February 12, 2016

Walkerville High Gymnasium

3:01 P.M.

The end of the school day on Friday afternoon was usually a time to be celebrated above all else. As Arnold made his way through the endless maze of corridors in Walkerville High that afternoon, though, he struggled to keep his own irritation at bay. While he normally could excuse the meandering classmates that got in his way as they strolled to the exit, his nerves had been on high alert all day. Staying late after school was a pain at the best of times; today, the simple thought had his stomach twisting.

He'd hoped that once he entered the cafeteria and seen preparations for the dance that evening were well underway, he would finally be able to relax a little. Instead, the sight of his cousin locking lips with his friend was all waiting to greet him; it was far from the assurance he'd been hoping for. With nerves now thoroughly frayed, Arnold loudly cleared his throat.

Tim and Janet pulled apart from one another, the former gasping for breath as he did. "Oh, uh… Hey, Arn-"

"There's no time for 'hey, Arn," Arnold shot back coarsely. He dropped a heavy box of decorations on the nearest lunch table, the cardboard landing on the surface with a deep thud, and began removing piles of garland, lights, and other miscellaneous accessories. "The Valentine's Day dance starts in four hours, and we need to get the entire room ready by then!"

Janet rolled her eyes. Her cousin was always far too tightly wound for her tastes. "If it's so important, why didn't you think to recruit a few more volunteers to your task force?"

Arnold didn't even glance in her direction as he replied. "Because high schoolers are idiots, and I don't trust them with work this important."

"Right. Because we all know how crucial high school dances are to life as we know it." Janet crossed her arms. "Jeez, cousin, you didn't see me freaking out about this kind of thing when I was class president, did you?"

"This isn't a student council thing, Janet. It's an 'I have pride in my school thing.' Okay?"

Tim chuckled. "Do you have pride in your school?"

Arnold narrowed his eyes at the couple. "Look, are you guys going to help me or not?"

With a sigh, Tim and Janet joined Arnold at the lunch table, admiring the decorations the boy lay out. "Of course, we'll help. We just don't get what has you so tightly wound."

Arnold's shoulders relaxed as Janet and Tim began to untangle a mass of fairy lights; he knew he'd need all the help he could get. "I just want this dance to be good. I've even made sure Wanda won't try to sabotage the event."

"How'd you manage that?"

February 12, 2016

Arnold's Basement

3:04 P.M.

"Let me out!" Wanda cried desperately, frantically knocking over everything in the coat closet not nailed to the ground. "I want a lawyer!"

Outside of the locked closet door, Ralphie and Carlos could only just make out their friend's dismal pleas. Proudly, the boy's exchanged a high five. "Can't sabotage a dance if you're locked in a closet," Ralphie commented with a grin.

Carlos nodded. "And you can't pick the closet lock if your tied up in a Chinese finger trap."

"This is racism!" Wanda shouted. The pleas were in vain, certainly, but the girl wasn't about to be taken down without making a fuss."

Ralphie giggled. "I don't know how you convinced her to stick all of her fingers in those traps, but that was genius."

"I have my moments."

Content with their work, the boys turned their attention back to their game of Mario Party, deaf to the cries of their captured friend.

February 12, 2016

Walkerville High Cafeteria

3:05 P.M.

"Don't worry about it," Arnold assured casually. Paying off Carlos and Ralphie was an unfortunate expense, but the school's dance budget had more than covered the bribe. He was certain they wouldn't be seeing the girl for at least several more hours. "Just focus on those lights, okay?"

Tim and Janet shrugged and resumed their work. Arnold could be a pain when he was in one of his more uptight moods; better to focus on his orders as they came in than push on the topic of Wanda any longer.

One thing was for sure, though – they were in for a long afternoon. Why had they ever agreed to help the boy out?

February 12, 2016

Keesha's Bedroom

3:08 P.M.

DA dug through the drawer in Keesha's vanity eagerly, her eyes lighting up at every new discovery she made. "Why didn't you tell me you had such great make up in here?"

Keesha lay back on her bed, an amused grin crossing her lips. "I didn't think you'd care. Never had you pegged as the girly-girl type, DA."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to look nice for the dance." DA picked up an unopened tube of lipstick and peered at the label. "Pheebs, this one would look so nice on you."

Phoebe remained firmly seated in her spot beside Keesha's bed, shaking her head adamantly. "I try to stay away from make-up," she replied. "I never know which brands might test on animals."

Keesha raised a brow. "Can't you look up that kind of information online?"

"Probably," Phoebe shrugged. "But I've never gotten around to it, so…"

"Fine, no lipstick." DA dropped the tube back into the drawer and continued her rummaging. "Ugh, I have no idea what you're meant to wear to something like this. What're you going to wear, Keesha?"

"I'm not going."

