Chapter Four: Fire Exchange and Mixed Signals

Helga couldn't wait for the stupid science lesson to finally be over. It was a boring subject, and one she usually didn't stay awake for most of the time. Right now though, she couldn't doze off like she might have on other days (she never worried about missing anything since Phoebe took really good notes) however she was too angry to feel sleepy, even with Mr. Simmons droning on and on about butterfly larvae, or moth cocoons, or some other "special" bug.

This is all Tall-Hair-Boys' fault! She thought with a scowl on her face directed towards the tall dark-skinned boy with the stack of black hair a few desks in front of and to the left of her. She watched him sitting there with a strange smile and a dopey look on his face. Helga didn't think much of it, since she never paid much attention to Gerald before.

Usually he was just Arnold's best friend and side-kick. Normally he never spoke up much when her and Arnold exchanged insults (more her than him most of the time). Any other time, Gerald would have just stayed out of the way, or at the very least send a scowl her way over her treatment of Arnold.

The memory of him getting in her face and then throwing that lime gelatin at her made her blood boil. Who the heck does he think he is anyway? She thought to herself, never once thinking about the fact that she'd shoved him before the gelatin incident. All she could think about was the fact that he dared to get in her face.

She tore another piece of paper from her notebook and began to roll it up, preparing yet another spitball.

Another of her favorite past-times when she was bored in class was to shoot spitballs at Arnold, just to get his attention. She would always secretly smile on the inside whenever he turned and looked at her all ticked off and annoyed. Even as she would always scowl back at him and pretend it didn't happen, she could always fight a grin at the way his face turned slightly red.

She put the paper into her mouth, using her tongue to roll it up and took out her trusty straw, preparing to fire. She raised the straw to her lips when Simmons turned back to the chart by the blackboard and fired. The wad of wet paper went sailing gracefully and hit its target—the back of Arnold's neck. Helga watched him flinch as the wet paper wad connected with a small splat and fell down the back of his plaid undershirt.

Score, Helga thought smiling to herself and quickly put away the straw. Arnold turned right on cue, giving her that annoyed look that she found all too cute. Helga frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" He just sighed and looked back at his desk.

Gerald turned back to look at her also, and gave her an annoyed look of his own. The only difference was that Helga not only didn't find that look cute, she was also angered slightly by the glare in his eyes that seemed to say: "You better stop it, Helga." She looked back at him with a matching glare and he turned away.

That's right, Gerald-o, you better turn around! She thought, still angry at Arnold's best friend. There was no way she was going to let him get away with what he did to her earlier. She then smirked as an idea for revenge suddenly came to her.

Reaching inside her desk, Helga pulled out a rubber band and a large paperclip. She looped the rubber band into the paperclip and secured it so that she could shoot it off her fingers easily. She then took aim at the back of Gerald's head.

Normally, she just turned such attentions to Arnold, but aside from spitballs and the occasional rubber band, or chewed off eraser, she never shot a paper clip at her beloved. Unlike the other things, a paperclip was dangerous and painful and could result in leaving a small wound.

In this case, however, that was indeed Helga's plan.

She fired a second later. The paperclip and rubber band flew across the distance perfect just as Gerald turned his head, and hit him behind his left earlobe. He let out a loud yelp and reached for his ear.

"Gerald? Is everything okay back there?" Mr. Simmons said, turning toward the boy and looking slightly concerned.

"Huh? Oh um, everything is fine, Mr. Simmons. I just . . . um, sort of banged my knee. That's all." Gerald said, still holding his ear and looking at the teacher. Around him, the rest of the class snickered. He turned and glared back at Helga, who just sat there, the poster child of innocence, smiling to herself.

Arnold looked over and whispered, "Is everything okay, Gerald?"

"Yeah, no problem," Gerald said grumpily and looked down at the top of his desk, where the paperclip and rubber band lay. He glared at it, and then looked back at Helga with a similar look.

Helga saw this and just stuck her tongue out at Gerald and turned away, ignoring him. She looked at the desk beside her, where Phoebe was giving her an annoyed look of her own and shaking her head sadly. Helga blinked; thinking to herself, I wonder what the heck is her problem is?

She just shrugged and looked back at her notebook, turning to a page where she was drawing a doodle of Arnold next to a heart with the letters: A + H in them. Helga smiled and took out a pencil, getting ready to continue drawing. Now that she got some measure of revenge against Gerald, she suddenly felt much better.

No sooner than she began drawing, something hard hit her forehead, almost on her left eye. "OWW! Criminy!" She yelled, standing up and rubbing just over her eyebrow.

