February 13, 2016

Arnold's Bedroom

11:33 A.M.

Loud pounding at the bedroom door was the first noise Arnold heard on Saturday morning other than his own dismal sighs. He rolled his eyes at the intrusion – he was in no mood to be disrupted by his friend's usual antics and had hoped the empty basement and dark house would be enough to dissuade the group from bothering him. So much for that hope. "I don't want to prank Tim!" He shouted to the unwelcome guest, despite knowing the call would never be enough to convince Wanda to turn and walk away.

The doorknob twisted open and, to Arnold's relief, it wasn't Wanda's face that peered through a crack in the door after all. Instead, Keesha offered a gentle, sympathetic grin. Arnold tiredly rubbed his eyes. Keesha almost never went out of her way to see him; there was no doubt that Phoebe had told her best friend about the events of the previous day, then.

"How're you doing?" Keesha asked softly, stepping into the dim room, shutting the door behind her with a muted thud.

Arnold forced himself to sit up. His morning of moping in bed was clearly at an end. "Never better," he murmured bitterly, his voice hoarse.

Keesha had expected as much when she'd committed to visiting the boy this morning – of course he'd be in no mood to chat. But as far as she knew, she was still the only one of the group to know about Arnold and Phoebe's unexpected break-up the previous night, and she refused to let him wallow on his own for too long.

"She told you?"

Keesha nodded once. He didn't need to say any more than that – the implications were obvious. Arnold groaned and massaged his temples, his brow furrowed as he considered the situation. "Figures…"

"Talk to me." Keesha crossed the room and sat on the end of her friend's bed. "Are you okay?"

Arnold shrugged limply. "I guess. How am I supposed to feel?"

"Upset? Vindictive? Murderous?" Keesha smirked at the last suggestion, and even Arnold cracked a smile. That was a good sign.

"No, nothing like that." Arnold reached for his glasses on his bedside table; if he was going to be stuck in this conversation for a while, he might as well be able to see the girl at the foot of the bed. "Just… Disappointed."

"That makes sense."

"And I keep thinking, 'what did I do wrong?' You know? Could I have done anything fix this?"

Keesha frowned at the comment. "It's not your fault, Arnold-"

"Isn't it?" Arnold raised a brow, challenging Keesha, but the girl remained quiet. "I was too pushy. I scared her away. What if I had just slowed down?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Mr. Robinson warned me about this: One action is enough to trigger an entire chain of events. It's chaos theory, Keesh, and I still screwed it up." Arnold scooted closer to Keesha. "Just think about it – how did this all start? With me chasing Phoebe all around town to go to some dumb carnival. What would have happened if I had just let things be?"

September 4, 2012

Walkerville High Hallway

7:56 A.M.

"Hey, Phoebe!"

Phoebe looked up from her locker. Beside her, Arnold was grinning widely, his hands fidgeting as he waited for a reply. Phoebe smiled back and sorely forced herself to her feet – despite the pain in her ankle, she would never want to trouble the boy with her own issues. "Good morning," she chirped as cheerily as she could muster. Hopefully the forced smile wasn't too obvious.

"Sorry you couldn't make it to the fair," he commented, his smile flickering for just a moment. "I was looking forward to hanging out."

Phoebe's face flushed at the comment; she hadn't expected anyone to really notice her absence that afternoon. "Oh, right. Sorry about that – one of those 24-hour colds, you know? But I'm feeling a lot better now."

"That's good." Arnold glanced away for a second, his face growing red as he gathered his nerves. He'd been ready to ask out his friend the night before, but since that hadn't worked out as planned, he didn't have much other choice: the school hallway would have to suffice. "Look, I wanted to ask you something…"

"Yeah?"

Arnold rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly, Pheebs, I…" He gulped. "Okay, here's the thing – I really, really, really like you. Like… Like like you."

Phoebe's eyes shot open. Of all the things she'd expected her friend to tell her that morning, this was at the bottom of the list. "R-really?"

"Yeah, really. And I… I was wondering if, maybe, we could… Like, go out or something? If you want. No pressure."

