~* This chapter is dedicated to a wonderful reviewer, Yes I have a name, since they enjoyed the first part so much. And for the rest of you very patient readers, thank-you for your time. Read and enjoy. -Risma*~

LOVE? WHAT A JOKE!

THURSDAY

That morning, on the bus –

Gerald and Arnold are sitting together behind Helga, who is listening in on their conversation.

Gerald: So Arnold did you get your homework finished?

Arnold: I . . .

Helga turns around and glares at Gerald, while interrupting Arnold.

Helga: Of course he did Geraldo. He's a straight A student.

Arnold: Now Helga . . .

Gerald: Stop picking on him! Just because you didn't finish it. What's the matter Helga, your so called "brain" needed its annual check up and you forgot?

Helga kneels on her seat and raises her fist at him.

Helga: Want to say that to Old Betsy? I'm surprised you even know what a brain is? I mean I could go through your hair with a detector and find a treasure trove, but never a brain.

Gerald: Are you insulting my hair?

Helga: And that's not all moron. If you have anything more to say about my intelligence it had better be good, or you'll be getting a knuckle sandwich, Bucko!

Gerald shakes his hands in mock fright.

Gerald: Oh yeah, I'm soooo scared.

Helga: You'd better be!

While those two are arguing, other things have caught Arnold's attention. A young girl about nine gets on the bus and shows the driver her pass. She is about as tall as Helga, with red hair and a great smile. She is wearing a small green shirt with a long purple coat, a purple mini skirt, green slacks and the coolest boots ever.

Gerald: Arnold? Hey Arnold! Whatcha staring at?

Gerald waves his hand in front of Arnold's face. Showing that this was no sign of improvement, he follows Arnold's gaze and sees her.

Gerald: Oh no. Not again.

Helga notices the look of boredom on Gerald's face and turns to see what's bothering him. She sees this new girl and looks back and forth from her and Arnold.

Helga: (Great. Here we go again. Now I'm going to have to compete with this nimrod too.) I'll have to show HER where she stands in this school.

Gerald looks at Arnold and snaps his fingers near his ear.

Gerald: Arnold, close your mouth man. You're starting to drool.

Arnold snaps back to reality, shuts his mouth and blushes. The new girl looks at Arnold with a smile and winks at him before she takes her seat. His face goes a darker shade of red as he leans back in his seat. Helga gives Arnold a sly grin.

Helga: Well Romeo, this is number, what, seven?

Gerald: If that.

Arnold is still in Lala Land. He sighs and stares and the roof of the bus.

Arnold: Wow . . .

Helga glares at Arnold's love struck grin with jealousy. She sits back down, folds her arms and sulks.

Helga: Great another girl for Paste-for-Brains.

Gerald taps her on the head.

Gerald: Did you say something?

Helga: *sigh* Nope.

Outside the lockers –

Eugene is walking down the corridor with a high pile of books and he can't see where he's going. He manages to look at his watch and realises he's late. He starts to run. WHAM! Arnold is sent sprawling across the polished floor and his books are everywhere. Eugene slowly places his glasses back on his nose.

Eugene: I'm okay . . . sorry Arnold but if I don't get to the library now, I'm going to be late for class. See ya.

Eugene picks up his stuff and limps off in the direction if the library and fast as he can. Arnold rubs his elbows and crawls around to pick up his books. He is reaching for one when a pair of high black boot catches his eye. He hears a low key whistle.

Voice: Hoo boy! Aren't you the stud I saw on the bus?

Arnold slowly looks up and sees the red headed girl. He is startled, nervous and just plain jarded.

Arnold: I . . . uh . . . I . . . um . . . whoa . . .

Girl: Weeellll a good lookin' guy and a smooth talker. *heeheehee* (Some guys are so cute when they're nervous.)

Arnold blushes and the girl bends down to help pick up the books. He just sits there stunned. She notices his expression and winks at him. They both stand up and she hands him his books.

Girl: Hi I'm Risma. And does a guy like you have a name? Or do all the girls just call you Gorgeous?

