Whiskers

Chapter 04


Throwing the cell phone into her purse, Helga was eager to bolt from the store before seven o'clock hit. For her to be able to get off early on a Friday was nothing short of a miracle (and an utter sin according to Bob). Mrs. Short had promised to make cinnamon rolls and if she wasn't there as soon as they came out of the oven and glazed, chances were she wasn't going to get any.

That was just not an option in Helga's book.

Shoving her purse into her backpack before she slung it on her shoulders, Helga started to walk through the store to the front door. Mark and DeWayne, the other supervisors, were on the clock and could tackle anything for which an employee might stop her.

When she spotted a familiar ponytail stocking car radios, she paused.

There was still one thing she needed to do.

It wasn't like she wanted to do this. No way. She was more than happy to let the carefully worded statement linger in the limbo of the misunderstood and act like a brick wall between the couple for as long as it would stand. However, something in her heart wouldn't allow her to cause Arnold any more discomfort than she was already.

Sighing, Helga massaged her forehead with her fingers as she tried to formulate a way to clarify the situation to Candace while appearing to remain cool and indifferent to everything.

Pride was great to parade around but when it had to be swallowed, it felt like glass and salt water going down.

No, she had decided that she would apologize to Arnold by clearing things up and this was part of that. Who cares if this brought Candace and Arnold back together? (Besides her). Who cared if he would probably spend all of Christmas and New Year with his girlfriend? (Again, besides her)

No one, (excluding Helga) would!

Steeling herself and marching to where Candace was ducked down, pushing inventory to the back and filling in the spots with back order, Helga stopped and crossed her arms against her chest.

"Hey, Price."

Helga fought her smirk at the girl's instant reaction of tensing up. The younger female turned her head and with a sigh, rose to her feet. There was a forced, pleasant smile on her face.

"What can I do for you, Miss Pataki?" She questioned sweetly causing Helga to snort.

"I'm off the clock," Helga pointed out.

The smile instantly faded and the tone became cold as Candace addressed her again, "Then what do you want Helga?"

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out as a long sigh, Helga diverted her eyes to the store display of an animated Santa with a pair of expensive earphones and an iWood N'xt swiveling back and forth from the hips as if dancing.

"A few days ago, I said something that might have been misunderstood," she started, only briefly flicking her gaze to the underclassman before going back to the Santa. "I—Arnold volunteered to raise some kittens, since the stupid football head didn't think things through and is partially busted at the moment, I said I'd help him out. That's what I meant when I said we were raising babies together."

Turning her attention to Candace again, she was quietly shocked to see the only difference in expression was a raised eyebrow and a slight frown.

"And you're telling me this now, why?"

Gritting her teeth, Helga fought back her annoyance, jealousy, and pride.

"I'm telling you this so you'll stop being all prissy and a jerk to him." Similar to the way Helga herself had been acting toward the male in question only a few days prior, but what Candace didn't know about that, Helga sure as Bob overpriced things wasn't going to tell her.

"Fine, I'm told. But I still don't see how I treat my boyfriend has anything to do with you," Candace replied, turning and flipping her ponytail over her shoulder as she did so.

Fighting in the middle of the store would be a bad, bad idea. So instead, Helga renewed her opinion that Candace was a creep and made a quick, furious exit. Tromping through the parking lot, intent on making it to the bus stop for the next pick up, the blonde huffed out an annoyed breath.

She had done her good deed, dangit! If the idiotic girl didn't realize the great sacrifice Helga made in not only clearing up the misunderstanding but basically pushed her back into Arnold's arms, well then Candace was too dense for—for—well, Arnold for one.

Helga felt her lips kick up in a self-satisfied grin. She was too preoccupied with listing all the various ways Candace was all wrong for Arnold that the sound of her name being called was completely lost.

It was the hand on her shoulder that alerted the girl to the other person. Glaring back over her shoulder, intent on flicking off the offending hand and dragging the presumptuous person across the verbal coals, she blinked in mid action.

"Arnold? What are you doing here?"

The male removed his hand and gifted her his classic lopsided smile.

