Beforehand--This is it, Part 2 of Arnold's high school story. I really hope that you all will like the story of this year as much as you did the last one--maybe even more. I'm super excited about it and I pray that you will be too. Thanks for reading the last one, and if you didn't, don't sweat it. :) Happy reading, loves. Onward to sophomore year. Enjoy.
Dis-claym-urr: Craigy B's property, not mine.
---
Chapter 1: Summer of '03
"Whaddya wanna do?"
"I dunno, what do you wanna do?"
"I dunno, what do you wanna do?"
"Let's watch the Comedy of Terror."
"But we done watched that last night."
"Then how about Omega Man?"
"I sawr that one 'bout a million times."
"Wayne's World?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Fine, you pick a movie!"
"I don' really wanna watch one."
"Then whaddya wanna do?"
"I dunno Sid, whatever you wanna do."
"Man, dude--Harold, what do you wanna do?"
"…I wanna eat!"
---
Dear Baby Sister--
I was going to tell you and Mommy and Daddy before I left last week, but I just couldn't find it in myself to tell them face-to-face. I'm moving to Alaska permanently, meaning I won't be living anywhere near home anymore. I'm afraid I would have been discovered had I stayed near Hillwood, so I decided to break up with Eddie and leave. It was so very hard to do, and no one even understands--but I knew that you would, Baby Sister, and that's the reason why you're the only one who will know why I left. Please keep this secret, Helga, and please don't be bitter about me living so far away from you and our parents. This is what's best for me and for everyone else. As long as I can be a teacher, I can be happy, and that's all that matters. I couldn't risk losing that in Hillwood. Always do what makes you happy, Helga! I'll inform you of the next time I'll be paying a visit, but I'm sad to say that it will have to be a long while from now. Write me plenty of letters in the meantime. Hopefully someday I can come back, and possibly teach at your high school--wouldn't that be fantastic?!
Love, Olga
---
"Ooh…Sheena, Look at him!"
Nadine elbowed Sheena in the ribs, hard, pointing to a tall, very tan lifeguard standing by the table on the other side of the dining room. He must have been taking a break, because he was still donned in uniform, sipping from a Gatorade bottle and talking to one of the waiters. He conversed with him animatedly, using his hands, and the smile never left his face.
"Nadine, he's probably not even in high school!" Sheena whispered, hitting her friend on the leg.
"So? You're allowed to look at him. Geez, he's mad cute. So's the waiter, but he's gotta be like, twenty-something."
Sheena sighed and reverted back to eating her sushi, but glanced back up to peer at the lifeguard again a few seconds later.
"Actually," Sheena began to say, looking hard at the boy, "he could pass for a senior."
"Told ya," Nadine giggled. "Make him come over here!"
"Nadine! What on earth for?"
"To talk to him, duh!" Nadine said almost too loudly.
"Nadine, I don't need to talk to him, I have a boyfriend!" she said incredulously.
The blonde girl shrugged. "He's not here."
Sheena looked over the lifeguard again. This time, he looked back at her, grinning widely. His eyes were electric blue.
She found herself smiling back.
---
The park had become her new favorite place to write. The back of it, between the stone wall and the bushes, where nobody usually stepped foot. The grass was cleaner there, and all the birds gathered in the nearby trees. Helga supposed the loud-mouthed and obnoxious elementary kids at the playground were the reasons why all the animals settled in this particular area. Despite the chirping and whistling of the robins and blue jays, Helga had complete silence as she sat there, scribbling down nonsense rhymes and dreaming up possible romantic run-ins with her beloved football-head. Wouldn't it be sweet to have him sitting atop the wall, peering down at her lovingly and admiring the way her fingers fumbled up and down the pages?
"Helga?"
It was a normal reflex; slamming the notebook shut and shooting her gaze directly upward. Standing over her, there he was, his figure illuminated by the glorious sunlight.
"What're you doing here all by yourself?" he asked, bending over slightly with one hand shading his eyes.
Pulling herself upright and hugging the notebook to her chest, Helga felt herself retort, "Wha--none of your beeswax, Football Head, geez, why you always gotta be so freakin' nosey? Am I forbidden to conjugate alone in the back of the park for a few hours' peace? Criminey!"
