A/N: Sorry it has been so long since an update. I took a bit of a break and then this chapter turned out to be longer than I thought it would be. . .anyways, here is chapter six.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! because if I did I would not be writing this. . .
Where to Begin
Chapter 6 – Follow the Bouncing Ball
Helga kept shifting her weight back and forth from one foot to the other, her head and shoulders following the movement. It amazed her that although she had been on varsity as a freshman and had been a starter ever since the middle of the previous season she was still nervous before every game.
Lincoln High School was an old school, built in 1936, and though it had been renovated twenty-seven years ago, the gym still looked run down. Large, creaky wooden bleachers lined the two long walls downstairs and all four walls upstairs. Lincoln was lucky they were not a powerhouse team because here would not be enough room for all the fans in the small gym, which had remained the same size as the school enrollment increased by 1000. Still, even with a 1-12 record, the gym was filled with enough wild fans to give Helga the willies.
She began practicing lay-ups with her team during warm-ups. She started at the top of the key, dribbled hard twice and mentally cursed herself as she missed because she throw the ball up too hard. Helga continued from both sides of the basket, each time with more success than her first attempt. She moved to the outer court after working on her free throws during the open shoot about three minutes before the game started. Helga was working on her three point shots when she spotted Arnold, Gerald, and Phoebe walking towards the visiting students section. Helga waved slightly as Phoebe flailed her arms wildly to try to get Helga's attention (it was amazing how this shy and quiet girl acted during basketball games, yelling at the referees and heckling the opposing team. Gerald even had trouble controlling her, and she was crazier at his games). Arnold smiled at her, and Gerald merely nodded. Helga grinned. It was nice to have her friends cheering her on, especially at an away game.
"Hey, Helga! Good Luck!" Helga turned to see who was calling for her, and she nearly fainted (again) when she saw Jake Richardson and his million dollar smile routing for her. She gave him a small half-smile; after all she was supposed to be preparing for a ballgame, not trying to improve her love life.
The buzzer sounded, and her coach went into his usual speech. After the starting line-ups were announced, Helga went onto the court and set up for the opening tip-off. West Hillwood's center, Dana Sonners, tipped the ball to Helga, who passed it to the point guard, who passed it back to Helga, and she opened the game with a long trey from the wing.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Arnold ate another M & M and watched with little interest as Gerald tried to see how many times in a row he could catch popcorn in his mouth. Phoebe was tossing them to him, and Arnold suddenly felt like throwing up. So, naturally, he ate more chocolate.
West Hillwood was winning by thirty-one with a little more than two minutes left in the third quarter. The Fighting Irish had opened the game on a 14-0 run, half of the points scored by Helga. In reality, West Hillwood had the game won by the first quarter, and it was just pathetic to watch. The team's third string, mostly junior varsity players who had dressed for the game, was still killing Lincoln starters.
Arnold sighed as Gerald and Phoebe got into one of those cutesy couple fights about whose fault it was the streak had ended (they had made it to thirty-two). "I'm going to the bathroom," he said but highly doubted they heard him. Arnold somehow managed to get to the isle, silently cursing Gerald for insisting that they sit in the center of the bleachers. Normally he would not have cared, but because of Lincoln's small gym they were packed in like sardines.
Arnold splashed ice cold water on his face in an attempt to wake up from his boredom and because he was hot from the crowded gym. If it did not mean so much to Helga, he probably would have went to a movie or to Rhonda's party where he was planning to go to after the game. He left the restroom trying to find something to occupy his time; he did not want to watch that horrible excuse of a game anymore. However, about two seconds later he changed his mind and would have paid good money to go back to the gym. He had run into West Hillwood's self-proclaimed goddess and queen of the junior class.
Lila was trying way too hard to be noticed in her navy cheerleading outfit and the form-fitting skirt which she wore shorter than the rest of the squad. A heavy amount of glittery gold eye shadow weighed down her eyelids, and she her mascara had run slightly because of perspiration. Her hair was styled in French braids, complete with gold glitter dusted on the auburn stands, and the navy bows on the ends reminded him of the old Lila he used to like. She linked her left arm with his left and pulled him close to her. "Oh, Arnold, I'm ever so happy I ran into you. I haven't talk to you in so long," she said as they walked.
"Uh, Lila, aren't you supposed to be cheering?"
"Oh, Arnold, it's a girls' game. They don't want us here, we don't want to be here, and no one cares."
