[A/N: This one was a fun one to write! You'll see why. Thanks for all of the reviews! It means a lot to me.]
"What's that in your hand, Helga?"
Phoebe and Helga were sitting together on the bus ride home. Helga was holding the little pink heart close, but eyeing it suspiciously.
"Oh, this? Um, nothing," Helga came out of her thoughts abruptly, trying to hide the card behind her back.
Phoebe furrowed her brow. "Helga, you can't fool me. You've been staring at that card for ten minutes now. Is it a valentine?" Phoebe's smile stretched from ear to ear.
Helga rolled her eyes and responded sarcastically, "No Phoebe, it's the water bill," she sighed, handing over the card. "Look,"
Phoebe carefully examined the card, opening it up to read the message inside. Another grin appeared on her face. "Helga…" she looked up at her friend in excitement.
"Ohhh no," Helga crossed her arms, shaking her head. "I'm not going. Any idiot could tell who it's from,"
"Exactly! So why wouldn't you want to go?" Phoebe felt like she was more excited by this turn of events than Helga was.
"Because!" Helga shouted but then quieted her voice when the kids in front of her turned around with a dirty look. "Because, it's just too awkward, okay? I feel like this is happening too fast. He wasn't supposed to find out about the Cecile thing and we still haven't talked and… criminy, Phoebe, he saw me without my shirt on!"
Phoebe giggled but continued to press Helga. "Helga, it's been months since your… incident… with Arnold. Besides, you aren't making any sense. You love Arno-"
Helga slapped a hand across Phoebe's mouth and anxiously looked around the bus, checking to make sure no one heard what was almost said. "Phoebe! What is the matter with you?!"
"I'm sorry Helga but you're being quite ridiculous. This is Arnold. And this is a good sign! He wouldn't go to this sort of trouble if he was going to reject you! Your paranoia is clouding your judgment,"
Helga considered that for a moment. Phoebe was right. This was something to be exciting about! So what if he saw her in her frilly pink training bra? As embarrassing as that was, it wouldn't be like Arnold to make a fuss over it. He was probably more embarrassed than she was, considering the fact it was his fault. The important thing that she needed to grasp was that Arnold had sent her an invitation to the dance! He was asking her out! Helga's heart skipped a beat and she felt like she was melting into a puddle as she gazed at the back of Arnold's head. He was sitting about half a dozen rows up with Gerald and Sid.
Oh, my love. Could it truly be? Could my every girlhood dream be coming true? Oh hush, my trembling heart, eagerly awaiting your love that would soon envelop it in eternal bliss…
"Helga!" Phoebe waved a hand in front of her best friend's face. "You're doing it again!"
"What?" Helga shook her head. "Oh, sorry Pheebs,"
"Please tell me you're going to go!" Phoebe pleaded. "…Are you going to go?"
Helga gave Phoebe a smirk. "Doi! Of course I'm gonna go!"
. . . . . . . .
Friday came and after school Helga was hastily flipping through her closet for something to wear. She pulled out the Cecile dress and held it against her, considering.
"Not a chance," she said, tossing the dress carelessly behind her. "It's gonna be awkward enough,"
. . . . . . . .
By six twenty-five, Helga was standing against the side of the front steps of the school, hidden from her arriving classmates. However, since the dance wasn't scheduled to start until seven, there hadn't been many people to hide from in the first place.
She'd finally settled on another dress that had made its home in the back of her closet, untouched. It was a knee-length fuchsia dress that hooked behind the neck in a halter-style. The ruffled texture at the bottom brought it to life while two pieces of the fabric at the chest crossed one another, coming together as a bow in the back.
Somehow, she had managed to find a place in that dress to store her locket. She looked around to make sure no one was coming before she pulled it out, gazing at it adoringly.