"I'm--sorry Helga, I didn't mean to interrupt any--"
"It's whatever, Arnoldo," she told him fiercely, brushing the grass off of her denim shorts. "What're you doing back here then, huh?"
Arnold rubbed his bare arm and looked downward at the ground, stumbling over his words a bit as he answered, "I was just, uh--looking for you, actually, I--"
"Looking for me?" she said in disbelief. The anger in her tone completely evaporated.
"Gerald's out camping with his family for a few days, and the guys are gonna be working, so I just…" he looked right at her and a smile made its way into his lips. "I wanted to know if you'd like to hangout."
"Hangout?" she blurted. "With just you?"
Arnold shrugged. "Not like we've never done it before, Helga," he reminded her, slightly chuckling.
She swallowed, feeling her insides melting like hot lava as she did so. "Well--well, fine, I guess I can manage to dedicate a few precious hours to entertaining your dull--"
Arnold laughed, interrupting her. "Helga--shut up."
"Excuse me?" she snapped, one hand on her hip.
He shook his head, smiling. "Come on."
Grabbing her arm, Arnold jerked his head to the right and pulled her out from behind the bushes.
---
He died two years ago that day. The eleventh of June, 2001, at seven o' clock in the evening. He'd been driving upstate to see her, because she'd asked him to come. Just for a few hours; just for dinner. No pressure. After all this time, she had finally been ready to fix it. Although she was hopeful to make it up to him, to finally reveal the truth buried beneath the façade she'd built over the years, she wasn't expecting him to accept. She just wanted a chance, and unsurprisingly, he took it. It would be the start she was hoping for.
"I'll cook for you," she had promised.
"You know I love your chicken," he had told her.
She remembered how his voice poured into the receiver, and how he argued that she should hang up first. Her throat strained. If only she hadn't invited him over; if she hadn't asked him to drive two hours on the interstate, maybe he wouldn't have been hit. Maybe that truck would have hit some other poor, unfortunate soul. Maybe he'd still be alive.
Looking at Palmer and herself now, after all that happened--it was like looking at two entirely different people. Both of them so vibrant, so happy, so full of life, and without any cares in the world. That's how he was after he divorced Kathy--that horrible bitch Kathy, who wanted him to settle in her father's business and work eighty hours a week and play soccer with his son and take his daughter shopping every weekend. Kathy, who wanted diamond rings and a Jacuzzi and designer clothes and a house in the dead center of the city with little dogs and six children. Kathy, who wanted the world in the palm of her hands, while her husband just wanted freedom. Elena could never figure out why he married her, until she took up art herself. Kathy had been his inspiration. His muse. He couldn't create anything without her…
Until he saw the truth. Until he broke free of her chokehold. Until he divorced her.
True love didn't come in a jewel-studded music box. If only he'd seen it sooner, maybe Elena would have forgiven him in time. If only she wasn't so stubborn and impatient and distrusting, they could have had their chance. If only she believed him when he said he loved her the first time.
Elena Hawkins cleaned the dust off of the photograph's frame. If only.
---
"Sid! Something in the mail for ya!"
The black-haired boy slid down the railing from upstairs and hurtled into the living room. His father handed him a small postcard and settled on the couch.
"From your girlfriend, I think, there's the Eiffel Tower on that card."
Grinning madly, Sid picked it up and glanced at the writing, which was indeed Rhonda's.
Dear Sid--
Paris is absolutely gorgeous! We climbed up the Eiffel Tower last night and had an overview of the entire city! We're going shopping tonight at some of the best boutiques, and I can hardly wait! I thought of you at dinner last night, while I was watching my parents eat at their own table in the back of the candlelit room. I wished it was us. I miss you, boyfriend.
3, Rhonda
Sid turned over the card and gazed lovingly at the photograph on the back. There was indeed the Eiffel Tower photographed on the back; fully lit and glowing beneath a midnight sky. Sighing, he guessed that the lights were shining brighter where she was.