Apparently Lila had forgotten that half of the people in the full gym were West Hillwood fans, the team was undefeated, and they had a good chance to win the state tournament. However, she had gotten the first part right. The girls did not want the cheerleaders there, and the cheerleaders thought it was far too much work to have to cheer at both boys' and girls' games. "Lila, it's nice that you wanted to talk to me, but I really should go back to my seat. Gerald and Phoebe might be wondering if I fell in the sink." This was not a complete lie; they might be wondering what happened to him, but he highly doubted it.
"But Arnold, I just wanted to talk to you. I never see you. I miss being such close friends with you and spending time with you."
Arnold eyed her. Just where was this coming from? Lila most of the time does not give me the time of day, he thought. "That's nice, Lila, but I think—"
"So what do you think of the pageant so far?" She interrupted. "It's amazing how quickly things are going. And I hardly see you there! You know, maybe we should go for coffee after practice sometime."
"That's nice, Lila, but I am usually busy." Arnold tried desperately to pull away, but she only tightened her grip. "But Arnold, I think we should really spend more time together," she whined. I can't take this anymore! "Look, Lila, I should really sit down. Gerald and Phoebe—"
"I'm sure they'll manage ever so well without you. On the other hand, I might not." She batted her eyes and pouted. He was amazed that she could do two things at once. Arnold looked around and realized he had no clue where Lila was leading him. All he knew was that he needed to get away and fast. Lila was one of the very few people he could not stand to be alone with, Jake and Matt Gordon being the only others he could think of at the moment. "That's, that's nice, Lila, but I am sure your squad is needs you and I want to go watch the game." It was amazing how different the game looked from this angle. It was like an oasis in a desert of Lila, or something like that. Helga was the real thinker and poet of the group, not him. He was rambling in his mind, anything to try to forget how close she was getting. "Lila, please, how 'bout we go back to the gym?"
She pouted even more. "But Arnold, there is too many people there. I wanted to show you this secret, ever so private place I found," she said huskily, running her fingers down his arm, "If you understand what I mean." She licked her lips and pulled his hand up towards her mouth.
Oh God no! He pulled his hand away just before she slipped her mouth over his middle finger. "I really have to go," he said. Arnold turned and sprinted back to the gym, ignoring Lila as she called his name. He leaned up against the gym doors. What the hell was that about?
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Helga came out of the locker room about a half-hour after the game in good spirits. West Hillwood had won 74-36, and Helga had finished with nineteen points. "Enjoy the game?" she asked as she approached her friends.
"Could you even call that a game?" Gerald asked. "Man, I wish we'd win every game like that."
"Like that will ever happen," she started, but Jake interrupted her. He put an arm around the girl. "Helga, that hurts," he said, putting a hand to his heart in mock pain.
"I only speak the truth," she said, her cheeks flushing.
"And you're probably right. Anyways, a couple of us are going to Roman Holiday for pizza when we get back to Hillwood. You wanna come?"
Her face lit up. "Sure. I'll be kind of late, though. I have to get my car at the high school."
"Why don't you just come with me?"
"Thanks, but I usually go home with Gerald, Phoebe, and Arnold. I'll just meet you there."
"Okay, great." Jake suddenly seemed aware that the other three were standing with him and Helga. "You guys can come too, if you want."
Gerald's eyes narrowed. "That's okay. Helga, you ready to go?"
"Yeah. I'll see you in a bit, Jake," she said as they left.
"Bye, Helga."
Arnold smiled slightly. Helga was not a person to desert her friends. Then again, they were planning to go to Rhonda's and watch movies. He was frustrated with himself. Why do I think she can only hang out with us?
"Earth to Football Head!"
"Huh?"
Helga shook her head. "He's back. Let's go." They left the school and headed to the parking lot. Arnold saw a Lincoln High cheerleader and was reminded that he needed to talk to Gerald. "Uh, Phoebe? Can I sit up front with Gerald? I need to talk to him about something."
"Sure, Arnold. I want to talk about the pageant with Helga anyways."
"Great," Helga said as she got into the back seat. Arnold guessed that the excitement of getting to be the star in the performance had all ready worn off and Helga was back to loathing it. Gerald pulled out onto the street and headed back towards West Hillwood High. "What do you want to talk to me about that couldn't wait?"
"Can you turn the radio up?"
Gerald gave him a confused look and increased the volume and switched the stereo so that most of the sound went to the back seat. "What is it?"
"Lila came on to me at the game."
