The Compromise:

Chapter 23: Because It's the Only Way

"And always remember, students, school spirit is the most contagious spirit one can hope to acquire while you attend. So take advantage of it, and spread it. Spread your school spirit."

"If this guy says 'school spirit' one more time, I think I'm gonna hurl." Leslie said, taking a seat next to Arnold, but acknowledging none of the people whom she was seated next to. Lila was used to it, and merely raised an eyebrow at the brunette.

"Why are you so late?" she asked, leaning over Helga to address Leslie.

"I had stuff to do. Plus, this costume is completely whack." she remarked, smirking. "Let me guess, more of your sorry aunt's hand-me-downs?" she asked Helga. Each one of the dancers was dressed almost identically, wearing cobalt blue track jackets, with a white stripe across the torso and down the sleeves. The girls wore shorts, ones that Leslie demanded be shorter. Helga appeased her and the girl's shorts were microscopic, whereas the boy's just wore long sweatpants of the same material of the track jackets.

Leslie leaned forward a bit more when Helga continued staring forward, not opening her mouth to respond. "What's with you, Pataki?"

"She's not going to say anything. She's in her zone." Lila said, smiling. Regardless of what happened before a performance, Lila was confident that Helga would always dance to the best of her ability. If things were alright prior to a show, Helga was great, and when things weren't, she'd escape for a few brief minutes into her "zone", and she'd perform even better. Although she didn't like seeing Helga distressed (especially over a guy), she knew that in the end, Helga would ultimately be proud of her performance, and possibly beat Derek over the head with something blunt and heavy.

Arnold listened intently, but knew better than to speak. At present, Helga probably wasn't happy with Derek, and quite possibly the rest of the male population of the planet. In turn, he sat quietly, going over the recently taught moves in his head. Arnold wasn't sure what prompted him to take Lila up on her offer to join the rag-tag group of "dancers", but he did. Ignoring the nagging voice in his head, that, in addition to sounding a lot like Gerald, told him that the reason behind his sudden interest in this riot of sorts was sitting right next to him, Arnold looked up from his lap when the lights overhead went out. The four large lights that illuminated the stands and part of the field stayed on, but in an instant, the audience went into a frenzy. He was just thankful that no one was attempting to flee…yet.

Looking to his side, he saw Helga rise and zip up her jacket, still staring forward. Now, instead of a blank face, she wore a smirk; the kind that diabolical cartoon villains get when their plans work out exactly as they expected.

"Let's go." she said, advancing down the bleacher steps.

"What on earth is going on?"

The wrinkle over the vice principal's brow was deep and menacing, as he focused his attention on the field, which was still illuminated. The teachers that were scattered about amongst the crowds were attempting to calm people down and keep them in their seats, which was, surprisingly, working. The crowds stayed in place, but his temper continued to escalate.

"Well, what is the meaning of this?!" he fumed, turning on the faculty that was seated near him. As an administrator who had little contact with the actual student body, he hoped that some of the faculty would know what was happening. The teachers began turning on one another, while one sat quietly, nervously watching as a group of students made their way out to the field.

Mrs. Rosso held her breath, and did all that she could do from her vantage point.

She hoped for the best.

"Are you alright?" Arnold asked, latching onto Helga's arm before she could go out onto the field with the rest of the students in their troupe. The look on her face was pure determination, but Arnold knew Helga better than to judge her moods by one look. She was known to wear multiple masks at one time, and he was certain that the one under her current was not as hard.

"I'm fine. I'm ready to go." she said, pulling him toward the greenery of the football field. Stepping on the grass was exhilarating and Helga immediately left her sour mood behind, and kept her eyes away from the third set of bleachers. Nodding to Eugene, who sat high in the commentator's stand Helga anticipated the start of the music.

Once the bass took over the area of the bleachers, and reached the field, the dancers began moving in unison. Before the music started, they were all kneeling on the moist grass in two rows of about fifteen students each, and began moving slowly to a standing position. Once they all stood, they transitioned into their first formation; with girls in front of the guys, even though they wouldn't be partnering up.

I've had a little bit too much

All of the people start to rush (Start to rush by)

A dizzy twister dance

Can't find my drink or man

Where are my keys,

I lost my phone

Because of the level of the dancers, everyone in the Dance Company agreed that the number would be made up, primarily of sharp, consistent hand movements, and clean, smooth transitions. All three of the co-captains wanted nothing more than to wow the crowd with an impressive and stunt-filled routine, but they decided to save such theatrics for another show, in hopes that they'd be able to save the company.

What's going on on the floor?

I love this record, baby,

But I can't see straight anymore

Keep it cool; what's the name of this song?