Looking over the timid boy before her, Phoebe was surprised to find not a third grader afraid of the world, but a young man determined to make the most of it. She'd never looked at Arnold in a romantic light – not since a fleeting childhood crush that as old as actual dinosaurs – and still thought of herself and her friends in terms of who they were. Arnold was mature, though, and kind, and more grown-up than she'd ever allowed herself to notice. Could there be more between them than simply old feelings of friendship?

If she were honest with herself, she would be happy to walk hand in hand with Arnold by her side. For the first time in her life, she felt seen, and she would do anything to hold onto that feeling. And Arnold… What a guy.

Phoebe smiled warmly at Arnold. There wasn't a doubt in her mind when she finally answered; "I'd love to, Arnold."

November 6, 2012

Walkerville Miniature Golf Course

6:39 P.M.

"I'm so sorry!" Phoebe exclaimed again.

Arnold let out a squeak. "It's fine…" he struggled, "It could happen to anyone." Taking a deep breath, Arnold stood upright. "Let's just head to the theater; it'll give us a chance to get out of the rain…"

Phoebe nodded. "That sounds… safe."

After returning their golf clubs, Arnold and Phoebe began walking to a nearby movie theater. While walking, Arnold glanced at Phoebe and noticed her shivering in the cool rain. Without a word, Arnold took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

Phoebe gave Arnold a small smile. "Thanks," she responded, pulling the coat tightly around her arms. "You're not cold, are you?"

Looking into her eyes, Arnold grinned. "I'm perfect."

Phoebe looked at Arnold in surprise. Before she could respond, the pair stopped in front of the movie theater. Looking at the sign, Arnold groaned. "Hold on, the sign says that the theater is closed!" Arnold walked up to an employee sweeping the theater's front entrance. "Excuse me," Arnold began politely, "Is the theater really closed?"

"Oh, yeah," the employee nodded, "Slushee machine accident."

Arnold raised a brow. "That shut the entire theater?"

The employee shrugged. "It's a big Slushee machine."

Reluctantly, Arnold returned to Phoebe. "Well, this officially sucks."

Phoebe placed a hand on Arnold's shoulder. "It's okay," she reassured, "We can come out some other time. Maybe we should just call it a night for now—you know, before one of us gets hypothermia or I accidentally kill you."

"No!" Arnold cried, "Don't go home yet! We can still do tons of stuff!"

"Like what?" Phoebe asked skeptically.

"Like, uh… We could go for a walk!"

"It's raining."

"Right…" Arnold thought for a moment. "Well, do you have to go home right now?"

Phoebe eyed Arnold curiously. "What's the problem? I'll see you tomorrow-"

"Stay."

Phoebe furrowed her brow. "What?"

"Stay!"

"Why?"

"Because I love you!"

Phoebe froze. It was the first time in her life someone other that her father had uttered those three little words. Arnold spoke with such conviction, such surety… It was too soon for the L word, she told herself, trying to deny how her heart fluttered when she heard his mouth sound out that simple syllable. They'd only been dating for 2 months now. They were only in high school. They couldn't know anything about real love.

But she looked deep into Arnold's sapphire eyes and in an instant, all her doubts were gone. She'd known this boy for long enough to know his heart inside and out. She knew his childish fears, his most embarrassing moments, his impossible obsession with rocks, and still she knew it was true when she replied, "I love you, too."

Beside them, the movie theater employee rolled his eyes – the theater being closed was supposed to spare him from the cheesy confessions of love in the rain. What good was a slushee machine accident if he still had to put up with this crap?

March 16, 2013

La Bella Luna, Back Courtyard

4:15 P.M.

"Hey, Arnold? Oh, wait…" Wanda chuckled. "That was the name of that TV show!"

"Very funny, Wanda."

"Anyway, Arnold?"

"What is it, Wanda?"

"Will you tell me a story?"

Arnold growled and scooted away from Wanda. "No, Wanda. Shush."

"But I'm bored!" Wanda moaned, falling onto Arnold's lap, dramatically placing her hand to her forehead. "Talk to me! We've been sitting in silence for ages!"