"Oh Arnold, my heart desperately awaits your arrival, pounding anxiously against that which confines it. Could this be the moment? The moment when love bears all, revealing every guarded secret I've harbored all of these years… but you somehow knew it all along… Somehow in that football-shaped head of yours, you've seen through my brusque façade and into my tortured soul, releasing every pent-up emotion that's begged for years to be set free! Oh, my love…"
A familiar wheezing sound behind her, Helga scowled. She slipped her locket back into her dress and without looking, raised her fist, punching Brainy in the face.
"Helga?" Arnold appeared, peering around the steps. What's Brainy doing here?
"Arnold!" Helga jumped. "Uh, hi…" She felt her palms becoming sweaty as she noticed Arnold in his handsome suit. Black dress pants, a crisp white shirt, and he was even wearing a matching jacket!
"Hey! Is he… is he okay?" Arnold raised an eyebrow, looking past Helga at Brainy. His glasses were broken and his face crumpled as he lay in a heap on the sidewalk. Yet, he was smiling.
"Oh yeah, he's fine," Helga waved a hand nonchalantly as she came out from behind the steps, approaching Arnold.
Arnold took one more concerned look at Brainy before he turned his attention to Helga.
Once he allowed himself to take in her image, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Her dress accentuated her hidden femininity and he was surprised she even owned such a garment. She was wearing only a little mascara and had her long blonde hair down and pulled to the side with a bobby pin.
Wow, she looks incredible with her hair down…
Helga broke the awkward quiet. "So…"
Arnold shook his head, dispelling his daydreams. "I, umm… I see you got my card…" He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
Helga rolled her eyes, "Doi!"
Arnold went to speak but his voice cracked. "I-I-" He cleared his throat to start again. "I'm glad you came," He looked away, hoping she wouldn't notice the slight blush coming to his cheeks.
Helga also averted her eyes, "Yeah, well… it's not like I had anything better to do…" Her tone, though sarcastic, was softer now.
Arnold looked back up at her, gulping. "You look… uhh… umm…"
Helga met his gaze, furrowing her brow. "Spit it out, Hairboy,"
Helga swooned in her head. He's so nervous!
"Amazing," Arnold's voice cracked and Helga couldn't help but laugh before she realized the content of his statement.
"Oh…" She looked down at herself, blushing furiously, then back at Arnold. "Uhh… thanks,"
Helga felt like her face was on fire, her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she stood in front of Arnold, neither one of them making another move.
"I actually had this idea… on my way here," Arnold rubbed his neck nervously. "And I was wondering, if maybe… well, if instead of going to the dance, you might be hungry?"
Helga raised an eyebrow (so to speak), "What are you getting at, Arnold?"
"Like, dinner… would you want to get dinner with me…instead of going to the dance?" Arnold felt like every hair on his body was on end. How was it that Helga could make him feel like this? So unsure of himself, so nervous…
Helga looked puzzled. She crossed her arms, "And what if I was really looking forward to the dance, Football-head?" She honestly couldn't care less. She was basically on a date with Arnold and that's all that mattered but that didn't mean she couldn't still give him a hard time.
When his face fell, she chuckled. "Let's go," she looped her arm around his, allowing him to escort her. "Where were you thinking?"
Arnold beamed at her acceptance and teased her back, "I guess you'll just have to find out,"
"Oh brother,"
. . . . . . . .
Arnold led Helga around a corner and stopped. "Here we are!"
She looked up at the familiar décor of the restaurant. Her muscles tensed and her pulse sped up again.
Chez Paris. Criminy, of course he would bring me here!
Arnold must have known what was going through Helga's mind because he couldn't contain his grin.
"Come on, I already got us a reservation!"
"You did what?" Helga's surprised question went unanswered as Arnold excitedly pulled her in the direction of the front entrance.
Once inside, Helga felt even more anxious than she had before. Arnold had arranged for them to have the very same table they had on Valentine's Day two years ago.
Arnold, ever the gentleman, pulled Helga's chair out for her and her eyes never left him as she tentatively took a seat. He pushed her in and sat in the chair across from her.
They were both undoubtedly nervous, making pitiful attempts at small talk as they awaited the introduction of their waiter.
