Chapter 2: Let's Make Up A Dance
Arnold blinked hard once before downing the last of his herbal protein shake. Grandma was in the habit of making them every night, knowing Arnold had some kind of early morning workout routine, and Arnold almost always got an earful if he didn't take them. He wasn't entirely sure what went into his grandmother's protein shakes, but they helped, in one way or another. Tossing the otherwise empty glass into the kitchen sink, Arnold laced up his sneakers before heading to the front door. His plan was to run to the park, go a round once or twice, come home and get ready for school. He'd given himself at least an hour to do all of the above, knowing beforehand that he didn't need a lot of time to get ready for school. The new semester was beginning today, and he was certain that any lateness he may have would be excused.
He started off jogging slowly, picking up speed as he went along. It was early morning, and definitely chilly, considering his attire. The white T-shirt was large, and the navy- blue shorts barely grazed his knees, but for the sake of not being too weighed down, he didn't dress heavily. By moving quickly enough, he was able to keep his body warm, and by the time he reached the park, located a few blocks away, he'd worked up a minor, but noticeable sweat. The empty park gave him an opportunity to think about he previous night.
Nothing of any worth happened between himself and Sophie, as he expected. She'd been more flirtatious than he may have usually gone for, but she was cute, and they had good conversations. Well…one good conversation. He was talking to her about a paper he was writing about The Jazz Age, and she was…nodding. A lot.
'Okay', he reasoned. 'Not all girls are amazing conversationalists.' he thought turning the corner. He was definitely physically attracted to Sophie. She didn't have a lot goin on upstairs, but she was pretty, and from the way she held onto his thigh for the duration of him dropping her of at her house, she was just as, if not more so, attracted to him. Nevertheless, he had no intentions of going any further with her than he did with any other girl he'd briefly "dated" over the school year. He was hardly a player, but the attention from girls was not something he was in short supply of.
Before he could ponder the "Sophie Situation" any further, he arrived at the near empty park, and turned to the left to pick up his speed. He worked on pushing himself as far as he could; high school baseball was one of the sports that didn't do much running in regards to training it's players. Nearly every other sport incorporated sprints and laps around the football field in their training, but he was somewhat thankful that he was engaged in a sport that didn't lax in actually training him, but still kept him in peak physical condition.
He paid little attention to his surroundings, and the few people inhabiting the park, until he noticed a lone figure sitting on a bench not too far up on his path. Said person was sitting on the bench, hunched over completely, either inspecting something on the ground or tying a lace. For a moment, he thought that he had been spotted, but the person merely stood and began jogging away from him. It was then, that he was able to piece the components of this person together to form a whole being. The long blonde ponytail, long strides, overly silent demeanor. Before he was conscious of it, he called out a name, nearly certain that he was addressing the person he was meaning to.
"Hey Helga!" he called to the retreating blonde. Confusion momentarily overtook him; he could have sworn that he saw her speed up in her jog. Pushing himself further, and knowing it would only result in a more extensive exhaustion, he struggled to catch up with Helga. She'd been known for her overall dedication in all things except one: sports. She bounced from one extracurricular sport to another, returning only if she found the sport itself fun and more rewarding than the last. Since the ninth grade, she'd participated in nearly every girl's sport (and apparently, tried out for wrestling, but that was more than likely a rumor) in the their school, and made the team 90 percent of the time. She was noted as being a "natural born athlete with a natural lack of commitment". Last year's sport was track, and although she excelled at it, there was little chance she'd be returning.
As Arnold closed the gap between Helga and himself, he reflected back on the past few weeks. As reserved as Helga generally kept herself in regards to other people, he couldn't help but feel she was being unusually aloof towards him. They spoke less than often, and when they did, Helga would sometimes get a far-away look on her face; as if she were thinking incredibly deeply about something without really wanting anyone to know what it was. When they were at school, she would sometimes stare at him with a strange look on her face that would disappear instantly. Almost as if she were waiting on something from him and upon not finding it, would find something to immediately distract herself. He meant, on several occasions, to ask if she was alright, or better yet, if they were alright, (whatever they happened to be at the time) but he never did. For some reason, he felt that he would either get no answer at all, or one that would only serve to confuse him further.
