Standardized Disclaimer: I, Chinyere, hereby acknowledge that I do not own Hey Arnold! nor the characters that are referenced within, nor am I a hired writer with permission to use their names on this site. However, there is a likelihood that original characters will be created and portrayed within this text. Thank you.

The Sixth Grader

Part I: Suspicions

Phoebe and I were walking home from a baseball game down in Gerald Field the day that I felt something very strange was going on. I mean, usually I'm not too paranoid about people following me or breathing down my back, because it's almost always Brainy, and I'd just sock him in the nose. I didn't feel any breathing this time, but I just had that feeling…like I was being watched or something.

"Well Phoebs, there ends another great game. I still think we should've made it a shut out, instead of mercying them," I said, tossing my baseball into the air. Phoebe watched as I caught the ball every time, and then adjusted her glasses much in the way she always does.

"I don't know if I would call that truly mercying, Helga. After all, they only had one home run," Phoebe reasoned, letting her bat drag on the ground, making an annoying scratching sound.

I sighed, shaking my head, thinking back to the last homer. "Yeah, and that was just a lucky one, too…shouldn'a made it at all," I said, before cutting a sharp glance at Phoebe. "And stop dragging that stupid bat on the ground…you're making me nervous," I shouted at her, though not meaning to.

Phoebe lifted the bat from the ground and swung it over her shoulder. "Stopping!" We continued walking towards my house, in silence, until finally Phoebe made one of her astute observations. "I don't know, Helga, seems like you're a little bit more---high strung---than you usually are. Are you sure that Arnold's bat didn't hit you harder than you thought?" she said, looking up at me as we rounded a corner.

I had forgotten about that! I rubbed my head where it was still slightly tender and remembered the way that Arnold had held my head in his hands until he was sure that I could see straight again. "Ah, well, it barely grazed me, Phoebe. Jeez, you're acting like I'm going delusional here," I chuckled nervously as we continued on the way home. I still was incredibly uneasy, though, and I looked for somewhere to hide, perhaps where I wasn't so out in the open, where I could tell Phoebe exactly what I felt. I then saw the alley through which I could get to the back lot of my house.

I glanced behind me; seeing that no one was apparently watching me, I grabbed Phoebe by the arm and ran into the alley. Once we reached the alley, I slowed to a casual walk and let go of Phoebe's arm. Phoebe rubbed her arm where I grabbed it and glared at me. "Gee, Helga, what was that all about?" she asked, looking at her arm as if I left a mark.

"Shhhhh!" I hissed at Phoebe, still looking around me. I then ducked behind a garbage can and Phoebe followed me. "Listen, Phoebs, I don't know how to say this, but…for the past few days now, I don't know…it feels like I'm being…followed."

Phoebe looked at me strangely before she started to giggle. As her giggling erupted into laughter, I scowled at her. The laughter was abrupt. "Oh, sorry Helga, it's just that…your notion is so ridiculous!"

"And what, pray tell, is so ridiculous about it?" I growled, beginning to get annoyed.

"Oh, nothing, Helga…I suppose fears of being followed are founded, but…you?" she began giggling again, but again cut it short. "I never would have guessed that you could be teetering on the brink of paranoia."

I grabbed Phoebe by the collar and pulled her closer to me. "But you don't get it, Phoebe!" I said, whispering loudly. I looked around again, and then spoke even more softly. "You know how I always know when Brainy's around me, right? Well, I'm almost certain that someone is here now. I'm pretty sure Phoebs, got that?" I then let go of Phoebe, and she adjusted her collar before thinking on it.

Phoebe then began to giggle again, but didn't stop when I scowled at her. "Yeah, and I'm pretty sure you got smacked upside the head with that bat pretty hard, Helga. Relax! I mean, who would be following you around?" I raised my eyebrow at Phoebe, and then she stuttered, realizing what she had just said. "I mean…I didn't mean for it to come out…well…no offense."

