I DO NOT OWN HEY ARNOLD!!! DON'T SUE ME!!! (I don't have any money anyway so you wouldn't get much out of it if you did)

Return To Innocence

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"And so ends another day at Hillwood High," says Gerald with an exasperated sigh. The two of us exit through the main building out to the front of the school, just as we always do after school. He talks to me about how his day was and, as sadistic as this may sound, I'm not always interested in the day to day experiences of my long time best friend. But, he talks on anyway, oblivious to my feelings on the subject, as I'd never dream of telling him.

"Guess you ought to be getting together with Roxanne, now, right? I mean, she said you two were going to the mall and all." I say, partially not even aware that I'd spoken. I'm too interested in what's going on around me. I see the masses of high school kids talking and laughing amongst themselves as if I'm watching it all in slow motion. People running around like they're playing a spirited game of tag.

For a moment I forget where I am. Suddenly, in my mind, I'm back on the playground at P.S. 118.

"You sure you don't want to come, man?" Gerald asks, breaking me from my pleasant "relived" childhood. He looks questionably at me, wondering why I look so distant.

"Definitely." I nod. I'm not, nor ever will be, in the mood to spend the evening with someone such as Roxanne. Suddenly, I realize something. Why? For what reason would I dislike her? I don't know her. I never gave her a chance, because as you know, I hated her from the second I saw her.

I made a judgment…

…a judgment that stuck with me.

No matter what she had said; no matter how intelligent she may have been; I wouldn't have liked her. Simple as that.

"You don't like her, do you?" Gerald asks, laughingly.

"You're not disappointed?"

"No way, you got your own opinions, I can deal."

I smirk. At least it's out in the open.

"You know, it's weird, though. I mean, I'm not used to you forming bad opinions about people."

"Why is that?"

"Because… it's so unlike you. Mr. 'lets give everyone a fair chance'. It seems wrong, kinda."

I frown. Am I offended? Am I angry that he thinks I'm not capable of disliking someone? …that I'm not capable of hate?

Should I be?

Is it right?

"I see." I look away from him.

"Oh, come on, man! You know I don't mean that the way it sounds." he pats me on the back, and laughs at his own comment.

"Yeah…" I say, lightening up a little. He, after all, didn't mean to 'insult' me. He wouldn't do that.

"Catch ya' later!" he says as he sees Roxanne off the distance, waving at him. Maybe I'm jealous. A-ha! That's it! I'm jealous. That would be the only way to explain my unjustifiable hatred of Roxanne.

Jealousy can't be good, though, right?

A better question… why would I be jealous?

"Oh, hi Arnold," I hear from behind me. It's an angelic sort of voice that I know only belongs to one person. Lila. "I'm ever so happy to see you." she smiles a beautiful, pearly white, smile. She bows her head slightly and looks up at me. She hasn't changed much since we were kids, I decide. She's still tall, and everything she wears has an innocent child-like look to it that I can't explain. It's as if everything she touches turns pure. She's the type of woman I envision marrying one day. The type of girl that embodies every standard of feminine beauty. Ah, beautiful.

"Really? Why would you want to see me?" I turn around and take a few steps back to her. She blushes slightly, which only reaffirms my belief that she and innocence go hand-in-hand. I like that.

"No reason. How was your day? I hope it was just ever so wonderful, like mine." she walks to me and the two of us turn to walk forward.

"It was ok. I spoke to Charlie."

"He's not that sad boy that's always alone, is he?"

"How'd you know?"

"Oh, Arnold, everyone knows about Charlie Reiker. He creeps me out, personally. How he's always looking down. Like he doesn't want to look you in the eye, you know?"

"Reiker? As in the History teacher?"

"I'm not sure, but it is quite the coincidence," she giggles, which sends my heart a-flutter. Just as Roxanne had done earlier today, she twirls a piece of her brunette hair around her index finger. This doesn't annoy me, though, which both surprises me and troubles me at the same time. Why did Roxanne's doing the same thing prompt me to hold it against her in a way, and Lila's doing it make my heart 'melt'?

"Yeah, it sure is. Does anyone know anything about him?" she furrows her brow in thought and raise a hand to cup her chin.

"I'm ever so sure that no one's knows a thing about him, I'm sorry," she looks disappointed.

"It's ok, I-"

"Hey, hair boy!" ugh, and so from the beautiful ,angelic, voice of Lila, we go to the loud, overbearing, voice of Helga G. Pataki. I seem to resent her a little for interrupting my time with Lila.

"Yeah, Helga?" I ask with a sigh of annoyance. I turn to face her with an exasperated expression. She stands there, arms folded, just as if she were ready to beat the living daylights out of someone. It was an intimidation move, which I think maybe she is so used to that she doesn't realize the meaning behind it.

"I need to talk to you, pronto!" she orders. I frown.

"Why, haven't I already done you enough favors today?" I ask, quite boldly. I feel bad, that sounded a little rude, mean even. Ah, here's the 'confrontational' part in our 'relationship'. We can so easily get on one another's nerves… something that hasn't changed, it seems, since preschool.

"Apparently not. Come on, I gotta talk to you." she glares at me, trying to stare me down. I look at Lila, who I see, quite humorously, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Perhaps she's scared for her life, I muse, almost laughing out loud.

