or else you'll end up alone!"
"Dino, I know right from wrong!" Arnold protested.
"Sure, that's what everyone thinks," said Dino jabbing a finger towards the boy, "until they fall in love!" Arnold froze, his eyes wide at Dino's remark.
"I should apologize?" Arnold fumbled awkwardly.
"You bet you should!" said Dino, "if you care about this girl. And you've got to let her know she matters each and every day! Women are difficult. A man's got to earn them."
"Well, thanks for the advice, Dino," said Arnold. "That helps. I guess."
"You're welcome, kid. I hope it works out for you'all. Now can I get a bite to eat in this house?"
"Of course!" said Arnold. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"
"That depends if your Grandma here is planning anything with socks," Dino wisely said.
"Cabbages stuffed with meatloaf and cotton!" Grandma Pookie said with delight. Dino shook Arnold's hand.
"I think I'll pass. See ya, around kid! I'll send ya tickets to one of my shows! Take care of yourself!"
"You too, Dino!" Arnold said before he and Dino ended their firm handshake. He waved goodbye to his favorite singer as he headed out the door and away from Grandma's socks. Pookie looked down at her grandson.
"Do you want to help me in the kitchen, Arnold?" she asked.
"No thanks, Grandma!" said Arnold with a sudden enthusiasm. "There's something I have to do first! See you later!" Arnold bolted out the door.
Across the neighborhood, Miriam Pataki opened the front door as it was knocked on. She opened the door to find Arnold.
"Is Helga here?" Arnold asked. But Miriam rolled her eyes and then covered her mouth with a hand as she yawned. "No, she's not back yet," said Miriam. "I"m sure Helga is out playing somewhere. Did you need something?"
"Ah, no," said Arnold. "I guess just tell her I stopped by!" the boy said before Miriam shut the door in his face. He turned and paced down the steps.
Arnold then walked throughout the neighborhood. He didn't see Helga anywhere so he began to call. "Helga!" he said beside the schoolyard.
"Helga!" Arnold shouted at vacant Gerald's field.
"Helga!" Arnold called at last on the bridge where Helga loved to throw rocks and where she moped when she was sad. But the girl was nowhere to be found. The silence pressed in on Arnold. Usually, when he said her name, there was a loud echo back. There was always a "Hey Arnold!" to greet him wherever he went. But today there was nothing but the sound of cars driving by on the street. "Helga?" Arnold mumbled uncertainly under his breath wondering where she had went. His frown deepened.
At a loss of what to do, Arnold shuffled along until he came to the park. He wandered into it. There, in the very deepest corners by the tree he had once got stuck in, he heard a sniffling. There, with her back to the tree, Helga was crying. Arnold felt a fresh wash of guilt.
"Helga!" he said when he had neared her. Helga looked up with a jolt. Her red, crying eyes turned angry.
"What do you want?" she spat.
"Helga," Arnold said slowly. "I'm…." But Hega interrupted him.
"Go away!" Helga spat. She backed up against the tree then stood.
"Helga, I!" pleaded Arnold. But Helga had drawn herself up to her full height.
"Go away!" the girl repeated herself, balling up her fists. "I don't wanna talk to you!" she hollered at full volume. Arnold grew desperate.
"Helga, please!" he fumbled. "You're right! I'm...well, dense! I never knew how much I hurt you. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry Helga! Please forgive me! I really meant to give you a birthday present! It's not like I didn't want to! I bought one! I just forgot it, and if you like, I can go get it right now and give it to you. Please, Helga, I'm sorry!" As Arnold pleaded, Helga's fisted hands drooped. Her shoulders lowered. Then she lifted up a hand to wipe away the tears. After rubbing them away, Helga spoke, although there was a tremble.
"That's okay, Football-Head. I'll forgive you. Now where's the present?"
"Well," said Arnold swiftly. "It's back at my house. We can go get it together!"
"Um. Okay," Helga spoke softly, uncertainly. But she followed along as Arnold trotted back to this house. He scrambled up his staircase into his room, then down again with the small, square chocolate box. Panting, he held it up for Helga.
"See?" Arnold said. "For you!" Gingerly, Helga took the box from his fingertips. She opened it.
"Wow, chocolates!" Helga said breaking out into a soft smile. "Caramel, too! I love these things!" Arnold grinned broader.
"If you like it that much, let's go buy you another! You know, to make up for my being late and all!"
"Well. Okay!" said Helga linking her hand in his as he tugged her along towards the nearest candy shop.
Arnold and Helga were best friends again. But the month following would be full of more strains than Helga's birthday. Mr. Simmons came to the board at the first class of the month with an important announcement.
"Class!" he said with his hands clapped together. "It has come to my attention for this month, art period will be replaced with a very important elective. As part of the Arts for Hillwood Program, we will be having music class instead of art class! Isn't that exciting?" Arnold's face became a mixture of hope and horror.