Arnold shoved Wanda off of him. "No, I've been sitting in silence for ages; you don't know the meaning of the word silent."

Wanda crossed her arms, pouting. "Yes, I do."

"Then prove it. Please."

The 2 were quiet for moment until Wanda let out a large sigh, provoking a face palm from Arnold.

"Come on! Let's talk!" Wanda begged, growing more frantic with every passing minute. "It'll be fun, trust me!"

Looking up at Wanda, Arnold realized that the girl wasn't going to stop pestering him any time soon. With a sigh, he turned to face his friend. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

A thoughtful look came across Wanda's face. "Well… How're you and Phoebe doing?"

"Me and Phoebe? We're fine…" Arnold's eyes narrowed. "Since when do you care about our relationship?"

"Oh… I don't…" Wanda rushed as she turned away from the boy. "I was just asking."

"No, now you're acting weird," Arnold pointed out, trying to get Wanda to face him once more. "What's going on, Wan?"

"Nothing."

"Wanda, please; talk to me."

Looking back towards Arnold, Wanda was surprised to see his concern-filled eyes. "Fine…" she murmured reluctantly, taking a deep breath. "A few days ago, Ralphie asked me about where we stood, relationship-wise."

"I thought you guys were only fake-dating."

"That's what I thought," Wanda continued, pulling her eyes away from Arnold's. "So, I kinda blew him off. But then I asked Keesha for some advice, and she started asking me all these questions about what kind of guys I like…"

Arnold frowned at the story's pause. "And…?" he pushed.

"And it's you, Arnold!" Wanda blurted, looking him in the eyes once again. "I like you."

Eyes wide, Arnold leaned back against the building. "Oh…"

March 17, 2013

La Bella Luna, Back Courtyard

4:19 A.M.

Wanda looked over to Arnold, who was now sitting on the opposite end of the courtyard.

"Are you mad at me? You haven't spoken in…" She glanced down at her watch, "Over 12 hours."

Arnold rubbed his eyes and looked up at Wanda. "Mad? What makes you think I'm mad?" He retorted, voice sounding strained.

"Well, you haven't spoken in-"

"Why couldn't you have said something a year ago, Wanda?" Arnold shouted, standing up and beginning to pace. "Why wait until I'm in a serious relationship to say anything?"

Glaring, Wanda crossed her arms. "Stop yelling; we're still in hiding, remember?" Sighing, she forced Arnold to stop moving. "Why are you mad at me? I didn't suggest you break up with Phoebe or anything; you asked me what was bothering me, and I answered—that's all!"

Arnold grew silent, gathering his thoughts. After a few minutes, he walked over to the wall and leaned against it. "I'm not mad at you," he explained quietly. "You caught me off-guard is all. You know I had the biggest crush on you in 3rd grade?"

"I figured. Who wouldn't?"

"Right." Arnold rolled his eyes. "But I moved on, Wanda. I'm so beyond happy with Phoebe, and I don't see that changing anytime soon."

Wanda kicked at the ground, a pit growing in her stomach. She'd suspected she'd get such an answer, but it didn't make her feel any better in the moment. "I know that. You guys are like, sickeningly adorable. Maybe I just didn't realize what I was missing."

"With all due respect, Wanda – if we had dated, we wouldn't have been half as adorable. You're a badass and all, but you scare the crap out of me. I'm better off with someone I can be open and honest with, without worrying about judgement."

"I am pretty judgmental." With a sigh, Wanda slunk onto the concrete below. "Look, I didn't mean to cause any issues for you guys. Forget I said anything."

Frowning, Arnold watched as the girl's gaze dropped to the ground with a profound sadness. He'd never seen this side of Wanda before. "Don't worry about it. It's better that you're honest about how you're feeling. But maybe you should be having this conversation with Ralphie."

"But then he'll get all mopey and stuff."

"Or he can move on and you both can find relationships that make you happy. You deserve happiness, Wanda, even if it's not with me."

Wanda snorted. "God, you're cheesy."

"I learned from the best," he chuckled, moving back to Wanda's side feeling lighter than before.

October 31, 2013

Downstairs Closet

9:46 P.M.