"Waiting for someone to get off work," he quirked an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Ah, right, Candace.

Sighing, Helga turned, ready to continue her journey, throwing back to him, "She doesn't get off 'til after ten, football head. You might want to pick up a paper or something to kill the time."

Snapping her fingers, she turned slightly, and in a flat voice added, "Oh, and I explained everything to your little girlfriend, so she'll stop chewing on you about you having babies and stuff."

Helga had taken a few steps before a shy response reached her ears and caused her cheeks to flame red.

"Actually, Helga, I was waiting for you."

She was dreaming—no, she slipped on a patch of ice and she was in a coma. Yeah, that was it! She hit her head, was hooked up to every medical machine known to man in some hospital and her mind was trying to break it to her easy by having Arnold come for her.

Her hand twitched and with a mind of its own, her left hand rose slowly and drew back. With a sound smack, Helga flinched as her hand slapped her across the cheek.

Okay, so that had really hurt. She wasn't dreaming, dreams didn't sting and cause your eyes to water.

Arnold flinched when she hit herself. What on earth did she need to beat herself up for? Sighing, he scratched the back of his neck as he groped around his mind for the right words.

"I mean, you know, the kittens are taken care of, one of the boarders agreed to watch them for us," Arnold cleared his throat, nervousness creeping over his mind.

Helga finely turned around, staring at the blonde male in astonishment. Her silence was unnerving for Arnold and it was to break this silence he hastily added.

"It's either we hang out, maybe go to a movie or something to kill time, or go back home where we will be enlisted to aid my Grandma in a tribal dance to appease the fire god so he doesn't make the volcano under the house erupt."

Helga's mouth hung open in disbelief. She would have rolled her eyes and added a 'yeah, right' but having lived with the Shorts, she did not put it pass Grandma Gertie to come up with such a ludicrous scenario.

Well, another ludicrous scenario.

Snapping her mouth shut, she cleared her throat and easily asked, "Okay, what movie?"


Arnold grinned like the mad hatter as Helga grumbled under her breath as she weaved through the narrow walkway between the bent knees of other movie goers and the hard plastic backs of the seats.

Helga was never one to be quiet, but she had not said more than two sentences complete after they decided which movie to see. What finally got her out of whatever odd, shy shell she crawled into was when he cut her off at the ticket counter and paid for both of their tickets. She had huffed and declared she could pay for herself; in return he shrugged and smiled.

When Helga had gone to use the restroom before the show, Arnold was fortunate enough to get to the snack bar and purchase several various things for them to share. The girl had all but pitched a fit about being treated again.

He had only grinned and said it was too much for him to eat alone. She had glared, snatched the proffered drink, and the tub of popcorn before stomping into the theater.

Finally picking her way to the middle of the seventh row, her long time favorite area of the cinema, Helga and ineloquently plopped down in the seat.

The movie was already two weeks in its run, but was still popular enough for the room to be half filled with watchers. After situating himself and making sure to keep his injured arm away from Helga, just in case she decided to repay his pleasantry with pain. Though he wasn't going to say it, this was his form of apology.

His dad had been the one who suggested that Arnold apologize to Helga. When the teenager protested, claiming he did nothing wrong, both of the older Short men burst into laughter.

"Son, even if we were right, we were wrong," Miles said with a slow shake of his head and a soft smile. "The sooner you come to accept this, the easier your life with women will be."

It was just by pure dumb luck that his Grandma did decide to recruit people for the fire-god-appeasing-dance thing. After asking one of newer tenants who liked cats to just keep an eye on the kittens, Arnold had driven around the neighborhood, his mind churning, trying to figure out what he could do to kill a few hours. It wasn't until he parked his truck in Big Bob's parking lot that he even realized he was there. Killing the engine, the boy allowed the cold to creep in to the cab as he kept an attentive eye on the exit.

When he saw Helga stomp out, a deep frown on her face, he almost caved and ran. Instead, he mentally kicked himself into gear and climbed out of the truck. After she told him about Candace, a part of him sharply reprimanded him for forgetting that his girlfriend was Helga's co-worker.

