Chapter Six
Helga couldn't help feeling like she was being watched as she walked into Mr. Simmons's class and took her seat. In fact, everyone WAS staring at her, watching her every move, as if she might suddenly whip out a $100 and share it with them. Of course, Arnold, the polite person he was, was not staring, but couldn't help looking once in a while. When Mr. Simmons began talking, however, eyes gradually moved to watch him, instead of Helga. She was glad for it.
"Well class, I hope by now you've picked your "special place", because I want you to start your rough drafts today! You can do your project in any form of writing you wish, be it a poem or a regular old paper. I'm not going to talk anymore, because I want to give you all the time you need to do your projects." Immediately after he stopped talking, everyone else burst into conversation, and one of them stuck out from the rest:
"Hey, Sid. I bet you can't figure out what Heeeelga is going to do for HER special place project!"
"Yeah, of course I can. SHE'S gonna do it on her big, fancy maaansion on the hill!"
"Ooh, right! OF COURSE! I guess she thinks she's better than us now that she's RICH, huh?"
"Yeah, Harold! She's so high and mighty. C'mon everyone! Let's all bow down to Helga G. Pataki, our new ruler!"
"HA!"
Helga grit her teeth. Not only was it insulting, it was pathetic. It was so obvious what they were trying to do, and they couldn't even do it right. Of course, the whole class shrugged them off, but you could tell that they got the point. They planted the idea in their heads, and now it would be even harder to convince them that she is still the same Helga. She wanted to punch them. Hard.
Unfortunately, Mr. Simmons got there first, and gave them detention for rude misbehavior. They shut up after that. Helga tried to pay attention to her project, so that she could finish it before the weekend.
But what was her special place? It wasn't the mansion, that's for sure. She hadn't even gotten used to the idea of being rich yet, let alone the mansion. But what could it be…Dr. Bliss's office? Nah, there were better places, even though she loved going there. Maybe…her old room? Getting closer. Arnold's house? Wait, Mr. Simmons is READING these…and that's not good anyway. What could there possibly be? Maybe he'd let her write a paper on the fact that she doesn't have one. She sighed, and brought out her straw to fire a spitball at Arnold's head.
It was right on target. Arnold looked around and glared as usual. She sighed again. At least nothing with Arnold had changed, even if it was a poor connection.
"Oh, Class! I forgot! There's news of a dance coming up next Friday! We still don't know where it will be, but I thought I'd tell you about it." Mr. Simmons noticed that not many people were listening, so he sat back down. Then his head shot up. He motioned for Helga to come up to his desk.
"Helga…I was thinking. About the dance, do you…have any ideas on where the dance should be? I was…thinking about maybe having it in your mans - er - house…?" Helga was surprised, but mumbled a quick 'I'll think about it' and went back to her seat.
So even Mr. Simmons had changed too. Trying to take advantage of her new position in the mansion when even SHE hadn't gotten used to it yet. The nerve of him! How dare he act as if it was "no big deal"! Oh yeah, sure, let's just not let her have any time to herself in her house, and have the whole school come over to mess it up! Oh, maybe she was overreacting. Maybe - then she noticed Arnold looking back at her. Her heart missed a beat. She unclenched her fist, which was turning white, and looked up.
"What do YOU want, Football Head?" he just sighed.
"I was wondering what that was about with Mr. Simmons, and why you look so mad." He said. I growled.
"None of your business. Mr. Simmons is just…never mind. Shouldn't you be doing your project?"
"I don't know where to do it on."
"You and me both."
"Huh, I thought-"
"What, you thought that I'd naturally just do it on my new mansion? Huh? Is that what you thought? I'm sick and tired of everyone assuming things! No one knows me well enough, not even Phoebe, to predict or assume what I'm like or what I'll do. Especially YOU, Arnold!" Arnold shrank back, and gave her an angry but almost hurt look.
"Actually, I was just going to say that I thought you were maybe going to do it on Gerald Field. That's all." And then he turned away, cutting off the conversation. Helga slumped down in her chair. Once again, she took another step farther away from him than she was before.
