Stupid Bob with his dumb, stupid belt. For Pete's sake, it was just an ugly, stupid belt! What was so great about that thing! All the diamonds on there were fake and the thing was crazy stretched out. And anyway, it's not like I meant to get hot sauce on it. It's HIS fault for leaving it on the table while I was eating breakfast, which I had to make myself using what little food Mirium had for us in the fridge. I don't know, maybe it was her fault for only giving me the option of taco shells and hot sauce to eat for breakfast. Even if I meant to do it on purpose, I defiantly didn't deserve to get slapped across the face. It didn't leave a mark or anything, but it sure as heck did sting for a while.

I stomped my way through the halls of the school loudly and obnoxiously, making it clearly visible that I didn't want anyone to approach me or get in my way. I was already too mad about this morning and I didn't want to have to snap at someone and accidentally take my anger out on them. I gave nasty scowls to anyone I walked past, too, just to make the message crystal as day. Stay away. I approached my locker and fiercely put in my locker combination, then harshly swung the door of it open, earning a loud *Chink* as it made contact with another locker next to it. I grabbed my books and slammed the door shut. Gosh, it's been a while since I've been this mad. As I was about to make way for class, I heard my name being called by a gentle, female voice.

"Helga! Wait up, please!" I stopped and turned around to see Phoebe running towards me. Phoebe! She always makes me feel better! She could almost literally say anything to me and make me happier. I guess it was just the fact that she was my only friend and wasn't afraid of me. Then again, it's easy to understand why everyone else was afraid of me. I was mean, but only so nobody asked me about my home life. I didn't want anyone to feel pity for me. I could handle myself. Just as long as I had one person to let out all my worries at. Said person being Phoebe, the only one who took a chance with me when we were in first grade.

"Hey Pheebs. What's up." She came up to me and bent down to grab her knees, panting. "Sheesh Phoebe. You only ran down the hall. You need to get out more."

"Well, if I did that, Helga, I would be using up time that I could be using for studying." She gave her nerdy reply through smaller pants as she cooled down.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Anyways, did you need to tell me something or did you just want to walk to class together." I smiled at her so she understood that what I said wasn't intended to sound mean. I turned my body to signal to her that I was going to start walking and she came to my side, and we started together.

"Actually, I mostly needed to tell you something. More like ask, I suppose. I was kind of curious as to how far you got on the writing portion of our project."

"Don't be such a worry-puss. I got it done, just like I said I would. I got it right here." I pulled the papers out of my dress top and handed them to Phoebe. Our project was about friendship, because Mr. Simmons thought it was a good idea for everyone to reach down deep and think hard about what it meant to each of us. He assigned us in groups of two, and thankfully, I got Pheebs. I just jotted down some stuff that sounded like cheesy barf, but I knew it would get an A.

"I must say I'm impressed, Helga. Five pages, and they're all beautifully written."

We approached the door to PS 118. Before entering, I looked down at my speed reader of a friend. "Eh, it was no skin off my bones. You had the hard part of doing the stupid worksheets he gave out."

We entered and separated, taking different routes to our seats. It appeared that everyone was already in here except our teacher.

I sat down in my seat with a huff. It only took a minute for my bad mood to completely resurface. I dropped my books onto my desk and opened the one on top. It was a social studies book. I ripped out one of those blank pages from the front and wadded it up to relieve some of the anger and then got an idea. With the paper wad crumpled up in my left hand, I leaned partially from my seat so I could look past in front of me. There. Target acquired. I focussed all of my energy into staring at the golden blond hair of my crush. My beloved Arnold. The golden blond seemed to tilt, as if it where about to turn my way. I pulled my arm back and threw. Direct hit.

Arnold turned all the way in his seat and gave me an annoyed grimace and turned back around. Part of my aggravation melted away in seeing his face. Oh, Arnold, if only you knew. If only you knew how much you and I were meant to be. But, of course, fait shall keep us apart forever. And if fait doesn't, I will. It hit me around two weeks ago that if I truly do like-like Arnold, I should just not even bother trying to be with him. (Not that I was really trying all that hard before.) It would be selfish to bring an angel like him into the hellish world I lived in. I already feel bad that Phoebe has to deal with me talking about what I go through, I wasn't going to bring Arnold along for the ride, too. My daydreams and fantasies of us as boyfriend and girlfriend would just have to suffice.

Mr. Simmons finally decided to show up, and he did so with a cheeky, over enthusiastic, grin. "Well, good morning class. It looks likes everyone's here. That's just wonderful. So, I figure we should begin class by presenting our written portions of last night's projects. We'll turn the worksheets in with them at the end. Let me write down attendance and then we can get started!"

... present? When on Earth did he mention presenting our crud yesterday? There was no way I was going to read what I wrote down to the whole class! A lot of that stuff was incredibly corny, and not something anyone would expect from me. I did a sort of half stand and looked across the room towards Phoebe. She glanced at me and gave me a frown and a knowing nod. She was going to read what I wrote and say she was responsible for it, along with the worksheets. Basically, I was letting myself get an F so I wouldn't have to share my writing. Not only that, but I was letting myself look like a bad friend who made my bestie do all the work. It was worth it to me. No one except Phoebe knew how I wrote. And I was keeping it that way. I suppose Mr. Simmons would have found out today, but looks like things changed so he wouldn't.

"Alright, class! I have the attendance done with. So, who wants to present first!" What an idiot. Nobody WANTS to present first. The room was silent for a couple of minutes as everyone looked around at each other to see who would snap first.

"Come on Sid. We can go."

"Aaarnold! Ugh, fine!" Arnold and Sid stood and headed to the front of the class, each holding papers. Everyone else seemed to give out a relieved breath at the same time.