At those words, DA and Phoebe both spun to their friend, eyes wide and mouths agape. Keesha sat up at the sudden motion, alarmed. "What?"

"You have to go!" DA cried. She rushed to the end of the bed and sat beside Keesha. "You can't leave me to babysit everyone else all night!"

Phoebe nodded, crawling to Keesha's other side. "It's always better when we all go to these things together!"

Keesha pushed herself off of the mattress, throwing up her hands. "No way! I'm not spending the evening at some Valentine's dance – and definitely not with Ralphie!"

DA cocked her head. "I thought you guys were on good terms."

"Doesn't mean it wouldn't be awkward as hell." Keesha put her hands on her hips. "You guys can go have the night of your lives, but leave me out of it, got it?"

Phoebe and DA glanced to one another sadly. Neither had anticipated the strong reaction from the girl, but she sounded pretty adamant in her stance on the matter. There would be no changing her mind on this matter.

February 12, 2016

Walkerville High Cafeteria

3:52 P.M.

"What are you doing? You can't have the string lights crossing each other like that! They need to be evenly spaced and running parallel to get the best effect!"

Janet dropped the string of lights she and Tim had been hanging, irritation sparking in her eyes. Arnold had spent the last hour micromanaging every detail of the dance décor, and his constant corrections were making it difficult for the group to make any progress in their work. Up until now, she and Tim had managed to bite their tongues, but Janet had spent the last of her patience. "If you're such an expert, why are Tim and I even here? We have better things we could be doing, you know."

If Arnold was taken aback by the quip, his stern expression didn't let on. He snatched the lights from the ground and began correcting the string tersely. "I thought you might actually want the dance to look good. My mistake."

Seeing Janet now fuming, Tim cut into the conversation. "We want to help," he explained calmly, doing his best to defuse the tense discussion. While an annoyed Arnold was manageable, the last thing he wanted was a raging Janet by his side – that was sure to end badly for all involved. "You just seem a bit on edge."

"A bit?" Janet spat bitterly. Tim placed a hand on her shoulder, and, with a sigh, she quieted down.

Arnold, on the other hand, remained just as firm. "Like I said: I want the dance to be good. We have to do this right."

"It's just some high school dance, Arn. Why does it need to be perfect?"

At last, Arnold stopped fiddling with the string lights. His shoulders dropped as a responded. "This year has been stressful. Between classes and college applications, Phoebe and I haven't had much chance to spend time together…"

"So, all this is for Phoebe…"

"I don't want her to think I've moved on or stopped caring," Arnold continued solemnly. His eyes fell to the ground. "If I can't take time for her now-"

"It'll only get worse if you end up at different schools," Tim finished, and Arnold nodded. Tim frowned; for years, he'd always seen Arnold and Phoebe as such a strong couple. The thought that even they might be fearful of life post-graduation was a little alarming. "I'm sure she understands, though."

Janet crossed her arms. Unlike Tim, she couldn't bring herself to feel so empathetic to her cousin's anxieties. "If you're so freaked out, just talk to the dork. Stop taking it out on us."

Tim snapped his fingers as an idea crossed his mind. "She's right: you should be more direct! Forget lighting and dances, do something that proves you're just as committed now as you were as freshman."

"Maybe not freshman," Janet mused. "He tried to kiss Wanda as a freshman, remember?"

Fortunately, Arnold didn't pay any attention to his cousin's pessimistic commentary. Tim's suggestion had inspired him. "I need to go."

Tim and Janet both stared blankly at the boy. "But… the dance?"

"You guys can decorate, right? I've got to take care of something." Before they could answer, Arnold dashed out of the cafeteria, abandoning the couple to finish preparation.

February 16, 2016

Walkerville High Front Entrance

6:58 P.M.

"Ow! Careful, guys!"

"Sorry, Keesha, there's a curb."

"No kidding."

Keesha limped painfully alongside DA and Phoebe, cursing herself for going along with their ridiculous idea. When DA suggested she let herself be blindfolded, she should have known better than to trust the blonde's supposed 'trust exercise'. After her friends spent the afternoon dressing her, doing her hair and make-up, and leading her to some mystery location, Keesha was quite certain trust had never been the objective of the game. And, sure enough, when she slipped off the blindfold that Phoebe had affixed to her face, she was in the last place she'd wanted to go.

"How did I know you'd bring me here…"

"Sorry," Phoebe murmured, wiping a smudged bit of make-up from Keesha's face. "We know you didn't want to go to the dance, but-"

"But you're going," DA finished, sounding far less apologetic than the first girl. "We decided for you."

Keesha sighed. In truth, she'd figured the moment DA mentioned blindfolds that she'd probably end up at the Valentine's Day dance. Still, if her friends wanted her there so badly that they'd go to the effort of dressing her up and walking her here themselves, she supposed the least she could do was humor them. In truth, she didn't have any better plans for the evening anyway. "Fine," she conceded, sticking the blindfold into her purse. "But could you have unblindfolded me for the walk over here?"

