The lights in the auditorium dimmed while the curtain rose to reveal a dozen starlets. A gleam of white and silver reflected from the stage. Also, a spark of blue. There was Helga, strikingly poised, stretched with surety. She was a vision, a standout, long and lean, resembling a swan. Adorn in all white and silver, her hair smoothed in a high bun with tendrils hanging to frame her face. Her makeup, natural.
Most appeared stunned to see the one and only Helga G. Pataki dressed in something that fitted her frame like a glove. Sid and Harold were in shock; mouths opened so wide they could catch flies. Arnold and Gerald weren't in such a state; they had the pleasure of seeing a few of the rehearsals. Still, it was a bit shocking to see Helga in something so feminine combined with her dancing.
The girls whirled to face the audience, in a straight line. With a fluid motion, split into separate rows, Helga being in the front and center. Right arm arched overhead the other fanned to their hip. The front moved to the right while the second moved to the left. Crossing one foot in front of the other while gliding their left arm overhead to connect and tapping at the end. And repeated in the opposite direction. Her chin high, a natural smile, her eyes glowed, each step, she did with such certitude.
The rhythm pulsated, in her ears and dared her to break out. And she took the challenge. Not with the absence of fears, but pushing through. Keeping her doubts under control to let what she feels inside to pour out. Immersed in the music and the choreography.
Gerald nodded with a down turned smile and then peeked over at Arnold. Hooded eyes, a partial smile, his darting, but consistently lingered on a girl who was pure gold. She was so vividly cracking through her shell for all to see. The girl with the iron fist was coming into her own. All her years of hiding this part of herself. The tender heart, the vulnerability, the longingness to be who she is.
His gaze followed her tall frame as she glided with her own kind of elegance. Wow, she's. His thoughts cut off by an elbow to his arm. "Ouch!"
"Shhh ..." An older couple ahead of their row hissed and hushed looking right at him.
His eyebrows raised. "Sorry." He apologized and smiled at the couple. Once they turned back around, he puffed out a breath. That was embarrassing. Arnold glared at Gerald. "What did you do that for?" He whispered.
Gerald coughed and chuckled at the same time. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard. I was trying to stop you from making a puddle on the floor. They can see you from up there you know. What did I teach you about women? You have to try to be smooth and cool, no matter what. You can't let them see you panting like a dog in heat."
A dog in heat? There was no way I was doing anything close to that. Arnold deadpanned. "Get serious Gerald."
His face etched with a slew of emotions. "Oh," He cleared his throat. "I am serious. Dead serious."
Arnold rolled his eyes put his attention back to the stage.
Suddenly the music kicked up. And the girls snatched off the flowy skirts to reveal white shimmering pants. And begin to dance in a more hip hop style. The crowd reacts with much enthusiasm. Feeding off the energy, here was where Helga separated herself from the girls next to her. Where it became glaringly apparent that she was a standout. Not due to being technical, although she was in that regard. While girls like Lila, good in her own right, did everything methodically, by the text. Everything Helga did was filled with heart and emotion. Her humor, talent, passion all lit up the stage. She hopped into a lowered pose as the music shifted into a slower tempo. Her blue gems glimmered as she continued.
Gradually raising back into an upward stance, her legs in a deep lung. Her palms flat on the floor, she kicked her right leg up, and her other leg naturally rises. The move was forming a half split in the air, it looked impressive and displayed sheer strength.
So graceful. Thought the one with heavy lids, who couldn't stop his eyes were tracing the lines of Helga's figure.
Lifting with her chest was slowly raising her arms to stand upright and tall. With ease, she stepped into an attitude ballet pose. Reminiscent of her favorite picture of herself at age ten. Then, pointed her right toe inward, she pushed into a graceful spin. Her eyes were sealed, arms raised and curled as she continued to twirl. Her turns eased and whined down as the music did. Ending in the position she started in, head up arms behind her the music stopped. Her heart raced through her chest; a huge smile spread across her face. For the first time, in a while, she felt proud, proud of herself; as she should. The whole team was great, they all worked hard and executed amazingly. It was, in fact, Helga who blew everyone away. Proving to herself that she could face one of her biggest fears. She looked possible humiliation or rejection in the eye and did what her heart led her to do. In spite of those frightening possibilities.
She came out of the pose, heard the applause and saw the heads of people who stood up. She grabbed the hands of the girl to the right and the one to the left and took a big bow. Then, in a flash, the curtains dropped.
Helga raised the back of her hand to wipe her brow and exhaled. Whew, that went by quick!