Gerald's jaw dropped. "What did you do?"
"I ran."
"Smart boy. What exactly did she say?"
"I don't really remember. I was planning my escape. But I got the message."
Gerald shook his head. "Don't tell Helga. She'll go nuts and try to jump the girl."
Arnold leaned his head up against the window. "I know, but why did she suddenly show interest in me?"
"I don't know, but if I was you, I would try to avoid Lila."
Arnold nodded, but he was still extremely confused. What was Lila up to?
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Arnold swallowed the disgusting coffee as he waited for Helga to pick him up. He even though he did not like coffee, he needed caffeine to wake him up. Unfortunately, he did not have time to make a fresh cup, so he drank what was left from Grandpa's pot, and which was lukewarm black coffee. Arnold looked at the cup for a moment, debating rather or not to finish it. The taste in his mouth got the best of him, and he ran inside, threw the mug in the sink, and shoved a piece of Big Red gum in his mouth, only to get a worse taste in his mouth. The horn honked as he started towards the bathroom to brush his teeth again, so he tried to suck it up and chew through the pain. He went outside to the car only to find Helga sipping on a steaming mocha latté. His eyes narrowed.
"Sorry I'm late. I had to stop at work to make sure that Mr. Higgins knew I was not working today."
Mr. Higgins was Helga's boss at The Oleander café where she worked, normally a couple days during the week and on weekends, but because of the pageant she had to cut down on her hours. Arnold's eyes moved from Helga's to her coffee. "Can I have a bit?"
She shot him a dirty look. "Get your own." Arnold glared back and slouched in his seat with his arms crossed. It was not a good start to the day.
Helga sensed his bad mood, and tried to make him feel better. "So, how was the movie last night?"
"Fine. How was pizza?"
"Great. They have the best pepperoni pizza ever. I was in heaven. I can't believe I had never gone there before."
"Helga, we went there about a month ago with Gerald."
"Really? Huh. I guess I forgot."
Arnold slid farther down into the seat. He was not going to enjoy this day. It was nearly nine, and he was supposed to work on the set and other various things until three. At least Helga was in a good mood. That was one less thing for him to worry about.
Helga pulled into the parking lot, and the two walked into the Omni Theater in silence. Josh and Callie were waiting for them in the lobby. They exchanged good mornings, then good byes and see you laters, and went their separate ways, the girls to the practice studios, the boys to the stage.
"Thank God you came. I'm not sure how much longer I could have lasted."
"What? You mean with Josh? What happened?" Helga asked as she and Callie walked.
"The boy kept talking about some party that we were at a couple of months ago. Like I am supposed to remember who was at every party I go do. I mean, does he think that I only went to that party and fell madly in love with him. I mean c'mon, I've gone to millions of parties since that one."
Helga laughed. "Why may I ask are you laughing?" Callie asked.
"Because that sounded like something Lila would say."
Callie stopped dead in her tracks. "I cannot believe you just said that," she said, and playfully shoved Helga into practice studio 1A, the main one. Five other girls and one extremely gay looking middle-aged man stared at them. "Uh, where is everyone?" Callie finally asked.
The man spoke in a slightly high, very snooty voice. "Mrs. Chadwick has already dismissed all the girls, who are practicing with their instructors. You would have known that had you been on time."
Helga looked at the clock. They were barely five minutes late. "Excuse us," she said as she and Callie left. "Crap," they said as they ran to studio 3A where they had practiced walking last Wednesday with Samson. The other three girls were sitting in folding chairs across from Dan, who was standing with his arms crossed and very pissed off expression on his face. He was not even trying to hide his annoyance. The two girls sat down in the remaining two chairs as Samson said, "We are so glad you could grace us with your presence, Miss Hayeworth and Miss Pataki. Now then, today we will be practicing your entrances again and your talents, but for now we will be working on the proper way to respond during an interview. Now, you need to be polite, soft-spoken, and well spoken. Do not us any of that atrocious slang that clouds your everyday speech like LA smog. Try to be direct and to the point. You will get more points if you appear to be able to think well on your feet. Look directly at the judges and—". Helga was already starting to lose concentration. The clock read 9:10. She sighed dejectedly. Only five hours and fifty minutes, she thought. Only five hours and fifty minutes. Only five hours and forty-nine minutes. . .