---
Sunday. Their day. If she called any day of the week, it was always Sunday. It was routine for Curly and Helga to talk over the phone on that particular day of every week. A pact not signed, but an unspoken tradition that he expected to be upheld. Summer vacation didn't make anything different. If anything, she should be calling more often. It wasn't like she had anything outrageously exciting to do. Helga's pathetic life consisted of locking herself in her bedroom and filling notebooks with fantasies and journals and novels for and about Arnold. What could she possibly be doing on a Sunday that was more important than talking to him?
---
Clouds were beautiful. Arnold had always been fascinated with clouds. Not even just clouds, actually; he thought the sky as a whole was magnificent. It was like a person, with its different moods and looks. It was inconsistent, just like people were. Sometimes it was gloomy, other times it was bright. Sometimes really light, other times especially dark. Inviting, and then frightening. The clouds just added to it, like accents or defining features. Arnold guessed that if the sky was a face, the clouds would be the eyes. During the day, at least. The stars were the eyes at night, he thought, but he didn't watch them as much as he did clouds.
"Why?" Helga asked that afternoon, turning her head to look at him lying next to her in the grass. "The stars are prettier!"
Arnold rested his arms behind his head. "Yeah. But that's it. You can't watch stars. They don't do anything. Clouds talk to you."
Helga looked up at the sky again, watching the lumps of cumulus float above their heads.
"Fine, genius, what's that one saying?" she asked, pointing to a linear-shaped cloud directly above them. It seemed to be waving slightly side-to-side.
Arnold smiled cheerily. "Hello."
---
Phoebe Heyerdahl had never seen a dead body before. She knelt before the open casket, staring wide-eyed and incredulously at her grandfather's pale, wrinkled face. It was the first time she'd seen him in ten years. She didn't imagine at five years old that the next time she'd be seeing him, he'd be lying in a casket, cold and completely lifeless. It was then that she discovered the one-word definition of life: unexpected.
Eyes brimming with tears, Phoebe bit hard on her bottom lip and stood up. She took one last look at him, and then turned to walk up the aisle to sit with her crying parents.
---
"I was wondering when you'd call."
"I'm ever so sorry, Eddie."
"No worries, lovely. How are you?"
"To be perfectly honest, I'm certain that I'm miserable."
"Miserable? Why?"
"…It's not the same."
"Of course it's not, you're in the middle of nowhere."
"No, Eddie, I mean that it's ever so different, being here without my father. And my mother's gone too…My aunt is wonderful, but I'm just so lonely…"
"It breaks my heart to hear you say that, lovely…"
"Eddie, I don't know what to do…"
"You miss it up here?"
"I do. And I miss you."
"Then come home."
"That's not my home anymore, Eddie."
"Home is where the heart is, Lila."
---
Contentment. Fearlessness. Total relaxation. The wide, open acres of sandy beach and the crashing of the waves heard over squawking of seagulls. Nothing to be seen for miles but the beauty of the summer.
Eugene Horowitz had never felt so safe. It wasn't that he was out of the way of anything even slightly dangerous; it was the awareness that he was, in a sense, protected. He had been promised to be kept safe. Meeting the blue eyes that he'd soon be smitten with, he knew it was real. He saw something there and he'd never seen in Sheena's--or any other girl's, for that matter. It was different--new, and alarming, but something told him--"Don't be afraid."
Those blue eyes seemed to smile back at him. He turned back around and raised his arms and hollered out towards the ocean. He had finally found himself.
---
She's so pretty.
Arnold shook his head several times, as if the thought could fall off of his brain, like a bothersome fly. But he looked at her again, sitting on the dock with her long legs dangling over the edge. The setting sun made the glows of orange and pink dance on her skin and in her hair, but it wasn't the perfect lighting that made her look so beautiful. There had been contentment in her countenance; something he hadn't seen in her in…forever. The scowl was absent from her face; no furrowing of the brow; instead of a purse, straight line in her lips, they were slightly parted and pink. Her blue eyes gazed heavenward, towards the slowly disappearing clouds.
"Helga…" he heard himself say. He didn't know what would follow. It didn't matter.
"What?" she asked, breaking concentration and looking at him.
Shaking his head again, he lost focus. I guess what followed her name did matter somewhat. "Oh, uh…you wanna go eat?"
Rolling her eyes and rising up, she said, "About time you asked that, I'm starving."
