The Patakis

"The Dance"

XoXoXo

Dear Arnoldo,

Hey. It's Helga, writing to you from my boring-as-dirt history class. I really miss you, especially when there's all this romantic crap going on at school. The "Sweetheart's Dance" is coming up this Friday, and I have no one to go with, but that's okay. I never go to things like this, because you're not here. Not trying to make you feel guilty or anything, plenty of people don't have dates. Like my history teacher, . I'm sure he'll grow old with no one but Sprinkles, his fat tabby. Oh criminy, he's looking at me right now. Well, got to go!

From,

Helg-

"Ms. Pataki!" He yelled.

"Yes sirrrr?" I answered, stretching out the word "sir" to be mocking.

"Hand me that note."

"Pardon?" I blinked twice.

"The note."

I panicked, switching the letter with another near-by piece of paper. Ol' baldie would've freaked out if he read the part about his relationship status.

"I'm waiting."

"Here." I handed him the decoy.

He walked to the front of the class, and loudly cleared his throat. His adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Deep are the eyes of my true love," He read aloud.

Oh Lord. This is even worse than the letter, I thought. Why couldn't it be last night's math? I felt a blush emerge to my checks, but I fought it off with a scowl.

"So true, their hue, so ever bright," He paused to cough, "That I could drown in them. And I just might. But like the comet lost in flight, he's always here one day and gone by night. So gone he'll be, so far from me, it seems like an eternity. I'll weep and pine for love's not mine, the love that cannot be."

Rhonda and her herd of cows snickered and whispered to each other. She's been growing her hair out lately. I wished I could've ripped every strand from her scalp. It would make a nice rug.

"Very nice Ms. Pataki. Alas, this is not English class," Mr. Buchman chuckled.

Oh you think you're funny? You're , huh? Well you'll be laughing when a bottle of cleaning agent is in my hand and my fingers slip over your morning coffee… "Yes, ."

I caught Gerald's eye for a moment, but quickly looked away. He's been my only link to Arnold over the past few months, and I usually get my information through Phoebe. But still, the knowing look in his eyes was overtly obvious.

"I thought Arnold dumped her," Nadine whispered.

"I don't know," Sheena replied. "They've been back and forth so many times it's hard to keep track."

I put my head on my desk. "It was a mutual agreement," I muttered

XoXoXo

"Everyone's talking about your poem in History," Phoebe told me.

"I know," I growled.

"They think it's about Arnold."

"I know."

"Oh, and that you're not over him."

"I know."

"Rhonda's never going to let you live this one down."

"I know! Gosh, Phoebe, you're killing me."

Phoebe turned red. "Sorry."

"I mean, criminy! Everyone has a date to the Sweetheart's Dance but me, and it's all thanks to him! Even you have Gerald!"

Phoebe patted me on the back, full of empathy. But she had Gerald, and was in a stable relationship. Who did I have? No one, that's who. No one in the world loved Helga Pataki. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.

"I'm sure there's someone…"

That's when I heard a hideous breathing noise. I raised The Five Avengers, and turned around.

"No, wait Helga!"

I stop, shocked. It speaks?

"I'm sorry for always following you around and never saying anything. I'm just always so nervous when I see you. My mom's an alcoholic, so I never really learned how to interact with women. She loves her beer more than she loves me."

He could've just said "mom" and "alcoholic" and he still would've caught my attention. I felt my heart melt. I lowered The Five Avengers, and stared at Brainy in awe.

"Plus, my dad never pays any attention to me, so he doesn't exactly give me any pointers."

"Wow, Brainy. That's…a shame."

He ran his fingers through his hair. I shifted my weight from one foot to another. Phoebe walked away, leaving me with Brainy. I felt stranded on Loser Island.

"Yeah. It really is a shame, huh?"

"Yep."

"See you around, Helga."

He walked away, melancholy. I felt sympathy for the little twerp. For a second there, I almost felt a…bond with the little freak. An odd thought came into my head. I chased after him.

"Hey! Brainy!"

He turned around at the sound of his name. There was a hopeful glint in his eye.

"Y-Yes, H-Helga?"

I took a deep breath. "Want to go to the dance with me?"

From the look on his face, I thought he might've had a heart attack. "R-r-really?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, captain snail brain. This Friday. The dance. With me."

"I'm honored-"

"Oh, shut it brainy. It's not a big deal. We're no engaged."

"Okay, Helga."

I pulled out my favorite purple pen, the same one that I had used to write that dreaded poem that Mr. Buchman read. Arnold, my heart whined. I clicked it, half regretting asking him to the dance already. I sighed.

"Here's my number." I scribbled the digits on his left palm, which was sweaty.

"Thanks Helga…I've always wanted your number."

