Author's note: New story for you all, or el cuento nuevo para ustedes (I think that's right, but if it's wrong, give me props for trying. I don't know a lot of Spanish, though I have to say I would love to learn to speak it fluently. In my opinion, it is one of the most beautiful languages).
Disclaimer – I do not own Hey Arnold! That happy (or unhappy, depending on how you look at it) honor belongs to someone else.
A Sure Thing
Chapter 1 – A Distant Memory
~Thursday, April 10~It was a gorgeous spring day; one of those days when you really do thank God you are alive. The sky was the bluest cloudless blue, the birds were singing only the sweetest songs, the grass was as green as the emerald hills of Ireland, and the sun seemed to warm you inside and out. Yes, today was a great day to be alive.
Unless, of course, you were stuck in a notorious hell known as high school. Then the day just taunted you, like test-driving your dream car while you know you could never afford it. These were the thoughts that were going through a certain football head's brain while he was supposed to be researching Title IX for his English paper. His face contorted into a deep frown. What kind of a teacher assigns a huge research paper the first day of class after vacation? he thought bitterly. He had had the time of his life down in Southern California, and while he had reasons to come back to reality, he had just as many to stay away in a fantasyland.
Arnold sighed. It was not that he hated school; he generally liked it, but it was early April and ever since he returned from Spring Break all he wanted to do was play baseball and his guitar. School no longer interested him, and his senioritis (even though he was a junior) was wiping out any motivation he had to actually put effort into his homework. Arnold started drumming his pencil to "Last Nite" out of pure boredom. He had begun counting ceiling tiles when Gerald sat down beside him.
"Hey, man. How's the paper coming?"
Arnold showed him his empty notebook. "How do you think?" He raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be in your English class?" he asked suspiciously, although he was most grateful for company.
"Arnold, I'm supposed to still be on the beaches of California, and I think you will agree with me on that."
Arnold laughed. "You couldn't be more right."
"It is a crime against humanity to keep the children of this fine institution," he started, speaking louder to the group of students who were as bored as Arnold, "in doors, when the good Lord has so graciously bestowed upon us a day so glorious in natural beauty! It is unrecreational, it is unconstitutional, and it's just plain wrong," Gerald proclaimed, his voice increasing in volume with every word.
The group of students, who actually more resembled a crowd now as everyone in the library flocked towards the booming voice, applauded Gerald, who was currently standing on the chair so he could better address his public. "If there is anyone here who dares to argue against me, than that man is a fool, and he can stay here and work his tail off for a school which doesn't even care enough about it's students to give them descent lunch meat while I go and enjoy myself. This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice with pool parties and be glad with such fine ladies as yourselves in bikinis!"
The students went crazy, and Arnold watched with great amusement. Gerald had never lost his edge with public speaking. However, not everyone found it so entertaining.
"Mr. Johannsen!" one of the librarians cried.
"Yes, Ms. Jorgenson?"
"That kind of behavior will not be tolerated in my library, young man!"
Gerald smiled at her. "Ms. Jorgenson, you misunderstood me. I was trying to get the students excited about being in the library. You see, from my speech they could find inspiration."
"And what kind of inspiration were you trying to give them?" she asked coldly.
"My aim was to get them to . . . to . . ." he paused, looking around the large room for inspiration. His eyes fell on Arnold's empty notebook. "To become excited about researching. You see, you cut me off before I could thoroughly explain myself. I was going to say that we're lucking enough that although we're stuck inside on such a wonderful day as this, we're able to drink from the fountain of knowledge in our school's wonderful library that is run by the most amazing and intelligent women, such as yourself."
Ms. Jorgenson blushed deeply. She was young, late twenties or early thirties, plain looking and extremely uptight. Most students guessed that she had gone on very few dates in her lifetime. Thus for such a popular and, Arnold supposed by the general reaction of most females around him, attractive young man to charm her, she easily turned to putty in Gerald's hands. "Well, it was a very stirring speech," she said in a slightly higher voice, her cheeks a light pink.
Gerald made a face, but quickly recovered. He placed a hand over his chest. "That means so much. To receive such an opinion from such a superior being, why, I'm speechless."
Arnold was caught in a state between nausea and intense laugher, and, not wanting to fall to either extremity, he sat while his insides felt like exploding.
Her face turned a darker shade. "Well, just try to be a bit quieter, okay?"
"Whatever I can do to make your job easier. I've always said that the librarians are the hardest working but least appreciated people here, and that's simply a crime. You should be the most appreciated and celebrated for all your hard work."
Ms. Jorgenson's face was now a very distinctive shade of vermilion. "Well, if there's anything I can do for you, you just ask, okay?" she said, clearly flustered from such praises.
