Phoebe

"And you agreed to this buffoonery?"

I nodded, still watching Helga stomp angrily around her room as I snacked on a few cucumber sandwiches her mother had made for us. If I was not mistaken, there was a hint of liquor mixed in with the strawberry yogurt. "Is that…wrong of me, Helga? I did give him the option of choosing."

"Choosing, Phoebes? Choosing to sleep around with that large-breasted bimbo, Ariel isn't exactly ,screaming 'I'm taken'." She huffed, folding her arms. She remained pacing and was beginning to ruin her carpet. The Pataki's recently had expensive new carpet installed in all of the rooms but Helga's; she received the low-budget, poor quality carpet from a discount dealer in the rough part of town that could easily be ruined in less than a year. Though the color was a very vibrant and eye-catching coral, it was already starting to falter; Helga's pacing not helping in the slightest.

"Um, Helga, your carpet is beginning to…"

"Who cares about this lousy carpet, Phoebes!" She stopped pacing and lunged towards me, startling me. I held the cucumber sandwich I had in my mouth with a tight grip. "You are setting yourself up for heartbreak, for pete sake! Crimeny!"

"Helga…"

"That cheap, skunk bag needs to pay; starting with tonight at Rhonda Wellington-Lloyds little soirée." Helga cackled, scaring me. She disappeared into her closet and began muttering more obscenities. I began to grow nervous. Whenever Helga had some devious plan up her sleeve, it always ended horribly. Last time she called me at four in the morning to bail her out of jail for breaking and entering into some poor girl's home because she had 'kissed' Arnold during a school play and was 'way too into it'. I called Arnold and he and I both rode with Gerald to the station to pay Helga's fees and get her home before her father found out. "What a doofus, what an imbecile, such a misogynistic weasel I'd like to pumble with ol' Betsey!"

"Um…Helga?" I whispered. She screamed.

"What!?"

"Gerald is still my boyfriend so I would gladly appreciate it if you could not talk about him in such a manner."

She flipped me the bird and kept digging in her closet for whatever it was she was looking for. I sighed and continued eating the delicious cucumber sandwiches Mrs. Pataki had prepared. I reached for my glass of water to wash them down and saw Helga beginning to strip down to her undergarments. I looked away, coughing. "Helga, do you need me to step out while you change clothes?"

"Phoebes, we been best friends forever." She unzipped her blue jeans and shed herself of her pink and yellow sweater, letting them pool to a puddle of fabric at her feet before she violently kicked them into a nearby corner. "I am sure we are at the stage of our friendship where we can see each other's junk."

She took out this very cute- yet provocative- asymmetrical black dress. It was one sleeved, very form-fitting, and had a deep V-neck plunge with a sheer, metallic material that covered the gap. She threw the metal hanger somewhere across the room and struggled in putting on the dress. She hopped over to ask me to help her zip it and after about five minutes of pulling, stretching, and oiling the zipper with body oil, Helga was in her little number for Rhonda's party. Though it was much too revealing for my taste, I had to admit Helga looked stunning. It sat just below her butt, hugged her flawless, toned body in every angle, and made her B-cups look two sizes bigger.

"Wow, Helga, you look…amazing."

"You better know it, Phoebes." She sashayed over to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her closet door and stroke a few poses. She had undone the messy ponytail she wore all day and allowed her hair to cascade down her back for good measure. With a little red lipstick, some heels, and some eye-shadow, Helga would have resembled a movie star. "I look damn good."

"Where did you get the dress, Helga? I do not remember us going out and buying it."

"An aunt who I forget her name gave it to me for Christmas on year. She is a crack addict whore so it explains why the dress is so slutty. What a skeezeball."

I sighed. "Why are you wearing it? You aren't really going to wear that dress to Rhonda's party are you?"

"You're damn right I am, Phoebes and you are wearing something similar." Helga devilishly grinned, pulling out a T-backed red dress with a similar sheer V-neck from her closet. I nearly went into shock. Not only would that dress barely cover my backside, it would expose my breasts! "Helga!"

"Phoebes, this is operation 'Get your man back'."

