A/N: Here it is, the first chapter of the summer!! I am so happy because I am now officially a junior (well, I don't think I flunked any of my classes so. . .) and I am pumped that I don't have to look at my English paper ever again and that I don't have to open a chem book for three months. Speaking of the English paper, I got a 95 (which is an A – on my teacher's impossible grading scale) and it was supposedly one of the best in the class. Yea for me. That's enough about school. Anyways, since I am currently unemployed (and unhappily in debt), I will be spending a lot of time writing, so hopefully I will be updating soon, barring some crazy computer crash or major writer's block, both of which have a good chance of happening (my computer is not the best . . .and that's a nice way of putting it). But for now, here is the next chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! but I am looking forward to watching it on the Summer Beach House, and I hope that they will play the Summer Love and Married episodes. I have been dying to see both of them, but Nick doesn't seem to want to put them into regular rotation.
Where to Begin
Chapter 11 – That's What Girls Do
Helga smiled as she began to wake up. She was amazed at how sometimes sleeping for a few minutes could feel like a few hours (and how a few fours could feel like only a few minutes, and she really hated that scenario). She turned on her side and started to fall back asleep. She vaguely wondered when Arnold was going to wake her up so they could work on the project; he'd been in the kitchen for a long time. Here it comes, she thought as he shook her shoulder lightly.
"Helga, wake up."
She groaned. "Five more minutes, Arnold. Then I promise we can start."
He stopped. "Helga, you need to get up now."
"Why? What's another five minutes? We have all night to work on the project."
"Helga, it's 7:30."
Her eyes snapped open and she was suddenly wide-awake. "WHAT?" she cried as she shot up and whirled around to look at him, hitting Arnold hard in the nose. He landed on the floor with a thud. "Helga, I think you broke my nose!"
"What time is it?" she asked, though the sunshine falling through Arnold's skylight answered her question before she was finished asking it.
"7:32," he said, gingerly touching his nose.
"Why didn't you wake me up last night?"
He looked her directly in the eye. "Helga, you looked exhausted last night. You needed to sleep."
"But the project—"
"Can wait," he finished as he stood up. "I brought toast up for you. I know you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday, and you should really eat more, but I figured you would not want much because you have practice at nine."
"Arnold, I have practice at eight!"
"Oh." He paused. "I guess you better hurry, then."
She glared at him. Arnold merely shrugged. Helga growled as she flung the blankets off of her. She was muttering something as she left to go to the bathroom. Arnold cleaned up the mess and waited for there return of hurricane Helga. However, she was oddly tranquil when she came back. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I have a problem."
"Helga, you lift the lid up and—"
"Eew! That's disgusting, Arnold. Don't ever say that again."
He laughed slightly. "What is it?"
"I don't have any clothes to wear."
"Go home and get clothes."
"I don't have time."
"So wear what you are wearing."
"This is what I wore yesterday at practice."
"And you put that on after your shower? And slept on my couch? That's gross." Arnold cringed.
"I let them air out, and I wasn't expecting to spend the night!" She glared at him, her arms crossed.
"So?"
"So it will look bad if I am wearing the same clothes." Arnold blinked, so she continued. "And it will look as if I didn't go home last night."
"But you didn't."
"Arnold! My team knows I was coming over here, and if I go there wearing the same clothes it would look as if I spent the night."
"But you did."
"I know that! But it would look as if we, you know . . ."
"As if we what?"
"IT WOULD LOOK AS IF WE HAD SEX!" she screamed at her dense friend.
"Oh. OH. Oops."
She rolled her eyes. "So can I borrow some clothes?"
He walked over to his drawers and pulled out a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, a sweatshirt, and a pair of socks. "Wait, if you are wearing my clothes, won't that look like we, you know?"
She snatched the clothes from his hands. "I doubt they've memorized your wardrobe, Football Head." She left to go to the bathroom, grabbing the toast on her way.
He gritted his teeth. "You're welcome."
Helga came back in the room a few moments later and threw her stuff in her bag. "Hasta luego, Arnoldo," she said as she rushed out the door. Arnold sighed and went to the bathroom. His toothbrush, which he had left in the bathroom last night beside the rest of his toiletries, was lying beside the toothpaste tube, the cap about a foot away. He sighed. She's wearing my clothes, used my toothbrush, and left as soon as she could without cuddling. I think I've had my first one nightstand, he thought, except I didn't have sex.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Helga was beyond exhausted. She had arrived two minutes late to practice and though she only had to run two laps after practice, it had been grueling by itself. Arnold was right, she was fatigued and would probably be in worse shape if he had not let her sleep. She was not surprised at how sweet he could be. However, it bothered her that he would let her sleep instead of working on the project, but he had had a fit when she went on her date with Jake. Helga knew that these were two different situations, but her date had been earlier in the week when they had more time to work, not on the Friday before the project was due. Why did Arnold go so spastic? I mean, I did blow him off, and that was shitty of me and I apologized, but I still can't shake the feeling that there was more to it then that.
