DISCLAIMER: Hey Arnold-not mine, never will be.
It took us a good 15 minutes to finally get back to the boarding house. It was also pretty late and my feet were failing me. I nearly tripped over myself about three times. I looked like a drunk. It was probably also due to the fact that I was wearing my big, clunky, tennis shoes with the dress. Yes, I worse sneakers with the little skirt thing. So?! Can't a person have their own style?!
"So, Helga, do you wanna come up?" he asked as we reached his stoop. What was he suggesting…
"Are you sure we won't make too much noise?" I asked, a bit of a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
"We can be quiet, can't we?" he asked again.
"Do you know how wrong that sounds?" I asked in return. He frowned and looked at me questioningly. Jeeze, this guy is dense… "Never mind…" I said and started to walk up the stairs of his stoop.
"No, we can't go in that way, we'll wake everyone up." he said and motioned for me to follow him. We ran to the side of the building where his fire escape was. He started climbing the later but I didn't budge. I knew what we were going to have to do.
"There's no way I'm climbing through that window of yours, buddy," I wasn't being a whimp or girly or anything… it's just, well, even I knew that climbing through the window with the little dress I had on couldn't possibly come out too well. I may not be ladylike, but I know my boundaries.
"Come on, it's nothing." he said, stopping in mid step. "I'll help you,"
"Look, I didn't NEED help, I was just worried about…" I paused, "outta my way!" I got up into the latter and pushed my way past him. I could do this.
We got up to his window and stopped while he checked to see if it was open. He smiled.
"You know, for once I'm glad you're a stupid football head and forgot to lock your own window… otherwise we would have had to camp out on your fire escape." I said putting my hands on my hips.
"I… thank… you?" he looked confused. I smiled to myself. He didn't know whether to take what'd I'd said as a compliment or an insult. It was probably a mixture of both. He opened the window as far as he could then stepped back. "Ladies first." he motion with his hands.
I rolled my eyes, but inside I was smiling brightly. I walked over to the window and inspected it. Hmm… I COULD fit into, no doubt about that… the only problem would be trying to keep my dress on while I was sliding through that thing. I decided not to think about it too much and got up onto the window's ledge, stuck my legs through and then turned around to scoot my butt through first. Everything went smoothly until I heard a strange ripping sound. I disregarded it and continued to inch through. I heard it again, sounding more urgent this time. I realized then that my dress HAD gotten caught on something.
"Uh, Helga, I think your dress is caught on the window somewhere, " Arnold said, almost in a slight laugh.
"Thank you captain obvious!" I nearly shouted. "Could you maybe help me out here?!" he started to smile so he looked down, trying in vain not to laugh at my predicament. "What are you laughing at, football head?! Help me get outta here!" he burst out laughing. If I hadn't been stuck in that thing I would have beat the crap out of him. He probably knew I was going to get stuck.
"Maybe I should just leave you there… maybe you'll think twice about calling me football head!" he said, laughing obnoxiously.
"JUST HELP ME!" I shouted.
"SHHHH!!" he raised a finger to his lips. "Do you want everyone to know I'm sneaking you in through my… window…" he started laughing again. I glared at him, "Ok, ok, what exactly do you want ME to do?"
"I don't know, something!" I rolled my eyes. He looked away for a minute then turned back and snapped his fingers.
"I'll go through the front door and up to my room and pull you out from there. No one would get suspicious if I just walk through the door. They'll think I'm just getting home." he turned and almost ran down the latter. He turned the corner of the building and disappeared from sight. I hoped to God he would get there soon. All I needed was his grandma to walk in with some green tea for him and see my big ass sticking through the window. I realize it was 11 o'clock at night, but you know those crazy people are always unpredictable. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs from inside and prayed they were Arnold's. The door creaked open slowly and then shut. "You ok, Helga?" he whispered.
"No." I simply stated. I dangled my legs in hope that he'd get the idea that I want out as soon as possible. No such luck.
"I see you're a 'Hanes Her Way' type of girl." My face instantly became red, but for once it was safe to assume that he couldn't see me. "So how are we going to do this?" he asked, a little confused.
"Do I have to spell it out for you, criminy!" I threw my hands up.
"Apparently." he said, which fueled my frustration and anger more.
"Grab on my legs… and… pull…" I said, my voice trembling from anger, "that way I can grab onto the dress and make sure the whole thing doesn't rip off."
He got behind me and hesitantly grabbed onto my calves. He tugged a little, then stopped. He was probably afraid to hurt me.
"Oh come on, football head, you can do better than that!" I said, irritated. With renewed determination he grabbed a hold of my waist and violently pulled me out. There I go I again. Onto the floor. Jesus…
"I-I'm sorry, Helga! Did I hurt you?!" he asked, looking like a deer caught in headlights. I groaned. My ass REALLY hurt and the football head did nothing to break my fall. I realized then that his carpeting wasn't very soft.
"I'm fine." I said, irritably, lying on his floor. I stared up at the ceiling until he walked over to me and came into view, "I think I broke my tail bone." he chuckled.
