A/N: Thanks for all of the great reviews they were all greatly appreciated. Feedback and suggestions are encouraged, but don't be too harsh.
Anonymous reviews are accepted – so therefore no one feels outcasted.
I own none of the characters (except for Sandrine Mortimer and Mr. Dale Bryan Dimmetry) – for they are all from the mind of the genius that is Craig Bartlett, his team, and nickelodeon. No copyright infringements intended.
As always, thoughts are emphasized through the use of italics.
…
Junior Year – February
…
"So when did Olga say she'll be back?" Nadine questioned from her spot on the floor as Phoebe braided her hair.
"She'll be back in three days," Helga informed as she handed Sheena a can of pop.
"Where did she go?" Patty questioned as she took a sip of her sweet tea.
"Australia," Helga informed.
"Wow," Katrinka breathed, "I've always wanted to go there."
The doorbell rang suddenly as everyone looked at Helga expectantly.
"That must be the locksmith," Helga informed as she got up from her spot in the living room, "I'll be right back."
Helga trekked down the hallway of her house and towards her front door; she flung it open hastily, only to be faced by a burly looking man. Half of his face was covered by the cap he wore; which shielded his eyes and nose. The only thing Helga could see was his mouth and strong chin.
"My name's Tim," he informed as he pointed to the name tag he was wearing, "I'm here to change the locks," he informed shortly.
Helga looked at him uneasily, "Uh…yeah – well we only need the front door and the backdoor to be changed," Helga informed as she guided him into the house, "here's the backdoor, and …uh you know where the front door is."
The man nodded as Helga walked away reluctantly. She returned to the living room in time to find everyone but Phoebe ready to leave.
"See you later Helga," the girls announced as they all made their way towards the front entrance of the house, giggling and chatting as they went.
Helga and Phoebe bided them goodbye as they left.
"The locksmith here?" Phoebe questioned as she followed Helga into the kitchen.
Helga nodded, "Um…yeah – he's fixing the backdoor as we speak."
Phoebe nodded, "I was actually planning on going out with Gerald later. You could join us if you want."
"No, that's alright," Helga stated defensively, "I don't feel like being the third wheel."
Phoebe laughed lightly, as she excused herself to get ready upstairs.
Helga smiled easily as she grabbed her Math textbook and decided to use the time to start some homework.
She had been so immersed in the material she was working on that she had completely forgotten about the locksmith.
His sudden presence near the kitchen table caused her to jump out of her skin.
"Sorry," he chuckled, "didn't mean to frighten you…I'm finished with the backdoor."
Helga nodded uneasily, "um…okay."
"The front door shouldn't take too long," he informed, "so your total for both doors will be sixty five dollars and eighty five cents."
Helga nodded, "I'll just go get that for you," Helga replied quickly as she bolted from the kitchen. That man gives me the creeps.
Helga ran upstairs and into her room to grab the money needed. She proceeded down the stairs, only to be met by Phoebe falling into step with her.
"Is he done already," Phoebe questioned as she tied her hair into a ponytail.
"Should be about," Helga informed as they both made their way towards Tim.
Tim got up quickly from his position near the door just as both girls approached him.
"Finished," Helga questioned as he nodded.
Helga handed him the money, "Thank you."
"You girls have a good night," he replied quickly as he left.
Helga nodded as she watched him leave, cautiously. She took a step out onto her stoop and sat down on a step.
Phoebe looked down at her worriedly.
"What's wrong?" Helga questioned as she eyed her best friend.
"Uh…nothing," Phoebe stated quickly, waving a hand dismissively, "it's just that …didn't that guy seem almost creepy."
"Almost?" Helga stated questioningly, "he was full on creepy."
"Umm…maybe I should call Gerald and cancel," Phoebe replied airily, "I don't want to-"
"Go!" Helga interrupted, "I'll be fine."
Phoebe took a step onto the stoop and took a seat beside Helga.
"Are you sure," she persisted.
"Phoebe! … I am not some broken doll," Helga whined.
"Alright," Phoebe stated brightly, "I'll be home around ten."
Helga smirked, "I'm not your mom – you have no curfew with me."
Phoebe swatted her playfully in the arm, just as Gerald pulled up in his car honking manically.
"That's your cue," Helga informed as she ushered her towards Gerald.
"You sure you don't want to come?" Phoebe questioned.
"Go," Helga commanded as she got up from her spot on the stoop, "I'll see you later."
Phoebe waved goodbye as Helga slammed the door shut behind her quickly.
…
"Hey short man," Phil greeted as he entered his grandson's bedroom, "Watchya doin tonight? No hot date?"
Arnold laughed easily, "not tonight Grandpa."
Phil huffed, "In my day I was surrounded by beautiful ladies," he boasted, "had to pry them off by the dozens…of course my heart and eyes belonged to only one..."
"Grandma," Arnold stated knowingly.
Grandpa nodded sadly.
"How's she doing today," Arnold questioned as he eyed his grandfather.
Phil took a shaky breath, "Today she doesn't even remember what her name is."
Arnold looked at him glumly, "did you read her the book?"
Phil shook his head sadly, "I didn't even get the chance. She was hyperventilating so the doctors asked me to leave."
Arnold's head fell sadly, as Phil cleared his throat uncomfortably, "So...
Uh …What…what's going on with you and your little friend who used to have the one eyebrow?"
Arnold looked at him taken aback.
"I'm your grandfather," Phil explained, "I know these things."
"There's nothing going on," Arnold replied shortly, "she…she just wants to be friends…"
"And what do you want," Phil questioned.
"I like her grandpa," Arnold stated quietly.
"Then go and get her," Phil stated simply with a nudge.
Arnold looked at him confused.
"Go and get her," Phil repeated as he got up from Arnold's bed and ruffled his grandson's hair.