Arnold: Uh . . . my name? *cough* My name's Arnold.

Risma: Oooh. Very suave and yet almost unique like your head. Now I know why your girlfriend with the one eyebrow and pink bow, calls you football head. Kinda sweet I reckon.

Arnold looks at her with dread. Risma puts an arm across his shoulders and leads him down the corridor.

Arnold: Who? HELGA?! No way! She's not my girlfriend. In fact . . . I've never had a one.

He looks at the ground ashamed. Risma acts like she's taken aback by the sad and sorry statement.

Risma: What?! Never had one! A handsome, hunky and probably good natured guy like you, doesn't have a girlfriend? And here I was thinking you'd a least have ten, and I'd have some competition.

He gazes up at her and gets a cheeky smile. Luckily she was holding onto him, otherwise he'd float away in a love-dazed dream.

Risma: (I've got him now.) *heeheehee* So does this mean you don't like girls or something? Do you have a crush on any girl at all?

He stares at her with a goofy grin, then it disappears as he starts to think of Lila.

Arnold: Oh no, I have nothing against girls. I've just never had any luck in that department. My best friend Gerald can't stand it when I talk about my girl troubles. See I've had a crush on a girl in my class, Lila. But she only thinks of me as a friend, nothing else. But now . . .

He stops and gawks at Risma.

Arnold: . . . now *cough* I mean . . . now I have no one.

Risma: (Well we'll have to remedy the problem wont we?) C'mon I'm supposed to be in Mr Si . . . Sim . . . Simon's . . . ?

She looks at the back to her hand in confusion. Arnold leans over to read.

Arnold: It's Simmons. No one can read Principal Wartz's writing.

Arnold points to the writing on the back of Risma's hand.

Arnold: He's my teacher too. He's alright, bit of a softie though.

In the classroom –

Risma stands at the door of the classroom and watches the ruckus as the students get ready for class. Arnold waves her in and she carefully makes her way to Mr Simmons desk, while occasionally ducking from the odd paper aeroplane. Mr Simmons smiles at her and claps his hands to get the class' attention.

Mr Simmons: Students, I believe we have a new special member of our tribe. She will be coming to PS188 for . . . uh how long?

Risma: Oh just a couple of months. (Enough time to get into infinite trouble.)

Mr Simmons: So please make . . . I didn't quite catch your name?

Risma: It's Risma, sir.

Mr Simmons: No need for the "sir" here. Yes, class please make Risma welcome. How about you take a very special seat next to Helga?

Risma: Great! (Now I get to meet Miss Temperamental at last.)

She makes her way to the back of the classroom, smiles at Helga, who in turn looks the other way. Mr Simmons starts discussing yesterday's homework when Helga turns around to get a look at her opposition.

Helga: (What's with the coat? Has she got something to hide? Only one way to find out. I'll let her know where she stands 'round here. And it is not anywhere near Arnold!)

She leans over and taps Risma on the arm.

Helga: Right let's lay down the facts sister. I'm Helga G. Pataki and what I say around here goes, go it?

Risma faces the front of the classroom looking bored.

Risma: Yeah, yeah. You may act tough but you're a coward.

Helga stares at her with confusion.

Helga: What are you getting at?

She still stares at the front but exhales slowly.

Risma: If you're so straight forward, why not tell Arnold your little secret?

Helga: Huh? What do you mean? I have no secrets!

Risma looks idly around the class, brushing away Helga's frustration like a bad smell.

Risma: Oh . . . I don't know . . . maybe about . . . a certain . . .

She turns to Helga, leans towards her and whispers.

Risma: . . . crush?

Helga's mouth falls open and her eyes grow wide. She glances at the black board making sure Mr Simmons had his back to her, then grits her teeth, reaches over and grabs Risma's shirt and growls at her.

Helga: I don't know how you found out, but you'd better listen up good! If you mention this to ANYONE, I shall personally see to your demise!

Risma yawns unconcerned of her death statement.

Risma: Whatever, just keep your hands off the merchandise.