I slowly began to choke on the remnants of my sandwich. I knew Helga was up to no good when she pulled that damn dress out from the back of her closet. Only creepy, voodoo, witch craft items are back there. If I am not mistaken, I caught a glimpse of a shrine of Arnold's head a few years back but I am hoping that was simply my imagination. I knew I was one of the very few people who knew about Helga's love and…unhealthy obsession over him, but I did not think Helga would take it upon herself to actually worship a mashed potato model of Arnold's oddly shaped head. "Helga, I am not wearing that to Rhonda's party."

"Oh?" she folded her arms, raising a single brow at me in question. "What did you have in mind?"

I looked down at my outfit and back at Helga. "This, of course." I figured my jean shorts with lace stockings and a collared sweater was really cute. I made it a point to remain up to date on the latest fashion trends by subscribing to various issues of teen magazines. Lace was in for the fall as well as thigh-high socks. Gerald was always current and in style; best-dressed in every single one of our classes so I wanted to look the part as well. He switched his moniker red jerseys and sneakers for Blazers, buttons ups, Polo shirts, and leather boat shoes. Since Gerald had a steady job and made his own money, he did not have to rely on his parents' income to support himself or his matured fashion sense. If he was not spending money on the endless array of books from the bookstore that made me happy, he was out at the mall buying name-brand shirts, slacks, cologne, and shoes. Occasionally he would switch back to his signature look- sporting a red hooded sweatshirt or red long-sleeve polo with jeans and some classic Adidas hi-tops- but mostly took pleasure in evolving himself into his own man. Daily, Gerald would resemble one of those GQ models and have almost every female christening their panties with a simple smile. His hair was cut much shorter into a framed, coily fro rather than that atrocity he sported during grade school that made him look straight from the '80's, the facial hair he earned during his pubescent period was shaped finely into a goatee and thin beard, and he discovered the gym and athletics. He and Arnold had matured greatly over the past few years; no longer skinny, immature little boys. No, they were slowly shaping themselves into dapper young men and their growing pockets along with a heightened image of self-perception only furthered their conquest.

I even became somewhat jealous when I noticed other women taking pleasure in watching Gerald prance around like a famed, prized horse. Gerald was always a tad arrogant, the growing attention from the female population only making him even more self-absorbed and egotistic. With him being one of the only African-Americans at our high-school, he was certainly becoming even more of an anomaly with his growing good looks, charm, and increased popularity. Every woman suddenly wanted him, practically throwing themselves and their bodies at Gerald in which direction. Although Gerald was completely committed and faithful to me and our relationship, he did relish in the newfound glory of women. It angered me to an extent but I sat on the sidelines and never muttered a word. I never do…

"Pfft!" I watched helplessly as Helga chucked the rather inappropriate dress in my direction, letting the surprisingly harsh textured piece of fabric she called an outfit hit me in the face. I held it up and took a good look at it. It was really cute but far too…sexy. It would hug my hour glass figure and barely cover my rear. To make it worse, seeing as how my busts are much bigger than Helga's, the sheer part that would expose everything but my nipples would make them stand out even further. It was hard enough buying shirts that did not hug my chest like a fitted glove; the last thing I needed was a dress that did the exact thing I wanted to avoid. "You are wearing it!" she commanded, throwing a pair red of sky-high pumps my way. I dodged them by a second; afraid they were going to hit me in the eye. Helga had terrible aim and it often baffled me how she made it on the softball team last year.

"Helga, you have been terribly mistaken." I set the dress down neatly upon her bed. "I am not stepping foot outside looking like a street walker."

"So you are gonna just lay down and take that man stealing tramp destroying four years of your life together with Gerald?"

"N-N-No, I was not saying that I was simply saying…"

"Phoebes" she interrupted. "I am going to tell you this because you are my best friend. You are too goddamn nice!"

My eyes widened. "E-Excuse me?"

"You are much too nice. You are allowing your boyfriend to belittle yourself into entering an open relationship while some African whore prances all over you. You look like a moron, Phoebes."