"Helga, wake up," Callie hissed.
"Huh, oh, right," Helga stumbled slightly as she got up from her sitting position on the floor and went to her spot for the opening number. "Lila," she said as she stopped beside the annoying redhead.
"Helga."
Helga rolled her eyes and paid attention to Miss Sheltie, copying her moves and avoiding eye contact with Lila. The previous night's incident still lingered in the minds of all the girls; Helga had gotten a few glares when she walked in. She sighed. Why, out of all the girls in her school who could be in the pageant with her, why did it have to be Lila?
They finished practicing dancing an hour later. Helga's feet were killing her and her patience was wearing thin. She had discovered that Lila was trying to annoy Helga so she would hit Lila and thus be kicked out of the pageant, but she was going to have to try harder than that.
"Miss Pataki, have you decided on a talent performance?" Samson asked her after she was done practicing the dance numbers.
"Ugh, don't remind me."
"Miss Pataki, the pageant is in two weeks. It would be in your best interest to make your decision by Monday."
"Helga could juggle basketballs or burp for five minutes. That's about all the talent she has. That and singing off key," Lila said from behind them.
Samson was not amused. "Miss Sawyer, I believe?"
"Yes," she replied, smiling sweetly.
"I would suggest that you keep your mouth shut when it comes to talent. After all, Miss Pataki's parents did not have to pull a few strings to get her into the pageant."
Lila's smile disappeared, and she glared at both of them. "Of course they didn't. Helga's parents don't even notice she's alive, between spending time with her sister and evading their taxes."
Helga's face went bright red, and Samson glared coldly at Lila. "It's funny. I would assume that someone of your stature to have more class than someone who you claim is the daughter of crooks, but I guess that is the poor white trash part of you coming out. Miss Pataki, please follow me. We have work to do."
Helga followed him, but she could not help but see the tears forming in Lila's eyes. Even though Lila had said awful things to her, she felt that what Samson said went too far. "Thanks, but don't you think you crossed the line?"
He looked Helga squarely in the eye. "Helga, Lila has no right to act like she is superior to you and deserved everything I said to her for making such low insults."
Helga nodded, but she could not help but feel bad for Lila. It was easy to forget that the girl still had feelings. Callie interrupted Helga's thoughts. "Hey, Helga! Arnold's waiting for you!"
"Okay." She turned to Samson. "I promise I will have something in mind for Monday."
"Right. Good day, Miss Pataki."
Helga ran to the lobby where Arnold, Josh, and Callie were sitting. Josh and Callie seemed to be fighting about something.
"What are you talking about? That movie sucked!"
"I am telling you. Tom Hanks was much better in Cast Away than in Big."
"You have got to be kidding me! Arnold, which do you think Tom Hanks was better in?"
Arnold stared at both of them. "Uh, personally I liked Forrest Gump the best."
Josh shook his head. "What about you, Helga?"
"Ditto, though I really liked Toy Story. I mean, Tom Hanks as a cowboy doll. What could be better than that?"
Arnold raised an eyebrow at her. "What?" she snapped. He just shook his head. "Are you ready to go?"
"Go where?" Callie asked.
"My friend is taking us shopping," Helga said simply.
"Shopping? Can I go?"
"Uh," she started, but Josh interrupted her. "And you are going?" he asked Arnold.
"Uh, yeah. My friend Gerald and his girlfriend are also coming."
"Well, do you mind if I come too? I got nothing to do."
Arnold rolled his eyes. You only want to come because Callie's coming. "Sure," Helga and Arnold said together. Josh and Callie ran outside together, making plans for the afternoon. Arnold sighed. "This just got even more interesting."
Helga shrugged. "I guess." She pushed the door open and walked slowly to her car.
"Hey, Helga?"
"What?"
"Nice clothes."
She glared at him. "Yeah, they look a hella lot better on me than on you." She smirked. "I think I'll just keep them."
"Helga! That's my favorite shirt!"
"This?" She looked down at the old basketball camp shirt. "You have got to be kidding me! It's hideous!"
"Then I guess you won't mind parting with it, than?"
She thought about it for a while. "Hmm. . . wrong!" she cried as she ran away from him.