"None taken," I said, half-truthfully, as I held out my hand for Phoebe to get me from behind the garbage cans. It was half-truthfully because it did sting a little. By now, I was the only one in the fifth grade who hadn't been paired up at least once. I mean, sure, there was Stinky in the fourth grade, but a relationship based on daily Mr. Nutty Bars doesn't really count. "Maybe you're right, Phoebs…maybe I'm just a little bit delusional. Maybe I need to take an aspirin and lie down for a while, and maybe this will all go away."

Phoebe nodded. "Here Helga, I'll make sure you don't pass out again," she said, giggling.

I had to start laughing, too. "Oh yeah, and Phoebe…smacked upside the head?" I mocked.

Phoebe blushed, and I knew I had gotten her. "Oh, I guess I just picked that up from Gerald, that's all," she said, bowing her head.

As we walked out of the alley, and to the back lot of my house, I felt slightly better. For one, the nagging feeling that I was being followed was gone, but mainly, my head did not hurt so much any more. But, I didn't know that this incident was only the beginning of an experience I know I will love and dread for the rest of my life.

"Hey Phoebs, get a load of the stooges," I said the next day at school as we entered the playground early that morning. Practically the entire fifth grade class was crowded around the foursquare court, watching like they'd never seen a game of foursquare before. "I wonder what's so interesting."

Phoebe stopped in her tracks and observed the group. "Well, it appears as if the game is not the object of interest as much as those, or should I say, he who is playing it, is," Phoebe finally concluded.

"Well duh, Phoebe," I said, as I squinted at the crowd. Besides the shouts from the actual game, there was a low mumble surrounding the group. It was too intriguing to pass by, so I relented and followed the crowd for once. "Ah well, we might as well go see what all the fuss is about. C'mon Phoebs." With that, I led Phoebe to the foursquare court just in time to hear the Rhonda's voice over the rest of the crowd.

"Yeah, well, I heard he almost spent two years up at Juvi, but that his rich uncle came and rescued him, but he was forbidden to go back to his old school, and that's why he's here now," Rhonda recounted, her eyes halfway closed. "Then it'd be no wonder why he came so late in the school year."

As I advanced toward the center of the group, I pushed ahead in the crowd. "Step aside, Princess, I gotta see what's going on here," I said the Rhonda, but she wouldn't move.

She gasped, as if what I had just said was unbelievable. "You mean, you don't know?"

I glared at her. "Oh yeah, so what if I don't?" I growled, showing my teeth. Rhonda, as usual, did not respond to my hostilities.

"Well, Helga, if you knew anything whatsoever of the social circle in this school, you would have known by now. But, I guess that's why I'm here…to inform the lowly," she said, tossing her head towards the sky. I rolled my eyes. "Well, if you must know, the sixth grade new boy is back."

Finding this information quite immaterial, I glanced at Phoebe, who shrugged. "And we're supposed to care because…" I said, widening my eyes at Rhonda.

Nadine spoke up. "He got off with only one week's suspension after cussing out Principal Wartz, and he's back now," Nadine said, returning her attention to the crowd, even though she could see absolutely nothing over the head in front of her. She sighed. "It's like, he's all of a sudden the most popular guy at school or something."

"He is, Nadine!" Rhonda corrected, as she too returned to the group. "I don't know why, though…he certainly doesn't dress in the latest fashions. I mean, look at him. Bad boy wear was so last year," Rhonda said, shaking her head and folding her arms.

Suddenly, Lila stepped in from another side of the crowd. "He's not very nice either," she added, rubbing her arm and looking sort of scruffy. "I was walking in the hall this morning and accidentally bumped into him, and I excused myself, but he pushed me back anyway."

"And he certainly isn't law-abiding," Sheena came forward to say. "He makes it a point not to throw his garbage in the trash cans."

This was all very foreign to me. They talked as if they really didn't like him at all. "So, what's the big deal with this guy, if he's got all these faults?"

"Are you kidding, Helga! He's an absolute, total hottie," Rhonda affirmed. All of the girls surrounding Rhonda nodded their heads and agreed in a low murmur. Whoa…this was something I had to see.