The two girls arrived moments before the rest of the crowd. The source quickly became obvious—Karen stood at the door of the closet, shaken. Inside, the body of Tiffany lay sprawled on the floor. As Keesha eyed the body in the closet, Carlos quickly wrapped his arm around the distraught Karen.

"Everything'll be alright," he murmured gently.

DA crossed her arms. "She's not even dead," she reminded tersely. Carlos ignored the comment and led Karen into the neighbouring dining room, where he sat her down at the table.

As the kids began pushing their way into the closet, Keesha pulled Phoebe towards the dining room. "We're not going to get much investigating done until that closet clears up."

Phoebe nodded in agreement. "So, we talk to Karen?"

"That's the plan." The two walked to the far side of the dining room table and sat across from Carlos and Karen. "Can you tell us what happened?"

Karen shrugged noncommittally. "I guess… I was just grabbing my coat from the closet, but when I opened the door…" she shuddered.

"Why'd you need your coat?"

Karen started to answer but was still too out of it to respond. Carlos gently put his hand on her knee and glared at Keesha. "Do you have to do this now? This is a traumatic time."

"Yes, we all know how difficult it can be to see a girl lying on the floor," Keesha remarked sarcastically. Nevertheless, she stood up from the table. "We'll talk later." She exited the room, and Phoebe followed after one last glance to Carlos and Karen.

Outside the dining room, the closet has emptied (except for Tiffany, who would be stuck there until Janet said it was okay to move). Keesha stood at the door, taking in the scene before her.

The closet looked fairly normal. A few of the coats had been pulled off their hangers and now lay limply on the floor but seemed to be the only things out of place. Keesha kneeled beside the coats. "Looks like there might have been a struggle," she suggested.

"Maybe," Phoebe murmured unsurely. She still stood at the door, seeming uncomfortable.

Keesha eyed her in surprise. "You know it's not a real dead body, right?"

Phoebe nodded weakly. "This whole thing is just… Nerve-wracking, I guess." She gripped the doorframe tightly and shut her eyes, trying to calm herself down.

Keesha stood in alarm. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine…" Phoebe took a step back. "Maybe I should go… I could try to get some alibis or something…"

"Sure." Keesha watched her friend with concern. "From who?"

"Anyone that might have won a struggle with her, I guess," Phoebe answered, eyes still shut. "Anthony, Evans, maybe Ralphie… I don't know. I have to get out of here, I'm sorry."

Phoebe turned and quickly stepped away from the crime scene. Fake or not, the sight of a body lying motionless on the floor was not something she'd prepared for when she agreed to Janet's ridiculous idea for a Halloween party. She peered into the large, elegant sitting rooms and formal dining spaces she passed as she rushed down the hall; there was only one person she wanted to see.

At the far end of the house, Phoebe found her target – Arnold was searching around a beautiful guest bedroom, biding time until he had a chance to visit the closet himself. A single look at his girlfriend was all Arnold required to know just how badly she needed comfort. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around the trembling girl, leading her to the bed where they both could sit and relax.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked, his voice heavy with concern as he pulled away from Phoebe. She was pale, clearly uneasy from the stress of the evening. Why hadn't they stayed home that night?

But Phoebe weakly nodded. Though still not herself, Arnold's presence alone already had her feeling more composed. "I just needed a moment away from the game," she replied tersely, voice hoarse. "It all seems so real…"

"Hey, it's okay." Arnold offered a small smile. "You're safe with me."

"You promise?"

"Always, Phoebe. Always."

December 21, 2014

Arnold's Basement

3:47 P.M.

Once the basement was acceptably clean, Arnold settled on the sofa beside Phoebe. "Much better. Not even a sign that the others were here." Suspiciously, Phoebe looked down at the towel on the floor beside the coffee table, placed to cover the fresh blood stain until someone (probably Arnold) bought an industrial-strength carpet cleaner. Arnold grimaced. "Okay, one sign."

Phoebe nodded absentmindedly. Noticing the girl's vacant gaze, Arnold gently held her unscathed hand. "You okay?"

