Chapter 2: An Accident
"Man, Arnold. You're just not havin' much luck today, are ya". Gerald said as the two of them grabbed their lunch trays and got in line. "I guess not". Arnold said casually. His stomach growled again, and he grinned. All morning he'd waited to get his hands on some tapioca, he hoped Gerald had heard right about it being served that day. He hastily made his choices of other foods and hurried along to the desserts. When he got there, though, there wasn't a single cup of tapioca to be seen. There was, however, a large empty area among the other desserts where Arnold figured the tapioca must have been. When Gerald caught up with him and saw that the tapioca was gone, he groaned. "Oh well". Arnold said, doing well at keeping his cool, as usual, as he chose a different dessert and headed to the end of the line to pay for his food. The lady behind the cash register sat with a bored look upon her face, blowing a bubble out her mouth with a piece of bubble gum she'd probably been chewing all morning. Arnold set his tray down and dug into his pocket, only to find it completely empty save one penny! "Oh, no..." He muttered, remembering what he'd done with his lunch money. "What's wrong?" Gerald asked behind him. "I forgot my lunch money, Gerald". Arnold said, ignoring the fact that it was sort of a lie, and Gerald dug into his own pocket. "Here, I got extra". He said, handing the money to Arnold, who thanked him and paid for his food. He took his tray and headed for an empty table. Gerald sat with him and they talked a while as they ate their lunch. The rest of the cafeteria buzzed loudly with other high school students talking, laughing, yelling; it was a lot noisier than the lunch room back at PS-118. Suddenly someone bumped into Arnold and sent their soda on his face and down into his t-shirt! Arnold jumped out of his seat and was not surprised to find Helga standing there, regaining control of her tray. "Oops, sorry football-head". She said sarcastically and continued on her way. Arnold gritted his teeth and sat back down. He didn't want to go clean up or he'd never get a chance to eat his lunch, which he owed Gerald money for. He could feel the drops of soda running down his neck and back, and he scowled as he ate his lunch in silence. Gerald said no thing, only looked over at him every once in a while. Poor Arnold, he thought. Every day it gets harder for the kid to hold onto his temper. Ever since they started high school Gerald had noticed a slight change in Arnold's behavior. It slowly became harder for him to just let things pass, or to look on the bright side like he used to do so well. Oh sure, he was still a kind, positive, pacifistic kid, but there were some days, like this one, where his anger just ate him up inside. Though Arnold didn't know it, his best friend could see right through his act.
Meanwhile at another table, Helga sat down hard onto the seat and put her head in her hands for a moment. Why did you do that, stupid, she thought, mentally kicking herself. You could have at least apologized to him. Why must you constantly torment him with each passing moment that you're in his presence? It may be the last time that you are, can't you just be nice? "He probably won't even notice when I'm gone". She muttered with defeat as she picked at her food with a fork. I miss phoebe. Phoebe had gone to a special school up state, and would be home in a couple weeks. Though Helga didn't show it, she was so excited that she couldn't wait to see her best friend again. The only thing she dreaded was telling her the news. And Arnold. Was she going to be able to tell Arnold? Or did she even need to. Would he even care? Helga sighed and continued to pick at her food.
After school a bunch of people gathered at Gerald field to play baseball, their favorite pastime. Arnold didn't really want to come with his ankle in so much pain, but Gerald convinced him to come anyway and he sat on the bench watching with a few other people. The game was tied with two outs for Gerald's team, and Helga was pitching. "Hey, football-head, you wussin' out or what!?" She shouted, and Arnold scowled. "I don't feel like playing today". He stated simply, and she spit in the dirt. "Right, you're just wussin' out as usual". "I am not". "Hey, lay off, Helga". Gerald said, and Helga glared at him. "Stay outta this, tall-hair boy". Gerald shrugged and said no more. "Hey, I don't care if Arnoldo decides to be a wimp, not my problem, we got this game in the bag anyway". And with that she prepared to pitch for Eugene, who was up next to bat. This meant that they were most likely going to loose. Even as a freshman in high school, Eugene could never manage to get ride of his curse for being a jinx. "Fine!" Arnold shouted angrily, limping off of the makeshift bleachers and grabbing a bat. "Can I bat in your place, Eugene? And you can bat after me". Eugene nodded, understanding completely. "Sure, Arnold. You can bat in my place anytime". Eugene stepped back and took a seat on the bench with the other players on Gerald's team. Arnold, ignoring the pain in his ankle, stepped up to the base and made ready to hit Helga's fast ball. "You don't have to do this, ya know". Gerald said. "I know". Arnold replied. "Well, well, well, look who came out to play". Helga taunted, winding her arm back and letting the ball fly. Arnold swung the bat, but the ball whizzed past and Gerald caught it. Arnold sucked in a deep breath, he should have been more careful with the way he twisted his leg around trying to swing. Helga noticed the pained expression on his face, but it only lasted a moment before a look of angered determination replaced it and he made ready to bat again. So she ignored the look