As the week finished, D continued to be D, the new, mysterious sexy student. It seemed that every day, more girls wanted him. Each day, their interest increased. Same for a boy or two- not that D was too shocked to learn Eugene was out of the closet now.
Helga, who he found himself spending tons of time with, seemed good on her word of keeping quiet. But that wasn't all she was good at. She was the best pool player D had ever met...not that he knew that before the bet.
"Alright, Bucko, let's see if you're all you've cracked yourself up to be. Pass me the chalk cube, will ya?" She was arrogant in the dim billiards hall, but so was he. Setting the cue ball down on the table, he split the triangle of balls perfectly. Two solids fell into their respective holes.
"Solids, baby!" he exclaimed. Leaning to her ear he added teasingly "Beat that, kid."
" You know- Curly- what'dya say we make this... more interesting, huh?" Her lip curled into a devious smile.
"PLEASE no more "Curly"- please?" his simper weakened her for a moment.
She was still amused at the complete change the nerd went through- they must have had cocoons in California.
"No ones around, you big baby... But fine. I'll stop calling you Curly.."
He sighed in appreciation.
"...IF-"
Aw fuck.
"...You win this game."
Unaware of her prodigious skill, he snorted. "And if I win?"
"Don't worry about that, you won't." She grinned.
"I'll agree on one condition." he stretched his arms and back in a very casually pretentious manner. "You lose" he drawled, "you tell Arnold."
She choked for a moment, but then grinned. "Honestly, it doesn't matter what you'd say. I'm not going to lose."
"So it's a deal?"
She shook his hand. "You know, D, it shouldn't take a lost bet to get you to be you again." she flicked her eyes up in a would-be nonchalant fashion, but the empathy was evident. He snorted.
"No really! You're not as different as you think. Sure you're like ten feet taller, apparently got a face transplant, and ditched the bowl cut, but you're still Curly. You've got a wild streak in you that you'll never outgrow. Why hide it?" she put an arm around his shoulders. Despite himself, he was glad to have a friend who knew his secret.
Unknown to the two, however, a trio of friends were walking by the billiards place during this-eh- heartwarming moment. Lila, Gloria, and Sheena- the definition of nice- looked in the billiards hall, and thought the same, stupid thing at once: "Helga and the New Kid? How adorable!"
Some teenage girls are idiots.
In retrospect, Helga would see where they got the idea. It was just the two of them, alone, and she was probably coming off touchy...
But that didn't give those little so and sos the right to spread a lie, or assumption, or theory (as Sheena said in terror as Helga held up Ol Betsy in strike position inches from her face later the next Tuesday) about the two. Since when was a game of pool synedochal to being in a steamy, secret, spur of the moment, whirlwind romance? And of course the rumors were all mistranslated.
"She was playing with his balls in a pool?"
Just Helga's perfect luck.
And to make matters even, somehow, worse, Rhonda was making nice, but clearly furious. All she had to do was ask what happened, but she was too proud. Helga kept her mouth shut for the exact same reason.
But D didn't see the harm. First, Rhonda looked livid in classes- a sure sign of boiling jealousy, no? Her fury was his glee. Revenge was sweet, but not sweet enough. Not yet.
And concerning Helga? Well, as far as D could tell, Arnold wasn't doing much better than Miss Lloyd. Sure he covered better but-the look on his face- if Helga couldn't see that the boy was crazy about her, she'd have to be blind. Or stupid. D hoped neither.
And second? Sure, he'd lost the game pretty badly (Helga was indeed awesome. Billy would just hate her!) A new plan had formulated. Helga was right, little Curly never left. D was always the rebel, always the weirdo, always the one to let passion take the wheel. He just upgraded to Curly 2.0. The sleeker, sexier Curly. And perhaps- perhaps- the ultimate revenge D could dish to Rhonda would be the knowledge that SHE, utterly and helplessly, had fallen for the little "creep" who'd loved her. No more hiding. No more secrecy. His dormant inner Curly was as determined to set himself free as he was with the Hillside Zoo animals. Now all he needed was to wait for the perfect opportunity.
That. Complete. Bitch.
Rhonda could not believe what she was hearing. Helga FREAKING Pataki?
And HIM?
It was too much.
"And Lila says they nearly kissed- right there! Can you believe it?" said Nadine breathlessly." No." replied the listening trio. Startled, Arnold, Phoebe and Rhonda
looked at each other.
"What? Why not? Why would Lila lie?" Nadine questioned.
"Because she's vacant as that lot on Kennedy Boulevard. Trust me. Helga would NOT do that-not to me." said Rhonda defensively, but in the back of her mind believed the opposite. "Right Phoebe?"
Phoebe looked thoughtful. "Although I don't mean to minimize the strength of your friendship, I find, rather, that the greatest flaw of the rumor is that Helga would ever even LIKE D...though he is handsome, he certainly is not her type." she finished confidently.
"What is her type, Phoebe?" Arnold knew this info was invaluable.
"Yeah, Phoebe, if its not sexy and swaggering-" Rhonda didn't buy it.
The sudden bell relieved Phoebe.
"Bye you two!" she slipped into the tide of students.
"Arnold, walk with me." Rhonda linked her slim arm through his more toned one. Thin though it was, it was surprisingly forceful.
"Before we begin, you clearly like Helga." Rhonda stated manner of factly, and continued to steam roller over his following stammering. "Don't argue. Don't lie. So I have a proposal for you." she stopped and looked him square in his startled face. "Help me get my D, and I'll help you get Pataki. Deal?"
"What exactly does that entail?" he replied hesitantly.
"Does it matter? Are you in or not?"
He blustered for a moment, then slowly, nodded. "I'm in."