"Helga! Get back here!" He ran after her. This is going to be one long day, he thought.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Josh and Arnold waited for Helga outside her house in Josh's red '86 Cutlass. Callie was in the back staring out the window, and Arnold guessed she was wishing she could get out of the hideous car and away from dull-as-dirt Arnold and Josh, the crazy boy who was in love with her. Arnold did not know what to think of the girl yet. His thoughts were interrupted by Helga slamming her front door shut. She ran towards the car, dressed in typical Helga fashion: jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt jacket, light blue and white Vans, and her black pea coat, though today she wore her long hair down instead of up in a ponytail. "Let's go," she said, and they sped downtown to A Pour Vedette la Lumière, a beauty salon on Keystone Avenue, Hillwood's version of 5th avenue or Rodeo Drive, to meet Rhonda, Gerald, and Phoebe.
The other three were already there when they arrived, and Rhonda wrinkled her nose at Josh's car. Her face burst into a large smile when she saw Helga get out of the car. "Oh, Helga, aren't you excited? This is the last time you will ever have to wear those atrocious clothes!"
"Thrilled," Helga said, her dark eyes glaring at Rhonda.
"Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, you are as bitchy as ever," Callie said as she walked up to Rhonda, a smirk on her face.
"I still have a long way to reach your standards, Callista Reese Oxford Faye Hayeworth," Rhonda snapped, and the other five watched in horror as the two girls embraced.
"Wait, you two know each other?" Helga managed to ask.
"Yeah, we spent one awful summer together at finishing school," Rhonda said with a laugh. "This is Gerald Johanssen, and Phoebe Hyerdahl, and you already know Helga and Arnold, but who is this boy with the, er, classic car?"
"Oh, it's just Josh. Don't mind him."
"Thanks, Cal," he said.
"Anytime. So, where are we going?" Callie asked Rhonda. The two led the way. Gerald and Phoebe followed, and Helga, Arnold, and Josh walked together in the back. Helga stared at the bright, cloudless sky as they walked. "I can't believe I am doing this," she mumbled.
"Relax, it will be over before you know it," Arnold said, trying to cheer her up.
"Do you think it is too late to fake my own death and move to Canada?"
Josh, who was usually the one saying odd things, stared at Helga after her strange comment. "What would you do in Canada?" he asked cautiously.
"I dunno, eat bacon and live with a pack of penguins. Wait, they live at the South Pole, not in Canada. Okay, I'll play hockey, eat bacon, and live with the moose in the off season."
"Moose?" Josh and Arnold asked together.
"Yeah, moose."
"Why moose?" Josh asked.
"Why not? I can't live with the penguins. Wouldn't you like to live with a bunch of moose?"
"I can't say I've ever thought about it."
"Well, maybe you should."
"Is she always like this?" Josh whispered to Arnold as Helga returned to staring at the sky and daydreaming of living in the Canadian wilderness.
"Sleep depravation affects people in different ways," was all he said.
"It looks nice," Arnold said when they reached the outside of the salon.
"You only say that because it has a French word in the title. For all we know it could mean, I don't know, dead raccoon."
"Helga, you take French."
"So do you, and you know that woman has not taught us a damn thing in the two and a half years we have been taking her class." Arnold decided not to say anything else so that Helga would not go into a spiel about how horrible their school's teachers were. She could talk about that for hours.
The group walked into the salon, and automatically Arnold felt he was in a mental institution; it was very white, very clean, and he could not tell if there really was weird techno music playing or if it was just inside his head. Rhonda led them to the front desk where a young woman was filing her nails. He could tell her natural hair was a dark red underneath the bright red and blonde highlights. Crystal blue eyes were hidden behind cat-eye glasses and spider-like eyelashes. Her porcelain complexion blended with the while walls, yet greatly contrasted with her form-fitting black dress. She was very skinny and reminded Arnold that sometimes girls could be too thin. She had not acknowledged their presence until Rhonda cleared her throat.
"Yes?" she said in a pseudo-European accent. Her lip curled up in mild disgust. "You are the Lloyd girl, right?"
"Yes," Rhonda said haughtily.
"What problem are we going to have fixed today?"
Rhonda sneered, yet remind pleasant. It was all very creepy. "Actually, my friend has an appointment."
The girl's eyes settled on Phoebe. "Does she want to learn how to color her hair properly?"
Phoebe blushed and Gerald looked like he was going to jump the girl. Personally, Arnold liked Phoebe's hair. It was stick straight and was slightly choppy. Blue and purple lowlights finished her look by complimenting her dark locks. Helga stepped forward looking very annoyed. "It's my appointment."
"Oh. Well, we can't afford to waste any more time then. My name is Raquel, and if you need anything just call."