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Arnold listened carefully to Kyle, the lead crew chief at the Omni. He and his crew had helped build nearly all of the sets that had been used for the Miss Hillwood Pageant for the last five years. He liked their ideas, and said that though it was going to be a lot of work, it they would be able to do it. He had brought a lot of lumber so they could start building the steps, and he had also brought many podiums that would be used for the jazz band members that were going to play at the pageant to rest their sheet music on. The podiums needed to be sanded, primed, and painted. Arnold had half of the group working on the steps and the rest, including himself and Josh, working on the podiums.
"So, what were you and Callie talking about when Helga and I walked in?" Arnold asked after he was done with the sander and could actually talk to Josh.
"She could not remember me at first, but after a bit she said she did. She remembered me, Arnold!"
Arnold just shook his head. He had a feeling that Callie did not really remember him, and maybe had never seen him before Thursday, and had only said so because she wanted to be polite and try not to hurt the poor guy's feelings. She had looked awfully relieved when he and Helga entered the theater, and she did not have to be alone with Josh anymore. Arnold did not understand. He supposed Josh was attractive, he was about two inches taller then Arnold with light brown hair and hazel eyes, but he guessed that the boy acted slightly desperate around Callie, and no girl wants to date a desperate guy. He laughed hollowly. Lila sure had not. He looked over at the other boy, who was still going on and on about the girl who probably thought he was pathetic. Arnold was again reminded of Lila. As Stinky would say, it was a sad, sad state of affairs.
After an hour, Arnold had just finished one coat of primer on the same podium. The others working on the podiums were just as far, and progress on the stairs was not going well. Kyle had left to go buy lights and electrical equipment to put on the fronts of the steps, leaving his assistances to work with the feuding teenagers, who after a promising meeting on Thursday were back to hating each other. He started sanding another podium, trying to block out the fighting, and the others followed in suit, but somehow their yelling was still able to be heard over eight sanders. What have I gotten myself into? Arnold wondered.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
After nearly two hours of practicing how to walk and talk properly, Helga thought she had finally had a chance to relax as Samson told them they could go out in the hall or stay in the room to practice their talent routines. Helga and Callie started towards the hall to "practice", with all intentions of talking, but Samson called her back as she reached the door. "Miss Pataki, would you please join me at the piano?"
The piano was in an office that was joined to the studio. Helga walked in and coldly asked, "What I am going to do now?"
"Sing," he said, placing some music sheets on the piano.
"Sing what?"
He glared at her as he shoved papers into her hands. "'All that Jazz.' You got the main singing part, did you not?"
"Yes, but—"
"Well, I figured that I should take it upon myself to make sure you don't completely screw up."
"'Screw up?' What a fine choice of words." The man preaches for an hour about how we should never use slang, and what does he say? Criminey. "And why are you making this your responsibility?"
He did not answer but began to play the opening notes to the song. She did not sing, so he repeated the opening. After going through this process four times, he slammed his hands on the piano. "Miss Pataki! Would you stop acting like a child and practice! I will not let you embarrass me in front of everyone!"
"Embarrass you! I thought I was the one in the damn pageant! Would you get over yourself for once? No one will even know you had anything to do with my progress and performance, and even if they do, how many will care?"
He stared fiercely at her. "Fine. You are on your own. I am going to help the other contestants who actually want to win." He left her alone. The silence was deafening. She pulled off her sweatshirt and used it to stifle the sound as she screamed into it. She was kicking herself. Why do I always push people away when all they are trying to do is help me? She pounded her fists on the keys. Helga noticed that Samson had left the sheet music. She sighed and sat down on the piano bench. The song did not look too difficult. Helga began to play and when she was comfortable with her playing, she began to sing. "C-C'mon babe, why don't we paint the town? And all that jazz. I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down." She grimaced as her fingers slipped, and she hit the wrong notes. "I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down. And all that jazz. Start the car I know a whoopee spot." Helga stopped. She had squeaked as she tried to hit the high note. "Start the car I know a whoopee spot, Where the gin is cold but the piano's hot." She continued through the song with numerous missed notes on both her singing and playing. Frustrated, she banged her head on the keys. "Ow," she yelled aloud.
"You know, for a girl as smart as you, you have very bad judgment and little common sense."
Helga raised her head and stared at Samson, who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his face blank instead of covered in his normal annoyed sneer. "That's about the lot of it," she said.
"You play well."
She shrugged. "It runs in the family, I guess. My sister is a concert pianist in Toronto."
He nodded. "The famous, talented, and award winning Olga Pataki. I figured you were her sister, but I've met your father, and he has never mentioned a younger sister."