"Hmm, a hottie, huh? This I gotta see. C'mon, Phoebs…let's go see if this guy is all he's cracked up to be," I said, turning to where I thought I'd find Phoebe. I turned back to see that she was already pushing her way through the crowds. I followed closely behind her, ignoring the scowls and the jeers of those who I pushed. When I finally got to the front of the crowd, it was obvious whom everyone was watching. I heard Phoebe gasp in surprise when she reached the front of the crowd, and I looked to.

He was tall, but not so tall, just taller than the rest. His black hair hung in loose curls over his forehead, and over the tips of his ears. His face was slightly angular; his brown eyes narrow with intensity, his lips drawn. His ears stuck out a little, but weren't too big. He was kind of dark, like he had been in the sun all of his life, but not sunburned. He was kind of bulky, like he'd been lifting weights since he was a kid or something, but he wasn't fat. He had removed his jacket and was now wearing a clean, white tank top, lying loosely over his large, junky jeans. And while I stared at him, trying to see what he was all about, he stopped whatever it was he was doing, and he stared back at me.

As we glared at each other, his eyes softened and opened slightly wider, and I was able to see the dark brown of his eye. He stepped forward, and I stepped back, and the crowd grew silent, watching the two of us. It was like some kind of odd dance, between us two. By now, the crowd had shifted so only we were at the center, rounding the foursquare court but never coming into contact. It was when we stopped and I had a chance to really take a look at him that I came to a realization…that he was not my type.

I put my hands on my hips and grunted. "What! Is this it? I was expecting to see more than…this. Jeez, what a grand waste of my time!" And with that, I turned my back on him, with no intention of repeating that little ritual ever again. "You comin' Phoebe," I called as I walked from the crowd.

"Um…coming," Phoebe said absently, giggling as she left the scene of our little display. I trudged to the school entrance, just as the warning bell rang for us to go back to class. I didn't realize it yet, walking back to class with my usual scowl, but when I walked away from that court, from the crowd, from those eyes…I had become the most popular girl at PS 118.

Later that day, as I was doing my geometry in Ms. Lawry's class, I heard Rhonda starting something in the back of the room. I could hear hushed whispers and momentary giggles from her corner, and every time I looked in their direction, suddenly, nothing was funny. I raised an eyebrow at them, but pretty much ignored them from then on. Rhonda and I, from the beginning of the fifth grade, had this kind of inherent rivalry…for control. She was as convinced that she could rule with her looks and money as I was with my leadership, my authority…and my iron fist. So, if she were saying something about me, I immediately became suspicious…but I didn't want to let on that I was. So, I kept my head in my math book and identified the triangle…acute, obtuse or isosceles.

Arnold usually sat in the middle of the class with Gerald, but I guess since Gerald wasn't there, he scooted up with me. This really surprised me, because usually, at least for the past year, Arnold has been avoiding me…talking to me directly, at least. I mean, he'd play a game of baseball, maybe football, with me, something that didn't actually require talking. Or, he'd do a project, if he absolutely had to. But, in terms of talking to me…not much. It was like he was scared of me or something.

He spoke first. "Whoa, Helga, I thought you said you were no good in math, and you've got half the assignment done already," Arnold noticed, looking at my sheet of paper. I knew he was making small talk to introduce a topic more serious, and I was impatient.

"Well, if you heard that, I sure didn't tell you, since you haven't really said anything to me the entire year, Arnold," I edged. His face dropped, and he flushed a little, as he knew exactly what I was talking about. "Anyway, I know you didn't scoot up here to talk to me about math. So whatever it is, spill it."

After that, Arnold didn't hesitate. "Do you know Jeremy?" he said, scooting even closer to me.

I shrugged. "That really doesn't tell me anything, Arnold. I think I have a cousin named Jeremy," I said, scratching my head.

"I mean, Jeremy Fischer," Arnold clarified. That still didn't mean anything to me, and I gave him a blank look. "You know…the guy this morning, in the four ball court, you must have seen him…"

"What, the sixth grader?" I asked, remembering the big hunk of nothing that everyone had made such a big deal about. I then started thinking…why did Arnold care whether or not I knew Jeremy or not? "What's it to you?"

Arnold scratched his head. "Well, the way you guys were looking at each other this morning, I thought that maybe you were long lost friends or something…"

"And?"