Now over, Gerald nudged Arnold motioning to Helga's critics, who were suspiciously quiet. Arnold decided to find out their thoughts. "So, what did you think of the show? Of Helga?" Since you all were so convinced, her father paid her way in.
Stinky spoke up first. "I thought Ms. Helga did a fine job. Honestly, Arnold, I was too busy focusing on my Lila."
Arnold nodded because he figured that would be the case, then glanced between Harold and Sid.
Harold met Arnold's eyes. "What?" He dragged out that syllable. Then, pouted and shrugged. "She didn't suck."
Sid raised his eyebrows up and down. "She was kind of sexy; I had no idea she was so well-developed." Arnold gave a knowing look and shook his head. I knew he would say something like that.
"She's still not a real girl," Harold added.
"She's not a real girl?" Arnold smothered a laugh at Harold's stubbornness. "Whatever you say, Harold."
Backstage she was still running on adrenaline. Heaving, she grabbed a towel and stood to catch her breath. Her eyes maneuvered over at Kayla and even Lila feeling grateful that she had decided to warm up to them. She and Lila still weren't exactly friends. But she had, in fact, kept her membership on the team under wraps without Helga needing to ask. Boy, was Lila perceptive, she didn't even tell her boyfriend. And for that, Helga was grateful because she didn't have to deal with the judgment and torment she would get. Instead, she was able to let her dancing speak for her at the right moment.
Her thoughts interrupted and ears assaulted by this bird conversation. She only tuned in for a bit of it. "You know, we were great, but it would have been spectacular if Sheila were on the team instead of two left feet P."
Whatever. Helga heard it and knew she was being spoken about, used to it by now. And honestly, after what she had just accomplished nothing could make her feel weak. If she could hold her head high and feel happy in spite of her parents not being around. Then this couldn't tear her down. She turned and was meet with a proud hug from her best friend.
Arnold reached the stage and noticed the same thing. Where are Mr. and Mrs. Pataki? He looked around; he didn't recall seeing them anywhere in the audience. Their glaring absence saddened and disturbed him some. All the other girls had their parents and family hugging them. Helga had Phoebe. Phoebe, out of the corner of her eye spied Arnold coming near. So she gave Helga's hands a quick squeeze and retreated.
Quickly he retrieved a bouquet from a teacher; he asked to keep during the show. His hands gripped around the base, and he took in a sigh. He blushed when he noticed one or two of the girls were staring at him. And mouthing aw's his way. This is awkward...
As she continued to come down from a high. She glanced up to see some of her teammates swooning in her direction. Okay, these chicks are being weird even for them... "What?" She questioned. They gestured for her to turn around and she did. "Arnold?"
He hid them behind him before she turned around. "Hey, Helga," He presented her with the flowers with a bashful smile. "Here. Congratulations." She only stared at him. He reached out to give her a one arm hug. Oh, Arnold... She froze, not knowing what to do but managed to pat him on the back. "You were wow ... I enjoyed every minute of it." He shakily whispered near her ear. When he stepped back, still trying to hand her the roses. He took notice of how confused and nervous she was. Why is she nervous, is it because of me? He placed a hand on her shoulder with a half smile on his lips. Little did he know that only made it worse. "These are for you. They're also from my parents. They wanted to be here, but they had a prior engagement."
She pulled back and tried to mask the intensity of her feelings. Her eyes darted from the object in her hand to Arnold. "You didn't have to get me these."
"I know-"
"You wanted to," She finished for him with an eye roll. "Yeah, yeah, hair boy." Arnold chuckled and smirked just the slightest and was about to walk off. "Arnold..." She peeked over her shoulder; the others had put their attention elsewhere. "Thank you, uh," She held them in one hand and rubbed her arm with the other. Criminy, you can't crack in front of him. She looked down at what was in her hand and said the first thing that came to mind. "Like I said you didn't have to get me these, but I appreciate it, thanks." She lowered her chin and smiled in a way that reached her eyes. "These are beautiful."
His happiness shone through his smile. So are you. His half-lidded eyes switched into saucers. Did I really just...?
Helga's face scrunched up in confusion at the sudden awestruck look across his face. Now she had a distraction; her nervousness eased away. What the heck is his problem? I only said thank you and the kid's acting like I did an FTi confession part 2. "Put those eyes back in your sockets Arnoldo. I only said thank you, like I've done a million times, geez. Nothing to get all worked up over."
He brought himself out of whatever strange dream-state he fell into and shook his head. "No, it's not that it's..." Me losing control over my own thoughts. He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm glad you like the roses. Congratulations again." That rushed out of his mouth, and he sped off.
