Chapter 2
Helga
Helga went into the lost and found room after school, looked around to check for somebody hiding, took the gray trapper, and hauled butt.
She got on the bus, and sat down next to Phoebe.
"I don't get it Phoebe," she said, head turned to Arnold. "Why does he like Lila so much?"
"I think that is because--" Phoebe stopped, and realized she needed to give her friend comfort. "I think it is because he doesn't know you like him. If you tell him, he might be nice to you."
"So what am I supposed to say? 'Hey football head, yeah you. Guess what? I have a huge crush on you ever since pre-school. Huh? What? Sure, I'll wait for you to stop laughing.'"
"Okay, okay," Phoebe said. "Just, stop looking at him." She turned and faced Arnold/Football head and Gerald.
"Hey, why are you looking at him?" Helga mused.
"I am not," Phoebe protested. She saw her best friend's angry face and continued. "I. . . I was looking at Gerald. We, um, are working on a, er, school project together and, uh, he promised he would work on it and I was seeing if he was living up to his obligations."
"We aren't doing any projects," Helga said suspiciously.
"I know," Phoebe said, trying too hard to be nonchalant. "It's for extra credit."
Helga, who obviously didn't believe this for a minute, but let it go and just said, "Whatever."
The bus got to Helga's stop just then, and she got off without another word.
"Hi, Olga. How was school?" Big Bob asked as Helga came in from the door.
"I'm not Olga, dad, I'm Helga. Remember, Olga is off in nowheresville teaching Eskimos how to read." Helga snapped.
"Oh, yeah. In that case, get me a beer and TV dinner, Helga." Bob said.
"Okay, hold on, dad."
Helga ran up the stairs into her room. She threw her backpack on her bed and went into her closet/shrine. She pulled apart the clothes and-
"HELGA! What are you doing!?" Big Bob demanded.
Helga quickly closed the door.
"Nothing, dad. Just getting my homework done." She lied.
"I thought I asked you to get me a beer and TV dinner!" Bob roared.
That was the last straw. Helga was tired of this bad day, and she wasn't listening to anybody.
"Get. It. Yourself!" She yelled and slammed the door in his face. "Why?" She asked herself. "Why do I have to be so mean?"
She decided to call Phoebe.
"Hey, Pheebes."
"Oh, hi Helga." Phoebe said.
"That's it? Just, 'Oh, hi?'"
"I'm sorry, I'm preoccupied. Just need to turn off the TV."
Phoebe tried to cover up the phone, but she only covered it halfway. Helga caught some of her conversation.
"Oh, Gerald. . . go. . . I talk to. . . for. . . bye!"
Helga giggled.
"What?" Phoebe was back on.
"Nothing." Helga let out an innocent whistle. Phoebe didn't get it and decided to drop it.
"Okay, whatever. So what did you want to talk about?"
"Phoebe, I want a honest answer. I will give you full immunity if you answer truthfully."
"Um, okay."
"Am I, well, am I. . . a mean person? Why are people so afraid of me?" Helga asked politely.
There was a long pause.
"I don't think you mean to be rude, Helga." Phoebe said. "It's just the way you are. If you tried to be nicer to people, you know say the good things about them instead of the bad, I think you would be liked more. Less people would be scared of you."
Helga didn't answer for a while.
"Sorry, I have to go to dinner, Helga."
"Okay, bye," Helga sighed.
"Bye."
"WAIT!" Helga screamed into the receiver.
"What? Did I do something wrong?" Phoebe asked.
'No, I did. I forgot to say thank you, Phoebe."
"Your welcome, Helga."
"Oh, yeah, and Pheebes?"
"What?"
"This conversation NEVER happened, right?"
Phoebe had dealt with enough conversations that, "NEVER happened" to know what to say.
"What conversation?" She asked, as usual.
"That's my girl," Helga said, then hung up the phone. Click! Helga felt a whole lot better. She decided to tell Arnold one week before the dance who she was. Until then, she would be a lot nicer to him. She took out a pen and paper and wrote another letter.
My Dearest Arnold,
I will tell you my name in one week before the dance. Until then you can talk to the real me in these notes. But if you talk about me to me, I will lie, until one week until the dance, for my security. I hope to see you at the dance!
Love,
Ifmhb
Helga put the letter in an envelope. Then she put it in the trapper keeper. She couldn't wait for the next day of school. She turned on her radio and heard Alive by P.O.D. She turned it up to drone out the sound of the yelling Big Bob. I think, she thought, that tomorrow is going to be a very good day.
