The day was over, and the approaching sunset painted the abandoned playground with a soft red glow. Helga walked out of the school and into the brisk fall air as a resounding chorus of chirping cicadas filled the air. She held a shielding hand over her eyes to block the setting sun from blinding her, and the makeshift shade across her eyes brought Phoebe into focus as her friend stood at the front gates, staring at the ground.
Helga sluggishly plopped down each step and made her way over to the gates to head home. Phoebe looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching, and saw Helga's dejected looking face.
"Well?" Phoebe asked.
"After school janitor duties for two weeks."
"I see." Phoebe turned to walk alongside Helga, and left it at that. "How about a triple banana split?" Phoebe offered, hoping to see an ice cream slathered smile on her friend's face rather than such a dismal looking frown.
"Nah, I think I'll just head home and sit in my room," Helga replied with a sigh. She knew she wouldn't be punished, seeing has her parents would never care enough to find out about the fight in the first place. Phoebe stopped walking and watched Helga's back continue on away from her.
"O-okay, Helga. See you tomorrow." Helga stuck her hand in the air to say goodbye, but she never turned around. Phoebe turned and headed home, feeling a little more down herself.
Night passed, and the sun rose. New days always seem to have a little magic to them, because by the time Helga stretched and pulled herself out of bed the next morning, she was back in business.
"Move it buddy... Hey, watch out! Comin' through!" Helga said in her own gracefully gruff way as she shoved her way though the river of squirming kids in the outdoor school grounds. She reached Gerald and Arnold and shoved them apart as she walked into the school where everyone else was heading. The boys looked at each other.
"What a pain," Gerald said. Arnold agreed.
The class bell had yet to ring, so Helga lounged for a minute on Phoebe's desk.
"I'm glad you're feeling better, Helga," Phoebe said.
"Yeah, I guess I am," Helga replied, as if first becoming aware of Phoebe's observation. "I could do without the after-school duties, that's for sure." As Helga said that, she felt someone pass closely behind her. She turned around and saw Ian walking away. "Great," she muttered bitterly, having somehow forgotten the cause of such misery.
After watching him sit down in his seat, she slid off of Phoebe's desk, walked over to Ian and slammed her hands on his desk top with a rather impressive bang that resounded throughout the cold brick walls of the classroom.
"Listen, Bucko!" she threatened with the commanding authority that only Helga G. Pataki could dominate. "You get on one, tiny little nerve of mine today... and I knock all those pearly whites from your pretty little face. Capish?" Helga tauntingly waved her fist in front of his face as she leaned forward; Once Ol' Betsy and the Amazing Five reared their ugly head, any elementary school student was guaranteed to be sent running with their tail between their legs. Ian, however, was not only unmoved by Helga's notorious set of lungs, he was about as calm as a birdless, glassy, remote pond in the springtime... if you want to get poetic about it.
He put his hand on hers, slowly moved her fist aside and leaned forward as well, bringing their faces to an uncomfortably close proximity. There was a long pause, leaving Helga's perplexed expression in limbo for longer than she would have desired. Then finally...
"You think I'm pretty," he smirked. Helga's stare of disbelief stuck around for a little longer. Her senses, however, came back to her pretty sharply, because she snapped her fist and pushed him away in disgust.
"Just leave me alone!" she cried in exasperation, angrily retreating to her own seat. The classroom noise had already quieted from the attention to the scene between Ian and Helga, which gradually shifted back to Mr. Simmons as he started class.
Helga tapped her pencil nervously as she rested her chin against her hand and stared at her paper. She had to be careful not to go into any monologues about Arnold since she was under Ian's watchful eye. Every few minutes her eyes would dart to his direction. He'd be looking ahead, but look back at her in response to her stare. Then she would immediately look ahead. After a few more moments passed, she would once again look back to see if he was still staring at her, which he wasn't.
The routine continued all morning. Until lunch arrived.
In the lunch line, Phoebe followed behind Helga as the children lined up systematically to receive whatever unidentified slops awaited them.
"Is something the matter, Helga? You're still pretty quiet. Ever since... Ian arrived, I guess," Phoebe said, putting two and two together as she spoke. Helga didn't reply because she saw Ian walk up next to her to join them in line.
"Hey, Helga," he said casually. Helga stopped and looked at him. She had never realized that she wasn't used to people she didn't know well remembering her name, nonetheless saying it to her so suddenly. That pang of subconscious realization coupled with such a disgustingly lighthearted smile made Helga's blood boil. She looked ahead again and continued along the line, ignoring him. Phoebe walked along with Helga hesitantly, unsure of the interaction between the two.
Suddenly Helga stopped at the bread stand. She grabbed six rolls, piled them onto her tray and shoved it into Ian's hands, which instinctively responded to grab the incoming tray being thrust at him. He looked blankly at his new tray and Helga continued on. Ian followed. She stopped at the milk stand. She grabbed a few cartons and placed them on his tray too. Once again, Ian stared at his tray, and they continued. Helga stopped at the main course, which was steak. She took the plate of mysterious-looking slices from the lunch lady and plopped it onto Ian's tray. Phoebe saw what Helga was doing and tried not to smile as she watched. Next they stopped at the salad, then the dessert. And finally, they had reached the woman at the end of the line. She totaled up Phoebe's food and Phoebe paid. She totaled up Helga's, and Helga paid. Phoebe saw Helga leave without waiting for Ian, so she obediently left for their table too. Meanwhile, Ian stood in front of the woman, who was staring at his enormous mountain of food piled high. Neither person knew what to do.
When the girls sat down, Phoebe couldn't help but burst out in giggles.
"Helga, why..?" she began. But she watched Helga's emotionless face quietly sip the straw sticking out of her milk, looking as if nothing had happened. Phoebe stopped smiling and quietly ate her food, too, keeping her eyes diverted up towards her friend. Phoebe couldn't help but feel a little impressed at Helga's suddenly non-violent means to exhibiting her anger. The shadow hovering over Helga, however, was not so impressed.
"Helga," a familiar voice said. Helga looked up to see Arnold standing over her. She felt a bit uneasy at his face towering over her.
"What," she snapped, looking back to her milk.
"I saw what you did to Ian."
"So?"
"Helga, he just transferred to our school yesterday. You can't do stuff like that to new kids." Arnold spoke confidently, ready for an argument. "What did he do to YOU?"
Phoebe looked across the room at Ian, expecting him to be upset. That might have been why Arnold was defending him. But Ian was fine. He didn't have his tray, and he was sitting with Harold and the other guys acting as if nothing had happened. She could overhear him talking Harold into going on a diet. Harold grudgingly pushed his lunch over to Ian, who grinned childishly at his own success. He happily opened his new lunch. Phoebe smiled, admiring how cheerful he was.
She turned her attention back to her own lunch table. Arnold had an angry look on his face as he and Helga looked at each other. You wouldn't have believed a natural phenomenon was possible indoors until you saw the lightening bolts of hate zapping accusingly between each child's eyes.
"Just go away, you stupid football head," she growled. "It's none of your beeswax." Arnold sighed harshly and left, knowing any retort would be futile. Helga frowned as she looked down at her rather humble lunch. She rested her head against her hand and poked at her straw, eating no more than if she hadn't gotten a plate of food for herself, anyway.