"Who's the teacher?"
"Miss Obalaski!" said Mr. Simmons. Arnold jolted in horror. "Oh, no!" said he. She was the one who had made him practice his scales in the third grade! All the while, Arnold had been stuck in between Harold with his trumpet and Helga with her tuba. Arnold had hated every minute of it! And since he had left that class, he had sworn to never again touch a recorder. He cringed.
But Arnold was not the only one who wasn't pleased. Helga secretly hated music class just as much as Arnold did. To her displeasure, Mrs. Obalaski recognized her as soon as she walked in the door.
"Helga!" said the professor giving her a fond, one-armed hug. "My favorite, little tuba soloist! I hope you're ready to continue to improve!"
"Well, gee, that's too bad, Mrs. Obalaski!" said Helga with fake remorse, "I gave away my tuba last year!" It was true. When Helga had thought she was dying of monkeynucleosis, she had given her tuba to Rhonda, and she was fully prepared to pretend she didn't know where it went.
"Oh, that's too bad!" said their teacher. "But don't worry! We have plenty of instruments for rent!" She fished out a brass tuba and Helga grit her teeth in horror. So did Arnold. He grimaced all throughout band practice.
"I think Helga must be punishing me for forgetting her birthday present," Arnold told Gerald at lunch. The melancholy boy flicked one of his green peas off his plate and it rolled almost to the edge of the table.
"Nah, it isn't like that!" disagreed Gerald. "Cheer up Arnold! It's only one month!"
"What if Helga takes up playing the tuba again?" Arnold fretted. It was so loud and obnoxious even in his memory that he covered his ears in reflex.
"Wear earplugs?" Gerald suggested mildly as Helga and Phoebe walked by with their trays.
"I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!" Helga mumbled before perching on one of the lunchroom chairs. She opened her milk carton and swigged down half of it. After wiping the mustache from her mouth, she slammed the milk carton down hard so that little splatters came out of it. Then she pointed her thumb in the other direction.
"Phoebe! Get me another milk!" But Phoebe gently plucked the milk carton from her own tray and set it on Helga's tray. Then she folded her hands.
"Helga," she said by way of council. Behind her glasses, Phoebe's eyes were full of concern. "I know this bothers you. If you hate the tuba so much, why don't you ask to switch to another instrument?"
"Hm," Helga thought. She gave a soft sigh. "Well," she said looking down awkwardly. "I've kind of always wanted to play the guitar. Not always but… recently," said Helga thinking fondly of her daydream in which she stood outside Arnold's boarding house and played a serenade for him. In her fantasy, she was wearing a red spanish hat with red poms on it, with red roses strewn all around. As Arnold admired her song, she pledge her love to him.
"AHHH!" Helga said with a soft sigh. She opened her second carton of milk. "Maybe I'll do that! I'll convince the old she-goat somehow!" said Helga, because as much as the music instructor admired Helga, the feeling wasn't mutual. Helga hated being pushed around. But when Helga came to music class next, she carried with her a guitar she had bought herself. It had cost a pretty penny of her saved allowance, but it was worth it.
"Hello!" said Helga blinking her eyes in innocence at her teacher's disappointment. But there was no convincing Helga otherwise. Mrs. Obalaski dug out some new music sheets.
"Are you sure about this, Helga? It's a big change."
"I'm sure!" Helga repeated. But it was difficult. The strings didn't have neat little buttons to follow like the tuba did. She struggled to find even the basic notes. Mrs. Obalaski frowned.
"Why don't you take these sheets home and practice tonight?" she offered. Helga accepted the fistful of pages and stared down at them. Lost and miserable, she trotted home. Then her eyes rounded in surprise. Olga was back early for few days visit.
"Hello, baby sister!" said Olga. "Just stopping by for a few days before finals! What is that you've got in your hand, you big silly?" Olga plucked the guitar case out of Helga's hand, then opened it. She gave a few strums to the small guitar within.
"Oh great," Helga thought rolling her eyes. "She's a virtuoso guitarist, too!"
"Oh my gosh, baby sister!" said Olga tearing up. "You've fallen under the spell of the music of strings at last! I can't believe it! Well, this just means we will have to practice together until supper! Come on! We'll have you sounding like a master in no time!" Olga pulled Helga by the hand away to the living room, to hold her captive until dinner time. But at the end of the practice, Helga set the guitar down.
"I don't know, Olga," said Helga sadly. "Maybe I should go back to the tuba. I mean, come on! I stink! Look at me!" said Helga gesturing wildly as she poured out her soul. "You're a virtuoso and me? I can't even play the scales right! I stink! I should quit! Why bother when you and everybody else can play much better than me?!" Helga folded her arms and plopped herself down on a chair, scowling.