"Alright! Thank you Arnold and Sid for volunteering. Now, tell the class who did what and then one of you begin to read the written part."

"Well, I did the worksheets and Arnold did the writing."

"Yeah, what Sid said. So, I'll read what I wrote now I guess. Alright, here I go... Friendship. To me, friendship is being nice to who you consider your friends. It's willing to help out whenever things get sticky. It's being - ..."

I listened with attentiveness as Arnold spoke. It was all a bunch of generic goodie-two-shoes stuff, but he managed to make it sound beautiful. When all was said and done, everyone except me clapped. I mean, I did clap, but I did it mentally.

After a couple more groups went up and sputtered there own generic crap, it was my groups turn. Me and Phoebe made our way to the front for our turn. I spoke up first. "Pheobe did the worksheets and the written portion all by herself. I didn't do squat." The class immediately glared at me as if I was Satan. I shrugged it off. What I said just now did sound kinda terrible. Oh well. Phoebe cleared her throat.

"Right, so um, I'll begin reading now. I have five pages here, so bare with me fellow classmates. Friendship. Friendship is, in a way, just another form of love. A less intimate form, and a slightly less loyal bound one. However, it will have it's intimate moments and it does require a certain amount of loyalty. Friendship is a non-written from of agreement that states: I will stand by your side through not just the bad, but the good. I will make time for you and make memories with you. And at any moment in time, this agreement could all end." Pheebs read everything out with perfect rhythm. Some of the girls in the class had teared up, and some of the guys had looks of awe. When she finished, everyone gave a standing ovation and clapped loudly for her. I seemed to be the only who noticed that she was frowning the whole time she spoke. She was obviously upset that I didn't take credit for my own work.

Mr. Simmons came up behind us and placed a hand on Phoebe's shoulder. "Phoebe, that was absolutely amazing! I, there are just no words I have. That was simply astounding. An A plus without a doubt. And Helga, all I can say is, I'm ashamed that you didn't do anything. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to give you an F."

"Woopdi Do." He took the papers and we sat back down. It was almost lunch and one last group was up. Rhonda and Gerald. As Rhonda passed me making her way to the front, I gave her an especially nasty look. I don't know why, but lately, there's just been something about her that makes me want to just scream at her. Maybe I would later today. I still had some angry in me from this morning that I could let out. I would maybe say something to her about how snobby she was. I don't know.

When I gave her that look, she just hmphed and did that prissy little nose in the air thing she always does. Jeez, what a bitch. She and Gerald stood before the class. "Mkay, Miss Rhonda here did the writing part, and I did the worksheets."

"Indeed. Now, I'll read. Of course, it won't measure up to what Phoebe had, but here's what I have. Friendship. Friendship is like fashion. It's totally big, crazy, and necessary for survival. If you don't have it, you might as well be rags. Friendship is colorful, like a wardrobe. There's reds and greens and everything. It's in, and it's out. And sometimes, it's unexpected, like random trends that pop out of nowhere. Friendship is expensive, like clothes. It doesn't just come free. There. That's everything I wrote." I had to admit, it was original and kind of interesting, what she wrote. Still was going to yell at her later though.

"Rhonda, that was, certainly interesting. Everyone, give Rhonda a round of applause and then get ready for lunch." Everyone gave some claps, clearly unimpressed with what she wrote. Wierd, it was actually pretty good. These dopes don't know good and original unless it's intricate and complex. Everyone stirred and moved around to prepare for lunch. I didn't.

I didn't really have time to pack a lunch, what with Bob barking at me and all. Even if I did have time, there was nothing to pack. After I get home from school today, I'll probably grab some money from Miriam's purse and do some grocery shopping. I've done it before on a couple of occasions. The bell rang and the room emptied It's students in seconds, leaving me behind. Even Pheebs ran out, crazed with a desire to eat I assume. I sighed and slumped out of my chair and trudged towards the door. I could roam the halls for a bit to pass the time. I didn't have money in my lunch account, either, so I was going to have to go without. Right before I left the room, I heard Mr. Simmons voice. "Helga, I'm surprised you didn't do any of the assignment." I turned my head to see a concerned look on my teacher's face. "You've never not turned in an assignment before. Any reason you didn't today?"

"Nope." I gave him my simple response and exited into the hallway. I didn't get too far when I noticed someone sitting up against a wall, not in the lunchroom, reading a magazine. I approached to see who it was. It was a fashion magazine, and it was Rhonda.

"Hey, Rhonda, watcha ya reading there. It must be really stimulating." I spoke in a rather unpleasant, sarcastic tone.

"I'll have you know, it's the new addition of Trend Weekly, and it is very stimulating. YOU just wouldn't understand. Mongrel."

"Whatever, Lloyd. So watcha doin' out here. Shouldn't you be eating? Or are you too good for that, too?"

"I'll have you know, I'm not eating because I need to lose weight. Anyways, shouldn't YOU be eating."

"That's non of your business. And lose weight?! Your already practically a walking pencil! What do you need to lose weight for?"

"Hmph." There she goes with the nose thing again. "I suppose that it's not your concern. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to the lady's room." She gathered herself from the floor and dusted off nothing from her pants and left for the restroom. I continued my walk.

I paused at the lunchroom doorways and peered inside to see what special I would be missing today. I also made a mental note to myself that I totally didn't really yell at Rhonda. Oops. I scanned around and found someone with a tray. Looks like meatball sub. Darn, I loved that stuff. I scanned around some more and locked my eyes onto the table in back, where Arnold was sitting. With Lila. I dropped my head and my shoulders and continued on my way. I shouldn't have felt so bad considering I basically had given up on him.