"Raquel?" Helga asked.
"Yes, that's my name." Helga raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Raquel picked up the phone. "Paolo, your twelve of clock is ready."
"Twelve of clock? Who says twelve of clock? That's what the apostrophe is for!" Gerald whispered to Arnold. Arnold just shrugged.
A few moments later, a very thin man dressed in black from head to toe and sunglasses burst through a pair of French doors that separated his part of the salon from the rest. He snapped his fingers. "My dear Raquel, who is my next masterpiece in waiting?"
"The blonde girl," she said simply as they kissed cheeks (or did they just bump cheeks? Arnold could not tell from his angle). She handed him a small cup of cappuccino as a group of solemn women emerged from behind the French doors. They were all beautiful women, but every one of the girls looked alike; the same hair style though different shades, same make-up, same short black dress, same hose, same shoes, same jewelry, and same expressionless face. Arnold sighed. Is this what Helga is going to become? He glanced at Rhonda and feared for Helga's future. Paolo began to circle Helga like a vulture. "Let me see." He lifted her chin. "Decent bone structure, clear complexion, though it is a bit on the pale side. We will need to use sunless tanning lotion. The make-up needs a lot of work. The eyes are nice, but hidden behind caveman brows."
"You should have seen her when she was younger," Gerald piped up. He was silenced by everyone's glares. Helga looked like she was about to kill him.
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Paolo continued. Arnold would have guessed the man was Italian, but his accent sounded more German. Or was it more French? Heck, he might change it to Russian before the conversation was over. "The brows need to be dealt with. The hair," he paused momentarily for dramatic effect. Or what he thought was dramatic effect. "A passable color, but the natural highlights need to be enhanced, and it needs to be shortened and shaped." He took her hand and raised an eyebrow at her. "You are rather skinny. Tell me, do you live on your finger nails because that is what it looks like when I see your hands." Helga blushed furiously. "Come, we begin," he yelled shrewdly.
Helga was led through the French doors and was sat down in a large, black leather chair in front of numerous mirrors and hair care products, while the others sat against the wall in very stylish yet very uncomfortable black leather chairs, far away from Helga and Paolo. Raquel handed them mugs. "Here, you can drink cappuccino and read magazines. Maybe you could learn a thing or two."
Gerald opened the copy of Vogue that Raquel threw in his lap. "How am I supposed to read this?"
Raquel, who had been talking with Rhonda (if you could call it that. She was actually telling Rhonda everything that was wrong with her outfit), kneeled slightly in front of Gerald. "You see, you open up the magazine and –"
"I know how to read," he said loudly. "But the magazine's in Italian."
"What, you want it in English?"
"Well, that is what language we speak in this country the last time I checked."
She rolled her eyes and threw him a copy of Self. Arnold pulled the Hank Aaron autobiography out of Josh's bag and Josh began to read the latest Sports Illustrated.
"Ah, man, do you have something I can read?" Gerald asked the other two boys.
"Sorry," they said. "You should have brought something," Arnold said as she started chapter six.
Gerald began to pout. Phoebe was talking to the other girls and the boys were reading. "Screw you guys. You don't know what you are missing. I mean, I have been dying to," he opened the magazine. "Learn the best methods for waxing?!"
Phoebe, Callie, and Rhonda stopped talking and stared at him. "I have needs too!" he cried. The girls returned to their conversation and decided to leave Gerald alone for a while.
"Now, my dear," Paolo said as he tossed Helga's hair a couple of times. He had first made her change into a skimpy little dress. Arnold figured he was just some kind of pervert (though his first guess was that Paolo was gay), but Rhonda said it was normal and that he would understand in a while. Helga, however, did not seem happy at all. "I am sure you have a wonderful personality, but I am not here to worry about that. I only care about the external beauty."
"That's a hell of a message to send to teenage girls everywhere," Helga spat as she rolled her eyes.
He grabbed her chin and jerked her face towards his. "No no, you will not speak. You will only watch as I create beauty that you have never imagined." She glared at him but said nothing. "Now," he snapped his fingers and the girls brought him the supplies for highlighting Helga's hair. "I will streak you hair. You are a blonde, I can feel it."
"Gee, I never noticed the blonde hair that was growing out of my head. I always thought it was red," she muttered.
"Silence!" he cried, and began to apply the color. "Yes, you are blonde, but you have not captured the true blonde from within!" Helga just rolled her eyes. A half hour and many chemicals later, Paolo was finished highlighting, and Helga looked like she was picking up basic cable. He snapped his fingers again. "Girls, the next step, please."
