Flawed

By Miss Matched

So

Callous Laden

that I can't feel a thing at all...

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Chapter 5

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Tiny black leather shoes made soft pattering noises on the tiled bathroom floor as Phoebe walked up to a stall. No legs could be seen from underneath, but Phoebe knew better.


"Helga? I know you're in there." She said meekly.


"No Helga in here, just Telly the toilet." Helga interjected sarcastically.


Beginning to get impatient, Phoebe tapped one foot on the green tiled floor. "Helga, it's recess time. Early recess time. We rarely get this... I've calculated it out to be a one in five thousand chance that it will ever happen again. You've simply got to go outside!"


Helga sighed, "No. I'm in here for a reason, you know."


Phoebe snickered slightly, "But Helga, I think you've been in there too long to just be, um, doing you duty." The sound of what could only be Helga's head hitting against the stall door was heard. Afraid of Helga actually hurting herself, she quickly spoke again. "It's really not a big deal that yours and Arnold's poems were read in front of class." Some more banging noises were heard from the stall, then silence. Phoebe watched as Helga slipped her legs down to where they could be seen. Phoebe sighed with relief, hoping that Helga would agree to leave the restroom. But just then, Helga spun around in the stall so her heels faced the outside. The sound of the toilet flushing rang out.


"I hope she's not giving herself a swirly!" Phoebe thought to herself, "Though highly improbable..." Fearing the worst, she got on her hands and knees and proceeded to climb under the stall door.


"Stupid, stinking poetry." Helga grumbled, wadding up a piece of paper and chucking it into the toilet. She pushed down on the lever, and the toilet flushed once more. Phoebe gasped, this was worse than a dunk in the porcelain, this was the destruction of art! She grabbed Helga's arm as she was about to throw another page in. Helga spun around, surprised.

"How did you get in here?"


"I crawled underneath." Phoebe stated briefly, "Why are you flushing your poems down the latrine?"


Helga growled, "Not that it's any of your business, but no one was supposed to know that those were my and Arnold's poems. I'm just getting rid of the other drafts."


"Helga, I'm your best friend! That's how I was able to tell that one of the poems was yours. Due to the fact that you are Arnold's partner, it was easy to assume that the other poem was his. I'm sure no one else noticed."


"Are you sure?" Helga asked, raising half a unibrow, "Because I'd hate to have to break in a new best friend if you're wrong."


"I'm relatively positive."


Calming down, Helga folded the rest of the papers in her hand and stuffed them in her pocket. "Come on, Phoebes. It's recess time." She opened up the stall door and walked out.


"Coming!" Phoebe sang after her.


Meanwhile, the rest of the class was already outside enjoying the mild weather. Though the sun shone brightly across the playground, the heat felt friendly instead of overbearing. Only a few minutes remained before regular recess time when the other children came out, so the fourth graders were quickly trying to monopolize as much of the playground as humanly possible. Sid, Stinky and Harold each sat down on a four square court, Rhonda and Robert snagged the swings, Brainy held onto the tether ball pole, and Curly hung from the jungle gym while plotting to free Michael Jackson's pet monkey.


"Come on Arnold," Gerald said as he walked up behind his best friend, "There's still a few good balls we can save."


Arnold sighed, "I don't really feel like playing right now, Gerald."


"Mmm mmm MMMM." Replied Gerald, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, "This isn't over the whole poem thing, is it?"


"Gerald!" Arnold exclaimed, astonished, "How did you..."


"I'm your best friend. We're like this." He crossed his fingers for effect. "I know these things. And let me tell you, you'd better watch yourself. As soon as Helga comes out here, you're gonna be in for the beating of your life! I hear Sid and Harold are gonna back you up, though. I think Stinky still has it in for Helga, but I'm sure we can--"


Arnold interrupted, "No, she's not going to beat me up, Gerald. That's crazy talk."


"Is it crazy talk to say that she's made fun of you more than anyone else in this class combined?"


"Well... no..."


"And that she constantly picks on you and torments you?"


"Um..."


"And that she hates your guts and wishes you were dead?"


Arnold turned away, "Now that one's crazy talk." He mumbled under his breath. Gerald heard this, and shook his head once more.

"What's up with you, man? Ever since we saved the neighborhood I feel like something's different, something big. It's like... it's like we're not even best friends any more." He began to walk away, "But I trust your judgment, Arnold, you're a bold kid... but like I said, just watch yourself. You're too good for your own good sometimes."