When he was within an arms reach of her, Arnold straightened out his face and ran beside her instead of breaking her concentration and potentially throwing her off. From a few feet behind, however, he could already tell that is was indeed Helga he was pretty much chasing. She wore a pair of black sweat pants, and an oversized dance T-shirt with cut-off sleeves. Her attire paired with her stern face and mostly unchanging silhouette, confirmed her identity. Even as he ran alongside her, her face stayed rigid, as if he weren't even there.
She didn't speed up at his sudden presence, nor did she look at him, choosing to ignore him altogether. 'Either that,' Arnold surmised. 'Or she's got a one track mind.'
Without warning, Helga stopped, looked down, and pulled something small and white from off of the waistband of her sweatpants. She pushed a button on the small device, mumbled something to herself, and resumed jogging. Arnold, still standing a few feet ahead of her, assumed that she would jog to where he was and attempt to reinitiate their conversation, or lack thereof. Instead she jogged past him, as if he weren't here, much like she did before, only looking slightly more content. Somewhat begrudgingly, Arnold jogged up to her again, more determined than before to find out what exactly was wrong with her.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, taking on less of a 'concerned older brother' tone and more of a 'slightly peeved, a little more than friends' tone. Even as they turned at the arch in the sidewalk, he kept his gaze on her.
"Excuse you?" she asked, nonchalantly, glancing at him only for a moment, before checking her watch and focusing her attention back on the path.
If not for the momentum Arnold built up, he would have stopped right then and there in shock. Helga's statement was barely out of the ordinary; if ever someone had a problem with her, she would calmly ask them to either repeat themselves or clarify using the aforementioned assertion. She surmised, that if ever anyone had a bone to pick wither, they had better do it properly or drop the matter altogether. What surprised Arnold was not what she said, but more so how she said it. She didn't appear to be extraordinarily angry with him, and he couldn't think of a reason as to why she would have been, even if she had something to be upset about.
"Nothing." he replied, attempting the same aloofness that Helga was seemingly born with, and falling short. "You left the party early last night." he said, somewhat randomly, grasping for conversation of any kind and hoping to avoid an argument.
"Mhm." she replied to his observation. Arnold was almost under the impulse to roll his eye and jog away from her, before he realized that he was probably not on good terms with Helga at the moment, and running away from her would do nothing to remedy the situation. Also, he was pretty tired already and didn't have to stamina to jog ahead of her and stay there long enough to let his frustrations become known.
Directing his eyes momentarily from Helga, Arnold was taken aback when Helga actually spoke.
"So, how was the party after I left?" she asked, still not looking at him, and trying to show minimal interest as she spoke.
Arnold cracked a smile and answered. "The usual…nothing special, really. I'm not sure why I went at all." Arnold wasn't sure why he added that last part at the end. It was almost as if Helga knew why he was really there. As if she saw through his unimportant façade and thought differently of him because of it. The truth was that he knew exactly why he was there. He had thoughts of attending prior to meeting Sophie, but she was he initial reason. The two met not long before the party, and upon recognizing Arnold as a "close" friend of Helga's, Sophie asked for an introduction. She went on about all of her experience in dance, and how she didn't understand why she didn't get accepted into Company. Arnold agreed, hoping Helga wouldn't be too turned off by the girl. He had a feeling he was wrong on that account. "Sophie had a good time, though." he added, hoping not to strike a wrong chord with Helga, as if he hadn't already.
"What was up with your little girlfriend, anyway? Could she have been any more obvious?" Helga asked, curling her lip, but still reflecting a small smile on her face.
"Sophie's not my girlfriend," Arnold pointed out, nearly missing the apathetic "hmm" that came from Helga, before he went on. "She wanted to meet you, I guess. She's a dancer."
"Uh huh, right. Since when do you pimp for Dance Company, anyway?" Helga asked, her slight laughter making her sound almost breathless. Arnold knew better than to take this as a sign to slow down, and kept his pace steady as he replied.
"I was not pimping. I don't know why she thought you had some kind of control over who gets into Dance Company-"
"I do." she stated simply.
"What?" he asked, not quite hearing her.
"I said I do. I do have some control over who gets in Dance Company. I'm one of the senior officers." she said, not taking the opportunity to gloat.