"Helga? Is everything okay back there?" Mr. Simmons said, once again distracted from teaching the assignment. Helga noticed that everyone else was looking at her now . . . except for Gerald, that was.

Helga blinked and answered, "Oh, um yeah, I just . . . um, h-have to go to the bathroom. That's all." She heard the rest of the class giggle as they had at Gerald, and she could feel her face turn red from embarrassment.

"Oh, well, um, okay then," Mr. Simmons said.

As soon as the teacher turned back to his lesson chart, Helga looked down and saw what hit her lying on top of her desk. It was a tightly packed paper ball, which she unfolded to discover, to her surprise and outrage, a large rubber eraser inside.

That jerk! Helga thought, looking up at Gerald, who was shrugging at Arnold, who seemed to be giving him the same sort-of look that Phoebe had given her a moment ago. Glancing back at Helga, Gerald just raised an eyebrow, but the smirk was still plastered on his face.

She stood up and stomped out of the classroom, feeling the eyes of everyone in the class on the back of her head. The glare she sent them made a few of the closer ones hush instantly—at least as long as she was around that was. Helga gave Gerald once more angry look before she left the classroom and went to the bathroom, not that she needed to go, but just so she could be somewhere private to let out her frustrations.

Arnold looked back at his best friend after Helga left the room. He sighed and said, "You shouldn't have done that, Gerald."

"Are you kidding, man?" Gerald asked Arnold, looking at him with a justified expression on his face. "Did you see what she threw at me?" He held up the rubber band and the paper clip tied around it.

Arnold looked at it and blinked slightly. "She threw that at you?"

Gerald nodded and then said, "All I did was get her back, and what I threw wasn't as bad as this. I think she may have even scratched the skin."

Arnold just shook his head. "Still, what good does it do to try and one up her? It will only lead to more trouble."

"Whatever, man," Gerald said turning away and looking a little annoyed at Arnold. What is it with him anyhow? Why couldn't he just fight back and stand up for himself? The worst of it was that Helga's spitballs at Arnold and her little paper clip shot totally distracted him from his daydreams about kissing Phoebe on the lips.

He smiled to himself as he idly put the love note inside the front cover of his book. Why should he worry about a little daydream anyhow? In one more hour—mere school period away—all of his daydreams about kissing Phoebe would be a reality anyhow.

The bell rang a moment later, ending the period. Gerald stood up and said, "Hey man, I better get your history notebook before the tardy bell."

Arnold stood and shook his head, "No, its okay, Gerald, I can get it for you. I um, have to go do something anyhow." He looked a bit distracted as he said that.

Gerald raised an eyebrow at Arnold, but just shrugged, "No problem. Oh here, take my science book back while you're at it, if you don't mind? My locker combination is 18 - 29 - 04 remember?"

Arnold nodded and said, "Sure, no problem. I'll be right back." He left with both his and Gerald's books under his left arm.

After Arnold left the room, Gerald smiled and looked back at Phoebe, who sat at her desk looking over at Sheena, talking about something and laughing. She glanced over at Gerald who felt his heart flutter a moment and blew her a kiss right there in class. Phoebe blinked, seemingly surprised by Gerald's boldness, especially in front of nearly all their classmates. She just blushed a little and smiled. Gerald winked, sending her a little message: You got a date, Phoebe babe.

Phoebe's eyebrow raised an amused and slightly puzzled way, and then turned back to Sheena to resume their conversation. Gerald grinned, totally missing the puzzlement in Phoebe's expression. Wow, that girl is a good actor. I can't wait till later. He turned back facing his desk and smiled, feeling very cool right then.

Helga didn't go to the bathroom, but instead went to her locker and got her history book as something to do. On the way she spotted Chocolate Boy, who looked extremely disgruntled and kept muttering something about being cheated. He looked up seeing Helga, who glared at him and said, "What are you looking at, you little freak?!" Chocolate Boy quickly and nervously ran away past her.

Letting out her anger on someone else did very little to calm her after what Tall-Hair-Boy did to her. The only other time Helga ever remembered being so embarrassed in class was when Olga was student teacher and she told everyone about her little bed wetting problem when she was younger.

She slammed the locker so hard that the lock didn't have time to lock back before it bounced back and hit her right in the nose. She growled and pushed it close again, this time pinching one of her fingers in the door. She sucked on it trying to end the pain. Once again she blamed her ill fortune on Gerald, who she vowed would pay a terrible price for all of it.

Helga then walked back in the direction of the classroom, turning the corner and . . . .