Arnold sighed as his best friend left. No one understood Helga... not even him. But there was truth to Gerald's words, something was different now, though he couldn't place his finger on it. But there was a sneaking suspicion in the back of his mind that whatever it was, it had been changing for a long time.


The rest of the children restlessly zipped out of their classrooms as soon as the recess bell rang. The culmination of childhood joys, this was the best time of their days. The sunlight hit their faces as they ran outside, illuminating...


utter chaos.


"Get off the jungle gym you wussy fourth grader!" That was Wolfgang, Arnold decided, while not looking.

"Never! Michael Jackson's pets deserve freedom!" And that was Curly, no doubt.


"What? Just get off the monkey bars before pound you into the little fourth grade mush you are."

"You and your fifth grade stooges get the jungle gym every day and don't share. Criminy, will one day really kill you? Let the little weirdo have some fun." Arnold turned around at this. Helga was standing up for Curly. While a part of him wanted to be surprised at this, he wasn't.


"Well well, it's the ugly girl with the one eyebrow. The girls playing with their dolls are over on that side of the playground." He pointed, taunting.


Helga growled, and held up her fist. Knowing that he'd have to act fact, Arnold ran over to the nearest adult, Mr. Buttsavage. "Excuse me, but one of your students is about to start a fight."


"Oh my!" Mr. Buttsavage replied, his eyebrows raised. "I'd better go over there! WOLFGANG!" He shouted running over to the hulking fifth grader. Arnold smirked slightly, evidently he was used to this sort of behavior from his students. He looked back over at the scene. The teacher had grabbed Wolfgang by the wrist and dragged him off, leaving an especially peeved Helga and insane Curly in their wake.


"Are you two okay?" Arnold asked, double checking on the well-being of his peers.

Helga snorted, "I was doing just fine on my own, football head. I didn't need you to bring any chump over."


"But I thought you were---"


"In trouble?" Helga finished for him. "Heh, right. I know Wolfgang's style pretty well. Without anyone watching him or chiding him on, he backs down pretty easily. Now everyone's gonna think I'm a pansy, that I can't fight my own fights."


Arnold sighed, "You don't think I can do anything right when it comes to you, do you?"


Helga paused, then changed the subject, "I wonder what the Fruitcup is going to assign us for tonight."


"Yeah, whatever it is it's bound to be interesting."


"Right."


Inside, Mr. Simmons and Dr. Bliss were still talking about the projects. About one group in particular, actually.


"I just don't think we should force them together, Dr. Bliss." Mr. Simmons began.


"Sylvia, please if you would. You don't need to be formal with me, Robert."


He scratched his head nervously, "Right... Sylvia. It's just that, well, they're only nine. I feel that if they're really going to be friends, it's their own decision. It's all the more 'special' when they realize that themselves. Isn't it?"


"Not when it's ruining one person's life. Helga has Phoebe, but she needs someone a bit more... stable to be with. Helga and Phoebe's friendship is more about dominance, about brains versus brawns, they end up clashing when they step out of their cliqued boxes that they prepared for themselves."


"Well, why Arnold? Why not someone else?"


"Robert, you've read Helga's poems. You're not blind. She needs to know that he at least cares back. Being on at least friendly terms with him would take away her need to be so aggressive. Besides, though I've never done an evaluation on Arnold, I have a hunch that he needs her."


Robert Simmons sighed, "I guess I do see your point, Doctor, but I wish that it wouldn't take so much to get them to see the light. It looks like it's really hurting Helga."


"When a bone breaks and heals wrong, it needs to be broken again and given the chance to heal right. Helga's chosen some wrong tactics to deal with her feelings, and once she's broken she'll be given a chance to correct herself."


Just then the bell rang, letting the students back inside from recess. Knowing it would take a while for the reluctant students to return to class, Mr. Simmons turned back to Dr. Bliss.


"Well, it's your turn to assign the next part of the project..."


"Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be to your approval."


"Right, right." Mr. Simmons laughed, then noted "I don't usually give the students this much homework."


As the students trickled back in, she smiled, "I have a hunch that they're enjoying it far more than you expect."


As Helga walked inside, she sighed. She hated herself for the way she had been treating Arnold. It was like the closer he got, the farther she pushed away. Had she become that unfeeling? She looked down, not wanting to know the answer.


(AN: A short, blink and you miss it tribute to my man Chief was included in this chapter. Yeah, really short. Check out his stories. I'll try and be more... um, on time with the chapters from now on. And yeah, I did re-upload this chapter. Huge continuity error. -_-() )


Until Next Time,


Miss Matched)