"Oh." he said, never realizing the way Dance Company actually worked. He would have assumed Helga would hold a leadership position, but seeing as she never spoke about it, he didn't have much to go on. "So why say no to Sophie? She tells me she's got experience and-"
"To be honest," Helga began, slowing down and finally coming to a halt in front of the east entrance to the park. "I don't think she's good enough. There are days when I don't even think I'm good enough." she said breathlessly, finally looking him in the eye for the first time that morning. Before Arnold could ask what she meant, she continued. "But we're the best. And we work hard, without shortcuts. End of story." Helga looked to the park entrance, and rolled her right shoulder in preparation to start running again. She met his eyes then, in an awkward fashion; almost as if she realized who she was talking and in what manner and instantly fell back into a state of detachment. "Bye." she said, before taking off again towards her home, leaving Arnold alone and perplexed at the entrance to the park.
"Does Helga seem different to you?"
Gerald was considerably taken aback by the question. If anything he was expecting a question regarding the most recent Baltimore Ravens/ New York Jets game, or possibly a request for homework. Gerald was aware that Arnold "cared" for Helga in one way or the other; their closeness in the company of himself and Phoebe was evident to that. What caught him off guard was the abruptness of the question and the fact that Arnold asked him of Helga's current moods in a place as public as their high school cafeteria. The most "public" that he'd ever gotten in regards to any relationship between himself and Helga was a pair of conjoined hands between the two after a movie.
"I don't know. Why?" Gerald asked. He knew exactly why Arnold was asking him that question. Helga had finally begun truly giving Arnold the cold shoulder, the same attitude that he so subtly showed her when under the eye of their peers. 'About time', Gerald thought, finishing off his lunch. He did not want to take any sides, but could not help but think that Arnold was, for the most part, at least, at fault for the drift that was slowly separating himself from Helga.
"She was acting kind of strange this morning. I ran into her in the park while I was jogging, and she wasn't talking much." Arnold said, his tone bordering on dejection. Gerald almost began pitying his friends, but knew that the solution rested in the two of them resolving this on their own.
"Maybe you should just ask her." he replied, stating the obvious. He and Phoebe had several conversations about the situation between their estranged friends, and determined that peace would come when the two simply sat down and talked things out rationally and calmly. In light of the situation, both knew that the resolution would be anything but "calm" and "rational".
"I might." Arnold said, coming up from his mood instantaneously.
Gerald was shocked by this. Addressing Arnold in a serious manner, he said, "You should." Realizing the way his statement could have been taken, he took a deep breath and tried again. "What I'm saying is, when dealing with members of the fairer sex, a.k.a. "ladies", one must handle himself with the utmost caution and grace." Gerald explained, more jovial this time.
"Translation?" Arnold asked.
"Don't start the conversation off with 'What's up with you, lately?' She'll go on the defensive right away, and then you'll be right back to square one. Understand?" Gerald replied, clarifying himself.
"Yeah. Thanks Gerald." Arnold said, launching himself from the table and exiting the cafeteria.
Gerald shook his head at his retreating friend. "Dense as a rock, that boy…" he said, out loud, before turning to abandon the table and leave the cafeteria as well.
Arnold scanned the students weaving in and about in the hallway. He was either looking for Helga or someone who would know where on campus she was. He checked the English department; he was aware that she was not only an aide, but nearly obsessed with the English language and writing, and that would be a likely place to find her. Upon not finding her there, searched the halls of the school hoping to find her heading home at the end of the day. A flash of bright hair and a pink duffel bag immediately caught Arnold's attention, and he made his way towards her, calling her name to make his presence known. Arnold had to laugh at the repetition of the events in his day. Chasing girls seemed to b the theme of his day. When he reached her, she whirled around and widened her smile at the sight of Arnold.
"Arnold," she began, looking him up and down and drawing out his name. "What can I do for you, today?" she asked, sweetly.
Arnold had to smile at Lila. It was hard for him to believe that this was still the girl he'd been infatuated with in elementary school. She wasn't vastly different from the girl he knew so many years ago. Nothing drastic happened to her; her family did not magically fall into money, she was not abused or mistreated, she just grew up. "I was wondering if you knew where Helga was. I wasn't sure if you guys had practice today." he asked.