Arnold took a sip of his complementary glass of water. "So…"
Helga fidgeted with the ruffles on her dress. "So…"
"How'd you do on the math quiz?" Arnold asked, desperate for a topic. He had memorized everything he wanted to ask her earlier that day but somehow being around her made his well-organized questions turn into a chaotic assortment of ideas.
"Fine… How are you doing with all your make-up work?" Helga took a sip of her water.
"It's okay. I missed the whole poetry unit for language arts," An idea struck him and he grinned mischievously. Helga noticed his expression and her eyes widened, wary. "Maybe you could help me sometime… Anonymous…"
Helga just about spit out her water all over the table. She coughed, wiping her mouth with her napkin and stammered, "I-I… Wh-what are you talking about?" She laughed nervously, clearing her throat.
"Ya know, I always wondered who wrote all of those poems that Mr. Simmons loved so much," Arnold was on a roll but yet still too nervous to look Helga in the eye. "'The boy with the cornflower hair, my beloved and my despair,'" He quoted. "' Each morn, I see you bend to drink from love's own crystal pool. I tremble near you, try to think. Will I forever say, "You stink"?'" He laughed a little, smiling.
Helga's heart was in her throat and she felt like she could throw up. Oh… my… god…
"How did you…?"
"I saw some of your poetry and recognized the style… those poems…" Arnold was feeling bashful again. "They were about… me, weren't they?"
Helga fanned herself, "Well, I, they… criminy, why is it so hot in here?"
Arnold laughed a little, feeling bold and finally making eye contact. "I could take a guess…"
His eyes were burning, taking her image in, and Helga froze like a deer in the headlights. Her heart was racing and the adrenaline in her system made her want to run out the door.
She breathed a sigh of relief when their waiter, Jacques, appeared, ready to take their orders.
Sheesh, do they only have one waiter in this whole stinkin' restaurant? He's always here.
In a thick French accent, he greeted them, "Good evening, Mademoiselle… Monsieur. Welcome to Le Chez Paris. May I take your order?"
Now that Helga had the opportunity to calm down, she pulled out her menu, ordering first. "Hey there, Jacques. I'll have the… Duck ala orange," She handed him the menu and took a sip of water as Arnold ordered with much better pronunciation.
"The pattie de foie gras, please,"
"Very nice choice," Jacques collected Arnold's menu and left them alone once again.
Arnold watched Helga as she continued to fidget, this time wringing her hands together.
He spoke, "So, no calf brains and eggs this time, Helga?" His smirk reappeared. Teasing Helga was kind of fun.
Helga jumped, knocking her silverware against her glass with a clang. "Criminy! Are you just going to bring up every embarrassing thing you know about me, Football-head? Is that why you brought me here?"
Arnold stifled a chuckle, "No, Helga. I'm sorry. I just wanted to spend time with you," He felt his cheeks turning pink but he smiled. "I have the best of intentions, I promise," He held up his right hand, accompanied by a serious face.
Helga rolled her eyes, "Alright, good,"
Their conversations continued like this even after they received and dug into their food.
Helga picked at remnants on her plate, "Man I'm stuffed,"
"Yeah, me too," Arnold put his napkin on his empty plate and opened the bill Jacques had left on the table. He slipped the cash Grandpa had given him into the little folder and set it back on the edge of the table.
Helga sighed and Arnold couldn't help but feel enamored. If someone had told him six months ago he'd be feeling so entranced by Helga Pataki, he probably would've laughed in their face. But he knew he'd always held a soft spot in his heart for her.
Arnold stood up and took a step to Helga. She watched him with curiosity as he offered her a hand.
"Do you wanna take a walk?"
[A/N: Hope you guys liked that! Let me know what you think! Also, I was wondering: do you guys think I keep them in character enough? Keeping in mind they're two years older now but still, do their personalities seem appropriate? That's something I always try to strive for when I write. Thanks for all of the feedback!]