"Whatever. Call me."

I stormed off, playing the scene over in my head. I had just found out that Brainy's home life is just as screwed as mine, asked Brainy to the darn dance, and given him my number. Arnold was going to be super jealous. And I mean full-on green crazy mad romance novel worthy envy. I could've skipped down the hallway in bliss, until I saw Rhonda

"Helga, we need to talk."

Rhonda pointed her pastel pink claw at me while her goons surrounded me. Oh brother, I thought. Invasion of the Barbies.

"What, Princess?"

She paced around me in those ridiculous high heels of hers, rsembling a lion going for the kill. Rhonda, even in the 4th grade, was manipulative, self absorbed, and a gossip. She is about thousand times worse in high school. 4th grade Rhonda was just an argument, but 10th grade Rhonda is a full blown war.

"Helga, darling, enough with the childish names. We're 15." Yeah and your outfit suggests that you're 21 and in Vegas.

"What do you want?"

"I just heard about you and Brainy."

Duh. I forgot that dumb Rhonda stalks everyone's love lives. The fool.

"Oh. Yeah. Eh." I shrugged, blasé.

She circled around me again, Nadine giggling. "Just don't break the boy. He's had a crush on you since preschool, you know?"

"Whatever."

"You realize that Arnold must know about this, right?" She laughed.

"I don't care about Arnold," I lied.

"Then who was that poem about? The deep eyes?" Sheena asked.

Please, I prayed. Don't abandon me now, creativity. I need you to lie for me.

"Brainy. Duh." Someone should've beat me senseless.

Everyone stared. Even Gerald, who was around paused. He would probably blab every word to Arnold.

"So you're finally over Arnold, eh?" Rhonda mused.

I gulped. "Yep. I broke up with him, didn't I?"

Gerald shook his head and kept walking. I almost cried.

"Oh. Well. Good for you."

A smirk found its way onto my face. Sweet victory.

XoXoXo

Friday came much faster than I expected. I was in my room panicking. I really didn't want to go with Brainy, but I didn't want to crush the little guy. Plus, I needed Arnold to feel…longing. The same bitter longing that I feel ever day.

I opened my closet, browsing my options. I had never been to a dance before, so was completely clueless. Ugly turtleneck? No. Bear T-shirt? Ha, no. Tank top? No. Olga's polka-dot skirt? Nope. Yellow skinny jeans? Negative. I wanted to look nice, but not too nice. I didn't want to give Brainy any ideas. After all, this was a pity date. Finally, I found a decent dress.

It was a plain thing, not to flashy, elegant, or revealing. It went about an inch past my knee, had short sleeves and showed only my collarbones. There was a bow around the waist and the material was soft. Probably cotton. The entire dress was a shade of navy blue.

Finally, I moved on to the extra junk. I decided not to pluck my unibrow. It was a part of me. I couldn't bear to put on makeup either, that was something I only did for Arnold when we went to special events. I didn't even put on perfume.

But I did do my hair. I let my hair down. I set down my signature hat, the hat that Arnold had bought for me at a baseball game. I cut some fabric from the navy blue bow on the dress to make one that matched for my hair. I used it to make a high ponytail on my head. I jammed silver studs into my ears and "borrowed" Miriam's bracelet. Lastly, I shoved my feet into a pair of black converse. Phoebe had drawn a little dead stick figure on the toe of the right foot when we were in the 7th grade , but I could care less. I just wanted to get this over with.

I smeared chapstick on my lips. "Let's do this."

XoXoXo

"W-Wow. You look…wow," Brainy stumbled.

Brainy looked like he had seen the goddess Aphrodite. I looked around, just to check. Nope. No greek goddess escaped our history textbooks. Just plain ol' me in a plain ol' dress.

"Thanks," I replied. "You look okay yourself."

He was wearing a black sweater, with a lavender shirt underneath. I smelled the musky scent of cologne and hairspray. He just stared, and started breathing again.

"Brainy?"

He awoke from his trance. "Y-yeah?"

"You're doing it again."

"What?" He asked, defensive.

"That continuous breathing noise. It's kind of creepy."

"Sorry. I have kind of a cold, because my mom left the window open after one of her drinking episodes."

He sniffled, and adjusted his glasses. I stared at the doodle on my sneakers done in red ink. It seemed to wink at me, like an old friend.

"There's the love birds!"

Almost on reflex, I grabbed Brainy's hand. He blushed, and mumbled some nonsense. I had to make this look good, or Rhonda and her crew's taunts would haunt me till college.

"Hey Rhonda," I smiled.

She was wearing a skimpy red dress with five inch ivory heels. Harold had one hand on her hip and another in his pocket. Huh. I was surprised that Rhonda had forced the boy to comb his hair. I wondered what kind of mind tricks Rhonda used on him.

