History. It was a stupid class meant for those with wide eyes and a mind for past things that meant next to nothing to anybody in my grade.

Everyone that is, except Arnold Shortman.

That kid could SMELL history. He LOVED history like I loved him and while it was slightly angering that the kid was denser than a steel post, there was something about his passion for the topic was…endearing.

Each day I'd go to class with a scowl and find it gone by the end of the period. Not because Mr. Cluver was anyone interesting or had much knowledge to share, but because of the way Arnold's bright green eyes lit up each time a new subject began or ended.

He thrived on it, THAT was easy to tell.

So history class was as good of any-a-class to ask the kid out for once, right?

Ha—WRONG. No WAY was I asking out Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes in HISTORY class of all classes. THAT would make history right there. No, just staring at him made my day and as weird as it sounds, it never got old. Not once.

Well, except that one time.

"So Helga," Arnold said while tapping his pencil on his notebook sheet, "what kind of topic would you like to do for our report?"

I shrugged my shoulders and popped a stick of gum into my mouth and began chewing it with very loud and annoying noises—per usual for me. "I dunno, Arnoldo, why don't YOU think of one, huh? Why's it always gotta be me?"

Arnold smirked and set his pencil down beside his books. "Maybe it's always you because you never give me input on our projects the last three times we've been partners, oddly enough."

Oddly enough, he says. More like planned and strategically so.

"Yeah well, I am no history nerd like you so I think you know more about it than me."

"So why don't you give a try and tell me something you're interested in for once."

I swallowed hard and pursed my lips. "MAYBE I don't WANT to share those interesting details with you, Shortman. Ever think of THAT?"

Arnold twisted in his chair to face me with a very sarcastic and 'I'm-not-buying-it' look plastered on his face. "Of course I have, Helga. Why do you think I'm trying to get you to open up just a little bit?"

"On history," I deadpanned and Arnold shook his head.

"In general, Helga. Just once I'd like to know what it is you think about and are passionate about. Just once."

Once. Just once. The guy wanted me to open up JUST ONCE for him so he could have some leverage next time I teased him and his weird, giant head.

Or maybe, just maybe, he CARED. He CARED about what it was I thought and what it was I cared about so he could get to know me in a way not everybody in the world knew me, which to be honest, all ANYone knew me by was the big bully with a stunning sarcastic wit.

So what was his ANGLE anyway?

I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed. "Fine, twerp, I'll humor you. You wanna know what I want to do our report on?"

"Yes, I really do."

With a big breath I let it out slowly and opened my mouth just enough to force the words out. "Native Americans. I want," I huffed, "I want to do our report on Native American culture. There. You happy?"

"And why?" He continued on, though I'd hoped he wouldn't.

"WHY?" I repeated and he leaned back in the chair with a smug look on his perfect face.

"Yes, Helga, why? There has to be some interest in that for you, isn't there?"

"Well DOI," I said loudly, "why would I pick it if it held no INTEREST for me? I've kinda been into ancient cultures since…" I swallowed my words and stopped mid-sentence with halted breath.

"Since when?"

Oh, I don't know, since I became obsessed with you at a very young age, did a lot of research and, I don't know, built you a SHRINE worthy of the Green-Eyes.

"Just since a while," I muttered while staring down at my notebook and chewing on my lip.

"Well then," Arnold said as if beginning a grand journey, "I guess we should get started on our American History project now, since we have a theme and all."

"Yeah, yeah, you do whatever YOU want. I'LL man the research end." I decided for him and Arnold raised a brow with a sly grin.

"And you'll be able to provide sources, or are we just doing this with your great mind?"

Great mind? I repeated his words in my head and forced back a swoon. He thinks I have a great mind! Oh!

"Don't go flattering me, Football-head," I tried to sound convincing without a single bit of success. "L-let's just get going on this stupid thing, think you can manage? A whole 'nother project with me again, that is?"

Arnold nodded his head and opened up his textbook while keeping his eyes locked on me. "Of course I can, Helga. I think I can handle you after all these years."

"Think? Arnold, you better KNOW."

Arnold's cheeks flushed and he seemed to falter a bit in his wording before taking a breath and saying, "I know I can, you'll see."

I would see, huh? Well, I guess that means that there might be a date asked out in history class after all. Then again, I could only be so lucky.

Didn't mean I couldn't try once though, right? One asking out isn't too much to actually do, now is it?

I smiled to myself as we began work on our project and began researching all of the power point slides I'd know I could work in a date some way or another into.

I was going to ask out Arnold Shortman, the love of my existence.

I supposed THIS is what it feels like to make history.