Chapter 21
The humid October air made her regret not bringing an outer layer, goosebumps turning steps into strides she hurriedly makes her way to the campus library. Helga's eyes water with the windy bite pushing through her hair, thoughts drifting through fog she clutches the few books she couldn't fit in her bag.
'Wandering I am lost, only to travel through rivers unknown.
I only survive because of my pride, my loneliness won't leave me alone.
Perhaps I can pray, oh lord will I pray, that the day will come that I will stop drowning.
Will someone, something, any'
The cold glass stung her fingers as she pushed into the building, briefly snapping her back into reality. Hurrying past the library front desk she doesn't even bother to give her signature snark about her professor Dr. Davis's dapper bow ties. Moving through the halls and corridors almost on autopilot and partially lost, the library was enveloped into a dense fog each wall strengthening the confusion within the concrete maze. After seeing 'Classic Literature' on the book shelves the fog lifted, remembering which place to go in the stacks and why. She trots downstairs where she could tuck herself away into a desk and pulls out her books.
The binding to the old text is leathery and cracked like alligator skin or old beat up luggage, gingerly she opens up trying to minimize how much strain on the spine of the book became necessary. Her pen flows through ideas and concepts facing a simple impasse in the reading from the character's perspective. She relishes in dealing with someone else's problems that have no consequences for a change.
"Did he believe in god or didn't he?" she taps her pen against her head vexed, "One can make the claim that god does or doesn't exist and then it is up to that person to accept or reject that claim. But he didn't once take a position on either claim. God damn! Who'd this guy believe in? Mighty Mouse?! Crimeny!"
Feeling stuck at square one she attempts to walk through an Escher-style conundrum in her mind, only to wind up back at the start with no results only more tired than when she started. Stubborn and filled with resolve in her mind she trudges through to unravel his faux psyche.
After a couple of hours she felt satisfied completing what seemed a daunting task caramel dreams float through her mind, seeking a caffeinated reward for her hard work she makes her way to the café. Her face runs flush after seeing a familiar face with an olive complexion.
"Hey Helga, you holding up okay? I heard about Wolf, I'm sorry I was so blind he's actually up for trial with our frat." His voice was confidant and pensive at the same time.
"Yeah, so were other people bucko and big whoop. Yee haw, justice. Been a rough day and a half, mind if I just get my coffee?" Her voice pleaded tumultuously.
"I get it, time and a place. Listen if you need an ear, I got two. Take it easy." He swipes her card and hands it back to her with a napkin holding his phone number in green marker smiling earnestly.
She rolls her eyes, "Thanks I guess. I'll probably catch you later Greg." She struts out looking back to him making sure he wasn't looking. He just tends to his next patron, she mumbles under her breath "Not a bad dude I guess. There's hope for people yet."
Greg's loving grip clutches her waist, strangling her heart, her mind returns to the frat party.
'Does Greg even look at me like that? Gahhh! Why the fuck was I such a slut? He's a decent dude. Should I apologize? That's just weird, 'hey sorry I fucked you and left wanna be buddies?' Right. That's completely normal.'
"Ughh!" She flicks her bangs from her face tossing her empty container in the can next to her, pondering how to cut things off her eyes melt the plants next her from sheer concentration alone.
"Hey!" the familiar voice yammers enthusiastically.
"Greg? I thought you were working, what the hell are you doing here now?" Her face cocks dumbfoundedly.
"You looked really stressed and it's not busy so I'm taking my lunch. Can I get you something? Gotta warn you there's not much left, some old bento box knockoffs, butter bagels, and a few muffins." His smile as sincere as his hands.
"No, nah. Nah. I'm good Greg, thanks though." Her heart rate begins to pick up
'Be the one. Hold me. Love me like the other night…'
She shakes her head blanking out like an etch-n-sketch resetting, Greg shifts his legs and tries to get comfortable.
"So about the other night, just hear me out…about the other night, I'm a bastard for saying no to you. I should've and I'm sorry. Not even for Wolfgang. For you and for me. I know you had your role to play, I'm just sorry for mine. You don't have to say anything, I wanted to say that much. I was just a moment in your life, but you were a force of nature in mine." His voice melancholy in want.