"…and I thought that maybe, if you were friends, you could ask him if we could get the foursquare court back during recess," Arnold finished. It figured. Arnold was so simple sometimes…all he wanted was the foursquare court, then why didn't he ask for it?

"Well then, Football Head, why don't you ask him for the court yourself? You certainly don't need me to do anything for you, since his highness can only talk to certain people now," I said, knowing that I could get Arnold with a statement like that. I looked back at him, and he was still looking at me like he wanted a piece of information. "And not that it's any of your business, Hair Boy, but I've never met that Jeremy dude before in my life," I said, writing my name on top of my math homework and taking it up to the homework bin to be turned in early. "And frankly, I don't know what all the fuss is about, anyway."

I don't think Arnold knew I was looking, but I saw him heave a sigh. Like a sigh of relief. I didn't know what that was at the time, so I just ignored it. He returned to his seat after gaining this little piece of information, and I sat down at mine and read a note that Phoebe had passed to me while I was gone. And Arnold and I returned to the state we had been in all year…comfortable silence. Except now, I felt somewhat awkward…Football Head and Hair Boy had almost become pet names, and it had been so long since we were that familiar.

That evening, I had dinner at the Heyerdahl's and got to help make dinner with Phoebe's mom and dad. That was cool. After dinner was over, Phoebe walked me to the door, with a thermos in her hands. I walked outside, and immediately paused because I had that feeling again…but I didn't want to think anything of it. I had forced myself to ignore it all day…in the halls at school, at recess, on the way to Phoebe's…but it had followed me around. So, I forced my mind to change the subject.

"Hey Phoebs, what's with the thermos?" I asked casually as we walked down the stairs together, Phoebe lugging the thermos over her shoulder.

Phoebe grunted, but continued walking in small, quick steps behind me. "Oh, this is just some of my Grandmother's special recipe, cold remedy soup. Fresh ingredients and everything," Phoebe said proudly as we progressed. "Mrs. Johannsen said Gerald had a cold or something, so I volunteered my Grandmother's soup."

I didn't say anything. I was too caught up in my own thoughts to worry about Gerald and Phoebe's relationship. When I didn't respond, Phoebe looked up at me, and I shot her a quick smirk as if I was mocking her relationship with Gerald. Phoebe just giggled, like she always did, and blushed. That got her mind off of my preoccupation really quickly. One thing I can say about Gerald and Phoebe is that they have had the longest lasting relationship in elementary school history, lasting from almost the beginning of the fourth grade. But, they have always kept it low key. I don't understand them. Like, if Arnold and I were ever to have a relationship, I would tell the world…and I guess that might be one reason why Arnold and I don't have any relationship…not even like what we had in fourth grade, when I pestered him.

These thoughts took my mind off of the whole paranoia notion for a while, until Phoebe awakened my senses again when she spoke. "Well Helga, I'll see you later, then," she said suddenly, going in the opposite direction of my house.

I snapped out of my thought-provoked daze, quickly. "Huh, where you going, Phoebs?"

Phoebe shook her head. "I just told you, Helga, I have to drop this at Gerald's. I'll see you tomorrow at school, okay?" she said, casting a look of concern at me. I dodged it by turning my head in the direction of my house.

"Oh yeah, sure Phoebe. See ya," I mumbled. With that, Phoebe turned the other way. I was now utterly alone, except for the few passers by who walked through the neighborhood. The sky was bright orange as the sun was setting, kind of like the bright orange it is before a bad storm. There was no ceiling to speak of, and a few wispy clouds lingered in the sunset. As I walked to my house, the route in which I knew instinctively without looking, I glared up at the sky. I thought about a lot of things, mainly Arnold. I thought about how I regretted that he felt really uncomfortable speaking to me, and how somehow, I now felt the same. I thought about how things seemed worse now that he knew how I felt. I thought about how terrible secrets were, if only a few people knew, than if no one else knew. My thoughts became incoherent as I looked up at the sky, and the clouds blended with the orange, which engulfed the blue, which cascaded in the east into a dim twilight.

Suddenly, this image was shaken from me. I was grabbed roughly by the arm and dragged into the alley nearby the house. And I was dead scared.