She flicks Helga's hands away and faces the front again, just as Arnold turns around to see how his new friend is coping. He smiles at her and she gives him a girlish wave and her usual wink. He blushes slightly then looks over at Helga as she keeps flicking glances between Risma and himself.

Arnold: (What's up with Helga? Risma's a nice girl, pretty too and cheerful and kind and funny and . . . WHOA!! Gerald's right! I seriously need to keep myself in check or soon I'll start acting like Jamie O!)

A goofy grin forms on his face and Helga retaliates. He cringes back from her bright red face and her hostile glare, straight at him. He smiles back feebly, then turns around.

Arnold: (But she can't be right about Helga liking me. Helga hates me, always has as far as I remember. Always calling me names, laughing at me, putting me down not to mention the constant spit-balls. Risma just doesn't know Helga yet. Unfortunately she might.)

Lunch Time –

Risma is holding her food tray and searching around the room for a friendly face. She only slightly glances at Helga and a girl with glasses. She can see Arnold sitting up looking hopeful that she'll sit with him.

Risma: (Can't spend all my time with that football head. Hmmm . . . hey he looks interesting!) Mind if I join you?

She smiles at the young boy with a bowl hair cut, wearing red rimmed thick glasses and an orange shirt. He slowly looks up from his sandwich and shrugs his shoulders.

Boy: It's not every day that someone wants to sit with the All Powerful One. Though some of these pathetic humans just call me Curly. But hey, I'm not stopping you, pull up a chair.

She rolls her eyes and takes a seat next to him. She wipes her apple then takes a bite, slowly measuring Curly up. She grins wickedly.

Risma: You seem to be the type who wants nothing but respect. How hard are you willing to work for it? Hmmm?

Curly puts down his sandwich and slowly chews, contemplating the idea. He swallows, turns to her and leans closer.

Curly: Depends on what you want me to do. I wont bite off any more chicken heads if that's what your asking.

Risma: You what?! Uhhh . . . no this doesn't involve chickens. Just a little bit of help on your behalf and in return you can have my utmost respect.

Curly puts out his hand and Risma shakes it.

Curly: Deal. What's my half of the bargain?

Risma leans closer to him and whispers in his ear. Meanwhile across the room two other people are watching the scene.

Arnold: (Why is she sitting with Curly? What's so great about him? She's . . . whispering to him! But . . . but . . . I thought she liked . . . )

Helga: (She had better keep her mouth shut or I WILL kill her. Slowly and painfully.)

They pull apart and Risma bites into her apple while smiling. Curly leans back in his chair and rubs his hands.

Curly: I can do that. How long do I have?

Risma: One week.

Curly: Well in that case it may not be the best . . .

Risma: Don't worry I can handle it. Just get it for me in a week. Okay?

Curly: Easier done than said, my respectable co-evil conspirator.

With that Curly picks up his food tray and sits at another table with the wheezing boy. Risma finishes her apple, when she notices two students looking at her. One with hatred, the other, with sadness. She smiles innocently at both then turns her back on them with a quiet snicker.

After school –

Risma is walking down the school stairs, wondering what to do next, when she hears her name. She turns around and beams. Arnold is running towards her.

Arnold: I know it's not any of my business but what were you talking to Curly about?

Risma: Ah don't worry.

Risma tries to change the subject so he'll shut up.

Risma: What do you guys do after school?

Arnold: Hey want to come and play stick ball with the gang?

Risma: Stick ball? What's that?

Arnold: C'mon I'll show you. We'd better hurry though, or they'll start without us.

He grabs Risma's wrist and practically drags her to an empty lot. They get there just as the kids were picking teams. A dark boy with tall black hair, a long red shirt with "33" printed on it and jeans, spots Arnold and Risma and yells.

Boy: Hey Arnold, what took you so long man?

He then sees the look on his best friend's love struck face. He walks over slowly shaking his head.

Boy: You're a goner Arnold.

Risma laughs at the boy's observation as well as Arnold's beetroot red face.

Arnold: Gerald!

Gerald: Well it's the truth ain't it! C'mon and meet the gang while Romeo here . . .