---
"Elena--It's a little later than I expected."
"You remembered."
"I couldn't forget. Do you need to talk?"
"Doctor…I actually have a favor to ask."
"Whatever I can do."
"Would you happen to still have that…painting?"
"…The painting?"
"The painting."
"Of course I still have it. It's hanging in my favorite spot."
"Doctor--Susan…I feel awful for wanting to ask…but would you be terribly hurt…"
"Elena…do you want it?"
"I'm sorry…it's just…I don't have any of his other works…"
"Elena, of course you can have it."
"Do you mean it, Susan?"
"Yes I do. It's more important to you than anyone else."
"Are you sure I can take it? I know you don't have many reminders of what I once was…"
"I have plenty, dear. Come pick it up tomorrow around noon."
"Noon is fine. Thank you, Susan, this means the world…"
"You're welcome, Elena…now get some rest. God knows you haven't been sleeping too well."
"You always know…goodnight, Doctor."
"Goodnight, dear."
---
The sweet, fruity taste of the Shirley Temple slid down her throat as she took note of the boy eyeing her from across the room. Dark hair, pretty eyes, freckles on is arms--he looked eerily similar to Eddie. Maybe that's why she thought he was so attractive.
He winked at her. He noticed her looking that way. Blushing, she turned her body to the table and refilled her glass. She wondered why they didn't put alcohol in these drinks, and why she felt that she needed some.
Footsteps came her way. In a panic, she whirled back around, meeting eyes with him.
"Hello, what are you doing over here all alone?" He even sounded like Eddie.
"Oh, I'm not alone, my aunt is…over there, talking with her friends," Lila answered, gesturing to their right.
"Meaning you're by yourself over here," the boy said knowingly, smiling.
Lila stared up at him, wide-eyed and uncertain. There didn't seem to be anything for her to say.
He chuckled. "What's your name?"
"Lila Sawyer," she answered quietly, sipping her drink.
"I'm Robbie Fin," he told her brightly, taking her free hand and planting a light kiss on it.
"You're quite a gentleman," Lila said, feeling her face get hot.
"Just a well-raised country boy," he told her. "You seem to be done with that Shirley."
"It was my fifth one."
"Want something stronger?" he asked plainly, raising his eyebrows.
Lila nodded, smiling flirtatiously. Robbie held out his arm, and she looped hers inside of it.
---
Arnold and Gerald decided not to go to the carnival. Grandma had much better fireworks stashed in the closet anyway, plus they could eat hot dogs and ice cream without having to pay three dollars for either.
The Sunset Arms was nearly deserted that Independence Day, with all of the boarders celebrating three streets over. Gerald Johanssen sat atop the grand piano and gazed reproachfully at the exploding lights in the sky. Under the bangs and booms and whistles of the firecrackers, Gerald could hear Arnold and Helga laughing and talking animatedly at the table under the tent. He believed his eyes to be playing tricks on him when he saw Arnold touch her arms and hold her gaze for a few seconds too long. He sighed. It wasn't until that night that he really noticed the spaces between his fingers.
---
The Jacuzzis closed at eleven pm. At least, that's what the sign said. Sheena stared at it in the dimly lit hall, waiting anxiously for the lifeguard to come this way and open the gate. She wondered there, in the subtle dark, why she let Nadine talk her into doing this, but she answered herself when she saw a figure coming towards her.
Because he was gorgeous.
"I didn't think you'd come," he said to Sheena, smiling. The whites of his teeth almost glowed in the dark.
"I didn't think I would either," she said truthfully, looking up at him shyly. He chuckled and pulled a key from his pocket, and unlocked the gate.
"Why is that?" he asked, walking towards the smallest hot tub. He bent down and switched the controls on. "Gotta let it heat up for a minute."
"Well, you see, I've got a boyfriend--"
"Oh?" he said, his features brightening.
"Yeah, and--I'm not sure he'd appreciate knowing that I snuck out at one in the morning to go in a Jacuzzi with an older lifeguard," she explained in a higher voice than usual.
"Well, I'm not that much older," he told her knowingly. "It's not like your thirteen or something."
"Well, you're not fifteen," Sheena said coyly.