"I guess..." Realizing that her weak response was far from reassuring, Phoebe shook her head. "Sorry, I'm fine. Really."

"You sure?"

"Mm-hmm." Seeing Arnold's face, etched with concern, so close to her own, Phoebe was struck by how mature his features suddenly seemed. Uneasily, Phoebe pulled her hand apart from Arnold's and scooted a few inches away. "We… really are young adults, aren't we?"

Arnold dropped his hand in his lap. "I guess…"

"And we actually have to plan for the future and stuff?"

Arnold chuckled to himself. "The future and stuff, sure." Sensing that she was still gloomy, Arnold grew serious once more. "I guess DA really bothered you, huh?" Phoebe nodded, and Arnold narrowed his eyes at the spot where the blonde girl had been sitting. "Yeah, she really does know how to kill the mood."

"I'm not ready to be a grown up, Arn. I'm not even that good at being a teen yet."

"You're doing fine," Arnold assured, moving close to his girlfriend once more. "And you don't have to worry about the future."

Finally, Phoebe began to let herself relax. "Really?"

"Really." Comfortably, Arnold leaned back on the sofa, glad that the storm had passed. "I mean, we've pretty much figured everything out. We'll be fine."

"I suppose. I just never realized how quickly time was going by."

"Well, I, for one, am looking forward to every moment of the future. After all, there's no one else I'd rather have by my side."

May 9, 2014

Front Office

10:49 A.M.

After refusing to dissect the frog, Phoebe was led to the front office. Principal Adams had called her father and informed him that he needed to pick up his daughter. Once he arrived, the grown-ups would discuss Phoebe's imminent suspension. Still, sitting in the front office, Phoebe didn't feel ashamed in the least. She knew she did the right thing. Maybe it wouldn't count for much, but who could really say?

As Phoebe sat waiting for her father to get to school, she felt someone sit beside her. She turned and, to her confusion, she found Arnold sat down on the neighboring chair. The boy nodded, a weak grin on his face.

Phoebe furrowed her brow. "Why are you here?"

"I wouldn't dissect the frog."

Phoebe froze. "Why?"

"Because you asked me not to." Arnold shrugged as though the comment were nothing. They both knew how big a deal it was for Arnold to sacrifice his perfect record, though – normally, nothing came between Arnold and his GPA. "I'd do anything for you, Phoebe. And I… I didn't want you to feel alone."

To say that she was touched by the sentiment wasn't enough. Phoebe had fully prepared herself to be the only one to boycott the dissection – throughout high school, no bond she shared really compared to that she shared with her boyfriend. Not to say she didn't adore her friends, of course, but she knew they wouldn't take a bullet for her sake. She'd never expect them to.

But Arnold came through after all. She meant more to him than his grades. And that meant more to Phoebe than any protest, any punishment, and even any frog on the dissection table.

June 7, 2015

Reception

1:56 P.M.

Absentmindedly, Phoebe tossed another rock across the duck pond. Like her previous throws, the rock sunk to the bottom on the water almost instantly. Normally, she was decent at making the small, round stones around the park skip across the surface, but today her busy mind was interfering with her focus.

She hadn't meant to upset Ralphie with her actions. She had genuinely believed it when his dad said he would want to see his son; and perhaps he had been sincere. Regardless of intentions though, he had never shown up to the park, and Ralphie had gotten hurt because of her.

His words were still trapped in her mind. She thought she had been acting as a friend, but was it possible she only wanted to be the hero? It made sense. If she had managed to repair Ralphie's relationship with his father, he would be beyond grateful. She'd be liked. Maybe she wouldn't have to be so worried about being forgotten or abandoned one day.

Why did she have to feel so damn insecure? It's not that she expected Ralphie to lose interest in her friendship, or for Keesha or Arnold or anyone to judge her for how much money she had. No one had been upset when she and Arnold admitted to their relationship sophomore year. And yet, some voice in the back of her mind insisted that the day would inevitably come when boring, bland, forgettable Phoebe would no longer be good enough for the Frizzle crew.

Phoebe never considered herself a dishonest person, but perhaps it was time to acknowledge the doubts and fears that continued to torment her. Perhaps there was a difference between being honest and simply not lying.

