~AIN'T THAT A KICK IN THE HEAD?~







Part 3:











A light breeze blew around the side of the community center where Gerald and Arnold stood, sending dried leaves across the distant parking lot and ruffling the blond man's hair over his face.



I hope this won't be too awkward. I haven't seen most of these guys in nearly ten years, he thought, trying to slick it back. His hair was shorter than it used to be, but it still stuck out every which way no matter what he did. It's a lost cause he told himself for the third time, giving up and shoving his hands in his pockets.



"Well, at least I still look good in a suit," Gerald said off-handedly, flicking a piece of lint from his sleeve. He checked his watch. "Almost six o' clock. They oughta be here soon."



Arnold caught the sound of heels click-clicking against the concrete behind them. He glanced around just long enough to recognize the two figures headed their way, then motioned to Gerald. "Yep. Here they come now." They turned to face the approaching women.

"Hey there, lovely ladies!" Gerald called, adding that odd little 'purr' he used sometimes as a friendly compliment.



Typical of him. Always the smooth-talker, Arnold might have mused.



Except for the fact that he wasn't listening.



"...don't you agree, Arnold?...Arnold?......Hey-Arnold!"



His attention had been drawn by something entirely different.



Gerald followed his friend's gaze, and immediately caught on. "I knew it. Every stinkin' time," he groaned dramatically, shaking his head. "Well--you're a big boy now; you can take care of yourself, I guess." He wandered away to speak with Phoebe.





He knew he was probably staring, but he couldn't seem to help it. Oh, he supposed he had noticed something earlier, in those first few minutes, but he hadn't really thought about it much then. Maybe it had to do with the fact that she wasn't sprawled on a dirty sidewalk anymore, mentally clobbering the doofus who had knocked her down. Time could do a lot more to a person than just make them older, and he'd never seen her quite like this. Perhaps that was it. Shock. But not a bad kind of shock.



"...Hi, Arnold. You clean up well..." she began casually. She stopped, puzzled. "...Um, Arnold? What are you staring at? Did I sprout another head or do you always greet people this way?"



Arnold blinked, slightly embarrassed and feeling uncharacteristically shallow. "Sorry. It's just..." he fumbled momentarily, unsure of what he would say next. "...I don't think I've ever seen you wear...red...before."

"Oh, is that all?" Helga raised her eyebrow suspiciously. "What's your point?"

"I dunno. Nothing. I just thought you looked very--pretty.....Beautiful, actually."



She hadn't expected that. Surprise crossed her face, mixed with disbelief. (Where did that come from? she wondered.) He was obviously quite sincere about it, though. She smiled. "W--well, thanks!"



He couldn't remember having seen that very often, either. She did have a nice smile--when it wasn't full of malicious intent, anyhow.



"Yeah, well..." He found himself scratching the back of his neck with one hand, as he often did when he was nervous. (What on earth would I have to feel nervous about?) Then he noticed that Gerald and Phoebe were walking ahead through the double doors. Enough stalling--they really ought not to stand out in the night air much longer.

"You want to go on in?"

"You want to be a gentleman and offer me your arm?" she answered.

Arnold grinned sheepishly, obeying, and she looped her arm through his. They pushed the doors aside, and he led her toward the main room of the community center.





Maybe this evening won't be so bad after all.











***********************************

A/N: Well, that may be it for a while. With the holidays and everything coming up, who knows when I'll be able to seize control of the computer again? Anyway, please keep reading and reviewing if you get the chance. It's nice to know somebody cares. :)