"We're both in high school," he began, "so it's not a big difference. What's your name?"
"Sheena," she answered slowly.
"Leo," he said, grabbing the end of his shirt. He pulled it up over his head, revealing his athletic abs. Sheena, in turn, untied the straps on her dress and pulled it off so that she stood in front of him in her bikini.
"Nice abs," he said to her, scanning her body.
"I could say the same for you," she returned.
"You work out?" he asked, sticking his foot in the hot tub to check the temperature. "It's warm enough now."
"I do yoga," she told him, stepping into the water. A perfect ninety-seven degrees.
"Your boyfriend do it with you?" he asked jokingly, now fully engulfed in the tub. "Want the jets on?"
"He doesn't, no, and yes, I'd like them."
"Do you feel bad about being in here with me?" he asked softly, inching closer to her in the water.
Sheena gazed into Leo's face uncertainly, unsure of how to answer. She was, yes, but then again, she wasn't.
"You must not like him that much if you're gonna be here," he said, noticing her lack of confidence.
Sheena moved forward, touching her chest to his and grabbing his hands under the water.
"You're right. I don't."
---
Why was it so dark?
Where was the table with all the food, and the lights, and the voices of Aunt Minnie and her friends?
Where was her drink? She was so certain she had it in her hand a minute ago, when she was standing by the room, up against the wall, with Robbie. But where was he?
He had kissed her, she remembered that much. And she had taken another drink afterward. Maybe two more. Or was it three? She didn't know, and she didn't recall coming into this bedroom…
When did she come in here? Why was she lying down? Whose bed was this?
Where was Robbie?
Lila asked herself all of these questions repeatedly as she sat upright beneath those unfamiliar sheets. The scent of alcohol and cigarettes swam in her head. She looked down and gasped, horrified.
Where were her clothes?
A nearby chair had a green skirt and a white blouse draped over it. She remembered wearing that when the party started. Touching her hands to her waist under the covers, she felt that her panties were absent.
Gasping as if she were drowning, Lila scrambled out of the bed, completely naked, frantically searching for her undergarments. How could she have lost them?
There they were, on the floor, by the chair. Lila snatched them up and slipped them over her legs, shifting her gaze left and right in search for her bra. It was sitting on the windowsill ahead of her. How on earth did it get over there?
Scrambling to clothe herself, Lila fumbled in the dark for the lamp, turned it on, and looked about the room. Her purse was nowhere in sight, and several empty glasses were lined on a nearby table. Shaking her head, she swung open the door and peered down the staircase. The lights were still on and cheery voices were heard clear as day. Her purse sat against the wall, the last place she remembered being. Hurrying, she picked it up and gracefully descended the stairs, hoping that her aunt hadn't noticed her absence; that she hadn't been gone that long.
Aunt Minnie was sitting at one of the tables with three other women, all blonde and big-breasted, donned in denim shorts and clutching bottles of beer. They all laughed collectively as Minnie told them some story about an ex-husband. None of them noticed as Lila approached their table, open-mouthed and waiting to talk to her aunt.
"Oh, there you are, darling," Minnie said between laughs. "I haven't seen you in hours, what've you been doing?"
But Lila didn't know.
---
He was empty. Maybe that's why he ate so much.
Harold sat in front of Mr. Green's butcher shop with a plate of sausages in his lap. He was taking a break, the worst part of his working day, because it allowed him time to think. Nothing good came out of thinking, because he always thought of Rhonda.
Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, the queen of Hillwood and his friend Sid's adored girlfriend. The epitome of perfection; everything he hated but still wanted all the same. His opposite in more ways than one; clean, beautiful, rich, and intelligent. He wanted to be like her as much as he wanted to be with her.
But he couldn't do either. Nothing was going to change the way he was, so he went on feeling empty. He went on eating, thinking that one day, he was finally going to get his fill. Harold Berman, alone and naïve, kept right on purging; unknowing that it wasn't his stomach that had been empty, but his heart.
---
Gerald had been tossing a tennis ball over his head and catching it repeatedly for about twenty minutes as he and Arnold conversed about this and that.
"Phoebe's coming home tomorrow," Gerald told him brightly, grinning madly. He'd been counting down the days since she left.