Wham! She collided with someone coming the other way. Both her and the person she ran into fell backwards, their books flying out of their hands and landing all around them. Helga sat up, after landing on her back, getting ready to tell off the jerk that ran into her, until she saw who it was.

"Arnold!" She said in a whisper, looking at him in a loving way. Her anger momentarily forgotten—at least until Arnold sat up and looked at her. She blinked and shook her head, and then her scowl returned. "Why don't you watch where you're going, football-head? What a klutz, sheesh!"

"Oh um, sorry Helga," he said, standing up and then offering his hand to her. Helga normally would have swatted away any attempt at assistance from him before, but since her confession, she decided to accept, taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull her to her feet. She scowled and pulled his hand away all-too-quickly once she was upright again.

"What are you doing out here anyhow?" Helga asked, bending over and retrieving her books.

"Oh I came to return Gerald's science book to his locker for him," Arnold explained, retrieving the book in question, which lay open on the floor facing down.

At the mention of the name, Helga scowled deeper. "I don't want to talk about that moron."

"That moron, as you put it, happens to be my best friend, Helga," Arnold said, looking up at her and narrowing his eyes slightly now. "I don't agree with his actions, but I understand why he did them." As he said those words, he picked up a piece of folded paper that looked like it must have fallen out of one of Helga's books. He placed it in the front cover just as Helga spoke up again.

"All I know is if Tall-Hair-Boy ever gets in my face again, I'm going to jam my fist up one of his nostrils, you got it?" She then saw the book in Arnold's hand and snatched it away, "Give me that, hair-boy!"

Arnold blinked realizing just how angry Helga was now. Normally he never took any of her threats of violence too seriously, since most of them were directed at him. Now that he knew Helga's secret feelings for him, he knew she would never physically hurt him—or at least nothing violent anyhow. Anyone else who had the misfortune of making Helga G. Pataki mad however, well they better look out!

"Like I said Helga, I don't agree with Gerald's actions, but I do understand that the only reason he acted the way he did was because he saw you picking on me and Phoebe." He stood up and looked down at her. "Gerald is a good friend, and he doesn't usually act like he did, but to him you were going too far. I mean, think about it, what would you do if it had been me picking on Phoebe and Gerald?"

Helga snorted and said, "Yeah right, like you would ever do something like that, Arnold-o. You're too kind and noble and . . . and . . ." She paused there knowing how she sounded and seeing Arnold look at her and smiling a little. She blinked and shook her head, then quickly continued as she stood up. "Well, you're way too much of a pushover to do something like that."

Arnold could tell she simply added that last part to cover up her other feelings. A part of him was sort-of glad she did, since a small part of him still didn't know how to deal with them at the moment . . . but yet; another larger part of him was sort-of sad when she did, and a little disappointed. This part felt he had to say something.

"You know, Helga, Gerald asked me before why I never get back at you for anything. The names, the spitballs, the pranks. Do you know what I told him?" He saw her look at her uncertain now. He never brought up the specifics of her bullying to her before; they always just went on without a word. She just shook her head.

He continued, "I told Gerald that even though you don't show it, deep down you are a good person, underneath all the sarcastic talk and the threatening attitude. You're not always so tough-acting. In fact, sometimes when you show you're nicer side, well . . . I think that, um, it's sort-of, well, nice." Arnold felt his cheeks go a bit rosy even as he thought to himself how completely lame his last line was.

Helga, on the other hand, just blinked down at him and her own cheeks went slightly pink. "Arnold, that last line was completely lame, do you know that?" Then she actually smiled a little and added, "But well, um, thanks."

Realizing that things between them was getting a little too mushy though, Helga added, raising an eyebrow, "Well Gerald still got on my nerves and he better just stay the heck out of my way for awhile. Helga G. Pataki ain't anybody's pushover!"

Arnold sighed, sensing that the moment had passed and feeling a little sad that it did. Then he said to her, "Just try to understand why he did what he did, Helga. Gerald's an okay guy, and you two have never been very friendly to each other."

"What's your point, football-head?"

"My point is, instead of staying angry at him, you should try and figure out what you and Gerald have in common."

Helga let out another derisive snort. "Me and Gerald-o? What on earth do we possibly have in common, Arnold-o?"

Well both of you care about me and Phoebe more than you both let on, he thought to himself, but didn't say aloud now that there were more kids in the hallways. Instead he answered, "That is something the two of you need to learn on your own."

He looked down a moment and said, "We better hurry and get back to class. Last two periods are starting. Um, do you want to walk back with me, Helga?" Arnold didn't know if it was just his usual courtesy, or something else that made that last question come out of his mouth. The feeling of anticipation for the answer though was a new one.