Helga watched him take off, with a brow up. "Hmm, his hat must be too tight." She shrugged and brought the roses to her nose. Not a big flower girl, but like the daisy he gave me ... I'll cherish them. These are from my Arnold. She hugged them into her chest but remembered she was in public. Quickly realizing she had a few eyes on her and shrugged it off. My Arnold? Get a grip. He isn't your Arnold. She made an exaggerated huff as she made her way to her individual locker.
Arnold reached the end of the hallway; he met with a crossed arm Gerald. "What was that about?"
"What about?"
"Don't play dumb."
"I'm not, I-"
"With Pataki. I saw the whole interaction backstage."
His hand seemed to leave his side on its own accord to massage the back of his neck. "Okay, and? I gave her the roses like I told you I would. To congratulate her and make up for what happened yesterday." I don't know how to thank her for what she did for me in the past...
"Nah, that's not what I'm referring to." He placed his hands on his hips, looking fed up. "Now I've been overlooking this little development because it's just been too bizarre. And there were many signs ever since your little spat with her. I saw your little show in the audience and then backstage ... And ... that solidified my theories." Theories, development? What is he going on about?
Gerald's face mellowed into a thoughtful expression; he regarded his best friend with concern. He inched closer to him and lowered his voice. He decided to make it understandable. "You like Helga G. Pataki. And I mean beyond a friendship level." What?! "... A-And.." He stuttered and studied Arnold's look of aghast. "Let me remind you how crappy of a liar you are, so don't waste your time trying it."
Arnold's face went through a range of expression before landing into a blank one.
Gerald slowly rotated his head from left to right. "Mm mm mm. I always knew one day your perplexity for a challenge and an adventure would get you into some stuff... I didn't expect you to catch feelings for Pataki. Wow. That's, uh," He scratched the side of his neck. "Deep." He looked the blond guy up and down. "Say something."
I have no idea what... He looked directly at this friend and chuckled. "No, we're talking about Helga Pataki. My friend. The girl we grew up with, there's no way ..." He trailed off his face sobered. He thought about all that he's learned about her. His forehead creased, he knew what he was about to say was a lie. There was a possibility, a strong one; he could develop feelings for her. She wasn't only Helga G Pataki persona she portrayed herself to be. The girl with the iron fists. She did sincerely have a tough side, but she was more complex and layered than that. And he knew it well, probably more than most. There's no way he could deny the facts about her, especially after what he learned from his mother. He was wrestling with what he was feeling. Arnold opened his mouth and remained silent for some moments. His eyes on the tile floor, "I don't know what to say," He said just above a whisper. "I need to get out of here. Get some fresh air."
He tramped down the hall at an even, fast pace. Gerald wasn't going to let him off that easy. He was right on his heels with humor in his every comment. "Hey partner, I know I told you, you need a girl with some oomph ... but I didn't mean that much." He laughed at his words.
Arnold turned half-way and huffed in response. "Gerald, you're not helping."
He waved his hands in the air, his eyes half closed, trying to be apologetic. "Sorry, sorry, but I can't help it ... Everything's still sinking in, and this is my way of dealing with it." His best friend seemed increasingly amused. "My main, man Arnold is crushing on Helga G. Pataki." He laughed, the kind where his eyes shut and watered a little.
I wish he would stop saying that so I can think. "You know." He stopped. "I never said that. You did."
Gerald lifted a brow and folded his arms. "And you never exactly denied it either."
Arnold's face blanked, again, not being able to counter that he told Gerald to give him some space. And he left the school.
Back in the school, Helga felt the absence of her parents. At the same time, she felt so much love around her. So many people, so much she didn't know approached her to offer a hug or a simple kind word. Receiving positive reinforcement was such a foreign, scary experience. And she didn't quite know how to react. She knew she didn't want to go back to the way things were. It felt like she had no choice now but to stand in faith, in confidence and be the real Helga.
Now changed and back inside the auditorium, Helga waited on the Heyerdahl's. Her bouquet in hand, a large part of her, hoping she would find him. After forgiving him, no longer could she ignore what her heart felt. Doing some reflecting, she felt accomplished. She proved to herself; she could find happiness and place for herself in the world. Inside, she knew she was getting close to not having to rely on him as a source of such a strong, much-needed emotion. Still, in the car now, she pulled out her a golden jewel out of her bag. She flicked it up and admired what entered her gaze. She closed it up and put it around her neck. Of course, her action didn't go unnoticed by Phoebe, but she only smiled. What her act symbolized was that she was holding to hope that one day she could be happy alongside him.
Thank you for the nice reviews:P