Chapter Eight
Rhonda Wellington Lloyd sat in her luxurious living room, and she was painting her nails with the finest nail polish you could ever hope to buy. Yo Ernest was on her large screen television, and it was a bright, sunny day.
Her father walked in, and Rhonda hardly looked up. "Pumpkin?"
"Mm hmm"
"I'm going golfing, and I expect it will be a long game. Are you alright by yourself for a few hours while your mother is away at her aerobics class?" Rhonda nodded, but then looked up curiously.
"I thought you were out of the tournament, daddy! And isn't it a little…late?"
"Oh, this is a private game. I'm playing Bob Pataki. And I rather like late games." Rhonda's eyes widened at that, not the "late games" part, but the Bob Pataki part, and she nearly smudged her nail polish. Nearly.
"You mean Helga's dad?"
"Yes. He recently acquired a lot of money. Not as much as us, of course, but almost. He seems very sure of his golfing skills." Rhonda was amazed that they got almost as much money as her parents have in one day.
"How much money does he have?"
"Oh, somewhere around 31 million. I'm not sure." Rhonda went back to doing her nails, but started considering something. Helga's family was rich, and that meant that Helga herself was….an equal? No. Maybe…she was obviously in her league now, but Rhonda Wellington Lloyd is still the most classy, and rich, kid around.
"Well, goodbye daddy. Be sure and win!" She said, with a short laugh. If Bob DID win, she'd never hear the end of it from Helga, that's for sure.
Helga and Bob got back to the mansion at the exact same time. How that happened, Helga didn't know, and neither did Bob. They walked up to the door, and put their hands on the doorknob at the exact same time. They suddenly noticed each other, and turned to stare.
"WHAT are you doing out so late, little lady?"
"I stay out late ALL the TIME, Bob, if you paid any attention you would know that! I just took a walk, that's all."
Bob narrowed his eyes before replying, "I'd better not see you doing that again. It wouldn't look good for me if someone saw you running free-reign in the middle of the night, unsupervised. They might think I was a negligent father." Helga snorted at this, and proceeded to walk through the door. "I didn't hear you say 'yes', Olga!"
"My name's HELGA!" And that last exclamation was all Bob got in the way of a "yes", and he didn't bother to pursue. Helga ran to the room of the house specifically identified as her place to sleep and put her things in, which was DEFINITELY not her room, and flopped on the bed. If she weren't so mad, she would probably appreciate the softness of the mattress, and the satin sheets. She grabbed a baseball, and threw it at the ceiling, playing catch with herself.
"The NERVE of him! To actually think that he CARED about what I was doing was a very fleeting thought. He threw THAT in the garbage, and replaced it with the idea I've had since I was a kid, just like that. All he cares about is what his rich friends think of him. Bob is just a self-absorbed jerk, and I'm the accident that he never wants to think about." Helga threw the ball at the ceiling so hard that it made a dent, and then stopped. She turned on her side and wept.
In the hallway outside, Bob was storming towards Helga's room. He was about to shout a tirade through the door, but an unexpected noise halted his actions. The sound of Helga's pitiful sobs came out through the cracks between the door and frame, and it stopped Bob cold. He had never heard Helga cry, not like that.
He raised his arm to knock, but something held him back. Maybe it was that he didn't want to bother with it, or maybe he just didn't want to make her even worse. The latter was most likely, as he slowly walked back down the corridors to his room.
He had never really thought about Helga too much. She seemed like the kind of person who could fend for herself, and hold her own without too much help. He just figured that he could school her, and then maybe he wouldn't have to give her much attention. Now he started to wonder.
Had he really brought her to tears? Was he really that bad of a parent? What did he do? Olga turned out fine…..but Bob had paid much more attention to her than to Helga. Helga never seemed to care what Bob did, or thought, but now he wondered. Was she really the self-sufficient person he thought she was?
Bob stared at the ceiling, as if it had the answers he reached for. After a few more hours of these thoughts, he finally drifted into slumber.
Helga had heard him leave. She stared at the door, thinking maybe she had imagined it, but she knew she didn't. She stared out the window to the moon, and thought about his possible motives for coming, but the only reason she could come up with was that he came to rant some more. She wrinkled her face, and stubbornly tried to fall asleep. She didn't want to be too tired to seek and destroy Sid tomorrow. He's gonna be in for much more than just a locker-stuffing, that's for sure.
^oo^ PIGGY!!!!!!