Phoebe nodded along. "That probably would have been a good idea."

The trio walked through the exterior entrance to the cafeteria. Once inside, Keesha was hit by the hot, humid air inside the crowded room and the awful tones of some cheesy pop song playing from the stage. The decorations were sparse, and the company was underdressed – why had she let herself be convinced to come, again? "I don't see why you even want me here…"

"Why wouldn't we? You're our friend." DA had barely had the chance to get the words out of her mouth when an unseen stranger darted past, snatching her bag from her hands. DA whipped around to see Wanda running away into the crowd.

Carlos and Ralphie slowed to a stop beside the girls, both panting heavily. It seemed they'd been chasing the girl for some time, though clearly the effort had been in vain thus far. DA crossed her arms. "What the hell?"

"Wanda escaped," Carlos explained weakly, still breathless.

"Well, she just stole my bag!"

Carlos stood at attention, energy suddenly renewed by DA's frantic tone. "I'm on it!" He saluted before chasing the girl into the crowd, DA in close pursuit.

Meanwhile, Phoebe felt a tap on her shoulder. She spun to find Arnold standing before, dressed up in impressive suit and tie, holding a hand out to her. "Care to dance?" He asked, his tone far more relaxed than Carlos's seconds prior.

Wordlessly, Phoebe nodded and accepted the hand. The two walked to the dance floor themselves. Keesha groaned. "I knew they'd do that," she grunted, watching Arnold and Phoebe start to dance in the middle of the room. She eyed the sole person still standing at her side and grimaced – of course she'd spend the evening stuck with Ralphie.

Stiffly, Ralphie waved at Keesha. She returned the gesture, silently cursing herself for her own damn willingness to give into her friend's wishes.

February 12, 2016

Walkerville High Cafeteria

7:06 P.M.

Normally, Phoebe wasn't one for dancing, and certainly not in public. Arnold looked undeniably incredible in his crisp, black suit, though, and the friendly grin he wore made it impossible to say know to the boy's request. For a short while, the couple were content to sway comfortably to the music blaring through the speakers, each lost in their own thoughts as they embraced amid the crowd. But as the music at last quieted, Arnold pulled away and looked his girlfriend in the eye.

"This is nice," he commented, taking in the sight of Phoebe all dressed up. The girl rarely wore such formal, elegant clothing, but despite the short time she had to get ready while simultaneously helping Keesha, she looked incredible in her flowing forest green dress. He knew there was no one else in the world he'd rather be dancing with that evening. "I've missed you."

Phoebe cocked her head to the side, her wide green eyes sparkling under the soft glow of the string lights overhead. "I haven't gone anywhere."

"I know," Arnold blushed, glancing away from her gaze. "But it feels like it's been forever since we've had a chance to talk. Doesn't it?"

"I suppose…"

Of course, the pair spoke just about every day at school or in his basement, but Phoebe knew that's not what Arnold meant. It had been a while since they'd had a real date, and even though Phoebe told herself that they both were simply to busy, she couldn't help but wonder if the distance had been somewhat intentional.

"We'll be going to college soon," Arnold continued, as if able to read Phoebe's thoughts. She nodded along, silent, waiting to hear what he might say next. "It's scary to think that we might not see each other so often."

"It's inevitable, though," Phoebe reminded gently. "We've always known that."

Arnold's hand reached into his pocket. "I got you a gift," he told her, revealing a small, velvet box as he spoke. Inside, a simple, silver ring glistened in the dim light. Phoebe's face grew pale, and instantly Arnold took her hand. "Don't freak out, I'm not proposing, I promise."

The assurance calmed Phoebe a little, though her heart still pounded at the sight of the ring he slipped onto her finger – in all fairness, it wouldn't be the first time Arnold jumped the gun in their relationship. "It's nice," she uttered, transfixed with the beautiful piece.

Arnold smiled. "It's a promise ring," he told her, searching her face to try and read her thoughts. "I want you to know that, even if we're far apart, I'm still crazy about you."

Phoebe was quiet for what felt like an eternity, staring at the silver ring as her thoughts raced. Suddenly, her eyes turned away. "I need the bathroom," she muttered, racing into the crowd without pause. Arnold watched her, mouth agape, processing what just happened.

Phoebe ran to the table where Keesha sat, making awkward small talk with Ralphie as the others enjoyed the evening, and grabbed her friend frantically. "Can we talk?" She asked, tugging on Keesha's arm.

Keesha jumped at her sudden appearance. "Are you okay?" she frowned, eyeing Phoebe with concern.

Phoebe grimaced. "Bathroom? Please?"