"Oh, it's not that bad. You didn't even fall every hard." he reached out a hand and helped my up off the floor. I looked down at the tattered remains of Olga's dress. Heh, she'll never wear this one again, I said to myself, noticing the big tear down the middle. "I'll refund you for that dress if you want."
"No, that's ok, it's Olga's anyway." I muttered, dusting myself off.
"Since when do you wear Olga's clothes?" he question, walking over to his couch and sitting down.
"Since today, football head, you got a problem with that?!" I turned and sat down on his bed, crossing my arms.
"No, in fact maybe you should wear her clothes more often." he blushed, "But maybe you should wear things a little less… short." I shook my head.
"I look like a crack whore." I said, looking down at myself and laughing. He eventually joined in with me, "I don't think I'll be wearing this stuff on a regular basis."
Things fell silent for a second as I looked around his room. It really hadn't changed much since the last time it'd been there. Freshman year.
---Flashback---
That night was probably the worst and yet most wonderful experience of my life. Ronda had had one of her stupid snooty parties and by the second hour we were there mostly everyone was fixing to leave. Arnold, with all his bright ideas, suggested they finish the party at his house. Everyone was only too happy to oblige. As predicted, the party lasted for a good long while. The house lie in ruins for a few days after that, but that's a different story. Anyway, his grandparents really didn't mind, in fact it gave his grandma the chance to be the life the party with all her crazy ways. A lot of people snuck beer and wine coolers into the house and, not surprisingly, his grandparents knew nothing about it.
By 3 a.m. everyone was gone except me, Gerald, Phoebe, and Arnold, who were all up in his room. I knew for a fact that I'd had just a little too much to drink to I was pretty much a motionless blob on his bed while the three other people talked and joked around. Phoebe was my designated buddy. As long as she stayed there, I had to. I'm not stupid enough to try to walk home drunk off my ass. Arnold was also a little tipsy but still tried to join into the conversation whenever he could. That night was the first time Gerald and Phoebe kissed. That's when their relationship started, for real. Going back to the fact that I couldn't leave until Pheebs left, it really sucked for me having her with Gerald all night, talking and so forth. Gerald finally left at around 3:30 or 4.
"Helga, I'm going, lets get you home." Phoebe said, trying to help me off the bed. Phoebe, as small as she was, wasn't strong enough to get me up and so she gave up and thought a second about an alternative. "Arnold, do you think you could get Helga home? I'm tired and I don't think I could manage to get her even to the car." Phoebe looked down, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but-"
"I'll do it." he said. Standing up from his couch, "it's no inconvenience."
"Are you sure? I mean if you think Helga's bad when she's sober then,-"
"I can handle it." he said with a slight smile. "You'd better be getting home, though, it's late." Phoebe nodded and turned to look at me one more time. I made a slaphappy smile and waved goodbye to her. She smiled and turned to leave.
"Good luck," I heard her say to Arnold before leaving the room and shutting his door. He walked over to me and sat down along side me on the bed.
"I guess we'd better be getting you home, " he said. I still had a smile as I closed me eyes for a few seconds. The next thing I felt was him brushing my bangs away form my eyes. Things got very blurry after that. I couldn't remember how it happened or why, but… the next thing I knew we were in some sort of an embrace, kissing, touching… it was funny, under any other circumstances I would have slapped him silly for touching me in the places that he did. I wanted him to touch me. I guess that was the difference… after that things probably got a little out of control. I knew it was wrong, but I continued anyway.
Suddenly we were both lying on the bed and he'd positioned himself in a way over me. I knew we were still clothed at that point, but not for long. There was more touching, more feeling around. I got the impression that he'd never touched a girl the way he was touching me. I sensed he was really nervous.
That night I wore my usual outfit, a pair of baggy pants and a regular big t-shirt. His hands found their way inside my shirt and around to the back to my bra. We laughed a little as he struggled with the clasp. After fumbling with it unsuccessfully for minutes, I smiled and grabbed onto his arm. "Let me," I said with a slight giggle. I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it to the floor. Then came the bra. He looked down at me, blushing. I knew then for a fact that he'd never seen a girl naked.
Soon there were no clothes left on either of us and I suddenly thought that maybe he'd done this on purpose… that maybe his whole noble act to take me home was just to get into my pants, but I knew he wasn't like that. He wouldn't take advantage of someone in that way.
We were only 15 and didn't have much experience, if any, in that department. Although completely the opposite, that time seemed kind of innocent in a way. Neither of us really knew what we were doing. We experimented until we found what felt good. Contrary to what people had been telling me for years, my first time didn't hurt really at all. Maybe the alcohol acted as a painkiller or something. All I knew was that it felt natural. It felt right. He acted in ways I never knew he could. He was dominating at times; he took control when he felt it necessary. Coming from him, it made the whole experience that much more enjoyable and sexy… it made it fun.