of pain and prepared to pitch again. This time, when Arnold swung the bat there was a soft crack. The ball didn't go very far. Arnold dropped the bat and fell, grabbing his ankle. "Hey, you alright, man?" Gerald asked, and Arnold shook his head. Gerald came to his side and helped him up. "What happened?" He asked. "Nothing, I just need to sit". Arnold said painfully, and while a bunch of kids chased after the ball, the rest ran their bases and cheered for their victory. "Well, well, looks like ya came through, football-head". "Yeah, Helga, whatever you say". "Hey, what's wrong with your leg?" When Arnold didn't answer, Gerald did it for him. "He twisted it or something, no thanks to you". Though a concerned look crossed Helga's face for a moment, it didn't stay long before she snapped back at him. "Me? Why is it my fault?!" "You're the one who made me play!" Arnold exclaimed angrily, waving Gerald away when he attempted to look at Arnold's ankle. He didn't want anyone to see. "I didn't make you do anything, Arnoldo! You chose to play!" "Only because you wouldn't have left me alone if I hadn't!" "You don't know that, what do you know, football-head!? You're probably not even hurt, it's just an excuse to be lazy and wuss out again". Before he knew what he was doing, Arnold had leapt up onto one foot and punched Helga in the jaw!! Time froze, Arnold stood poised with his fist drawn back to his chest, a look of complete shock etched on his face. What had he just done?Gerald sat dumbstruck on the bench, had Arnold actually just punched her? Not hit, but punched!! And standing in front of them was Helga, a look on her face that couldn't be described. She couldn't even react to what he'd just done to her. All her life, she'd never actually hit him physically, only with words. Never had she dreamed that he'd actually retaliate, and in this way. It was as if everyone in the park had frozen as well, and they'd all seen what just happened. Helga opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Her heart had just shattered into a million pieces. "..I....uh, I..." Arnold stuttered a moment, but he saw a shining in Helga's eyes, as if they were filling with water. Or tears. "I...I'm sorry". As he said it, he reached out his hand instinctively, but she backed away. "Don't touch me". She said in a low, almost raspy voice as she put a hand to her cheek as if to protect herself, and he pulled back. Helga turned and ran, and no one said a word, not even Harold, who stood almost in awe. "Man, Arnold". Was all Gerald could say after a moment and Arnold looked at him. Then he looked around the field at all the teenagers there that he knew, who were now looking at him, surprised. So he ran. Not very well, but he made it out of the park and down the street. He heard Gerald call behind him to wait, but he didn't. He just kept going. Surprisingly enough, Gerald did not follow him.
"Man, Arnold. You're just not havin' much luck today, are ya". Gerald said as the two of them grabbed their lunch trays and got in line. "I guess not". Arnold said casually. His stomach growled again, and he grinned. All morning he'd waited to get his hands on some tapioca, he hoped Gerald had heard right about it being served that day. He hastily made his choices of other foods and hurried along to the desserts. When he got there, though, there wasn't a single cup of tapioca to be seen. There was, however, a large empty area among the other desserts where Arnold figured the tapioca must have been. When Gerald caught up with him and saw that the tapioca was gone, he groaned. "Oh well". Arnold said, doing well at keeping his cool, as usual, as he chose a different dessert and headed to the end of the line to pay for his food. The lady behind the cash register sat with a bored look upon her face, blowing a bubble out her mouth with a piece of bubble gum she'd probably been chewing all morning. Arnold set his tray down and dug into his pocket, only to find it completely empty save one penny! "Oh, no..." He muttered, remembering what he'd done with his lunch money. "What's wrong?" Gerald asked behind him. "I forgot my lunch money, Gerald". Arnold said, ignoring the fact that it was sort of a lie, and Gerald dug into his own pocket. "Here, I got extra". He said, handing the money to Arnold, who thanked him and paid for his food. He took his tray and headed for an empty table. Gerald sat with him and they talked a while as they ate their lunch. The rest of the cafeteria buzzed loudly with other high school students talking, laughing, yelling; it was a lot noisier than the lunch room back at PS-118. Suddenly someone bumped into Arnold and sent their soda on his face and down into his t-shirt! Arnold jumped out of his seat and was not surprised to find Helga standing there, regaining control of her tray. "Oops, sorry football-head". She said sarcastically and continued on her way. Arnold gritted his teeth and sat back down. He didn't want to go clean up or he'd never get a chance to eat his lunch, which he owed Gerald money for. He could feel the drops of soda running down his neck and back, and he scowled as he ate his lunch in silence. Gerald said no thing, only looked over at him every once in a while. Poor Arnold, he thought. Every day it gets harder for the kid to hold onto his temper. Ever since they started high school Gerald had noticed a slight change in Arnold's behavior. It slowly became harder for him to just let things pass, or to look on the bright side like he used to do so well. Oh sure, he was still a kind, positive, pacifistic kid, but there were some days, like this one, where his anger just ate him up inside. Though Arnold didn't know it, his best friend could see right through his act.