Her thoughts were cut short when a voice in the distance faintly called her name. "Phoebe? Are you here?"

She spun around. Just at the entrance to the park, she saw Arnold entering, concern etched across his face. At the sight of her, he rushed across the expanse of green parkland, his muscles relaxing with relief. "There you are! Thank God you're okay!"

Arnold pulled her into a tight hug that Phoebe awkwardly reciprocated. She was overwhelmed with emotion; how was she supposed to feel? Once he let go, she cocked her head. "Of course, I'm okay," she assured gently, awaiting an explanation.

"I saw Ralphie come back, but you weren't with him. Then he told me about what happened, and I just had to know you were alright."

"Oh… You spoke to Ralphie…" Phoebe glanced away, ashamed. "Look, I messed up-"

"That doesn't matter." Arnold grazed a finger against her pale chin, sending chills running up her spine. "I know you guys got in a fight, but please don't blame yourself. I know you always do."

Phoebe shook her head. "I crossed a line this time, Arnold. I think I really hurt him."

"You were trying to be the kind person you are. If Ralphie can't see that, then he's an idiot."

Though her heart still ached for Ralphie, Phoebe had to believe there was some truth to what Arnold said. Arnold, who had stood by her side for the last 3 years with question or regret. Arnold, who knew her better than Ralphie, or Keesha, or anybody in the world. Arnold said she was a good person. So, how bad could she truly be?

She wrapped her arms around Arnold, at last calming from the turbulent afternoon. Arnold always knew when she needed him and what to say to make things okay. She was lucky to have him in her life. And she knew she would never let him go.

February 13, 2016

Arnold's Bedroom

11:56 A.M.

Keesha listened to Arnold's rambling hypothetical in silence, holding her tongue until he'd had the chance to air his musings. He was hurting now, and he needed to be heard. But once he finished, she knew he also needed to hear the truth. "That's quite the picture."

"But it makes sense, doesn't it?" Arnold began pacing erratically, his thoughts working a mile a minute as he reflected on the past four years. "I pushed her away, so she bonded with Ralphie of all people. I panicked and nearly kissed Wanda; she panicked and dumped me. And yeah, we got back together, but the damage was already done. We lost all that time. I couldn't put my record on the line during her whole frog protest thing, but Ralphie did – because they became closer after I pushed her away! And now – now he gets mad at her, and of course she takes what he says to heart because, again, I basically declared them BFF's or whatever. If I had just been less of an idiot…"

Arnold trailed off, at last making room for Keesha to jump in with a smirk. "You about done?"

"I'm done. I'm totally done."

Arnold collapsed back onto his bed. With a sympathetic grimace, Keesha pat him on the back. "Look, you're right. It makes sense. Maybe it is all your fault that she dumped you. Maybe if you'd done things differently, you guys would be happily married with a family in the suburbs by now."

A few moments passed, and Arnold glanced over to Keesha. "And?"

"What?"

"Was there more to that thought, or are you seriously just here to kick me while I'm wallowing?"

Keesha chuckled. "Sit up, would you? I know your in the middle of your pity party but have some pride."

Arnold snorted at the comment and pushed himself up; he could always count on Keesha not to put up with anyone's crap. "Fine, continue."

"Right, so maybe everything could have been different. But maybe not. My point is, it is what it is, you can't go back and change it now. There's no point thinking about all of the what-ifs."

"But 'what it is' is sucky and lame."

"Yeah. I don't know if you've noticed, but life is like that sometimes." Keesha rested her hand on Arnold's knee and squeezed it. "As someone who recently went through a break-up, let me be the one to tell you: it sucks, but you'll get through it. There's no other choice."

As much as it hurt to admit, Arnold knew that his friend was right. He still loved Phoebe, but she needed space. He cared about her too much to deprive her of that. So… He had to be okay with it. Given the choice between just friends or nothing at all, Arnold knew he'd pick friends every time. Maybe, given some time, the prospect wouldn't hurt so much.

For now, he would just have to forget the what-ifs and start to move on.