AIN'T THAT A KICK IN THE HEAD?





Part 6:







"Okay then," said Arnold. He was a little surprised, although relieved, to hear consent. He had half-expected her to gnaw off his arm at the sheer audacity of the offer. She rose from her chair, and the two of them walked out to join the other couples. Arnold was glad to find that he could remember more of the steps than he had expected. Helga obviously recollected some too--soon she was basically leading him around the floor, and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying every minute.

A few people stopped to watch the blond man and woman, fairly impressed at their attempts as they danced on--apparently oblivious to anything but each other. (If you have ever seen a crowd of people dancing, you've noticed that most of them aren't very creative about it. So when somebody is actually gutsy enough to do something other than rock back and forth in one spot, no matter how crummy they are, it's usually quite entertaining. Try it sometime. It's fun, and everybody else will be impressed.) He spun her out to one side, and as he pulled her back towards him, he winked and said in a low voice;



"I don't suppose you've forgotten what happened the last time we tangoed?"

Helga smirked, twirling out again. "Fat chance!" she whispered. "You'd better not sic another turtle on me, pal.....or you'll be the one who gets bitten!"

"I had nothing to do with that!" There was that blunt, sarcastic sense of humor again. Good. In some strange way, he had almost missed that.



He spun her around a final time to the rhythm of the music, and dipped her backwards over one arm. He grinned--this was about the most entertaining thing he'd done all night--and raised her slowly up again.



Then blue eyes looked into green eyes.

Only a few inches apart.



...And both of them froze.



A brief, panicky thought raced across each mind:





What now?!





That was about the full extent of the 'moment'...whatever it was...because just then, somebody accidently jabbed an elbow into Arnold's rib...

"Whoops! Sorry, man."



...and the unexpected jolt made him lose his balance. He and Helga toppled to the floor with an ungraceful * THUD! * Arnold partly managed to catch himself on the way down, but found himself hovering over her...again, only a few inches away. For a split second, they flushed with embarrassment, then the two of them sat up and got to their feet apologising profoundly. Neither of them noticed Gerald and Phoebe nearby.







Man! That boy's got some hard ribs, thought Gerald, rubbing his sore elbow gingerly.

"Gerald, you did that just so he would make a move!" Phoebe whispered.

"Well, I didn't think he was going to fall over!"







"I'm.....really sorry...I'm such a klutz."

"S'alright...I'm kind of clumsy too..."

"Are you okay?...I'm sorry." Twice in one day--Yeesh. That had to be some kind of record.

"I'm fine...I guess," she said, wincing suddenly. "My shoulder hurts. I think I might have bruised it or scraped it or something."



As if he didn't feel bad enough. He hated when people got injured because of him. Even petty little accidents like this. "It's my fault. Sit down...can I get you something?...Punch?...I'm really sorry!"



"Arnold...shut up," she said gently. "It isn't your fault, and you don't have to be such a worrywart. I'm pretty tough, y'know." She shook her head. "But thanks...for caring," she added. "It's too dark in here to tell, so I'll go check my arm in the bathroom. Promise me you won't have a nervous breakdown over this?"



"Sure, I promise."





Helga left, and Arnold walked over to the refreshment table to get a drink. Several feet away, Gerald and Phoebe exchanged a knowing glance...then separated to go have a few words with their friends.