"Yeah, and Rhonda gets back on the twenty seventh," Arnold said. "Sheena and Nadine should be back next week."
"Isn't Curly home already?" Gerald asked off-handedly.
"Yeah, Helga went to see him today," Arnold answered slowly, looking at the ground.
"You don't sound too happy about that," Gerald pointed out, tossing the tennis ball at his friend.
Arnold caught it. As he threw it back, he said, "It's whatever, Gerald, he's her friend too. What, is she not allowed to talk to other guys?"
"I dunno, you've been pretty set on keeping her all to yourself lately," Gerald said slyly, throwing the ball back at him.
"Gerald, it hasn't been like that," Arnold argued, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.
Gerald laughed. "You've been hanging with her almost every day since the middle of June, man!"
"What's your point?"
Laughing again, Gerald shook his head and tossed the ball on the floor. "I told you when school let out, man. I told you, something was gonna happen with you and her."
Incredulous, Arnold threw his arms up in the air. "Nothing is happening, Gerald!"
"Sure, sure man. Whatever you say, bro."
"Gerald, I'm serious."
Raising an eyebrow, Gerald asked, "You mean you're gonna tell me that in all that time you spent with her, you don't feel anything different?"
Silent for just a moment, Arnold played it off like he was thinking it over in his head, but he really didn't need to. He knew. Gerald didn't. Then again, Gerald wouldn't believe him, so he said, "It's been really nice, yeah, but it's not like I fell in love with her or something."
"Ever find out if she loves you?" Gerald asked plainly.
Arnold gave a drawn-out sigh and flopped onto his bed.
"That's a no."
"Does it really matter, Gerald?" Arnold asked loudly, closing his eyes. He knew in his heart that it did, he just didn't know why.
"Not to me, man, but maybe it does to you. I think it should."
"But…why?" Arnold questioned, more so to himself than to Gerald.
"I dunno," Gerald began. "I think it's just one of those things that you should know, ya know?"
Grunting and sighing, Arnold changed the subject. "Do you think things are gonna be different?"
"What--after you find out she's in love with you?" Gerald joked.
"No," Arnold snapped. "I mean when we're all together again."
Gerald twisted his mouth. "It's only been a couple months, Arnold."
"But everyone's been like…far away from each other, and experiencing new things…"
"Why you gotta get all dark and crap like that on me, Arnold?" Gerald asked, half-laughing.
Arnold shot him a dark look and went on, "Really, Gerald. I've been kinda worried. What if everyone like…changed?"
"People don't change, Arnold," Gerald said seriously, walking over to Arnold's bed and sitting next to him. "They just show you different sides of themselves."
"I don't know if I'm ready to deal with that, Gerald," Arnold told him honestly.
"It's gonna be chill, man," Gerald encouraged him. "Everyone'll get back and it'll be like they never left."
"You think so?"
"Yeah. We'll have these last couple weeks, and then start school--and then it'll be back to normal."
---
"Helga."
She looked over at him expectantly.
"Do you think maybe…we've been spending too much time together…?"
As if, she thought. No amount of time alone with Arnold was ever enough for her. Selfish and greedy as she was when it came to him, that thought was the farthest from her mind. Shamelessly, she said, "What gave you that idea?"
Arnold shrugged.
"Do you think we are?" she asked quickly, fearing the answer. She felt her tone of voice giving away her anxiety.
He met her eyes and said encouragingly, "No, no, of course not. Gerald just--"
"Oh, so Tall Hair Boy has a problem with it?" she interrupted defensively.
"No, no," Arnold told her, his eyes soft and worrisome. "He just--I don't know, it's stupid. I just wanted to know if you thought--"
"I don't think we hang out too much, and neither do you, so why's Geraldo got a stick up his ass?"
Arnold turned and looked ahead, towards the water. The two of them had been sitting by the lake for hours, just talking about unimportant whatever's and nothings. Helga stared at him and observed his face: straight and soft with a hint of discomfort. The green in his eyes was dark; a sign that something was bothering him.
"What did he say to you?" Helga questioned, her voice dropping in volume.
"It's…" Arnold began, but sighed and stopped himself again. He brought his knees to his chest and rested his arms on top of them. The position he took when he was in deep thought.