It was fun to watch her gape in surprise several times throughout the evening, and then the childish glower she'd give him before turning her face away. It was—cute.

Popping a few kernels in his mouth, Arnold focused on the start of the previews. Twenty minutes into the actual movie, the male looked over to make a comment to his companion. His eyebrows shot straight up at her obvious lack of interest.

The curve of the back of Helga's head was rested on the back seat of the chair, mouth opened, arms crossed, and completely asleep.

Not able to hide stop the warm smile from curving his lips, Arnold decided to help the exhausted girl. Her current position might have been comfortable, but it was going to leave a serious crick in her neck if in that position for the next two hours. Switching his cup from the right cup holder to the left, he sent a silent thanks to the cinema's management for installing seats where the armrests could be shifted up and back or, as Candace had called them, sweetheart seats.

After some gentle coaxing, he managed to shift Helga until she leaned her head against his shoulder comfortably. Smiling at his triumph, Arnold directed his attention to the movie. At a particularly loud scene, Helga grumbled and fearful that she would wake and well, kill him, Arnold stiffened in anxious anticipation. Only repositioning herself, surprising him greatly when she slipped an arm through his, and clutched one hand into the sleeve of his shirt while the other draped across his wrist.

Blushing hotly, the blonde male tried to reassert himself into the movie plot, but with every twitch or contented sigh from his right, his eyes would flick down to the girl. Each time, she was asleep, face buried in the fabric of his shirt.

When he had to wake her up, there would be some explaining to do, but at that moment, Arnold just smiled, amused.


Stella was ecstatic as the bus rumbled down the road, toward the dreaded (by many a male) shopping section of Hillwood. As much as she loved to shop, the brunette woman had no steady female company to drag along on all the merchandise madness. Beaming a smile to the blonde girl next to her, Helga returned the gesture with an uncertain half-smile before she looked out the window across from her.

Not only had Stella been able to convince Helga to join her, Helga had strong armed Arnold into accompanying them as well. Her son was a slippery a bar of soap in a warm shower when it came to shopping but it took Helga's asking and a few hesitant heartbeats before the boy agreed.

Smirking, Stella grabbed the teenage girl's arm and squeezed gently. Befuddled, Helga gave her another unsure smile.

When the trio scrambled off the bus and through the crowd into the warm, populated mall, there was a sense of relief that soon mutated into a corrupted sense of gift-buying mode. This was not just shopping, this was war.

Rolling up her sleeves, Stella grabbed one of Helga's hands and hauled the girl toward the first store. Arnold, knowing his mom's ruthless routine, opted to stay outside the shop with the rest of the depressed dragged-along shopping buddies.

It had taken several minutes of persuasion for Stella to convince Helga to leave the kittens for some shopping. To Arnold the slight frown Helga wore wasn't from the prospect of shopping but worry and a want not to leave the kittens.

"Hey, Arnold!"

Turning, he and got an armful of Helga as she was walking toward him when a group of overly excited children ran behind her, shoving the female teen into blonde boy.

Confused, Helga glanced up and blushed a lovely pink, Arnold reflected the tint as they scrambled apart.

Clearing her throat and ignoring the bemused stares of the benchwarmers around them, Helga jammed her hand into a pocket of her coat, before yanking it out and holding out a fisted hand in front of Arnold. Slowly, he held up his good hand and without a word, she shoved a slim cell phone in his hands.

Refusing to make eye contact, the girl muttered so low Arnold strained to hear her, "That's yours, I programmed your parents', Sunset Arms, Gerald's, Phoebe's and my phone number into it."

She turned on her heels and scampered off without giving him a chance to respond.

Dumbfounded, the blonde watched as she merged back into the crowd and from there into the store his mother had gone into. Eyebrows knitted together, Arnold lifted up the phone to his face to study the odd object. Shrugging, he pressed what he hoped was the power button and no a self-destruct Helga programmed to pay him back from some new unknown offense. When the screen came to life, a grin twitched at his lips.