I had to be honest with myself; Helga's words cut deep. I knew I was an enabler of undesirable behavior and a bit of a pushover, but I thought that was only with Helga. Helga has been my best friend since we were toddlers. I never had many friends growing up and the few I did have used me for their own personal entertainment. Helga was the one who stood up for me, punching girls in the eyes for making fun of my thick glasses and shoving boy's faces in the sandbox for throwing crayons at me. She told them to leave me alone and that they did. I immediately latched onto Helga and felt the need to help her in any way I could since she helped me. It was not to have a personal bodyguard, though it did have that direct benefit, but because I finally had a real friend. I did not see it as an obligation or tit-for-tat, but because I genuinely wanted to. I admit, over the years Helga had abused that privilege unknowingly one too many times for my pleasure, but it was never spiteful or malicious. Helga was just a very commanding, controlling, bossy person and as her friend I had to accept her with all her faults. I know Helga does not do things purposely, me breaking my leg in fourth grade and having her become my personal assistant for a few weeks showed how much Helga actually does care for me and would go above and beyond for our friendship; but since then, the roles have remained the same. I don't necessarily mind being Helga's unpaid 'lackey', but I did not realize I was like this with everyone…even Gerald. I never was one to get into conflict and I hated confrontation. I would often get anxiety attacks and start to sweat profusely. I just saw myself as more of a pacifist than a complete doormat.

"Really, Helga?" My voice was low, almost inaudible. "Am I really as pathetic as you say I am?"

"Yes, Phoebes. You are a complete doormat, pushover, lap dog, a run-of-the-mill Jeeves that does everything for everyone but herself." I felt Helga's hand touch my shoulder. "You are my friend Phoebes and yeah…maybe I have contributed to this behavior a few times by abusing your kindness but goddammit I can do that, Gerald can't!"

I gave a soft laugh, looking at the frustrated Helga. Though Helga was certainly a lot of things, she sure was a great friend to have. If she would only show this side to everyone else and not threaten to do bodily harm, Helga would have more friends to call on to bail her out of jail at four in the morning than just me. "Helga, I don't mind."

She growled and started her pacing again, this time with much more fury. "You are lying. I know it gets to you. C'mon, you mean to tell me that you are dandy as a wallflower watching your boyfriend canoodle with some African skank while you sip on some watered down punch?"

"Well…"

"The answer is 'NO', Phoebe, No!" she yelled, answering for me. I grew quiet and began thinking. Maybe Helga did have a point. Gerald and I have invested four years of our lives together into our relationship. Was he really willing to throw it all away for a girl he met recently? "Dammit, Phoebe, get mad."

"Mad?"

"Yes, get MAD!"

"But, I'm not…"

"I know you aren't mad, Phoebe but I need for you to get mad." Helga halted her pacing and stood in the middle of the floor, glaring at me like a carnivorous lioness about to maul a baby gazelle. I looked around the room nervously. "I'm mad for you!"

"But you are always angry, Helga."

She rolled her eyes, ignoring me. "If Arnold dared to pull the same stunt Gerald is pulling on you, he would be six feet underground with the rest of 'um."

"But Helga…"

She interrupted again. "Get mad, Phoebe!"

"Helga…"

"Get mad!"

"But Helga…"

"Get ma-"

"Helga!" I screamed, fed up with her not allowing me to finish a single sentence. I took in short, shallow breaths, my heart beginning to race. I rarely ever screamed, especially at Helga. I watched her smirk in satisfaction in getting me worked up. Helga was one of the very few people that knew what buttons to push. She knew I absolutely hated being cut off during a conversation. "Jeez, can I talk now please?"

She shrugged, plopping into one of the multi-colored beanbag chairs she had nestled near her door. Her mother have given them to her as a birthday gift two years ago because they ran out of money from spending their savings on Olga's shindig in Spain. Turns out they were a donation from some hippie client Mr. Pataki had that signed some of his property off as collateral for any debts he may have had with the cellphone company. "No one is stopping you, Phoebes." She paused to reach for her backpack and took out a forgotten apple, taking a rather large disgusting bite "For the record, that's what I wanted to see." There was a small glimpse of repugnance.

"Helga." I composed myself, lowering my voice. "I am not like you. I cannot simply get…angry over trivial things. I know this sounds crazy but if Gerald loves me like he says he does, then…it should not matter what he does with or without Ariel because he will come back to me, right?"

I watched Helga eye me skeptically before shaking her head in disappointment, taking another bite of that unwashed, disgusting apple. "Why are you asking me? You need to answer that question for yourself, Phoebe. If you are genuinely alright in risking going to Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd's fancy party and watching your boyfriend tongue down another woman then I won't press the issue."