Helga couldn't help feeling like she was being watched as she walked into Mr. Simmons's class and took her seat. In fact, everyone WAS staring at her, watching her every move, as if she might suddenly whip out a $100 and share it with them. Of course, Arnold, the polite person he was, was not staring, but couldn't help looking once in a while. When Mr. Simmons began talking, however, eyes gradually moved to watch him, instead of Helga. She was glad for it.
"Well class, I hope by now you've picked your "special place", because I want you to start your rough drafts today! You can do your project in any form of writing you wish, be it a poem or a regular old paper. I'm not going to talk anymore, because I want to give you all the time you need to do your projects." Immediately after he stopped talking, everyone else burst into conversation, and one of them stuck out from the rest:
"Hey, Sid. I bet you can't figure out what Heeeelga is going to do for HER special place project!"
"Yeah, of course I can. SHE'S gonna do it on her big, fancy maaansion on the hill!"
"Ooh, right! OF COURSE! I guess she thinks she's better than us now that she's RICH, huh?"
"Yeah, Harold! She's so high and mighty. C'mon everyone! Let's all bow down to Helga G. Pataki, our new ruler!"
"HA!"
Helga grit her teeth. Not only was it insulting, it was pathetic. It was so obvious what they were trying to do, and they couldn't even do it right. Of course, the whole class shrugged them off, but you could tell that they got the point. They planted the idea in their heads, and now it would be even harder to convince them that she is still the same Helga. She wanted to punch them. Hard.
Unfortunately, Mr. Simmons got there first, and gave them detention for rude misbehavior. They shut up after that. Helga tried to pay attention to her project, so that she could finish it before the weekend.
But what was her special place? It wasn't the mansion, that's for sure. She hadn't even gotten used to the idea of being rich yet, let alone the mansion. But what could it be…Dr. Bliss's office? Nah, there were better places, even though she loved going there. Maybe…her old room? Getting closer. Arnold's house? Wait, Mr. Simmons is READING these…and that's not good anyway. What could there possibly be? Maybe he'd let her write a paper on the fact that she doesn't have one. She sighed, and brought out her straw to fire a spitball at Arnold's head.
It was right on target. Arnold looked around and glared as usual. She sighed again. At least nothing with Arnold had changed, even if it was a poor connection.
"Oh, Class! I forgot! There's news of a dance coming up next Friday! We still don't know where it will be, but I thought I'd tell you about it." Mr. Simmons noticed that not many people were listening, so he sat back down. Then his head shot up. He motioned for Helga to come up to his desk.
"Helga…I was thinking. About the dance, do you…have any ideas on where the dance should be? I was…thinking about maybe having it in your mans - er - house…?" Helga was surprised, but mumbled a quick 'I'll think about it' and went back to her seat.
So even Mr. Simmons had changed too. Trying to take advantage of her new position in the mansion when even SHE hadn't gotten used to it yet. The nerve of him! How dare he act as if it was "no big deal"! Oh yeah, sure, let's just not let her have any time to herself in her house, and have the whole school come over to mess it up! Oh, maybe she was overreacting. Maybe - then she noticed Arnold looking back at her. Her heart missed a beat. She unclenched her fist, which was turning white, and looked up.
"What do YOU want, Football Head?" he just sighed.
"I was wondering what that was about with Mr. Simmons, and why you look so mad." He said. I growled.
"None of your business. Mr. Simmons is just…never mind. Shouldn't you be doing your project?"
"I don't know where to do it on."
"You and me both."
"Huh, I thought-"
"What, you thought that I'd naturally just do it on my new mansion? Huh? Is that what you thought? I'm sick and tired of everyone assuming things! No one knows me well enough, not even Phoebe, to predict or assume what I'm like or what I'll do. Especially YOU, Arnold!" Arnold shrank back, and gave her an angry but almost hurt look.
"Actually, I was just going to say that I thought you were maybe going to do it on Gerald Field. That's all." And then he turned away, cutting off the conversation. Helga slumped down in her chair. Once again, she took another step farther away from him than she was before.