Helga remained emotionless. "He rarely does," she whispered.
"Pardon?"
"Um, when did you meet my dad?"
"I was a judge in the pageant when your sister won, another favor for Mrs. Chadwick. Trust me, I hate this thing as much as you do. I saw your dad after the banquet when I was looking for a new cell phone." He eyed Helga. "Your dad went on and on about all of Olga's accomplishments and awards and how proud he and your mom are of her." He waited for Helga to comment, but she said nothing. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I thought that it might be easier if I would play, and you would only have to sing." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, I was trying to help Charlotte with her singing after I had to haul another piano into the room," Helga smirked. "But I quickly discovered she sings like a dying cat." He shook his head. "I am going to have to find a way to tell her she needs a new talent."
Helga smiled slightly. "Fine." Samson took her seat on the piano bench and Helga stood and sang in front of the piano and did much better this time through.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
After a hellish six hours, Arnold walked out of the main theater and into the lobby to wait for Helga. It seemed like they had not gotten anything done, and when it seemed like they did, some one would get another idea or would discover that it was done wrong, and five more tasks were added to the hefty to-do list. He flopped down into one of the fluffy chairs and closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was go to bed and not get up until noon the next day. When he opened them a couple of minutes later, a very exhausted Helga G. Pataki was slowly making her way towards him. "Tiring day?" he asked as he got up.
"Yes." She pushed the door open and walked out into the icy February wind. "I thought I was in amazing shape, but we had to dance for three hours. My legs are killing me."
"Yeah, well you haven't spent the day sanding and priming and nailing boards together." He closed his eyes again as he waited for Helga to start the car. "This is going to take forever."
Helga looked at him. "Well, is it going to look good?"
"It should if we don't completely screw it up."
"Then don't worry about it. All your hard work will be worth it when you see the finished product."
His eyes snapped open. "Who are you, and where is the real Helga?"
"A forty-four year-old convict who escaped from Sing Sing last month, but don't worry, you are in good hands." They rolled their eyes in unison. "I can think positively every once in a while."
"Sure you can," he said sarcastically.
She smiled. "You are probably right. I think it is the hunger talking. All they fed us was a small salad and bottled water. And when I say small, I say microscopic. I think I lost five pounds today. Honestly, how do they expect us to be able to work when they feed us rabbit food?"
"I dunno. I ate a sub at the deli down the street from the Omni."
Helga glared at him. "Well, goody goody for you, but I am starving." She pulled into The Oleander café's parking lot. "Chow time."
They sat at a table for two beside the window. Helga dove into her tuna fish sandwich, fruit salad, and orange smoothie. Arnold's eyes got the best of him and he ate a chicken sandwich, a bag of potato chips, a frozen yogurt, and strawberry smoothie. When she finally came up for air, Helga asked, "I thought you ate sub."
"I did."
"So why are you eating again?"
"I'm hungry. That's the idea of food. You eat when you are hungry."
She shrugged. "I just hope you can keep all that food down tonight."
He took another large bite of his sandwich. "Why?"
Helga stopped and stared at him, a fork full of fruit about an inch from her mouth. "Uh, you have a game tonight against Concordia."
Arnold dropped his sandwich. Over the course of the day he had forgotten about it. Suddenly he had no appetite. "Don't tell me you forgot?"
"I was busy today. Shit."
Helga reached across the table and stole Arnold's yogurt. "I'm sure you'll be fine," she said, eating a large spoonful.
Arnold was beginning to get butterflies in his stomach. I hope so, he thought.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
"Get the ball back, get the ball back, get the ball back. Get the ball back, get the ball back, get the ball back," the West Hillwood cheerleaders yelled, and their chant was quickly followed by mass cheers and applause, but from the other side of the gym. Arnold watched helplessly from the bench as a Concordia player made a short jumper, tying the score at 68 all West Hillwood. Arnold groaned. They had been up by ten a minute ago, and worse yet was their starting point guard, Michael Wallace, had fouled the shooter, and it was his fifth foul. His coach grabbed him by the shoulder. "Arnold, you're in. Play smart and whatever you do, don't turn the ball over!" He shoved Arnold towards the stat table to check in. "Seven for fourteen," he said.
"You have number twelve. He's damn fast, Arnold, so don't let him get past you or you're dead." Michael continued towards the bench and threw a towel over his head as the crowd cheered for him.