"Rhonda invited the entire school so I know she will be there but I doubt they are going…together." I said the last work in a hushed whisper, Helga shaking her head. She bit into her apple one last time before tossing it in the trash bin. "I'm sure of it…"

"Well, you don't sound too certain to me Phoebes." Helga rose to her feet, dusting off the tight-fitting dress and pulling her underwear out of her butt. Helga hated wearing panties but I was the one who persuaded her to keep all of her garments on to avoid another yeast infection. "Look, I'm going to go get ready for Rhonda's party. The dress is there for you to wear if you want."

I watched Helga head down the hall and heard the harsh slam of the bathroom door; Mr. Pataki screaming up the stairs from the foyer to not slam anymore doors around his house, Helga screaming vulgarities. I sat in silence for a while, glancing back and forth at the dress. I knew Helga was right; I was subjecting myself to heartache. Gerald was always known to be a ladies man. Even before he and I made it official that we were going to remain exclusive to each other, he had a few women lined up to preoccupy his time with. I had the biggest crush on him during grade school and always figured myself to be unworthy of someone so…cool. I was quiet, soft-spoken, and a book work that had the audacity to fall for a smooth, suave, confident popular kid like Gerald. I had a few boys take interest in me over the years, but my heart was always set on Gerald Martin Johanssen.

He was everything I had wished I could be and more; even going as far as saying I wanted to be more bronzed. Every summer I would get severe sunburns that would leave me in the house for days, even with high SPF sunscreen. Gerald could frolic and play in the gorgeous light without any penalty. As someone who could become pale as virgin snow, I envied that ability. Gerald was everything I wanted in a man. He was strong, courageous, respectful, well-mannered, funny, sweet, kind, out-spoken, and the list goes on for miles. I always thought I would look at him from afar and admire his beauty silently. Helga knew I had a crush on Gerald but it always went unspoken; similar to my knowledge on her obsession of Arnold. The afternoon of June 3rd in seventh grade was when Gerald had approached me and asked me to the last dance of the school year that we began our tragic Greek romance. We grew closer as acquaintances, then as friends, then, finally, lovers. We mutually understood a relationship between the two of us would not be easy, but it would be well worth the sacrifices. Gerald and I had more than history together; we have love and the unbreakable bond of everlasting friendship. Kami forbid Gerald and I decide to go our separate ways, but it was understood we would always remain friends. Though I could never see Gerald in the platonic light of friendship after everything that was shared between us; the love, the passion, the secrets, the tears, the sex, I vowed I would always remain a part of Gerald's heart…even if that meant being a friend. Gerald Martin Johanssen was, is, destined to be my soul mate and as someone that is heavily involved in the art of spirituality, I believe you only find true love once in a life time. Taking one last glance at the dress, I cursed silently before standing to shed my clothes. I was not going to let this woman take the man I am supposed to live my life with; so she could put that in her pipe and smoke it!

Helga and I arrived the Rhonda's party fashionably late and were the last to arrive. We would have made it on time but Helga had a hard time taking my advice on switching her cotton bloomers with a lacy G-string to avoid the showing of a panty line. With the type of dresses we wore, the exposure of even the slightest flaw would be magnified by ten. Rhonda greeted us with warm smiles until the smile morphed into a dumbstruck, floored sneer. She fumed with jealousy as Helga and I walked into her father's mansion in our outfits, heels clacking patiently amongst the marbleized floor of her foyer. She took one look at Helga and I and gave a snide remark about how we looked like hookers, but the expensive kind- escorts I believe was the term she used. She was more surprised at me than Helga and gave me the look-around like a great white circling its bleeding prey. I wore the red dress Helga had given me and the red pumps, exchanged my rectangular glasses for my contacts, and had my usually straight, shoulder-length locks in a bed of waterfall curls. I didn't care for as much makeup as Helga donned, but I did put a little eye-liner on my lower lid, some blush, and a heavy coat of lustrous, red lipstick for dramatic effect. The second person to see us was Lila, then Sheena, then Nadine. Mouths were agape for a few good moments until Helga shoved past them; telling them to close their mouths before bugs fly in.