Helga clenches her jaw pensively, uncertain of the words she was even saying.
"This isn't the time or the place fella. Sorry. I'm damaged goods if you didn't happen to realize already so your best bet is turn tail like every other nimrod and vamoose! Scram! I'm not in any position for relationships committed or physical." Her voice sinks down.
"You're not damaged goods, listen, I'll leave you with that thought and I'll catch you later alright? I gotta get back to work anyways," he hands her a vanilla latte, "any guy would be lucky to love you and if you'd actually show it they'd be lucky to be loved by you."
She felt like a spotlight was drenching her in vulnerability and exposure, her spumoni's scuff the marble tile while hurrying back to the stacks. Her gait a little peppier she slugs down the remaining coffee giving her the energy to dig deep through her emotions for some logic and reasoning. The wood chair felt cold with neglect as she sat in the lobby of the library thinking about what to discuss with Arnold and the mist in front of them.
'Does Arnold need my love? Would he feel lucky?'
Arnold decides on a modern classic on Netflix and blares the martial arts western in the background, the music moving him as he mimics various forms his eyes flare. Pushing through numerous sets of push-ups rain drips from his forehead, shoulders shaking through each set he pictures himself as the oafish protagonist trying to win the heart of his harsh comrade in arms, hoping the next push up gives him a slightly better chance. For what seems like an hour he continues the monotonous grind of push-ups and forms, push-ups and forms until his body pauses like stone. Mind rapt in a simple epiphany.
'I'm here because I love her, not just to be loved by her.'
He snags some loose leaf and a pen and writes feverishly, the paper just one scratch away from catching fire. Sweat drips onto the paper, making the ink bleed through the paper. Each word poured out onto each line with his jaw clenched, the conversation he wanted to have but couldn't be there to do it unraveling on paper. After dotting a few missed "I's" he folds it up and puts the note into his bag satisfied and continues doing push-ups unpausing the movie.
Adjusting the lamp her eyes search for clarity through the oak table sorting out scandalous memories and confusion. A harsh sigh shakes from her throat, she folds her hair from her face tying it into a bun. She pulls out her purple pen and begins thought dumping into the small square book.
'He's a hell of a guy, I'd be dumbass to let myself lose him. He really stood up for me, but what if I fuck up with some nobody like Greg again? Honestly, he's not even my type. God love is so damn inconvenient and tough and amazing. Arnold's worth it. That sap is actually waiting for me. He's almost twenty, we're supposed to break hearts and get broken hearts and learn how to deal with it. Why does he want to get tied down to bad? With me of all people?! I don't know. Maybe start small, just start over but like as a couple start over? I mean aren't we already starting small? FUCKK. Okay. I'm overanalyzing this, he loves me. I love him. Let's go with that and see if it goes the distance.'
Excitedly she packs her books rushing back to her dorm. Her boots clack on the marble flooring echoing sharply urgency in her left foot and confidence in her right foot. Muscling her way through the harsh wind her eyes water from the cold just before getting to her dorm. She fumbles her keys while pressing the elevator door close button caffeine just beginning to ride out of her system, the warm air relaxing her body she feels a comforting tingle on her nose. The elevator doors close and a familiar voice talking sternly on the other side of her door. She listens in gripping her keys tightly, stifling the jingle.
"What do you mean you don't know? I'm fighting this guy in a month! What the hell sir?!" Arnold's voice humid with frustration.
Helga's keys jimmy into the lock clicking roughly through the tumblers, "Hey Arnold, what's up? Everything good?"
He glares at his phone like he was trying to melt it, "Yes and no. Just. AUGH! Goddamn man!"
"Talk to me. What's going on." She throws her bag down and rips her jacket off sitting next to him grabbing his hand.
Arnold breathes deep, his breath anxious, "You know the fight I have next month?"
"Yeah, doi. Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Well my original opponent pulled out and the guy Arnie's been training me for went to waste, my strategy is out the window. I wasted eight weeks for nothing-"
Her voice stern "No you did not. You would have been ready for him, and now you're on the same footing he is at worst. If he turns out like the previous guy, your strategy is on board. If not, take your time and feel him out, fighting has more than one round for a reason. I'm sure you and Arnie can figure something out, until then train your ass off and you can only go in with your chin up. You game or what?"