I can't remember, but it's alright, alright…

At the entrance of the chorus, the girls move left, while the boys stayed in place, visually doubling the size of their squad. Bent at the waist, the troupe stood up immediately, with the dance company members hitting their back hand springs without any problems. They fell back into sync with the rest of the dancers and took their place in front of their male dance partners to begin the second portion of their dance.

Mrs. Rosso stared gleefully at the field, watching th dancers, and in particularly, her Dance Company, entertain and amaze the crowd before them. A few of her fellow teachers were enthralled as well, murmuring amongst themselves about the 'impromptu dance show'; clearly impressed with the performance, thus far.

She, and none of her colleagues, however, seemed to notice the irate vice principal, slipping stealthily from the group. Descending a few steps, he weaved his way to the control center for the field, located just under the bleachers. The power box controlled nearly every aspect of the field, except, of course, the lights over the field. He surmised that whoever threw this ridiculous excuse for a revolt together must have known this.

Reading over the labels above each individual switch, Mr. Mason smiled as he read the last one.

Without hesitation, he flipped the toggle upwards, and watched as the red light next to it beeped thrice, and then flashed green.

In less than ten seconds, the sprinklers surrounding the field would come on.

What's going on on the floor?

I love this record, baby,

But I can't see straight anymore

Keep it cool; what's the name of this song?

I can't remember, but it's alright, alright…

Even though Helga was partnered with a junior from the Korean Club named Evan, she still made sure to keep an eye on Arnold for most of the number. He joined the group later than anyone, and though she never doubted his athleticism or skill level, she felt herself drawn to him, more often than not. She denied (to herself at least) that she wanted Arnold to be her partner, even before she saw who Derek showed up at the game with. She couldn't explain it, but as she whipped and whirled and danced around Even, she couldn't help but imagine that he was Arnold.

Just dance, gonna be okay

Da-doo-doo-doo

Just dance, spin that record babe

Da-doo-doo-doo

Just dance, gonna be okay

Duh-duh-duh-duh Dance, dance, dance

Ju-ju-ju-just dance

From the left of the field, Helga heard a shriek and continued dancing, but directed her gaze to the sound of the scream. One by one, shoots of mist were coming up from the ground, starting from the far corner of the field, one by one. Each spray of water created an arch and drenched the crowd, the football players sitting along the side and, most importantly, the dancers on the field. Helga was instantly confused, and the troupe thrown into a panic. Girls were screaming and shrieking, and the boys were mostly…confused. Looking around, Helga's eyes focused on a smug looking Mr. Mason, who was calmly walking back to his seat in the faculty area of the bleachers. She had no proof, but something told her that he was entirely behind this.

The cheerleaders and football players alongside the bleachers looked upset; they, and most of the crowd seemed to be enjoying the show and were clearly impressed with the hard work that they put behind it. Before she knew what she was doing, Helga ditched Evan (most of the girls had already broken off into small groups to whine and squeal about being soaked together), and walked toward the cheerleaders, silently pleading with them. Taking their mega horn she winced at the feedback that it offered her as she shouted into it.

"Hey!" she panted into the megaphone, drawing the attention of the crowd. She was aware that she didn't really need the megaphone, she was sopping wet, in a bright blue sweat suit, dancing on the field. People were bound to stare with or without the amplifying device. "Where's your school spirit?!" she asked, dumbfounded at her own words. She expected, in an instant, for the music to deaden, and the crowd to stare at her like she was growing an extra head.

She was, however, even more surprised when the crowd let out a cry and surged forward, releasing themselves from the bleachers and flooding the field. No one seemed to care that the sprinklers were still on, or that the music could barely be heard above the yell of the crowd. Football players were shedding their armor and cheerleaders their pom-poms, all to dance on the field. Undoubtedly, the last portion of the routine would never be seen, at least not in the same venue. Regardless, as Helga watched her peers dance upon the field, she couldn't help but feel like something was accomplished that night.

After the news that certain clubs and organizations were being dismantled because of lack of funds, whereas others were flourishing, the school was divided. The kids with the proper amount of funds were not shy about reminding others, namely those who were struggling to keep their's alive, what they were lacking. Helga even saw the divide go as far as breaking up friendships, something she didn't expect. When she asked Derek if he was going to encourage his teammates to attend, he was shy to tell her that he couldn't When she asked why, his answer angered her, and she realized how far the divide happened to reach.

"You know I can't incite the guys to help out with something like that. Plus, we have our money…"

Helga shook herself out of her reverie as Lila, her dark-red/brown hair sticking to her face and back, waved her over. Helga reentered the spray of water to find her classmates having an all-out dance party, despite the mud forming beneath them.

