Author's Note: At this part of the story, the point of view starts flipping around. I've always wondered what people like Rhonda or Sid, for instance, though of Arnold and Helga and their relationship with each other. So, I tried to answer my own questions in the story. Some of my chapters are still in third person, but many come from the perspectives of other characters- this one is from Rhonda's perspective. In doing this, I tried to portray who I thought the characters would be when no one's watching, while still keeping them in character. So, we'll see. Once again, I apologize for the length of the chapters, but with the many perspectives, I don't want to put them together.
Disclaimer- Nope, I still don't own it.
Part 3: Unanswered Questions
From the perspective of Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd
Poor Arnold. He sure does have to put up with a lot, and I certainly hope that the tapioca comes out of his sweater without it having to be dry-cleaned. Can you imagine having to walk around all day long with a huge stain on your shirt? I was positively die of embarrassment. But then again, I am Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, and anything below perfect is unacceptable. I guess some days you could say I resent that, but never enough to change my mind on the subject.
The way Helga treats Arnold is appalling, and I can't figure out why she would be so cruel to the nicest boy in the whole grade. But then again, she is Helga Pataki. The poor boy was just trying to make her feel better about whatever it was that made her unhappy, and she throws pudding all over him. He didn't even get mad at her, either. He didn't scowl or yell or anything- he just left the room. She left not long after, but I'm not sure where she went, and I doubt it was to apologize. Helga is sitting at her desk now, as the rest of us walk into class. She looks even angrier than she did before. She'd better be careful, scowling like that could cause some major wrinkles.
Every desk in the classroom is occupied except for Arnold's. Everyone is watching the doorway, waiting for him to come in- we're dying to see what he'll do. Arnold walks in the classroom about ten seconds before the bell rings. His shirt is wet where he tried to scrub off the tapioca. He walks past Helga's desk, and glances at her. You'd think after all that he'd be angry, but no- I don't know what exactly he is trying to communicate to Helga with that look, but maybe he's trying to figure out why she does the things she does. That boy will never give up, I tell you. Helga refuses to look at him, staring ahead so hard that she just might burn a hole in the wall.
I should have known from the beginning that my origami marriage predictor was wrong, especially after it matched up those two. That would be dysfunctional with a capital D, let me tell you. They can't stand each other. Well, I'm not exactly sure about that- you can usually tell when people don't like each other, you know? But with Arnold and Helga, you never really get the sense that they hate each other, even with all the cruel nicknames and spitballs. Spitballs. Another reason I feel bad for poor Arnold. Can you imagine walking around with those in your hair? It's just so gross. In fact, Helga's pulling out that disgusting spitball shooter now. I always hate it when she does this. I shift in my seat and my one-of-a-kind Caprini platform boots rub together. I cringe, hoping I haven't scraped the boots, because then they will absolutely have to go. I don't know how people like Helga survive on only one pair of shoes. She doesn't seem to mind- how can you not want a closet full of shoes? I will never understand anyone, but especially Helga. She hasn't shot a single spitball at Arnold yet, but is just fiddling around with the hollowed-out pen. No one is paying attention to Mr. Simmons, and most of us are watching Helga to see what she does. She hasn't even apologized to Arnold yet- you'd think she'd at least do that. Suddenly, she realizes we are all watching her and expertly shoots a spitball at Arnold. Gross. It hits his back and drops to the floor. He automatically looks back, glares at Helga, and mouths stop it. She pretends not to know what's going on. Helga was a pretty good Juliet, but other than that, she can't act. Then Arnold turns around again and Helga gets this almost dreamy look on her face. Where on earth did that come from?
As I said, I will never understand anyone, but especially Arnold and Helga. Don't tell anyone, but I am completely clueless when it comes to those two.