No one expected tomboy Helga to wear such a provocative little number, but it was never doubtful that she would ever. Me, however, no one, and I mean no one, would have imagined the day Phoebe Heyerdahl retired her glasses and cardigan sweaters for a dress; let alone one that left very little to the imagination. I followed Helga into the living room where the party was in full swing. Our entire school was at the Wellington-Lloyd's and everyone seemed to notice when Helga and I arrived. Helga basked in the newfound attention the men of our school was giving her; a few even going as far as to caress Helga's backside or try and pull her in for a dance. Girls that once ignored Helga and I were suddenly surveying the two of us like hungry vultures in search of their next meal; guys earning erections as we walked through the sea of hormonal teenagers into the mist of the biggest opening bash of the school year. I dottily followed behind Helga until we were approaching where Arnold, Gerald, Stinky, Sid, Harold, and a few other of the guys were posted. They were too busy conversing with each other to notice the attention Helga and I was getting, let alone that we arrived. I felt Helga reach behind her to grab my shaky hand, holding it firmly as we approached Arnold and Gerald. She gave it a firm squeeze, comforting me in a last effort to prepare in seeing him for the first time since he and I 'opened' our relationship three days before.

"Wilikers, Helga G. Pataki, is that you?"

Eyes were now glued on Helga as I watched mouths slowly fall open. I could feel Helga's mischievous grin in front of me as I tried my best to keep myself from shaking. "Hey boys, I was just about to grab some punch from the kitchen." She stopped in front of the crew and gave them a full display of her dress, turning for added effect. "You know; that large room next to this lovely wall you were molesting?"

"Gosh Helga, you look stunning!" Eugene complimented. Helga smiled.

"Yeah, Helga, I never seen you look so…sexy."

"Yeah, I have to agree with Sid on that one, Helga."

Helga flipped back a wave of her hair, thoroughly enjoying the attention she was getting. I think she craved it. "Thanks pink boy."

"Now, Now, Now…" Arnold interrupted, snaking his hand around Helga's slender frame. He planted a small kiss on her cheek. "This is still my girlfriend you all are gazing over."

"Oh, Arnold." She kissed him gently on the lips. "Well, if they can't fawn over me then my best friend, Phoebe will be their eye-candy."

Before I could even register what had happened in between the thirty seconds Helga was being dotted over to the point where Arnold turned into the green-eyed monster, Helga had turned around and pulled me in front of her to be center stage. I could feel my knees quiver as my mouth suddenly turned dry at the sight of Gerald. His mouth parted slightly as his eyes widened at the view of me in my dress. I wanted to speak but my nerves had me tongue tied. I looked to Helga for backup and she nodded.

"Gee Wiz, Phoebe!"

"Phoebe, red is most certainly your color."

"Wilikers! Phoebe, I reckon you are the bell of the ball at this party. You and Helga sure know how to make an entrance."

"Damn, Phoebes, you look like a sexy Asian housewife." Sid gave out a wolf-whistle, slowly beginning to seductively lick his lips as he crept up towards me. "I'd like to take you home and…"

"Do what?!" Gerald growled, snatching Sid up by his collar and bringing him close to his face. I watched in terror as Sid began mumbling some sort of apology to Gerald before he was roughly let go.

Helga grabbed my hand. "Why are you getting so defensive, hair boy? Phoebe is single last I checked."

Gerald narrowly eyed Helga, shaking off Harold and Stinky who tried to calm him from the incident with Sid. My heart began to pound louder in my ears. This could not have been happening. "She is not single, Helga" he turned to face Arnold. "Man, tell your girl to mind her goddamn business."

Before Arnold had a chance to say anything, Helga stepped up to Gerald. "Phoebe is my business you dunce, so if her relationship with you is a part of her, then it is my business." She rolled her eyes and began pulling me to the kitchen. "Oh, by the way, seeing as you wanted to see what it was like to be with your precious African mermaid Ariel, Phoebe is free to gallivant and prance all over any man she wants!"

"She wouldn't dare…"

"Try her! Bet you by the end of the night she would have raised a couple of flag poles if you know what I mean."

That outburst earned us quite a few looks and remarks before Helga and I disappeared into the kitchen. I had no time to register what had happened. I did not even get a word in. I just stood over the punch bowl and stared at the watered down pool of red. The strong scent of liquor and strawberry bombarded my senses and made me come down with a sudden migraine. I could not believe I listened to Helga G. Pataki and wore this dress! This would have been avoided if I just kept on my sweater!

"Did you see their faces?" Helga laughed, grabbing a Dixie cup and ladling her some punch, adding a splash of cherry flavored vodka. She took a sip. "Gerald was fuming! HA!"