Three sets of familiar sleepy, dark eyes stared back at him with mouths white from milk. Helga must have tested out the camera at some time and made the kittens the background on the phone.

Scouting out a place to sit, the boy decided to find out what other surprises were loaded onto the device.


Sunday morning found Arnold clicking through his photos on his father's laptop. It was earlier than he normally fell out of bed (or off the couch) on the weekend. Even after staying up most the night having Helga explain the various functions and features of his new phone. She had kept her head down or overly attentive to the wobbling kittens as they tried to walk instead of crawl. They reminded him of furry baby sea turtles scooting around.

Helga had muttered something about them now being able to keep in touch without worry. He had given her a lazy smile as she blushed and jerked her attention to Gunner who had managed to squirm his way to the closed door of his bedroom.

Scanning through the thumbnails, Arnold leaned back and didn't try to kill the smile on his face. He hadn't told anyone else of the new phone with the hard orange protective case (compliments of his elated mother) or his phone number.

Candace would be a mix of emotions when he got around to telling her his number. Happy that he was now carrying a cell phone, angry because of how he obtained it, and horrified at whom bought it for him.

Clicking his tongue and tucking away the eventual fall out, he decided to refocus on the task at hand. He decided to take up the job in his dad's office because the door had a lock and his mom didn't have a key. Though he loved his mother dearly, she was starting to make him feel awkward around Helga.

Stella had pranced around, humming 'Jingle Bells', and pointing out various aspects of the girl's personality, appearance, and so on and how much she loved them all. Repetition was a nasty beast, before they had gone to bed; Arnold had to note that Helga's eyes were the same shade as the sea as right after the sun rose.

Shaking his head and groaning at his thoughts, Arnold reset his priorities and glared at the thumbnails as he browsed.

Though the blonde female had declared it a 'need', the boy couldn't help but label it a 'gift'. In the book of the family Short, no gift went without a gift returned. Okay, so it was in the book of Arnold Short—extended edition.

When he found the picture he had been looking for, he beamed with joy. It would take all his photographic connections to get it done in time, but it would be worth it. Clicking on the picture to enlarge it, Arnold grabbed his phone and after a few failed attempts, managed to type in the correct number.

Helga was going to be so surprised.


His heart leapt in his throat screaming, choking his own yelp of surprise.

Arnold could have sworn his heart stopped when he shut his locker door and came face to face with Gerald. The hall had been empty only a few minutes earlier when the blonde arrived after his doctor's appointment scheduled earlier that morning.

"What is going on with you, man?"

Taking a few steadying breaths, and making sure his heart was functioning properly again, the boy studied his friend. Gerald was as cool and casual as only he could ever pull off in a pair of jeans, sneakers, and basketball team sweatshirt.

"I was at a doctor's appointment for my wrist," Arnold explained, hefting his backpack with his good arm and slinging over his shoulder. "Where did you come from? And how did you even know I was back?"

Gerald pushed off the lockers he had been leaning against and stepped closer to his best friend.

"My Arnold-sense was tingling," the boy replied flatly. "That and my need to Get-Some-Sense-Into-Arnold warning bell was ringing."

Blinking, blonde eyebrows pinched together in the middle of his forehead.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't think just because I have a pretty face I'm an idiot," Gerald replied "I saw you getting cozy with her at the movies."

Arnold jerked his head toward his friend who stared back with a self-pleased confidence at having busted his buddy.

"How—when—?" The blonde boy stumbled over his words as he tried to sketch out Friday night and how he could have missed seeing Gerald at the theaters. True the boy had shaved off his high hair, but it was still nearly impossible for Gerald to blend in with his tall, lanky stature.

"Come on, man, have you been so out of it for the past few weeks that you forgot that I work at the Cineplex?" Gerald rolled his eyes. "So what was up with you and Helga the Horrible?"

Coughing and hoping that his friend would play ignorant to the blush on his face, Arnold shrugged.

"Nothing is up with us. We're just friends. She was tired so I let her borrow my shoulder," the blonde explained away.