A toothy grin grows across his face, "Yeah, I'm game. Thanks Helga, I really needed that."
"Don't worry about it hun-" Stone they don't move, Helga clears her throat, "Arnold. I need to talk to you about something. I mean, if you don't mind."
"You called me hun." He responds bluntly.
"Yeah, so? What about it? Wanna go update your blog?" She looks away, "Arnold I wanna to give us a chance-"
"Buuutt?" His voice inquisitive with hope.
Firmly she replies, "No buts. Just that. I want to do this, exclusive."
"You sure?" His eyes looking around the room unsure what's real and what isn't.
"Yeah, I need something like this. Just some stability and calm for a change, just something sure. I want the real thing. I want you. Hell I've wanted you since grade school, I want the knight in shining armor, I want to be treated like I'm delicate, I want to be your girl. I'm just wicked guarded is all."
"I can imagine, I get it. Especially with Wolfgang-"
Her voice tumultuous, "No. No. Wayy before Wolfgang. This started with my sister and my dad a long time ago. If you want me my baggage comes with it, are you sure?"
"Yes. Please, keep going." He adjusts himself sitting Indian-style leaning back bunching up the comforter.
"Alright. I warned you bucko, here goes. So since I was seven or eight I'd been constantly berated for not matching up to Olga or my dad's expectation of who I should become. I would do little things like push them away or shout at them, but eventually that turned into never talking to them about anything serious. Never opening up. Always bottling everything until a boiling point was reached. There'd be shouting matches here and there, but after a while my dad got sick of it and one day he told me to stop yelling at Olga and that I'm an ungrateful, good for nothing bitch,"
Arnold's jaw clenches, fist tightening, Helga pats it and grips firmly, "it already happened hun, there's no changing that fact. What he said afterwards is what really got to me anyways, the other stuff he'd say to Miriam too and honestly never bothered me when he did say it to me. It was when he said 'People get measured every day and people like you, Helga, come up short" was what really got me. It made me feel worthless you know? Empty. I wanted to prove him wrong through my own achievements that I can be someone great, better than Olga even. But no matter what I'm always going to 'come up short.' None of my achievements as a person will measure of to anything of worth. Just nothing, to him I'm going to be nothing. And when he said that, Olga just looked at him and turned away. She just acted like nothing happened after the fact. She's so fucking fake. Her smile, her love, everything about her is a lie, just like my parent's marriage!" black drops course down her cheeks, Arnold gives her a tissue to clean up.
"I'm so sorry. You're more than that, but I want you to prove that to yourself. Me saying it isn't going to be enough, I'm not going to be the one to make you whole. Your own family gutted you of your worth, you've got to get that back, you have to make yourself whole again. No one can do that, and when you get it back don't let anyone take it from you. Grandma told me that the even the best of us have a little to offer, to make that precious inch stretch a mile, to spread our greatness in order to make it grow. I know I'm sounding eight flavors of cheesy right now but I promise you that this is truer than you could imagine."
Their pause vexing conversation, Helga breaks the spell laying her head on Arnold's lap. He runs his fingers through her hair finding solace.
"I-"
"I-"
He laughs, "Sorry you first."
She wipes her eyes, "Please, you."
"I love you Helga."
She smiles, "I love you Arnold. Thank you for this, I've never had something like this before." She wipes tears on his pant leg.
"I should probably bottle these badboys, I'm sure I could sell these on the black market as a cure for depression or maybe as a potent venom…" His voice low but playful.
"Shut up asshat! If I'm not making money, no one is!" She wipes the remaining on his pant leg, around her eye becoming pink and raw. "Seriously though. Thank you."
"Of course, I'd do anythin-" he pauses then looks her in the eye, "I'd do just about anything for you."
"AH! Bullshit! You'd do anything, now it's I'd do just about anything?! What do I have to do make you sign a contract or something?"
They both laugh until tears develop on Helga's cheek Arnold holds her close wrapping around her, her head resting on his shoulder. He could feel the warm fluid through his shirt until she fell asleep. He kisses her on the head and gets comfortable drifting off with her catching up with her dream.