The next morning reality came crashing in. Not only did I have a hangover from hell, but I'd lost my virginity to the football head. He and I sat in his bed, still naked, I holding up the blanket to cover myself. We didn't look at one another. It was awkward. What possessed us to act the way we did? I suddenly felt terrible. He had also lost his virginity… to me… of all people, I was his first. It must have been disappointing to him. When we finally found it in us to speak, we decided that we'd keep that *ahem* experience to ourselves. Act as though it never happened. Don't even tell Pheebs and Gerald. Ect… I felt horrible and I just wanted to go home. I got dressed, hurriedly and asked him to take me home… like he was supposed do to the night before.
After that, we stopped talking at school, or anywhere. Not completely, but we couldn't talk friendly anymore, not that we did a lot of that to begin with, but still… I began to make fun of him a lot again, treating him as if we were in 4th grade again…
----End Flashback---
I snapped out of my thought when he got up and walked over to his CD player. The song he played reminded me of something I'd heard on a commercial once. Pure Moods or something.
"What is this, mood music?" I asked, sarcastically. He nodded. "I didn't take you for the type that would listen to that."
"I listen to it to get my mind off of things…" he said and walked over to me, sitting next to me on the bed. Suddenly everything he did felt so familiar. "About the Lila thing," he started, coming out of nowhere, "it's not TOTALLY your fault I'm in I.S.S…. I mean, I did have some part in it or else principal Wartz wouldn't have put me in the class also." he looked down.
"Oh, come on, cheer up!" I said, rolling my eyes, "You'll get out by next week! It's not the end of the world!"
"Well, to me, it is. I've never even been in detention this year and suddenly I'm in alternative? I hope it doesn't mess up my record…" there was the guilt again. I hated feeling guilty.
"Well your record's gotta be better than mine, look at the bright side." I said, faking a smile, "I've gotten into detention more times this year than I can count. So many, they'll probably come back to haunt me at graduation and make it so I can't graduate. See, football head, you got it better than I do."
He smiled at this. Things fell silent again. The awkwardness…
"Remember that night… when Ronda's party was kinda cancelled and came to my house?" he asked, scratching the back of his head and looking away from me.
I froze. "I'm sure I don't know WHAT you're talking about." I said, looking away from him as well.
"Sure you do, remember, that was the night Phoebe and Gerald got together." he said. Was that all he was going to say about it?
"Ok, so I DO remember it… why do you bring it up?" I had to know.
"Well," he took a deep breath, "I was just thing about… well…" he laid back on his bed and stared up at the night sky through his skylight. "I was just thinking about what happened that night."
"Oh," I said, softly. I felt terrible all over again. "Look, I'm sorry…"
"For what?" he finally looked at me.
"For… you know… me being the… first." I said, lying back with him, both of us staring up.
"You don't have to be sorry, you know…"
"Yes I do… I saw how… disappointed you were… I knew you probably would have wanted to that stuff with someone you cared about."
"What? That's not true. If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't have. That wasn't why I was disappointed." I didn't get it.
"What do you mean?"
"Well… I felt horrible for… you know, taking advantage of you… I thought for sure you'd hate me… more than you already did, that is…" what the hell? All this time I thought I was the one who was supposed to be sorry.
"You didn't take advantage of me." I said, turning on my side to look at him, "We both had too much to drink… it just happened…"
"No, you don't understand. It didn't just happen. I didn't have that much to drink at all. First of all because if I got drunk my grandparents would be disappointed in me and angry… Well, anyway, I wasn't drunk. I knew full well what I was doing. I did. I did take advantage of you…" he what?! For some reason I didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did to hear that from him. He… used… me? I couldn't believe that. I looked away from him. I couldn't look at him; I couldn't let him see that he'd hurt me.
"Oh," I started softly, "so you just used me?" I got up from his bed. "I-I think I want to go home now."
"No, wait!" he said, getting off the bed as well. "Helga, you don't understand, I wanted to do that with you, I did! You weren't 'just there' or whatever, I wanted it to be with you!" he grabbed onto my shoulders. I looked away.
"Then why did we agree not to tell anyone? Were you ashamed of me?" I looked back at him, glaring.
"YOU were the one who decided we shouldn't tell anyone! I just agreed with you because I felt awful about what I did to you!"
"Why? I'm not a little girl, I can say no if I don't want something! If I didn't want you do that stuff with me, believe me bucko, you would have known."
Things fell silent for a second again, his hands still gripping my shoulders. "Helga…" he started. I looked back at him and I suddenly felt that old 'weak in the knees' thing. We looked at one another, eyes shifting from eyes to lips to eyes… I didn't feel angry or hurt anymore… I felt something… different…
I'm taking things into my own hands, I thought. Suddenly I violently grabbed onto the back of his head and pulled him toward me into a passionate kiss. He was taken by surprise but slowly went along with it and began kissing me back, just as hard…
-----
Jeeze, now I'm not so happy about making long chapters… there's too much to explain. I guess I'll have to continue into the next chapter.