Keesha nodded and allowed herself to be led to the girl's bathroom, away from the chaos and noise of the Valentine's Day dance. Ralphie watched the two leave with interest, but thought better of following – at least he'd get a break of discussing the weather.

In the bathroom, after checking that the stalls were all empty, Keesha turned to face her panicked friend. "What's going on?"

"Arnold."

"Ugh, Pheebs, I really can't help with your relationship drama-"

She held up her hand, the ring still affixed to her finger. "He gave me this," she deadpanned.

Keesha's mouth dropped as she stared at the jewelry. "Hang on, he what?"

"It's a promise ring," Phoebe continued, tone on edge as she gave Keesha the run-down of the evening. "So that, even if we're separated in college, we'll still know we're committed to each other.

Slowly, Keesha nodded, listening intently. "That sounds… Very Arnold and Phoebe."

"Exactly."

Keesha raised a brow. "You don't sound excited, though."

Moaning, Phoebe ran her hands through her hair. "I don't know…" She fell back against the tile wall. "I've been feeling weird lately. Like… Look, did Ralphie ever tell you about what happened at his mom's wedding?"

Keesha frowned. "With his dad?"

Phoebe nodded. "I was so desperate to be a good friend that I did the complete opposite. Why did I have to do that? We've been friends for so long – I shouldn't feel like I'm still trying to prove I'm a good friend!"

"You don't have to prove anything," Keesha assured, leaning beside her friend. "You're a great friend, Phoebe. You just made a mistake."

"I'm not comfortable with who I am. And if I just continue on like always, I'll never be. I want to be a person that people can be proud of, not one that they just put up with. But if I accept this ring… it's like admitting that I'm never going to change."

Keesha glanced towards Phoebe; her friend's brow was furrowed and tense, but surprisingly, her eyes were still dry as she spoke. Keesha sighed. "You have to decide for yourself what's best for you. But if you're asking for my opinion… It sounds like you might need some independence."

Phoebe smiled sadly. "I was afraid you'd say that."

Keesha stood and reach out to her friend. Phoebe allowed herself to be pulled up, and the two slowly walked to the door. "Good luck," Keesha said softly.

Phoebe opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open into her face. Wanda raced in, oblivious to the girl she'd just knocked to the ground, eyes wild as she looked around the bathroom. "Hide me!" She shouted, diving into the nearest stall, DA's bag still firmly in her grip.

Rolling her eyes, Keesha walked out of the bathroom, her eyes open for someone who could help her now-unconscious friend.

February 12, 2016

Walkerville High Infirmary

7:45 P.M.

Phoebe's eyes blinked open. To her surprise, she was no longer surrounded by the cheap tile of the girl's bathroom; now, she lay on a stiff gurney that she'd come to know far too well. She moaned, holding her aching head. She was in the nurse's office. Again.

Beside her, Arnold sat in a blue plastic chair, watching Phoebe with concern. Seeing her wake, he sat up straight in his chair, resting his hands in hers. "Maybe one day, we'll go to a dance that doesn't send you to the nurse's office," he joked.

The corners of Phoebe's lips lifted at the remark, but she couldn't bring herself to smile at the joke. She was just remembering her conversation with Keesha not so long ago. She bit her lip. "Arnold… Sorry I ran off."

Arnold nodded uncomfortably. He hadn't wanted to be the one to bring up her sudden abandonment, but he had to figure a conversation would be coming sooner or later. "It's not a problem. I just hope you're feeling better now."

"We need to talk, Arn."

For the first time maybe ever, Phoebe didn't stutter or beat around the bush. For months, she'd been putting off this conversation, but she knew that she couldn't delay anymore. Arnold gulped; he didn't know where this talk would lead them, but those little words never meant well.

"What's wrong?"

Phoebe took a deep breath. "I love you. And I know you love me. But lately…" She turned away. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye as she spoke. "I want to love me, too. I want to grow up into a person that deserves a guy as sweet as you. And… I think I have to do that alone."

"I don't understand…"

"As long as I have you, I'll never have any reason to push myself to grow – because I'm happy with you. But I should be happy on my own, first. Don't you think?"

Arnold's eyes fell, hiding the first few tears running down his cheeks. "So… What? You want to take a break, then? I can wait a few years, or-"

"I don't want you to wait." Phoebe gently pulled the silver ring from her finger and carefully laid it in his palm, her delicate touch sending shivers down his spine. "I want you to promise me something: that you'll be happy, with or without me. Okay?"

"Phoebe, I-"

"I don't know how much time I need. And you deserve better than to sit around waiting for a girl who might never be ready." Phoebe lifted his chin, forcing Arnold to look her in the eye. "So please promise that you'll be happy."

Arnold swallowed back a fresh set of tears; the gentle smile Phoebe shot him was impossible to argue with. He nodded weakly, his mind struggling to string together words.

"I do."