Helga looked at him, also surprised by the question. She looked even more surprised by her own response, "Well, um, sure Arnold." Then she quickly added, "Whatever blows you're skirt up, football-head."

As they walked back to class together, Arnold felt like smiling when he responded, "It's my shirt, Helga. You know the one underneath my sweater. It's just the tails of my shirt."

"Oh yeah, sure Arnold," Helga said, offering an amused smile of her own. "It looks like a kilt, you know. I didn't know you were trying out for the Campfire Lads."

Shaking his head, Arnold just said, "I don't care much for Chocolate Turtles anymore."

They continued to tease each other with good humor the whole way back to class. When they got to the door, Arnold stood aside like a gentleman to let Helga in first. She didn't nod as she did so, but Arnold did smiled when he head her mutter a small, "Thanks."

Both of them went to their seats with smiles on their faces. Gerald only glanced over at Arnold a moment and offered a nod. He had a strange smile on his face and his eyes seemed to be out of focus. Arnold was too busy thinking about his latest encounter with Helga to care much about Gerald's own strange behavior.

Arnold glanced back at Helga, who was at the moment a little too busy setting her books down to notice his stare. He turned back around with a sigh, but he still couldn't help but think about how they'd both been talking and teasing one another on the way back to class. It was almost like the two of them had been . . . flirting. He quickly went back to his books and again felt his cheeks turn pink. He hoped nobody else noticed.

Helga also returned to her seat near the back and sat down; thinking about the things Arnold told her. Not about Gerald—as far as she was concerned, he was a jerk and that was that. She thought instead about Arnold's outgoing behavior toward her before, and how the two of them actually had a decent conversation, where Arnold actually gave her some compliments, including the cute—though still lame—"nice" compliment.

"Helga, you left the classroom rather abruptly, are you okay?" Phoebe asked, looking over at her from the next desk.

"Huh? Oh um, yeah I'm fine," Helga said, hoping to sound flippant about it. The answer seemed to satisfy Phoebe, who went back to her notes and preparations for the next class.

Helga opened her book, also getting ready, even though all she actually wanted to do was daydream about Arnold—which she was planning on doing all through class anyhow. Good thing that her best friend took really clear and specific notes.

It was when she glanced down at the book again that she noticed something sticking out of the back corner. It looked like a sheet of folded notebook paper. She frowned a little to herself, what the heck is this? She pulled it out and opened it up. Helga quickly read the note to herself. Dear Hot-lips . . . Wait? Hot-lips?! She blinked a little as she read on . . . little vision of hotness . . . RED HOT LIPS . . . her eyebrow disappeared into her hairline and her eyes widened at the words.

Helga read the last lines to herself under her breath, "I cannot bear to wait any longer to taste your awesome flavor. Meet me in the janitor's closet at the end of last period . . . you know, the one on the first floor the sixth graders call the "make-out closet." I'll be waiting for you, my sweet Baby cakes. – Love, Your One and Only."

Suddenly Helga felt as if her heart were beating a thousand times a second. It was all she could do not to pass out as she looked up at the back of Arnold's football-head and grin. He slipped this love note to me while he was picking up my books! He wants to meet me in the make-out closet and taste my lips—the ones he said he was dreaming of kissing! Oh my Arnold! My little football-headed vision of hotness! She swooned in her seat a moment, and then grinned to herself as she thought, Wow, who would have thought that the football-head would be that bold? You just never know about those shy ones.

Helga then crumpled up a ball of paper and threw it at the back of Arnold's head, almost knocking his small blue cap off. When he turned around, giving her that oh so cute look of annoyance, Helga just smiled and winked at him. Arnold actually blinked then and seemed to turn a bit red when he turned back around.

She smiled and chuckled a little under her breath. Just one more class period away from tasting the lips that haunts my girlish dreams!

A few tables away next to Arnold, Gerald was daydreaming about kissing Phoebe, the girl he'd been friends with and crushed on for so long. He glanced up at the clock. Just forty-five minutes till last period. Oh man, I can't wait. This is going to be so good.

Behind him, Helga thought, this is going to be so amazing!

I don't know how I'm going to be able to stand the waiting, Gerald thought, feeling as if the clock were going extra slow.

Criminy! Is that stupid clock broken, it can't have only been two minutes! Helga thought anxiously. Come on, hurry up you dumb clock!

Come on, hurry up you dumb clock! Gerald though, now feeling more anxious.

At the same time, unknown to the other, both of them thought the exact same words with smiles on their faces, this is going to be one experience I'm never going to forget!

To Be Continued . . . .