"You should be very proud of yourself, Helga Pataki…" came a voice in her ear, the second that she found herself surrounded by the crowd. Helga whirled around in the tightly packed crowd, and smiled when she saw that it was Arnold standing over her. His wet,. Blonde hair fell over his face, and her first impulse was to reach forward and brush it away. Instead, she tucked her own hair out of her face and let an awkward grin fall into place.

"Should I really?' she asked. Before Arnold could respond, the lights over the bleachers were back on (revealing four sets of very empty seating) and the vice principal was back at his seat, with a microphone in hand.

"Will the organizers of this…display, report step forward immediately. Everyone else…back to the bleachers."

Helga found Lila and Leslie among the suddenly still crowd and noticed the look of worry on each of their faces. They were all thinking the same thing. Either their plan worked, or they were in deeper than they imagined.

"What is the meaning of this…this….travesty?!" Mason said, his face reddening as he addressed Helga, Lila and Leslie. The three were the only three people left on the field, wrapped in soft white towels, currently being yelled at, through a microphone by the vice principal of the school.

"You three arranged to hold up the most important game of the season- one that a number of our most prestigious alumnus-"

Helga raised her hand. "Um, excuse me, sir. I believe what you meant was 'alumni and alumnae'."

"Pardon me, young lady?"

"Well, alumnus is the singular definition for a male graduate of an institution, and a female graduate is referred to as an 'alumna'. Now, some schools prefer to use 'almuni' to refer to both their male and female graduates, while others have objected to this, since 'alumni' is technically the plural form of the masculine 'alumnus'. At the same time, these terms would preserve their Latin plurals, making-"

"Enough!" Mason said, loudly interrupting Helga's English lesson. Helga stood up a little straighter and stepped back into line. "What you girls did was nothing short of an abomination! You've thoroughly embarrassed this school, your instructors, and yourself!"

Coming up behind him was Rosso, dressed in the school colors and looking peeved. None of the girls could tell if she was upset at them or at Mr. Mason. When she tapped on his shoulder and snatched the microphone from him, their questions were answered.

"Excuse me, Vice Principal Mason, but these girls have done nothing of the sort. And I stand by that." she said, looking up at the taller, gray-haired man.

"What are you talking about? They're dancing around on a bloody football field!" he argued.

"It's not about where you dance, it's that you dance." Rosso said, reciting her favorite old mantra. "And besides, they've made a statement. One that this school should be proud of."

"And what statement would that be?" he asked smugly. "Inciting riots and planning ridiculous revolts?"

"Mr. Mason…" Rosso began refusing to let their difference in height give him any sort of advantage in their dispute, which was becoming rather public, due to the microphone. "If you actually spoke to the students over which you serve, you'd realize the hard work that they put into their separate clubs and organizations, and maybe then, you wouldn't be so quick to dismantle them.

In an instant chatter arose in the stands, between the adults and a few students. Most parents and 'alumni' had no idea that a large portions of the school's extracurricular were undergoing such drastic cutbacks. In response, Mr. Mason stuttered something into the microphone that Rosso held up to his mouth, while she wore a smile. If most of the school wasn't aware of what he was doing, they were now.

A woman began walking toward the dance teacher and vice principal, her age apparent by her struggled gait, but none of this took away from her class. Her face was hardened from old age, but she was thin, her dark blue dress coat wrapped tightly around her. Her white head of hair and string of pearls instantly commanded the attention of al around her.

"Breaking down a dance company? Well, we can't have that…" Caroline Henrietta said, putting a hand on the shoulder of Mrs. Rosso. "Why, Mr. Mason, I had no idea this school was having such a severe issue with donations. If that were the case, I'm sure my fellow alumni would be happy to help. At present, my funds are split between Hillwood, the school of my youth, and a school that now supports members my own family. Regardless, I intend to do something about this immediately."

Mason continued to trip over his words, looking from Mrs. Ross to Mrs. Henrietta, to the students around him and to the dancers on the field, literally feeling each pair of eyes upon him.

"Mrs. Henrietta, you must understand, we have groups that could put to use better-"

"Maybe, Mr. Mason," she began, pulling the device closer to her mouth and leaving Mrs. Rosso as little more than a mic stand. "That you should let those donating decide to where their money goes, and from there, support your clubs. It's a shame, your students have to teach you the value of diversity…" she said, scoldingly.

Mrs. Rosso, on the other hand, looked both proud and awkward, discreetly ushering the girls to the side of the field as she slipped away from the administrator and the crowds of parents that were currently descending upon him.

Once she made her way down the bleachers and approached the three wet teenagers before her, a stern look in her eyes. "I'm going to help straighten this out. You three," she said, taking a moment to look at them each, one by one. "I want you changed and in the studio. Now."

