This is the second chapter of the story as well as the second chapter of the first theme. Hope you like it.
1.) Kindred Spirits
She was an enigma, a mystery that he had been trying to solve for the better part of six years. He had made some progress, but there was so much that he still didn't understand. There were times that he wondered if he would ever truly know Helga G. Pataki. Then he asked himself why he gave a damn about her or her life. Then he answered his own question; He knew that unraveling the mystery of just who Helga was tied directly into his relationship with her. If he could figure her out, their relationship would be forever changed.
To most people, the name Helga G. Pataki conjured up negative words and images. Angry, brash, cynical, domineering, mean, and violent were the words commonly associated with her. About the only positive words ever attached to Helga were usually reserved for males, like tough, fearless, and leader. She was the definition of a tomboy. Aside from Patty Smith, Helga was the most masculine girl in the city. She could play contact sports as well as any boy, she was strong enough to take on most adults in a fight and she was very independent.
She was also violent, short tempered, and sharp-tonged. Helga was known in PS 118 as a bully with a caustic wit. She would push kids into lockers while walking down the hall for seemingly no reason, regularly threatened anyone who got on her nerves or dared to challenge her authority and her fists were infamous for being able to make anybody think twice about crossing her. She had no problem making fun of people, no matter who they were and it was rumored that she could reduce a person to tears with her words alone.
Arnold was acquainted with Helga's negative attributes better than anyone else because he bared the biggest brunt of her wrath every day. Whether it was shooting spitballs in the back of his head, spraying water in his face when he took a drink from the fountain or gluing feathers to his butt when he sat down in class, Arnold was the focus of Helga's cruelty each day.
Anyone else would've grown to despise Helga under such circumstances and anyone else would've fought back. Arnold never did (except once, and he regretted it afterward). He didn't believe in responding to bad behavior with more bad behavior. Despite the torture she inflicted on him, Arnold didn't hate her either. His best friend Gerald often asked him why he didn't hate her and it was a valid question. The truth was that he couldn't. It wasn't that he wanted to hate her because he didn't, but even if he had, he wouldn't have been able to.
Arnold couldn't hate her because he knew that Helga wasn't as bad as she made herself out to be. No matter what she said or how mean she acted, Arnold knew that the mean girl persona was in large part, an act. He had figured that much out in the time he'd known her. Buried deep beneath the surface was a person completely different from the one Helga portrayed and every once in a while, that person showed itself. You had to be vigilant to see it as its appearance was always fleeting. Arnold had seen that person come out and those brief glimpses showed him who he believed was the real Helga.
The real Helga was kind. She was sensitive. She was creative. She was loyal. She was caring. In short, the real Helga was good. Everyone else saw Helga has a bad girl, but Arnold knew that wasn't who she was at heart. She was a good person deep down. In fact, Arnold would venture to bet that in her heart of hearts, Helga was probably one of the most loving people he had ever met (and he had no idea just how right he was).
Because she kept her true self locked away most of the time, no one else knew that about her, except maybe Phoebe. Though he had to admit, Arnold felt a certain pride that he was the only one who knew the real Helga. If he could bring that other person out, the one that represented who Helga really was, their relationship would improve dramatically. Arnold just knew it. They could start over. They could finally be friends. And maybe moreā¦
