Author's note: Oh my good golly goodness! I actually managed to update within a week! This isn't like me! Don't expect this kind of frequency too often. But I'm having fun with this story and actually have some free time! We're still in common territory with this chapter, but oh well. I like it. M'kay… Enough jabbering! Onward with chapter two! Have fun!
Oh! And Hey Arnold was created by Craig Bartlett, owned by Viacom, Nickelodeon, and whoever. And the song "Thank You" belongs to Dido.
Chapter Two: That Tingly Feeling (Part 1)
Helga paused on the middle stairstep, hearing familiar singing coming from the kitchen.
"…I'm soaking through and through. Then you handed me a towel and all I see is you…."
She scratched at her head and stared down at her thick, crocheted puppy-dog bed-socks. She couldn't quite describe the feeling the song planted in her, but it certainly did hit close to home.
"Hey, mom. You're up early. It's five in the morning!" she shouted down to her mother.
"…because you're neeeaaaar me…. Hm? Oh! Hey, honey! Since you're such an early riser, I thought I'd start getting up earlier too; maybe try making breakfast every once in a while… You know, Mom Stuff."
Helga smirked. "Okay. I'm gonna get ready for school before we start the whole mother-daughter bonding… thing… for the morning. 'Kay?" She turned on her toes and hurried up the steps, returning to her room.
x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:
Her make-up collection was larger than she dared believe she'd ever need -- eyeshadow in fifteen colors, mascara and eyeliner that she never worn, and far too many tinted lip glosses and lipsticks. Despite her disdain for the heavily made-up look, her mother and sister absolutely loved buying the stuff for her. Her sister especially enjoyed using her as a sort of make-up guinea pig. Any product Olga was uncertain about would be first tested on Helga, since they shared similar facial features (save, of course for the unibrow that Helga stubbornly kept).
Helga brushed on some powder and swept a layer of sheer pink shadow over her eyes. The task complete, her eyes switched to the closet, a place that had been causing her great unease as of late. She had never been a child who feared the monsters that lurked in shadowy places… and she still wasn't, but the feeling remained. And though she wouldn't admit it, she moved towards said closet with great trepidation, and found herself unable to breathe with ease until the light had been flicked on and her outfit for the day tossed on her bed. Jeans and a pink t-shirt. Nothing fancy. And, naturally, the look with topped off with a pink bow, hidden underneath a faithful cabbie.
x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:
Once she was dressed, Helga went to the kitchen, where her mother was sitting with two stacks of slightly burnt-around-the-edges pancakes, dripping with a rather thin-looking syrup.
"It's all organic," stated Miriam with a hint of pride. "The syrup is pretty runny, but it tastes good, so I think we'll survive," she added. She smiled as Helga sat down, tapping her fingernails over the tabletop.
"So… mom… Dad's still asleep?"
"Yeah, you know it takes a lot to wake that man. We'll see if we can't get him to wake up with us someday, though." Miriam laughed cheerfully and jammed a mouthful of pancakes into her mouth. "An' 'ow are fings o'oing wiff ooo?" she asked before swallowing. "Ahem. Excuse me, darling. How are things going with you?"
Helga smiled, gesturing at the ceiling with her fork. "Pretty good. The C in math is a B now… well, almost… But it will be!" She waved up both hands defensively, accidentally flinging a piece of pancake across the room.
Miriam chuckled. "And the… watermelons, and gum… and footballs… in your closet? Still gone?"
Helga nearly choked on her pancakes. "Y-yes," she whispered.
"And you're sure about Alateen?"
"Yes." Her voice found its stability once more. "I saw a shrink until I was thirteen. I think I'm good." Much to her own surprise, there wasn't so much a hint of hostility in her voice. She was even smiling. "But, hey, how long are you gonna be on this hippie binge? It really didn't work out so well when Dad tried it!"
"We are trying to be a healthier, more spiritually aware family… and there will be no living in a hut this time."
"Sounds good to me," laughed Helga.
"Good."
Helga found herself laughing as she pushed her chair out and stood up. "I'm going for a walk before school." She stuck her plate in the sink and waved before disappearing out the door.
x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:
The eastern sky was completely overtaken with those poofy pink sunrise clouds. Helga would put those clouds in the same category as cotton candy—pretty to look at, but deadly in excess. But who was she to complain? The weather had been undeniably beautiful for the past few days.
After what Helga hoped was an hour's worth of walking, she switched courses and jogged towards the high school.
x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:
"Ohayo, Helga," piped a short Asian girl with choppy hair.
"Bon matin, Pheebs," replied Helga, in the only other language she even vaguely understood.
"Actually, Helga, the French don't say 'good morning'. 'Bonjour' would be a more typical greeting."
"Phoebe…Quit knowing things," said Helga, faking annoyance. A bit of regret hit when she spoke those words, however. Phoebe's grades had been slipping after all, even if only by a little. While she maintained her honor roll status, the girl's vast knowledge hadn't been coming as naturally as it once did.
"Quitting," smiled Phoebe, obviously not taking offense. "Oh, Did you happen to remember your excuse?"
"Excuse?"
"So you can continue to wear you hat in Mrs. Tullen's class."
"So I…." Helga's face fell. "Crap."
"Sorry, Helga. I should have thought to write you up a just-in-caser."
"Ugh…" They stopped in front of the English room. Helga put on her brave face and tried a laugh.
"Really, Helga… I don't think she'll do anything about it. Though she stresses the rules and wants respect, she admires you and your writing. She'll probably just remind you to bring your excuse next week."