"We're screwed."

"We're not screwed, Lila." Helga said, running an already damp towel over her hair.

"Oh, yes we are. Since when does Rosso point us in the direction of the dance studio without us being in trouble?" she asked, hopping around on the cold linoleum of the locker room. One of the janitors was kind enough to unlock it and the studio for them, but only a few lights were on, casting most of the area in shadows.

"The Airhead has a point." Leslie said, already dressed and seated on a wooden bench. "If I know anything, we're all going to get a firm talking to, and probably suspended for interrupting the game."

"Hello?" Helga asked, shutting her locker. "Am I the only one who thinks that tonight was a total success?"

Lila and Leslie traded looks and then turned back to Helga. In unison, they answered, "Yes."

Helga sighed. "Okay, so maybe it wasn't a total success. But we certainly got people's attention, which was the main objective, ad now more people are aware of what the administration is doing. And we just engaged 34 percent of the student population to rave and dance on the football field! That's something!"

Leslie scratched her head, the look of boredom never quite leaving her face. "Yeah, whatever."

"I see your point, Helga." Lila said, trying to sound a bit more enthusiastic. "But, we still don't know what kind of impact we made on the alum…alumi…the old people who used to go to the school. They could share the same thoughts as Mason, for all we know."

Helga shrugged, and decided that it was better to face their fate sooner rather than later. Lacing up her shoes, she exited the locker room, ready to face the wrath of her coach.

It seemed though that she would have to face the Devil first.

"Hi, Helga." Viola said, in a sickeningly high voice that Helga surmised could only come to use if one had some glass that needed to be shattered.

"Hi?" Helga said, confused as to why Viola was standing outside of her locker room, and why she was still there. The game ended not long ago, the last half seeming to whiz by, and most of the patrons were already on their way home. "What are you doing here?" she asked defensively.

"I wanted to talk to you, of course." she said, as if they were really old friends and not old rivals.

"Okay…"

"I just wanted to say that I'm totally impressed with what you did out there today. Helping all those clubs and stuff. You know, since your school is too poor to support all of them. That's so noble of you." she said, still smiling. Helga looked for a hint of sarcasm that usually came with any and everything that Viola said, but found only the corners of her mouth turned up in a very strained smile. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I'm having a party at my house tonight. You can invite some of your friends too."

Helga was again, taken aback. "Umm…I don't know."

"Well, think about it. See you later." she said, wiggling her fingers and turned to walk down the hall. Helga didn't miss the sly smirk hidden just behind her Ronald McDonald hair as she turned away from her. She wondered briefly why Viola would even pretend to be nice to her, but the connection was clear. Helga and Viola had never shared a stage, or dance teachers. The two didn't so much as try out for the same parts in dance competitions.

But, despite the lapse in time, they did share a boyfriend.

"Let me first start out by saying that I am very, very disappointed in you three. I specifically asked you girls to keep the termination of out Dance Company under wraps, and you couldn't even do that. Not to mention, you incited your fellow company members and a slew of other students into staging a revolt during a game attended by numerous and influential patrons of this school. I had to spend most of the game explaining to them that you girls are not clinically insane, although I'm not whether or not I believe it myself."

Rosso paced in front of Leslie, Lila and Helga, who were instructed to take a seat before her desk. Each girl looked away or at the floor; anywhere but at the disgruntled instructor before them. Rosso was not happy, and this escaped the notice of no one.

"What was hardest to convince my peers," she continued. "Was that I had no hand in arranging this routine."

Instead of a spoken response, Rosso was met with three very confused faces.

"Most people could barely believe that three girls, who supposedly hate each other, managed to rally peers for a common cause. They were thoroughly impressed. As was I." she finished, smiling.

"But you just said you were disappointed in us." Lila said, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

"I am, in some respects. But, at the same time, I'm amazed that you three came together, especially despite your differences, and made such a huge impact.

"Girls, I daresay…you've saved us."

Each captain looked at each other and Rosso wide eyed, before leaping from their seats and attacking their teacher with questions.

"What'd they say?"

"How much are we getting?"

"What do you mean, 'saved'?"

Holding up her hands to quell the girlish screaming, Rosso spoke again. "You will all find out on Monday. Now, go on, have a good weekend, you deserve it."

All three girls left the dance studio in better spirits than they arrived, and anticipated the weekend ahead of them. Helga, on the other hand had one more obstacle to overcome.

And it came in the form of Derek and Viola chatting it up next to his car.

A horrible chapter, I know, I know. Moving on…

Expect Chapter 25 soon. That is all.

-Pointy_Objects