Gerald nodded. "I'll be sure to do that."
She finally returned to the offices on the side of the library, extremely pleased. Arnold turned to his friend. "And here I was led to believe you thought the cafeteria ladies were the hardest working but least appreciated people here."
"That's on stuffed-crust pizza day."
"And what's today?"
"Do-whatever-you-can-not-to-get-detention-from-the-librarians-day."
"I see." Arnold said simply, and he returned to his homework, and wrote his name at the top left corner of the page before deciding it was time for another study break. He pulled out his latest issue of Alternative Press and began to flip through it.
Gerald leaned back in his chair and eyed a freshman girl at the table across from them. "This sure beats the hell outta English."
"Speaking of which, how'd you get out of there anyways?" Arnold asked as he averted his attention from his magazine to the ceiling.
"I wrote a pass to the bathroom." The girl smiled at him seductively as she walked over to the computers, and she continued to stare at him.
Arnold finally altered his gaze and smirked. "Cool, just don't go on my stuff." He watched Gerald flirt with the girl from across the library. "I thought you and Rosalie were dating."
"We're just going to prom together. We're not dating or anything."
"Are you sure she knows that?"
"If she doesn't she will soon."
Arnold sighed, disgusted with Gerald's general behavior towards women, and returned to his previous task.
After a few minutes, Gerald turned his attention back to Arnold, clearly bored. "What are you doing?"
Arnold pointed up. "Counting ceiling tiles."
"Now that's exciting. I swear, Arnold, sometimes you seem to have the personality of a wet blanket."
Arnold merely shrugged, so Gerald changed the subject. "So, is the baseball superstar ready for our game tonight?" He shook his head. "I think I read another article or two about you yesterday. 'The pride of South Central,'" he finished sarcastically.
"I'm not a superstar, and diffidently not 'the pride of South Central.'"
"Please, Arnold, don't' try to be modest. You are ranked, like, number two in the stare or something."
"I'm not trying to be. I'm just playing. Anyways, you could be one if you didn't have to balance work and baseball."
"Arnold, if you had a chance to work at a recording company, I think you'd take it."
"Probably, and I know how much you want to bridge the gap between sports and music, since it has never been done before," he said sardonically.
"Hey, I'm going to be just like Nelly, blending hip-hop with –"
"Getting the big hits, making the big shots, and getting paid the big buck the whole way through," Arnold finished. "I just have one question: Where are you going to wear year band-aid?"
"Arnold, how many times have I told you that it is worn in the honor of a friend?" Gerald asked, but his words were drowned out by, "Out of my way, Geek-bait."
They looked at each other. "Helga."
"Some things never change," Arnold said, watching her shove a freshman boy out of a chair.
"You got that right. Man, that girl is the same was she was in elementary school," Gerald added, and he shifted the conversation on to Rhonda's party this weekend, but Arnold was not listening. He was busy thinking about the girl across the room. He saw Helga quite a bit since they had a few classes together and at various social events, but they had drifted apart in junior high and now rarely talked. As he watched her read the newspaper, he could not help but feel a little sad.
She looked up and caught him staring at her. Helga looked very surprised, possibly even slightly hopeful, but glared at him so quickly Arnold was sure he imagined it.
"Arnold?"
"Huh?" he said as he snapped out of his reverie.
"It's five 'til, so I'm gonna go back to class. I'll see ya after school."
"'Kay,." Arnold waited until Gerald left to pull out his journal. He guessed it was dorky, but he got the habit from his dad who said it was a great way to sort out the mind. Arnold grabbed a pen and began to write.
It's funny how you can drift apart from a person when you see them everyday. That's how I feel with Helga. We never were that good of friends, but I still always felt a connection with her. I think out of everyone I've ever known, she's the one who has understood me the best, even more than Gerald. How strange is that? But now she's like a distant memory, a part of my past that I don't think I can ever get back. She was always there from me whenever I needed someone, and she was someone I could always count on to, in her own way, be a shoulder to lean on. Lord, I miss that.
He closed his journal and left the library as the bell ran. He was ready for tonight's game. He had been itching to play all day in the prefect weather. It was South Central High's first home game, and though he was naturally humble, he could not help but want to show was his stuff to anyone and everyone. Junior year was important, and he was ready to finally win the state championship. The last two years South Central had lost in the first round of state, and they should have won both games. As much as Arnold tried to downplay it, he was one of the best players in the state. Scouts would be calling on him a lot this year, and he was ready to everyone exactly what he was made of.
A tall, slender girl with long auburn hair passed him in the hallway. He watched her as she reached her group of friends and began chatting away.
Yes, he as ready to show everyone what he was made of, in more ways than one.
A/N: A little vague, but isn't everything vague in the beginning? Just something to think about. Later days.