Helga
Helga went into the lost and found room after school, looked around to check for somebody hiding, took the gray trapper, and hauled butt.
She got on the bus, and sat down next to Phoebe.
"I don't get it Phoebe," she said, head turned to Arnold. "Why does he like Lila so much?"
"I think that is because--" Phoebe stopped, and realized she needed to give her friend comfort. "I think it is because he doesn't know you like him. If you tell him, he might be nice to you."
"So what am I supposed to say? 'Hey football head, yeah you. Guess what? I have a huge crush on you ever since pre-school. Huh? What? Sure, I'll wait for you to stop laughing.'"
"Okay, okay," Phoebe said. "Just, stop looking at him." She turned and faced Arnold/Football head and Gerald.
"Hey, why are you looking at him?" Helga mused.
"I am not," Phoebe protested. She saw her best friend's angry face and continued. "I. . . I was looking at Gerald. We, um, are working on a, er, school project together and, uh, he promised he would work on it and I was seeing if he was living up to his obligations."
"We aren't doing any projects," Helga said suspiciously.
"I know," Phoebe said, trying too hard to be nonchalant. "It's for extra credit."
Helga, who obviously didn't believe this for a minute, but let it go and just said, "Whatever."
The bus got to Helga's stop just then, and she got off without another word.
"Hi, Olga. How was school?" Big Bob asked as Helga came in from the door.
"I'm not Olga, dad, I'm Helga. Remember, Olga is off in nowheresville teaching Eskimos how to read." Helga snapped.
"Oh, yeah. In that case, get me a beer and TV dinner, Helga." Bob said.
"Okay, hold on, dad."
Helga ran up the stairs into her room. She threw her backpack on her bed and went into her closet/shrine. She pulled apart the clothes and-
"HELGA! What are you doing!?" Big Bob demanded.
Helga quickly closed the door.
"Nothing, dad. Just getting my homework done." She lied.
"I thought I asked you to get me a beer and TV dinner!" Bob roared.
That was the last straw. Helga was tired of this bad day, and she wasn't listening to anybody.
"Get. It. Yourself!" She yelled and slammed the door in his face. "Why?" She asked herself. "Why do I have to be so mean?"
She decided to call Phoebe.
"Hey, Pheebes."
"Oh, hi Helga." Phoebe said.
"That's it? Just, 'Oh, hi?'"
"I'm sorry, I'm preoccupied. Just need to turn off the TV."
Phoebe tried to cover up the phone, but she only covered it halfway. Helga caught some of her conversation.
"Oh, Gerald. . . go. . . I talk to. . . for. . . bye!"
Helga giggled.
"What?" Phoebe was back on.
"Nothing." Helga let out an innocent whistle. Phoebe didn't get it and decided to drop it.
"Okay, whatever. So what did you want to talk about?"
"Phoebe, I want a honest answer. I will give you full immunity if you answer truthfully."
"Um, okay."
"Am I, well, am I. . . a mean person? Why are people so afraid of me?" Helga asked politely.
There was a long pause.
"I don't think you mean to be rude, Helga." Phoebe said. "It's just the way you are. If you tried to be nicer to people, you know say the good things about them instead of the bad, I think you would be liked more. Less people would be scared of you."
Helga didn't answer for a while.
"Sorry, I have to go to dinner, Helga."
"Okay, bye," Helga sighed.
"Bye."
"WAIT!" Helga screamed into the receiver.
"What? Did I do something wrong?" Phoebe asked.
'No, I did. I forgot to say thank you, Phoebe."
"Your welcome, Helga."
"Oh, yeah, and Pheebes?"
"What?"
"This conversation NEVER happened, right?"
Phoebe had dealt with enough conversations that, "NEVER happened" to know what to say.
"What conversation?" She asked, as usual.
"That's my girl," Helga said, then hung up the phone. Click! Helga felt a whole lot better. She decided to tell Arnold one week before the dance who she was. Until then, she would be a lot nicer to him. She took out a pen and paper and wrote another letter.
My Dearest Arnold,
I will tell you my name in one week before the dance. Until then you can talk to the real me in these notes. But if you talk about me to me, I will lie, until one week until the dance, for my security. I hope to see you at the dance!
Love,
Ifmhb
Helga put the letter in an envelope. Then she put it in the trapper keeper. She couldn't wait for the next day of school. She turned on her radio and heard Alive by P.O.D. She turned it up to drone out the sound of the yelling Big Bob. I think, she thought, that tomorrow is going to be a very good day.