Arnold looked up at the clock as the Concordia player got ready to shoot. There was a minute and fifty-eight seconds remaining. The shooter sunk the shot, and gave Concordia their first lead of the night. The two teams matched each other basket for basket and seesawed the lead back and forth for the next minute and a half. After Jake missed a three, Concordia's best player grabbed the rebound and made a lay-up at the other end, giving Concordia the lead, 75-74. "Time out," Arnold said to the referee, and he flung himself into one of the chairs. We can't lose, he thought. We can't loose.
"Arnold," a voice said behind him.
Arnold jumped and turned around. Helga was sitting behind him, which was odd because the junior varsity team always sat behind the team bench and West Hillwood students sat in the students' section across the gym. "Helga, what are you doing? Coach is trying to talk to us!" he hissed.
"Look, Arnold, when you get the ball, take your time going up the court to waste the clock. Pass the ball to Gerald when he's on your right. His defender hasn't been able to keep up with him the whole game, and he has four fouls. The guy wants to be the hero and make the winning shot, so he won't be all over Gerald."
"Pass when he's on my right?"
"Yeah. Twelve's guarding you, right?"
"Yeah."
"He's anticipating you to go to your left since you are left handed, and he's been cheating that way each time. Pass fake and dish it to Gerald."
The buzzer sounded. "You're sure?"
"Yes." She sat back, getting some rather odd looks from the JV team.
"Team!" the players yelled, and Arnold went over everything Helga had just said. Jake walked over to Arnold. "Look, just give it to me. I'll make it. Just give it to me." Arnold glared at Jake's retreating back. Jake had not scored the whole second half. Why did he think he could make it now? Gerald, on the other hand, had not missed a shot the whole quarter. He caught the inbound pass and dribbled up the court. He took his time and wasted about eight seconds, leaving twelve seconds left. He faked left as Gerald cut towards the wing on his right. Arnold quickly passed it to him and Gerald shot a long two. The ball rattled around the rim and finally fell with five seconds left. Concordia tried to get the ball down court as quickly as possible, but Arnold stole the inbound pass and held it as time ran out. He threw the ball into the air and ran towards his teammates, who were quickly joined by the West Hillwood student body who had rushed the floor after the buzzer. Gerald was really the hero of the game, but Arnold supposed that he was a little one as well.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
"To Arnold and Gerald, for one hell of a pass and one hell of a shot!"
It was an hour and a half later, and Arnold, Gerald, Helga, Phoebe, Rhonda, Lorenzo, Harold, Stinky, Sid, and a few more of their friends from school were at Pizza Hut. Helga was giving a toast to the two. "Here, here!" everyone yelled.
Arnold stood up. "To Helga, for telling me what to do and for reminding me that I even had a game today."
"Here, here!"
Arnold finished his third slice of pepperoni pizza, now able to eat again (he had thrown up a bit from nerves before the game). In a battle of undefeated teams, West Hillwood had come out on top, and it was great. "So, Helga, have I finally found out how to play basketball?"
She smiled broadly. "No. You still needed me to tell you what to do."
His shoulders drooped, and he hung his head. "Thanks, Helga."
She laughed. "Relax, Football Head. You executed that perfectly. I suppose you improved a bit, but Stinky and I will still be the crap out of you tomorrow."
He eyed her. "You wanna bet?"
She looked interested. "What does the winner get?"
"Free triple fudge brownie deluxe sundae at Oleanders, courtesy of the loser."
She shook his hand. "You're on. How can I say no to a free triple fudge brownie deluxe sundae?"
"You haven't won yet."
She winked at him. "No, but we will. Aren't we going to cream Gerald and Arnold tomorrow, Stinky?"
"We sure are. Those fellers don't have a chance to beat us, Helga," Stinky said with his mouth full.
"I don't think so. Me and my man Arnold are on the victory train and there aren't any stops for a long time," Gerald shot back, starting an argument between the two boys.
Arnold grabbed another piece of pizza. Life was good.
A/N: This chapter is finally done, mainly because Atlanta got their asses kicked, and it was making me sick to watch, so I channeled my anger into this chapter ^_~. I had a lot of inspiration for this chapter, mainly from the movie Whatever it Takes (a great movie, I highly recommend it). I hope to update by next Saturday, but it might be longer because I am starting a massive term paper for English and that will take up a lot of my time. I hate school. Anyways, the next chapter is "It Takes Two to Tango," at least I think that is what it will be called. I am off to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's. Later Days.