-I. Krag
Rhonda Wellington Lloyd sat in her luxurious living room, and she was painting her nails with the finest nail polish you could ever hope to buy. Yo Ernest was on her large screen television, and it was a bright, sunny day.
Her father walked in, and Rhonda hardly looked up. "Pumpkin?"
"Mm hmm"
"I'm going golfing, and I expect it will be a long game. Are you alright by yourself for a few hours while your mother is away at her aerobics class?" Rhonda nodded, but then looked up curiously.
"I thought you were out of the tournament, daddy! And isn't it a little…late?"
"Oh, this is a private game. I'm playing Bob Pataki. And I rather like late games." Rhonda's eyes widened at that, not the "late games" part, but the Bob Pataki part, and she nearly smudged her nail polish. Nearly.
"You mean Helga's dad?"
"Yes. He recently acquired a lot of money. Not as much as us, of course, but almost. He seems very sure of his golfing skills." Rhonda was amazed that they got almost as much money as her parents have in one day.
"How much money does he have?"
"Oh, somewhere around 31 million. I'm not sure." Rhonda went back to doing her nails, but started considering something. Helga's family was rich, and that meant that Helga herself was….an equal? No. Maybe…she was obviously in her league now, but Rhonda Wellington Lloyd is still the most classy, and rich, kid around.
"Well, goodbye daddy. Be sure and win!" She said, with a short laugh. If Bob DID win, she'd never hear the end of it from Helga, that's for sure.
Helga and Bob got back to the mansion at the exact same time. How that happened, Helga didn't know, and neither did Bob. They walked up to the door, and put their hands on the doorknob at the exact same time. They suddenly noticed each other, and turned to stare.
"WHAT are you doing out so late, little lady?"
"I stay out late ALL the TIME, Bob, if you paid any attention you would know that! I just took a walk, that's all."
Bob narrowed his eyes before replying, "I'd better not see you doing that again. It wouldn't look good for me if someone saw you running free-reign in the middle of the night, unsupervised. They might think I was a negligent father." Helga snorted at this, and proceeded to walk through the door. "I didn't hear you say 'yes', Olga!"
"My name's HELGA!" And that last exclamation was all Bob got in the way of a "yes", and he didn't bother to pursue. Helga ran to the room of the house specifically identified as her place to sleep and put her things in, which was DEFINITELY not her room, and flopped on the bed. If she weren't so mad, she would probably appreciate the softness of the mattress, and the satin sheets. She grabbed a baseball, and threw it at the ceiling, playing catch with herself.
"The NERVE of him! To actually think that he CARED about what I was doing was a very fleeting thought. He threw THAT in the garbage, and replaced it with the idea I've had since I was a kid, just like that. All he cares about is what his rich friends think of him. Bob is just a self-absorbed jerk, and I'm the accident that he never wants to think about." Helga threw the ball at the ceiling so hard that it made a dent, and then stopped. She turned on her side and wept.
In the hallway outside, Bob was storming towards Helga's room. He was about to shout a tirade through the door, but an unexpected noise halted his actions. The sound of Helga's pitiful sobs came out through the cracks between the door and frame, and it stopped Bob cold. He had never heard Helga cry, not like that.
He raised his arm to knock, but something held him back. Maybe it was that he didn't want to bother with it, or maybe he just didn't want to make her even worse. The latter was most likely, as he slowly walked back down the corridors to his room.
He had never really thought about Helga too much. She seemed like the kind of person who could fend for herself, and hold her own without too much help. He just figured that he could school her, and then maybe he wouldn't have to give her much attention. Now he started to wonder.
Had he really brought her to tears? Was he really that bad of a parent? What did he do? Olga turned out fine…..but Bob had paid much more attention to her than to Helga. Helga never seemed to care what Bob did, or thought, but now he wondered. Was she really the self-sufficient person he thought she was?
Bob stared at the ceiling, as if it had the answers he reached for. After a few more hours of these thoughts, he finally drifted into slumber.
Helga had heard him leave. She stared at the door, thinking maybe she had imagined it, but she knew she didn't. She stared out the window to the moon, and thought about his possible motives for coming, but the only reason she could come up with was that he came to rant some more. She wrinkled her face, and stubbornly tried to fall asleep. She didn't want to be too tired to seek and destroy Sid tomorrow. He's gonna be in for much more than just a locker-stuffing, that's for sure.
^oo^ PIGGY!!!!!!
-I. Krag