Arnold looked at him perplexed as he left his room.
…
Helga hummed to herself as she washed her dish in the sink. Nothing like frozen dinners, she thought to herself smugly.
She rested the plate gingerly onto the dish stand as she rummaged through a drawer for a cloth to dry it with.
Her search was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing.
She trekked over to her living room and picked up the phone, "Hello."
"Hi," a deep voice responded on the other line.
Helga frowned, "can I help you?"
"Is Sarah there?" the voice questioned.
"I think you've got the wrong number," Helga informed airily.
"Are you sure," the voice persisted.
"Yes," Helga stated annoyed, "bye," she bided as she hung up the phone.
Helga journeyed back towards her kitchen in search of the dishcloth.
…
"How do you like the lobster," Gerald questioned as Phoebe beamed at him.
"Gerald this really wasn't necessary," Phoebe gushed, "I would have been happy just eating burgers and fries."
Gerald smiled, "Yeah…well I wanted to do something really special for you," he informed.
Phoebe smiled, "Gerald I don't need expensive gifts or grande gestures or reservations at Chez Paris – I just want to spend time with you – that's what makes me happy."
Gerald grabbed her hand tentatively from across the table, "I love you," he stated simply.
Phoebe smiled back at him, "I love you too."
…
Helga had finally found her dishcloth only to be interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing once again. She huffed in annoyance as she made her way towards the living room. She picked up the phone hastily, "Hello?"
"Is Sarah there," the familiar deep voice beckoned once again.
"You've already called here?" Helga replied uneasily.
"Are you sure?" the voice questioned.
"Of course I'm sure," Helga replied annoyed.
There was a long pause; Helga waited a few more seconds before deciding to hang up.
"Wait," the voice ordered, causing Helga to put the receiver back towards her ears.
"What?" she exclaimed apprehensively.
"Are you alone?" the voice questioned.
Helga froze.
"Hello?" the voice questioned.
"Harold is that you?" Helga questioned exasperatedly.
Click.
Helga looked at the phone dumbfounded, What the hell!
She quickly dialed a number and waited.
"Hello?" Harold voice answered on the other line.
"Listen geek bait," Helga threatened, "What kind of sick game do you think you're playing by freaking me out like that?"
"Helga what are you talking about?" Harold questioned confused.
"The prank calls," Helga yelled threateningly.
"Helga I have no idea wha-"
Helga looked at her phone confused, "Hello!...Harold?...Hello?"
She looked down at the base unit of the phone and realized that the line was dead, "stupid piece of junk," she muttered as she left her living room and proceeded back towards the kitchen.
She dried her dishes and glanced around the kitchen awkwardly, "I was sure I left my cell phone on the counter…"
…
Curly smiled happily as he handed the courier the box of expensive Swiss Chocolates. It had taken him nearly three weeks to find the delicacy that Rhonda adored, but he found it.
"Deliver it to Ms. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd," he instructed.
Rhonda can't stay mad at me forever. In no time we'll be back to being a happy couple.
…
Helga collapsed onto her couch in defeat. She had ransacked the entire house twice, and could not locate her cell phone. Where the hell could it be!
She huffed in anger and crossed her arms across her chest dramatically, just as the power in the house went out. Helga straightened up from her position on the couch in shock. What the hell is going on?
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of her cell phone ringing.
Helga followed the noise, as she fumbled through the darkness as she made her way into the kitchen.
She glanced around until she could vaguely make out the faint light radiating from her phone. She ran over to the kitchen counter and quickly picked it up. I'm positive that I searched for it here earlier?
"Hello?" Helga answered.
"Hello," a friendly voice chirped, "my name is Sandra Dee."
"Okay?..." Helga stated unsure.
"I'm from the locksmith company," Sandra informed, "I spoke to an Olga Pataki a few days ago…she said that if we had any problems, that we should call a Helga Pataki at this number."
"Alright…".
"Well you must already know why I'm calling," Sandra continued, "given that nobody dropped by today to fix your locks."
"What?" Helga asked confused.
"We had a man named Tim scheduled to come by this afternoon," Sandra continued, "but his mother passed away suddenly last night, and we didn't find out until later this afternoon that he would not be able to do any of his jobs."
Helga froze, "What do you mean he couldn't?"
"He had to fly out of the country suddenly for his mother's funeral," Sandra explained, "Sorry for the inconvenience," she apologized as she hung up the phone.
Helga looked at her cell phone in shock, If Tim couldn't make it…then who came here earlier!
Helga ran towards her front door and struggled with the knob, "What the hell," she screamed as the door refused to open.
"It opens from the outside," a voice bellowed from behind her.
Helga spun around to find the burly looking locksmith from earlier, standing meters away from her in her hallway.
"And you'll need this to open it from the outside," he informed as he motioned to the key in his hand.
Helga looked at him confused as she fiddled with the numbers of her cell phone behind her back.
The man however closed in on her quickly and yanked the phone away from her hand.
"Now Helga," he threatened, "that wasn't a very wise thing to do!"
He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped upon it menacingly; breaking it.
Helga kneed him in the groin as he tumbled towards the ground in pain; she used this as an opportunity to get away.
He however grabbed her by the leg, and pulled her towards him. Her body hit the floor with a thud, as he dragged her closer towards him.
"What do you want," Helga screamed as 'Tim' pulled out a pocket knife from his pocket and pressed it violently close to her throat.
"Revenge," he stated simply, as Helga struggled against his grasp.
Helga looked at him dumbfounded, "I-I…I don't understand," she stated terrified.
"Tim" pulled the hat he was wearing off of his head, and Helga gasped.
"Why so scared," he teased bitterly, "I thought you'd be happy to see you're old buddy Scheck."
…
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