"Uh-huh," Gerald started unbelieving, "If you ever did something like that to me, I'd have to visit you in the hospital. And if I ever let another girl 'borrow my shoulder' like that, you'd be visiting me in the hospital once Phoebe got through with me."

Frowning, Arnold stopped in front of the door to his class and turned to look at his best friend.

"What are you trying to say Gerald?"

Gerald shot Arnold a terse expression.

"What I'm saying is end whatever is going on between the two of you. Now. Nothing good is going to come from it, kill it before you get into some serious trouble."

Arnold rolled his eyes before giving an identical look to Gerald.

"We are raising kittens together, Gerald. Not kids. I don't see why—"

His words died on his tongue as a familiar chime went off several times in his back jeans pocket. Eyes widening in alarm, Arnold fumbled with his bag until he was able to fish his new phone out of the back of his pocket. Gerald curious study of his friend soon shifted into two uplifted eyebrows.

Hastily, he pressed the correct password on the screen and silenced the cell phone, deciding to read the texts from Helga later, and shoved the device back into his jeans' pocket. Lifting his head high, he tried to move around his friend, but the other male was having none of it.

"Since when do you have a cell?"

Arnold clicked his teeth together, he didn't want to lie but if he told him that Helga had given it to him—that would only serve to further the assumption that something else besides three little kittens was growing between Helga and Arnold.

"S-since I got one," Arnold tried to grab for the door handle to the class room only to have Gerald's shoulder rammed into his.

"Nuh-uh," Gerald pushed him back to the lockers, pinned him on the shoulder with one hand and pointed with his other. "You are not gettin' out of telling me about the cell phone after that very suspicious and epically failed escape."

As Gerald leaned in with a glare fixed on his face, Arnold gulped down the ball of worry and saliva that had formed on his tongue.

"Start. Talking."


Candace Price was not a stupid girl. True she wasn't the brightest star in the sky but she hadn't mutated into a black hole yet either! Something was wrong with her boyfriend. They had a system.

She'd get mad. He'd shower her with apologies and little tokens of his feelings until she was benevolent enough to forgive him. They'd smirk and smile at one another, perhaps go to a movie or to a party and all would be well until she got mad again.

However, this was not the case. Someone had changed the way of things and it had her ever more upset and frustrated. Arnold Short was a good guy. Candace, as well as every other female who'd met him, knew it. He was always honest, willing to help, and wanting to bridge gaps.

So where was he? He hadn't called since she'd hung up on him. He didn't meet her at her locker the next school day or even a stinking post-it note! It was as if he had quit her and forgotten to mention it to her.

Candace traced the heart on the front of her Spanish notebook with her fingertip, sighing, and wondering what was taking her boyfriend so long to seek her out.

Then came a cold, bitter thought.

Helga.

Helga was the only factor that was new to the equation. Of course, the kittens were a part of that as well but having a fat black and white cat named Buster, Candace could hardly conjure up blame to place on their heads.

All the blame, annoyance, and irritability had to be painted onto Helga since the kittens were innocent.

Puffing out an annoyed breath, the girl leaned her head on her propped up arm as she flipped the page dutifully with the rest of the class.

Candace wasn't so naïve as to ever believe that she could go up against Helga in a cat fight. Not only would the younger girl lose, she'd probably get suspended, and fired. Pranks were too childish and not the type of mark she wanted to make in her high school life. Class clowns were funny to watch and hear, but they did not get invited to the best parties or date star athletes.

If she could create some type of scandal or gossip about the blonde girl..? No, no that would just be a slow suicide. Rumors were able to be traced back and any type of scandal Candace could concoct would probably boost Helga's reputation into of cripple it. There was also the bitter fact that Pataki didn't seem to care what anyone thought or did to her, she always breezed through it with little effort and an indifferent heart.

Frowning, the girl spent the rest of the class going over ways she could disentangle Arnold from Helga or at least keep Arnold's attention until the end of the school year. However, at the end of the day, she had only come up with the conclusion that she had to wait for the moment to come.

A moment that would make everything implode on Helga and teach the girl not to mess with someone's boyfriend.