"I can't believe you two are finally a couple! You must be excited Brainy! What does it feel like, Brainy? To finally have the girl of your dreams?"

His eyes grew starry. "Heaven."

Harold chuckled. "You must have another girl then."

Rhonda playfully elbowed the chimp. "Bad Harold!"

Harold pulled Rhonda closer and planted a kiss on her heavily made-up face. I couldn't help but think that even though both of them are repulsive, they still make a wonderful couple. Perfect chemistry. The kind of couple they write books about.

"You two have fun!" Rhonda called out, being whisked away onto the dance floor by her oaf.

That gave me an idea. I smiled at Brainy, and pulled him closer. I planted a small peck on his forehead, which was easy to do since Brainy was one of the shorter guys and I'm a giantess. He made a small sigh of ecstasy.

"Dance with me?"

He nodded, awestruck. I pulled the sap onto the floor and dance with the sap for ten songs, until Rhonda made a request. A slow song plays on the speakers. I recognize it almost immediately. This isn't any love song. This was our song. Not Brainy and I. Arnold and I. We danced to this song so many times together when it first came out the summer of our 8th grade year. My favorite time was when we were in the meadow and we danced barefoot so the cool dew of the grass could tickle our toes and he kissed me under the willow… I couldn't dance with Brainy to this song.

Wait, no, it's a test. Everyone knew that this song was our song. I could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on Brainy and me, the unlikely couple. His hand glided toward my waist and I placed mine on his shoulder. I felt…trapped. We danced for what seemed like a century. Finally, the song was over.

I was broken. I ruined it. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.

"Hey Brainy, can you fetch me a glass of punch?"

He nodded, and pushed through the crowd to get to the punch bowl. I excused myself to the restroom, to quietly fall apart.

XoXoXo

"Wow, its pretty cold in here," I observed.

Our cheap principal sometimes shuts of the heater to save money, and everyone else was dancing to keep warm. Except for Brainy and me. We were done for the night, and were happily hanging out at the punch bowl. I imagined pouring the entire bowl on Rhonda's head in order to keep from dying of boredom and hypothermia.

"Here, babe."

He took off his sweater and handed it to me. I put it on. It was still warm. Yuck. Brainy-warmth.

"Thanks," I said, "and I'm not your babe, okay?"

"Yes Helga."

Apparently, Rhonda wasn't done torturing me yet. She strode over, date-free, to come and talk to brainy and me.

"Hey you two! I think you should go to the photo booth together! It would be very cute!"

"I really don't think that's-"

She half-dragged the two of us to the booth and stuffed us inside. I let Brainy keep almost all the silly photos. When we're all alone again, Brainy tucked one into his pocket.

"Perfect." He grinned.

I sighed, and rolled my eyes. "It's just a picture, Brainy."

"Sorry, Helga. It's just that I usually can't afford things like photos when my mom spends all our money on whiskey."

A little red flag went off in my head. "I thought you said your mom likes beer."

His eyes grew wide. "She likes both. Ever since my dad died-"

I cut him off. "You said your dad never payed any attention to you. Which is it?"

I had him cornered. "She, well, he is..."

I held up Ol' Betsy. "You better choose your words carefully. I want the truth."

He sighed, then adjusted his glasses. I tapped my foot, impatient. The dork had better spit out the truth before I had to knock it out of him. He opened his lying mouth to tell me his story.

"O-okay, Helga. You see...I lied about my dad. He really is dead. My mom doesn't drink, but she really is, er, depressed."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why'd you lie then?"

"I...I...I just wanted to be closer to you." His fingers went up to stroke my hair.

"Don't touch me!" I hissed.

"But-"

I punched him right in between the eyes, not caring who saw. I stormed off to the girls bathroom, and burst open the door. I took off my earrings and bracelet, and stuffed them in my pocket. I let my hair down from my too-tight ponytail and ruffled it. It felt so much better.

"Helga?"

I turned around, probably resembling a wild animal. "Oh. Hey Phoebs."

"You okay?" Phoebe asked.

I paused. "I guess."

"Gerald and I thought this dance was getting boring, so he headed home. Would you like to go sleepover?"

I nodded, tears threatning to spill over. I started shaking, either from exhaustion or emotion. A split second later, I fell to my knees. I let my sobs run freely.

"Helga? You sure you're okay"

Phoebe offered me her hand and pulled me up. I wiped my eyes.

"Yeah. Just allergies, geez Phoebe. Calm down." I needed a cover up, just in case someone like Nadine was in the bathroom.

"Forget this ever happened," I whispered.

She gave me a sad smile. "Forgeting."

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