Lila took a deep breath and looked to be thinking hard. "No, practice was cancelled today." she said, momentarily leaving it at that, to gauge Arnold's reaction. Upon seeing the slight fall of his shoulders, she continued. "I did hear her mention something about Volleyball tryouts. She's probably still there."
Arnold broke his gaze with Lila, and thanked her. He'd have simply turned and left, had Lila not commanded his attention.
"Is everything alright with you and Helga?" Lila asked, serious and unexpected.
"Yeah," Arnold said, pacifying her for the time being. "I just needed to talk to her for a sec."
"Well, you guys are friends, so I'm sure you'll work it out." she said, nodding her head to the side. Arnold was tempted to ask Lila how she knew about any problems between himself and Helga, but by the time he looked back at her, she was advancing down the hallway, turning around only to send him one last message.
"And you might want to watch out for your girl, Arnold. I wouldn't be surprised if somebody snatched her up while you weren't looking."
Arnold reflected on Lila's last statement for a moment, only to shrug it off, and head towards the gymnasium. Upon arriving, he found an empty hallway and the door to the gym locked. He headed towards the doors to the front of the building, hoping that if she were waiting for a bus, or already on her way out, he'd be able to catch her before she left. He had somewhat of a plan mapped out in his mind of how to put an end to whatever slump he and Helga had found themselves in. He wanted to invite her over that night, and just to keep her from getting any suspicions, he'd have Phoebe and Gerald come over a little later (so that he'd have ample time to talk to Helga) and they'd watch a movie.
Upon not seeing her anywhere around the outside of the building, Arnold gripped the collar of his shirt and ran briskly through the pouring rain until he got to his car. Once inside the car, Arnold rubbed his hands together for warmth before starting it, and backing out of his parking space. Leaving the parking lot and looping around the school, Arnold drove cautiously in the rain, until getting to a red light. The rain pounded on the hood of the car and silenced anything outside of it. Turning on the heat within his car, Arnold glanced around the street, waiting for the light to turn green. In the lane to the far right, Arnold eyed a school bus, probably taking the last of the students home from school. As the bus surged forward, Arnold's lane stayed stagnate, an in place of the bus, he was greeted with a new picture.
By the side of the road, stood Helga, drenched from head to toe, clay-colored mud spattered on her clothes, clutching her signature pink duffel bag and back pack. Arnold signaled to get over into the lane nearest her, but traffic was heavily congested, and he couldn't an opening in the line. Stealing a glance at Helga, he saw her slump her shoulders in distress and defeat, and was suddenly struck with an idea. He couldn't get over to her; that much was obvious, but traffic was slow enough from her side that she could walk in front of and behind cars without getting hit. Rolling down his window, he opened his mouth to call her over, when a black car appeared between his eyeshot of Helga. The windows were dark and tinted, keeping him from seeing who was in the driver's seat. The silhouette leaned over, and got Helga's attention quickly. The look on her ace changed drastically and immediately; she stood now in the rain, smiling and laughing. She paused momentarily, then looked both ways, as if being watched, and walked up to the car, opened the door and slid in. The car, signaled to reenter the lane, and glided down the street effortlessly.
Arnold sat in his car, pondering the events of the past few seconds carefully, rationalizing the options in his mind. He was confused as to why Helga was standing by the side of the road in the rain, who she got a ride from. Not to mention the statements made by Gerald and Lila earlier in the day. It seemed as though everyone knew something concerning himself and Helga that he was completely oblivious to. He couldn't put his finger on it, and in any other situation, he'd have let things progress as usual, without any apprehension as to what may or may not happen. He reasoned however, that if it effected his relationship with one of his friends, Helga in particular, he had reason to worry.
The light finally turned green, and Arnold turned the corner, all the while fishing his phone out of his pocket. Once it was out, he dialed the number he'd memorized long ago.
'Come on, Helga, pick up…'
There's chapter three. Told you it'd be short. Not much to say in the way of Author's Note's. I think I've get the feeling I'll be getting sick soon, so I'll either be writing a lot, or not at all. Depends on how sick I am. That and all the other things going on, I may or may not update too speedily.
Many thanks for reading.
-PointyObjects