Her face changed expression at lightning speed from crafty to...loving? The volume of her voice doubled, at least.
"Ah ah ah, Arnold!" she waggled a finger at him. "Seal it with a kiss."
"Wha-?"
But she was planted on his lips, oozing her strawberry lip goop on him. She broke away. "Bye, cutie!" she turned and flounced away down the hall.
Simultaneously a locker slammed. Was it hope, despair, or grim satisfaction that filled his chest cavity as he watched Helga Pataki run out the opposite door?
"Well Curly," Helga plopped down in the school grass beside him. "Its all over."
D looked up, perturbed. "Drop the whole rumor shit." he propped himself up on his elbows. "WE know we never had a ménage a trois in a pool- who cares what these people think?"
She groaned. "Oh god, that's what they're saying now?"
He laughed. "No but I wish they were. I'd be a god here."
Helga snorted. "Considering how nearly every girl who walks by you either turns beat red or creams herself, I'd say you already are."
"Aw yuck- too graphic Pataki." he chortled, shaking his head. "Too graphic."
She smiled, but briefly. "What's eatin you?" his voice softened.
He was shocked to see her eyes were drippy.
"Arnold and Rhonda...kissing." she groaned and sniffled. "How stupid!"
D, on the other hand, laughed. "Oh please... The levels to which Rhonda sinks never cease to amaze me."
Helga looked confused and annoyed, one eyebrow raised.
"Don't you get it? It's an act! Helga-come on-" He put his hands on her shoulders.
"Arnold, he...well you've got him wrapped around your finger, okay?"
Her confusion deepened.
"He wants nothing more than for a certain part of you to be wrapped around his 'finger'- know what I'm sayin?" he laughed.
"Curly. Pretending to date someone to make someone else jealous never works-trust me." then remembering one awful experience, she added, "at least not how you'd want it to."
"I'm telling you. The boys been a wreck. Glares at me all the time- he hasn't been paying attention in English- he's either staring at you or shooting daggers at me."
Helga didn't dare hope that was true.
"Well that's stupid," she grunted, scowling. She lay back in the grass and sighed. "You bring trouble, I think. Bad luck."
He laughed and fell back too, enjoying the warm, moist, sunny grass, but a moment later he was up at the cry of "Oh DEE-eeee...Helllllll-gaaaahhh!"
Ugh. Her. And...Him? Rhonda was walking towards them, pulling a reluctant Arnold.
"Hi you two!" she said too brightly. "Here's an invite to the annual Gerald Field birthday party, its Friday, you two should definitely" she gushed at the word "definitely come. It'll be great." stepping obviously on Arnolds foot, added "right, Arnold, dear?" she embellished this with a sickening nose-to-cheek rub. Arnold looked very uncomfortable. "Sure."
Helga looked annoyed. "You ever hear of Facebook, Rhonda? As in, paper free invitations?"
Rhonda smirked." me and Arnold prefer to be more..." she slid her hand down his back."...personal."
D was entertained, but Helga was stock-stiff in anger. She, in a very classic Helga fashion, stuck her foot out just as Rhonda turned to leave. Rhonda flailed, but gravity won, and spitting hair out of her mouth, she straightened herself up from the ground. Tenderly, to everyone's general surprise, D leapt up and helped her stand. Their eyes wore matching expressions; twin cocktails of curiosity, venerability, and shock.
Her contrived air evaporated in her quiet "thank you."
Arnold and Helga made eye contact, also wearing matching expressions, as if to say "This is weird."
And Rhonda turned, nearly forgot to yank Arnold, and walked distractedly away without a word.
D was just as quiet.
"That was weird," stated Helga bluntly.
She glanced at him. "You okay, D?"
He nodded.
"Well, I've got to get home. Bob's too incompetent to make pasta, so while mom's on her little 'trip' I've got to play homemaker. Bye, D!"
And The Boy Formerly Known As Curly waved goodbye to his retreating friend with his subordinate left hand, because his dominant right hand was clutching the little piece of gold that had snapped away from Rhonda's neck as she flailed; a fine piece of gold he had last seen resting on the green fabric of a jewelry box, the only jewelry box he'd ever given.
The gold was tarnished. He opened the locket; he smiled at the sight of the scratched compass glass. It was clearly, often touched.
"No, Helga." he muttered. "Call me Curly."
Rhonda had seen that expression before. She knew she had. Behind the smolder, she'd seen eyes like his. Big, deep, focused...they sped across her face as if checking to make sure not a freckle was out of place from her tumble...and it reminded her of something. Or someone.
A movie? But which?
Rhonda hated, above all, confusion. She couldn't handle it. She always ended up acting rashly out of it, and then seriously regretting her actions. The locket was tangible proof of that.
She couldn't find it anywhere.
Rhonda was frantic.
"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" she tossed her dirty laundry pell-mell around her room. Drawers she knew it wouldn't be in were strewn about, contents scattered.
"Sonia!" she yelled. A bored looking woman walked in.
"Si?"
Rhonda gestured distractedly toward her chest. "my...my locket. Compass locket. Have you seen it?" she was lifting up her mattress at this point.
"No." Sonia rolled her eyes and left the room.
A dozen images swam through her mind; places she could have lost it, places she'd been, D helping her up, Curly helping her up after he'd given her it, the locker room where maybe it came off when―
Wait a second. That's who D reminded her of. Somehow the coolest looking guy Rhonda had ever seen reminded her of the adorably weird, geeky little thing that loved her as a kid. She wondered where he was now...and after a bit of contented daydreaming and reminiscing about the boy, she began to feel guilty. And again, her mind strayed to D.
Thus began epiphany number two.
Maybe― she thought― it fell near him when I fell!
Excitement growing, she pulled out her phone. Helga would know where to find him.