"It's what?" she pressed, inching closer to him. She loved that she had an excuse to be so close.
Arnold shrugged slightly. "Gerald was saying how like…summer can like…that if I was with you too often…"
Panic bubbled in her stomach. She knew what he wanted to say, but she had to pretend she was clueless. She couldn't say it for him. She had to hear it from him.
Arnold looked extremely uneasy, but curious as well. Lifting his head slightly, he gazed toward the lake and took a deep breath.
"Helga…I know we never talked about this, and I know that maybe you forgot, or you wanted to, and I'm sorry that I'm bringing it up now, but…"
Oh shit, she thought, and I thought he forgot…
"Remember when we were like--nine?" he began, smiling slightly. "And that Scheck guy was gonna tear down the buildings in our neighborhood to make a mall complex or whatever?"
How could she forget? "Uh…"
He went on, "You helped me and Gerald by telling us everything we had to know, and then I met up you on the roof of the FTI building?"
Helga bit her lip. She couldn't say a word; she wanted to hear him say it.
Finally, he looked at her. Right in the eyes. He wet his lips and inhaled slowly.
"And you kissed me and told me you…loved me?"
Helga lowered her gaze.
"Do you remember, Helga?"
Of course I do. "Yeah, uh…I guess I do remember that," she felt herself say.
"We said it was like--the heat of the moment," Arnold said.
"Yeah, we did," Helga agreed, afraid of where this was going. Arnold inhaled again, more deeply this time, signaling that he was going to ask another question. If it was the one Helga feared, she had no answer. She couldn't give him the right one. Not now, anyway.
"Why did we say that?" he asked, confirming her fear. "Was it really just a crazy night, or…did we just make up that excuse…?"
Dammit, she thought. What the hell am I supposed to say? Yes, Arnold, I made up that lame excuse because I knew neither of us were ready to admit it. I'm not even ready to admit it right now!
Arnold sighed. She must have been thinking of a response too long, because he threw in the towel.
"You know what, Helga, never--never mind, don't worry about it. I'm sorry. We can talk about it when you're ready."
"But--Arnold, I--"
"Helga," he cut her off, but smiled. "It's okay. I've waited years to get this whole thing cleared up--I think I can wait a little longer."
Oh my God, he knows, she panicked inside her head, looking anxiously into his face. He can't know. He can't even think that he might know. Not now. Not now--
Feeling her guard rise up, she blurted, "There's nothing to clear up, Arnoldo, whatever happened that night happened a century ago, and it doesn't even matter anymore, so just don't worry about it or think that there's some deep meaning or something hiding from you, because there's nothing--so there ya go, wait's over! There's nothing, absolutely no--"
She had no idea that was coming. In a split second, his lips were on hers, silencing her completely. It took everything in her not to kiss back. She couldn't do it; she couldn't let him know that he was right. She forced herself to freeze in place, to react to his kiss as little as possible. She couldn't confirm anything. It just wasn't time yet. As he pulled away quickly, surprised by her lack of movement, she hoped he understood. If he was smart enough to believe that she might possibly feel something for him, he was probably smart enough to realize that she wasn't ready to admit it.
Shocked and befuddled, Arnold scratched the top of his head and shifted his gaze. His breath came in short gasps. "I'm--I'm sorry, Helga, I just--I don't know what came over me, I just--"
Helga hit him on the arm, shutting him up. "Don't you ever, ever do something like that without giving me any warning at all, ever again!"
"I'm sorry, Helga, I just--I just--"
"Whatever, Football Head, don't worry about it," she said, rising up from her spot on the ground. He did the same. Standing inches from his face, increasing the tension only further, she suggested, "Let's just walk home, okay?"
Nodding quickly, Arnold agreed. With a smirk, Helga led the way to the Sunset Arms, where she would most likely be staying for dinner. As they walked, they bumped hands, and she scolded him for walking too close.
She knew he didn't really believe that this was nothing--so she had to devise some plan to make him feel something, too. Glancing at his way, she caught him smiling at her. She gave a groan, but smiled back.
Maybe this mission wouldn't take all of sophomore year to complete.