He nudges Arnold.

Gerald: . . . takes a breather. Welcome to Gerald Field . . .

Arnold walks towards a bench while Gerald does introductions giving a little bit of info on each kid. He gestures to a tall skinny girl with a flower printed on her shirt.

Gerald: And this is Sheena who is the youngest hippie I know. Her aunt is the school nurse. She likes living things and Mother Nature, where as Helga . . . is the total opposite.

Helga: I heard that tall-hair boy. Just watch yourself!

They both glare at each other across the field until Risma speaks.

Risma: Yes I've had the . . . pleasure of meeting her.

Gerald looks sadly at Risma and whispers.

Gerald: Poor you. And that's Eugene, who is an optimist.

Risma feels someone nudge her and sees a smaller boy wearing a black leather jacket and a green hat on backwards, covering his long thin black hair.

Sid: He ought to be considering how many accidents he's had.

Sid is then joined by a much taller boy, with a big nose and a country accent.

Stinky: Yep. Ever since he was born. I reckon he was born a jinx.

They all look at Eugene as he runs over to protest SPLAT! And falls right in the only mud puddle on the whole field, proving Stinky was right.

Eugene: I'm okay.

The young girl with glasses, wearing a blue jumper and skirt, comes and picks up the red headed boy out of the puddle. Risma turns to Gerald.

Risma: I've seen her sitting with Helga during lunch.

Gerald: Yeah that's Phoebe, she's Helga's best-and-only friend. Her Dad's Japanese but her family comes from Kansas. Young genius and shyest yet nicest girl you could meet.

Phoebe nods to Risma, turns around and helps Eugene to the bench. Risma starts giggling when she notices that the jinx tucks his white polo shirt into his underwear. A fat boy with a blue hat on backwards, a way too small white shirt, is standing on the pitchers mound and bellows.

Boy: C'mon already! The faster the game ends, the faster I can go home for dinner.

Gerald: And finally Harold. He speaks for himself. Be right there Bubba!

Harold: And stop calling me that or I'll pound you!

Risma and Gerald smile at each other. The kids sort themselves out into two teams while some of them take their usual places. Eugene on the bench, the boy who wheezes also known as Brainy was scoring, Phoebe as first aid, Helga was catcher and Harold as pitcher yelling insults left right and centre. Risma sits down on the bench with Arnold and listens as he explains the rules.

Helga: Strike three! You're out Geraldo. Bring on the next loser.

Risma walks over to the plate and picks up the thick piece of wood.

Helga: Well, well, well if it isn't Miss Popular. Hope you can hit the ball, or you'll be laughed off the field.

Risma positions the stick behind her head, ready to swing. Stinky takes over Harold's place.

Risma: I dunno, I seem to be hitting off quite well with you boyfriend.

She grins at the sound of Helga's low growl.

Helga: I've obviously done something wrong and that's how you found out. So why do you still flirt with him? Are you some kinda sicko, who likes watching people suffer?

Risma: Wow. So they are wrong.

Helga: Huh?

Risma: Blondes aren't so dumb after all.

Helga: *ggrrr* What's that supposed to mean?

Stinky throws the ball but Risma misses it. Helga throws it back to the pitcher while she gets back into position.

Risma: You see, I'm going to keep up with this charade until you can't take it any more and blurt out your feelings. Then we'll see if Arnold lives up to his nature of understanding or . . . runs away in terror.

Stinky throws again and Risma misses. Helga smiles evilly.

Helga: One more and you're out Miss Was Popular.

Risma: Oh no dear Helga. That's where you misunderstand. You see. I know when to strike out and when to strike. At the moment I'm coiled back ready to pounce.

Stinky pitches one last time. Risma grits her teeth and smashes the ball right out of the lot. She turns and smiles pleasantly at Helga.

Risma: Don't worry Helga. I don't bite . . .

Helga watches Risma run around the bases, not knowing what to do.

Helga: (All I know is, I'd better watch myself.) But I'll get even, just wait and see. Soon she'll be begging for mercy.