"Oh, come on now, Helga!" said Olga. "It isn't that bad! Everyone has a tough time as a beginner! And besides, you big silly, there's only songs you can play! It's not a question of who can play better! Maybe sometime," said Olga folding her arms across her chest as she rolled her eyes up in delight, "there is an extra-special feeling in an extra-special moment just for you that you want to get out. And no one can play that moment better than you, because you're the only one who really knows how it feels!"
"Really?" said Helga thinking of her daydream with Arnold once again. "Do you really think I could get good enough... to play for someone? Should I? I mean, no matter how hard I try it's always going to be second best!" Helga complained with a shrug, doubting herself. But Olga lay a hand on her shoulder and smiled.
"You don't know until you try!"
By the end of the month, when Mrs. Obalaski left, Helga had improved a bit. Some guidance from Olga had helped, and a lot of practice. There was only one Wednesday left for Mr. Simmon's Cocohut, and ready or not, Helga had signed up.
"Hey Arnold!" she declared shoving her foot against the back of Arnold's chair. "Listen up! I'm playing guitar at the Cocohut tomorrow, so you'd better show up!" she said speaking of the after-school talent program. Arnold cringed on reflex.
"Sure, Helga," the boy promised. "I'll be there!"
"Good!" said Helga, her arms crossed. She glared off into the corners of the room.
"Hm," said Gerald to Arnold as the two boys walked down Vine Street on their way home after school. "Another development!"
"I'll say!" said Arnold. He lifted up a hand and lay it out in the air in gesture. "Who'd have ever thought Helga would take up guitar? Not me!" As the two boys walked past Mrs. Vitello's flowershop, the window display caught Arnold's gaze. He walked backwards and paused for a better look within. There were roses of every color.
"Hm," said Arnold thinking. "Maybe I should get Helga a bouquet. You know, to congratulate her on her concert."
"Don't just think! Do!" said Gerald giving Arnold a firm shove against his back. Then Gerald pointed into the shop window with a scowl. "You need those flowers! Now get on in there and buy them!"
"Okay!" Arnold stated with a mild shrug. The shop bell tingled as he exited a few minutes later, a small bouquet in his hand. He held them up for Gerald's inspection.
"I got pink flowers!" said Arnold. "Like her bow! Do you think they'll do?" Gerald inspected them carefully, then shrugged.
"They'll have to do! Now don't, and I mean DON'T forget to bring them to school with you tomorrow! Keep them in your locker, if you like. See you tomorrow!"
"See ya!" waved Arnold as the two friends reached the boarding house. Arnold scooted inside after the pets had streamed by.
The day following, Arnold nervously sat down on a chair in the school cafeteria. Mr. Simmons and volunteer students had rearranged the room and set up a temporary stage so that yet again, they could have the little talent show they called the Cocohut. Helga had told jokes here, but today when she strode up to the stage she held a guitar in her hand and looked really nervous. She gave a deep sigh into the microphone.
"Today, I will be playing the first guitar song that I've learned!" said Helga. "I'm new, so it probably won't be very good, but here goes!" Helga struck the guitar softly in a slow and basic tune. It lasted all of two minutes, but it was very soft. Arnold hadn't had to cover his ears after all. The unenthusiastic crowd applauded politely. Arnold stood up and moved toward the stage.
"Wow, Helga!" said Phoebe. "It was delightful! Have you ever considered playing the violin? Then you and I could play together!" Phoebe chatted before Helga's attention turned to the approaching Arnold. Helga's eyes skittered away, timid.
"Hi, Arnold. How was it?" Helga asked, almost afraid to ask. To be honest, it wasn't an impressive song. Rather than say anything negative though, Arnold's voice turned rusty as the breath caught in his throat. "It was.. Nice! Great job, Helga!" Arnold smiled an awkward smile.
"Really? Of course! Well, that is to say… I mean… thanks Arnold!" Helga mumbled out bashfully resting on her toe.
Arnold glanced behind him, thinking of the flowers he hid behind his back. Forcing a smile, Arnold pulled the bunch of pink roses from behind his back. Feeling bashful himself, he offered them to Helga.
"Here, Helga, these are for you!" Arnold said as boldly as he could manage. He held as still as possible while Helga plucked the pink roses out of his hand. Arnold was astonished when Helga broke out into a wide, intoxicated grin.
"What?" asked Arnold, his eyes widening. "What's with that look? Did I do something right?" He cast his eyes all around him.
"You bet you did!" Helga exclaimed. Helga buried her nose into the bouquet of roses. Inhaling their scent with a loud sniff, she lifted her head with a giddy smile, the bouquet crushed against her chest. Then she looked off into the distance with a dopey, faroff grin. Arnold stared at the girl's reaction to his gift. At his side, Gerald nudged Arnold with his elbow.
"See, Arnold? There may be hope for you yet!" Gerald declared with pride. "Well done, man!" The end.