Helga rocked back on her heels and finally walked through the door, with Phoebe close behind.
x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:
The entirety of English class had been just that—class. Mrs. Tullen's went on a passionate rant about Beowulf, something that not one person in the room had enjoyed reading. All knowledge of the epic had been tossed from Helga's memory within a week of the test on it, and Helga did not regret this at all.
But once Mrs. Tullens had finished her lesson for the day, she approached Helga's desk, frowning. "I assume you didn't bring your excuse."
"Come on, class is almost over. Does it really matter now?" Helga mentally smacked herself. She could have easily had time to fake an excuse while the teacher had been on her Beowulf-rant. But, chances were that she would have seen right through something written messily on notebook paper. Oh well.
"Helga, you really need to have an excuse. Please, just remove the hat for the remainder of the period."
"B-but… It's extremely contagious. I don't want to endanger my peers." She direly wished she wouldn't have stuttered on the first word. Stuttering showed weakness and people could sense weakness. Or was it fear? Or did that only work with dogs?
Suddenly, Helga found the world around her slowing down. Something terrible was about to happen; she could feel it. But her mind was working at the same pace as the slow-motion hand inching its way towards her head. If only she could think faster, surely she would be able to react fast enough to prevent whatever tragedy was about to befall her. That hand…. It was reaching for… For her head… For her…
And the world caught up with her, crashing down with a swooshing sound. "NO!" gasped Helga. But it was all too late; Mrs. Tullens had snatched the hat away and left a neatly tied pink bow for all to see.
There was no laughter, but rather cold smirks and harsh, whispery sounds. Laughter would have been better; Helga could have laughed too. At least that would have felt less awkward.
Mrs. Tullens simply dropped the hat on Helga's desk. Taking it from the girl had achieved its own special level of wrongness. Screaming a child's secrets to the world would probably occupy a similar level.
"So what?" hissed Helga, standing up and stomping to the front of the room. "It's a freaking ribbon, people! And if I want to tie a bow in my hair, like I've done since I was three years old, I'll damn well do it!" She stared each person down, careful not to be the first to drop her gaze (only Phoebe, who had smacked a snickering brown-haired boy, was spared the cold stare). Weakness and fear would not catch up with her again. No, Helga G. Pataki would not stand for people taking pity on her. She wouldn't pretend that she didn't notice the way they looked at her. There was absolutely no way that she would allow herself to sink in this mess.
And no one would ever be allowed to look down on her for caring about something… or someone.
x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:
The cabbie hat had been returned to its rightful place atop Helga's head. And people smiled awkwardly whenever she walked by. At one point, before math class, a certain wheezy boy had patted her shoulder. Helga had bitten down on her lip, spun around, and glared at him until he lost his nerve and walked off. She found this to be almost as effective as punching his lights out.
As Helga made her way through the commons, towards the cafeteria, she found her shoulder under attack once more. Someone had draped an arm around her in what she assumed was supposed to be a comforting gesture.
"Hey, what's the big idea, Princess?"
Rhonda laughed, amused at the use of the old nickname. "I heard about the little… snafu in English today. And I must tell you, Helga, there's no shame in the situation. Why, just the other week, I realized that my favorite top had a rip all down the sleeve. I had been wearing it all day!"
"Is this supposed to make me feel better or something? Besides… It's no big deal. Take your sympathy to someone who needs it."
"Oh, Helga, Helga, Helga. I know you still miss him, but a bow is such a symbolic thing. And I'm sure it's ratty by now. You shouldn't need—…"
Helga zoned out then. 'I know you still miss him'? How did that uppity rich girl know about what the bow represented? Phoebe knew, as did Miriam, but neither of them would share such a personal detail. Ever. So… How did Rhonda acquire this important bit of information? That wheezy guy! Brainy… Helga's eyebrow rose. What was that boy's real name anyway? Something with a J…? Jacob, Jeffery…. No. Neither of those was right. Brainy… What sounded like a name that would go along with Brainy? Alfred? Samuel? Nathaniel? Ugh! No! She had to know his name, right? She'd known the guy since pre-school!
Five long, meticulously manicured nails digging into her shoulder brought Helga out of her run-away thoughts. "Ow… Wha…?"
They had reached the cafeteria, and Rhonda's eyes were locked on the center of a small crowd near the end of the room. There, stood the one boy who could always stop Helga in her tracks and fill her with an unparalleled warmth. He had gained a deep tan and was in desperate need of a haircut, but most of all, he was Arnold.
Helga tried to pull away from the brunette, but those nails remained stuck in her shoulder. "Hey… Let go," she said breathily. She elbowed the other girl's arm sharply, finally dislodging the grasp.
She broke through the already growing crowd of once-upon-a-time PS 118 students that had begun to circle around the boy. He caught her gaze in an instant, that familiar smile glowing just for her. Staring up at him, she realized just how vivid his eyes were. There was absolutely no way that any other human being could have eyes that were so… enticingly electric. They drew her in.
And before Helga knew what she was doing, before she could stop herself, before she could even care that all the eyes of the room were upon her, she had thrown her arms around Arnold and pressed her lips against his.
Note ctnd: Whaaa? A/H-ness already! Yup! xD But how, oh how can the story continue from here? Hm… some obligatory fluff, and then you'll see. (Heh… Mhm.) And "Part 2" of this chapter won't be until chapter 6 or 7. I feel I should mention that for some reason (shrug).