Meanwhile at another table, Helga sat down hard onto the seat and put her head in her hands for a moment. Why did you do that, stupid, she thought, mentally kicking herself. You could have at least apologized to him. Why must you constantly torment him with each passing moment that you're in his presence? It may be the last time that you are, can't you just be nice? "He probably won't even notice when I'm gone". She muttered with defeat as she picked at her food with a fork. I miss phoebe. Phoebe had gone to a special school up state, and would be home in a couple weeks. Though Helga didn't show it, she was so excited that she couldn't wait to see her best friend again. The only thing she dreaded was telling her the news. And Arnold. Was she going to be able to tell Arnold? Or did she even need to. Would he even care? Helga sighed and continued to pick at her food.
After school a bunch of people gathered at Gerald field to play baseball, their favorite pastime. Arnold didn't really want to come with his ankle in so much pain, but Gerald convinced him to come anyway and he sat on the bench watching with a few other people. The game was tied with two outs for Gerald's team, and Helga was pitching. "Hey, football-head, you wussin' out or what!?" She shouted, and Arnold scowled. "I don't feel like playing today". He stated simply, and she spit in the dirt. "Right, you're just wussin' out as usual". "I am not". "Hey, lay off, Helga". Gerald said, and Helga glared at him. "Stay outta this, tall-hair boy". Gerald shrugged and said no more. "Hey, I don't care if Arnoldo decides to be a wimp, not my problem, we got this game in the bag anyway". And with that she prepared to pitch for Eugene, who was up next to bat. This meant that they were most likely going to loose. Even as a freshman in high school, Eugene could never manage to get ride of his curse for being a jinx. "Fine!" Arnold shouted angrily, limping off of the makeshift bleachers and grabbing a bat. "Can I bat in your place, Eugene? And you can bat after me". Eugene nodded, understanding completely. "Sure, Arnold. You can bat in my place anytime". Eugene stepped back and took a seat on the bench with the other players on Gerald's team. Arnold, ignoring the pain in his ankle, stepped up to the base and made ready to hit Helga's fast ball. "You don't have to do this, ya know". Gerald said. "I know". Arnold replied. "Well, well, well, look who came out to play". Helga taunted, winding her arm back and letting the ball fly. Arnold swung the bat, but the ball whizzed past and Gerald caught it. Arnold sucked in a deep breath, he should have been more careful with the way he twisted his leg around trying to swing. Helga noticed the pained expression on his face, but it only lasted a moment before a look of angered determination replaced it and he made ready to bat again. So she ignored the look of pain and prepared to pitch again. This time, when Arnold swung the bat there was a soft crack. The ball didn't go very far. Arnold dropped the bat and fell, grabbing his ankle. "Hey, you alright, man?" Gerald asked, and Arnold shook his head. Gerald came to his side and helped him up. "What happened?" He asked. "Nothing, I just need to sit". Arnold said painfully, and while a bunch of kids chased after the ball, the rest ran their bases and cheered for their victory. "Well, well, looks like ya came through, football-head". "Yeah, Helga, whatever you say". "Hey, what's wrong with your leg?" When Arnold didn't answer, Gerald did it for him. "He twisted it or something, no thanks to you". Though a concerned look crossed Helga's face for a moment, it didn't stay long before she snapped back at him. "Me? Why is it my fault?!" "You're the one who made me play!" Arnold exclaimed angrily, waving Gerald away when he attempted to look at Arnold's ankle. He didn't want anyone to see. "I didn't make you do anything, Arnoldo! You chose to play!" "Only because you wouldn't have left me alone if I hadn't!" "You don't know that, what do you know, football-head!? You're probably not even hurt, it's just an excuse to be lazy and wuss out again". Before he knew what he was doing, Arnold had leapt up onto one foot and punched Helga in the jaw!! Time froze, Arnold stood poised with his fist drawn back to his chest, a look of complete shock etched on his face. What had he just done?Gerald sat dumbstruck on the bench, had Arnold actually just punched her? Not hit, but punched!! And standing in front of them was Helga, a look on her face that couldn't be described. She couldn't even react to what he'd just done to her. All her life, she'd never actually hit him physically, only with words. Never had she dreamed that he'd actually retaliate, and in this way. It was as if everyone in the park had frozen as well, and they'd all seen what just happened. Helga opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Her heart had just shattered into a million pieces. "..I....uh, I..." Arnold stuttered a moment, but he saw a shining in Helga's eyes, as if they were filling with water. Or tears. "I...I'm sorry". As he said it, he reached out his hand instinctively, but she backed away. "Don't touch me". She said in a low, almost raspy voice as she put a hand to her cheek as if to protect herself, and he pulled back. Helga turned and ran, and no one said a word, not even Harold, who stood almost in awe. "Man, Arnold". Was all Gerald could say after a moment and Arnold looked at him. Then he looked around the field at all the teenagers there that he knew, who were now looking at him, surprised. So he ran. Not very well, but he made it out of the park and down the street. He heard Gerald call behind him to wait, but he didn't. He just kept going. Surprisingly enough, Gerald did not follow him.