"Maybe this was not such a good idea, Helga." My voice cracked. I could feel hot tears begin to stream down my face. I did not like this; I did not like this one bit. I hated fighting. I hated fighting with Gerald. "I never should have worn this dress!"

Helga set her cup down, beginning to shake me. "Listen to yourself, Phoebes. Get a grip!"

"But Helga, I feel naked and every man in here is staring at us." I turned away to wipe a stray tear. "Gerald hates that I look like this, I just know it."

"Good! Let him think of that at night instead of that African princess." Helga snatched up her drink and took a long sip. "Besides, he deserved it."

"But Helga…"

"Not another word!" she snapped, earning spare glances from the few patrons that were in the kitchen with us. She cursed them and made them flee before they had a chance to grab what they came in for. "Phoebe, to hell with that dweeb. He wants to see how life would be with Ariel; well you go and see how life would be with your own prince charming."

Before I could object, Helga had pushed me into the most gorgeous Asian man I have ever seen. I accidentally spilt his cup of punch on his white blazer and immediately began apologizing. I wanted to scold Helga for being such a…bitch but she was already gyrating her hips against Arnold's crotch in the middle of the dance floor before I had that opportunity. The beautiful Asian man insisted it was not a problem and told me I didn't have to help clean him off. I took a few extra napkins from the dispenser atop of the island and began to pat him dry. I began to say something but he took a small step back and slipped on the small puddle of punch that fell from his cup when I had accidentally collided into him. He landed on his back and I landed on top of him. Neither of us spoke. He had the most gorgeous green eyes I have ever laid eyes on; resembling majestic green jade in the forbidden Aztec ruins of Mexico. His hair was cut short, dark as the kiss of night, and spiked up slightly. His skin was smooth, almost flawless as his teeth were the perfect shade of illuminant white. I looked down and saw beneath his stained blazer he wore a black button up with three of the top buttons undone, exposing a white V-neck undershirt, and white khakis. I noticed the single gold chain he wore was snagged in a few strands of my hair. My face felt hot as he leaned in closer, smiling softly.

"Kato."

"P-Phoebe." I managed to mouth out.

"Gerald."

Kato and I looked up and saw an angry and confused Gerald looming over us with his arms folded stuffily across his chest. I silently swore under my breath as I tried to untangle his chain from my hair. I watched as Kato rose to his feet, extending a hand to help me. I brushed off my dress and pulled it down to cover myself and the thong I did not know was showing. Between us, it was an accident. To all other onlookers, including Gerald, it looked like an intimate scene from an Adult movie. Kato tried to extend a hand to Gerald but he was not fazed by pleasantries. Instead, Kato briskly grabbed himself another cup of punch and left the kitchen, but not before stopping in the doorway and gazing.

"It was nice to meet you…Phoebe."

I blushed and nodded, watching him disappear into the party. I tried to look at Gerald but could not muster the strength. Instead I thought of taking Helga's advice and leaving him in my wake. I decided to take a random cup of punch from the countertop and began to walk away. I didn't make it very far before I felt Gerald snatch me up by my waist and carry me up the stairs of Rhonda's estate to the third floor, kicking open the door of a vacant bedroom. Gerald flung me across the bed and locked the door. The cup of punch I had was now sprawled against one of the guestroom- rather expensive looking- comforters that were folded neatly at the foot of the bed. I grew irate and started screaming in Japanese before Gerald kissed me. He had pinned me against the bed, pulled up my dress to my waist, and ripped off my thin piece of underwear. I began to kick him and tried to punch him, tears rolling down my face. The kiss deepened and instead of fighting like my mind had told me, my heart allowed me to give in. My punches weakened as my kicking simmered; somehow my arms becoming wrapped around Gerald's neck as he slowly began to trail sweet nips from my neck downward until his kiss was nestled in between the valley of my thighs.

A/N: I know I said I was not going to update for about a week and that is still holding true; HOWEVER, My laptop has a BADASS virus and seeing as how all my documents will need to be erased by Office Depot in order to save my baby, I am uploading this now so I won't have to rewrite later. Best believe, it this was erased, I would have been as pissed as Gerald watching Phoebe with another man…only in female version. Well, Toodles lovely. Until next week. SN: Send blessings to my computer. She needs it