"M-maybe you should just go, Arnold, she looks pretty mad." Lila informs, taking a step away from me. Scared, perhaps, that if she stands too close to me she might get caught up in the 'cross fire'.

"No. Why should I be ordered around by HER?" I ask, turning to fully face my oppressor; my bully; my kill-joy. Lila whispers a small goodbye, then almost runs away from the situation. I never understood why Helga hated Lila the way she did. I thought once that maybe she resented Lila for resembling her sister, Olga, a little too much. The way she always called Lila 'little miss perfect'; the way she hated her sister for being so 'perfect'. It makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Then again, I could be wrong.

"Just shut up, and get over here!" she says, frustrated.

I sigh and walk the few steps to her. She stares at me as though I've done something terrible to her. "What?"

She disregards what I say and leads me over to a secluded place by the wall of the school. The scenery has changed, now. No longer can I see the groups of people talking and having a good time. Instead, all I can see are old, dried up, shrubs placed around the walls of the high school. They're ugly and brown yet no one seems to think they need to be taken down. Ugh, I cringe looking at the dusty, unclean, state of the wall. The wall that, although is now a beige color, used to be as pearly white as Lila's perfectly set teeth.

Maybe the bushes haven't been cleared away because now they seem to match the dirty walls.

That ugly dead-brown color…

…yuck…

"Look, you know that little chat with Charles Manson you had today at lunch?" she asks sarcastically, leaning up against the dingy wall.

"You mean, Charlie? Yeah, what about it?"

"What about it?! You obviously had a little 'bonding experience' with the little weirdo, you tell me!" she shouts, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Um, what?" I raise an eyebrow.

"He says he wants YOU to work on the project with us! Can you believe that!? YOU of all people! What did you say to the guy?!" she glares at me once again. She probably expects me to tell her that I had befriended the guy; that we're now the best of friends or something; that's not true, though, not in the least.

"Nothing!" I say defensively, "I didn't say much of anything to him! I think I asked him if he was new here, and that's it! He never even really answered me, anyway! He told me to leave him alone… why would he want me to work on the project with you guys?"

"Still think he isn't crazy?" she asks with a mocking tone in her voice.

"What did he say?" I ask, ignoring her last statement. She folds her arms and shifts her weight from leg to leg, an obvious physical sign of tiredness, restlessness, and annoyance. I don't get it… why is she so annoyed with this?

"All he said was that he wasn't going to do the project unless YOU join us. This is my grade, Arnoldo! You have to do this, I can't afford to get a zero! He's such a psycho… he probably has a crush on you or something," she scoffs, looking the other way.

"Just because he's gay doesn't make him a psycho," I defend, crossing my arms.

"I don't mean it THAT way… I think he's a psycho anyway! I just think that the only reason he'd want you there is because he likes you. Why else would you request something like that from talking to a person for 5 seconds?" she eyes me, silently begging for me to contradict her again.

"Uh, huh." I look at her disbelievingly and tap my foot, "Ok, WHY is this so annoying to you?" I already know the answer, but for some reason I insist on torturing myself with the question.

"Psft! Come on! Like I wanna work with YOU!" she says, cocking her head towards me.

Heh, that's just what I thought she'd say…

"Yeah, yeah… when am I supposed to do this project with you?" I ask, looking annoyed. She frowns and kneels down to the ground. She flips her backpack in front of her and unzips it, looking unsuccessfully for something.

"There it is!" she exclaims, taking out a wrinkled, ripped, piece of paper. She looks it over and then hands it to me. "Here's what the project is on, Charlie wrote down his address AND when you're supposed to be there. Everything's pretty much covered except for the obvious.

"The obvious?" I look over the piece of paper at her.

"Yeah, you can't join the project just like that. You have to get permission from the teacher, doi." she rolls her eyes, closing up her backpack. "Yeah, and like I said, it's at Charlie's house so I'm kinda glad you're going."

"Really?" I perk a brow.

"Yeah. Who actually would want to go alone to that guy's house?" she shudders. I roll my eyes.

I should have expected that.

"When do you have some free time?" she asks, standing up again. The heaviness of her backpack almost makes her topple over, and I can't help but find amusement from that. She finally regains her balance and folds her arms once again.

"Why?"

"Ugh, so we can go get permission from the teacher, obviously, football head." she rolls her eyes again.

"Can't you do that alone?" I question, folding up the piece of paper she gave me and sticking it in my pocket.

"NO. You have to come with us so she can see that you're really serious about doing the project."

"Well, I'm kind of being forced into it, aren't I?" I say, a bit of a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"Well, duh! But we don't want her thinking that, right? Right?" she glares at me. I nod and she sighs as though a weight as just been lifted from her shoulders.

"Good. Thanks for listening, football face, I appreciate it." she begins to walk away and puts her hands in her pockets once again.

"No problem." I sigh, reaching into my own pocket and feeling the piece of paper she gave me. I don't want this, I really don't. But I can't say no, now, right?

Right?

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Here's chapter 4... Once again, I hope you guys are enjoying the story as much as I enjoy writing it. It's great to know there are other people out there who enjoy psychology as much as me ;)