Chapter Two:
Helga grudgingly walked up the steps to Sid's house, holding the poem she had written for him in hand. She was still paranoid as to whether he had told anyone of her love for Arnold or not. Hopefully their deal was still final.
Helga entered Sid's house, the door already opened, and found her way to Sid's room. She heard his voice behind the door, and wondered who he was talking to. She opened the door without knocking, and what she saw made her laugh and gasp at the same time.
There Sid was, wearing strange paint on his face, kneeling (as if praying) at shrine worse then Helga's own. There it was, Sid in make-up and robes, candles burning, ceremonial music playing. A Rhonda shrine. Sid screamed when he was Helga, quickly closing the TV wall unit doors to where his shrine was kept. "He-He-Helga, what are you doing here so early? Uh, excuse the mess."
"Too late, bucko. I saw that sick display of a Rhonda-loving mess. And besides, that corny music is still playing." Helga laughed. Sid immediately moved the needle off the old record player and threw off his ceremonial robes.
"Oh, Helga, please! Please don't tell anyone! Please! Um . . . I won't tell anyone you like Arnold if you don't tell anyone I like Rhonda!"
"I accept. Now here is your lousy poem, give me my locket."
"Wait!" Sid cried out, searching his room for the locket, finding it in a drawer. "Before I give you the locket, I want to read the poem."
"No! Take the poem and give me the locket!"
"I want to know if it is worthy of even being a good poem! For all I know, you just wrote a bunch of trash on paper just to get your locket back."
"Fine!" Helga yelled. She opened up the piece of paper in her hand, and held in up for him to read, not letting him touch it. He read it that way, then exclaimed that it's too mushy and needs more substance, and to write him a better one.
"What? Too mushy?" Helga screams, infuriated. "If you don't take this poem, I'll tell everyone that you like Rhonda! And that you're so sad you have a shrine for her in your own room! I mean, come on, what loser would have shrine to someone they liked, sheesh . . ."
"Tsk, tsk." Sid grinned. "If you do, I will just tell everyone that you like Arnold, and not only that, but you still won't get your locket back."
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" Helga screamed in his face, and stormed out of his room. She went back home, madder than ever.
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It was late. Helga sat in her room, angry, devastated, and humiliated. "How did this happen to me?" she asked no one. "How did I let my beloved escape form my grasp? How did it get into the sticky fingers of someone like Sid? Why? Why?"
Just then, from downstairs, the doorbell rang. Helga jumped, but just lay back down, feeling miserable. "How?" she asked herself, "What did I ever to deserve th-"
"Helga! A friend is here to see you!" Miriam called from downstairs.
"Who is it?" Helga called back angrily.
"Oh, that nice boy, what's his name, um . . . Arthur!"
"Arnold?!?!" Helga cried out, quickly running downstairs and to the door. She saw Arnold standing just outside the door, wearing a raincoat, dripping a little, which was why he wasn't actually in the house. She didn't even notice it had been raining outside.
"What are you doing here, football head?"
"This might surprise you." He said, and Helga felt a wave of nausea run through her. "Oh?" she said, warily. He held out his hand. In it, was Helga's locket.
She immediately grabbed it. "How did you get this?"
"I got it from Sid, Helga."
"What? But how did you-"
"Helga, a few days ago, in the alley, I heard you and Sid talking. When her got a hold of your locket."
"Wha-What? You heard us?"
"Yes. I knew of his scheme to blackmail you. I couldn't let him do that. You don't have to do anything for him now."
Helga didn't know what to say. She stared down at the locket, then at Arnold. "Arnold, I . . . I . . ."
"It's okay, Helga, you don't have to say anything. But . . ." He said, hesitantly.
"What, Arnold?" Helga asked, her heart thumping.
"Helga, I know you like me."
Helga's heart thumped harder. "What? You know? I mean- what are you talking about? Just because of this silly old locket, oh no, this isn't mine, I . . . uh . . ."
"Helga, I heard you tell Sid that you like me."
"No, no, I just told him that because I thought if I did he would give me the locket back . . . it's Lila's! Not mine!"
"I heard you tell him that, too."
"I . . . I . . . why would anyone like a football headed shaped geek?"
"Helga . . ."
"I'm serious Arnold, I don't like you. I really don't. Now, thanks for the locket back, but I have homework to do."
"Hel-" She then slammed the door shut.
"-ga . . ." Arnold said. He was confused, and angry. "Helga," he whispered very quietly, still angry, "I just wanted to say . . . I kind of like you too . . . even if you are so mean, and never listen to me." But with that, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked home.