Arnold, Gerald, and Josh sat up at this. The girls brought out a cart filled with hot wax. The three boys had never understood why girls would go to such pains. Then again, they did not enjoy dating a girl with more body hair than they had. "First, the brows."
One girl applied the wax while others began working on her pedicure. "You can tell a lot about a girl from her feet and her eyebrows," Paolo said.
"And what is that OW!" Helga cried as the hair was ripped out.
"Silence, my child. Just listen to Paolo. Do not question him."
"Ow!" she cried again as the left brow was waxed. The boys cringed along with Helga as her eyebrows were tweezed. "Thank God I was blessed with eyebrows and not a unibrow," Gerald said.
"Amen to that," Josh added.
"Thank God," Helga said when the girl was finished. "Damn it," she hissed as more wax was poured on her legs.
"It must be done, my dear Helga," Paolo said. The boys watched in horror as the hair was ripped and ripped again from Helga's legs. "I have never been so glad I was a guy," Gerald said.
Helga whimpered as her legs were waxed. She sighed at the end. "One more girls," Paolo said.
"I can assure you that my arm pits are hair free. Then again, so were my legs, but that didn't stop you."
"I was not referring to your arm pits."
Helga's, Arnold's, Gerald's, Josh's and Phoebe's eyebrows shot up at this. "No, no, no, no! You are not doing that!"
"Helga, it has to be done."
"No, it doesn't!"
"Helga."
"No!"
"Don't you want to win the swimsuit competition?"
"There is no swimsuit competition!"
"Oh. Well then, we can move on."
Helga's nails were done and she was tanned up with the sunless tanning lotion and was given a facial. After Paolo rinsed her hair, he put her back in the chair and took out a pair of scissors. "So, my dear Helga, what did you have in mind?"
"Just a little trim," she said, surprised that he would ask for her opinion.
"Here," he said, pointing just below her shoulder.
"No, more about here," she said, putting her finger on her hair about two inches up from the ends, which reached halfway down her back.
"Here," he said, going a little higher.
"No, here," she said, gesturing to the same spot.
"Okay, you talked me into it," he said as he chopped off a bunch of hair just below her chin. The others watched in amazement, and Helga was too stunned to form words. "See, you are speechless. That is a wonderful thing." He continued cutting her hair, and Helga remained motionless. "Come, we finish with your makeup," he said, leading Helga to a back part of the salon.
"Poor Helga," Phoebe said.
"What's so poor about her? I'm paying for this whole thing and she better appreciate it," Rhonda snapped.
"Maybe she wasn't ready for this," Phoebe added.
"What's to be ready for? It's just a snip and a rip here and there. She will look a million times better once she is done."
Paolo returned looking exhausted. "It has taken every bit of strength that Paolo possesses, but my dear Rhonda, Paolo never disappoints. Here is the new Helga!" he cried. Helga walked about behind him, dressed in her normal clothes, and looking extremely nervous. Her long blonde hair was now at her chin and was styled so that the layers flipped out. Her makeup was very natural and she seemed to be glowing. Her nails were done in a perfect French manicure and Arnold could only guess her toes looked similar.
"Another masterpiece!" Rhonda cried.
"Wow," Josh breathed.
"Ditto," Gerald said.
Arnold was as amazed as the others, but he could not help but notice the gleam of sadness in Helga's dark eyes. "You look great, Helga," he said.
"Thanks," she replied quietly. Callie and Phoebe detected it as well because they downplayed Helga's latest transformation.
"Ooh, Helga, now we get to go shopping with your new look!" Rhonda cried as she paid for Helga's hefty beauty bill. She grabbed Helga's arm and pulled her out the door and down the street. Josh and Gerald quickly followed, and Arnold and the other girls walked slowly in the back.
"Something's bothering her," Phoebe said.
"She just had a layer of skin ripped off. You wouldn't be happy either," Callie said.
"I think I goes deeper then that." Arnold sighed. "She did not want this at all."
"I know," the girls said together. "But what can we do? Rhonda's taken over," Phoebes finished.
Arnold wished he could talk to Helga alone, but Rhonda was not letting the girl get three feet away from her. She led them from one boutique to another, buying piles of clothes, jewelry, and shoes without asking Helga if she even liked the outfits. The others watched as Helga tried on outfit after outfit, all designer clothes, but Helga did not seem to want to be a human billboard. She only seemed to like two of the hundreds of outfits she tried on. Helga felt like she was with Johnny Stitches again, though the clothes he designed for her looked like her normal ones. The clothes Rhonda was buying for her looked nothing like the rest of her wardrobe; they looked very New Yorkish and very modern and sophisticated. Helga felt guilty for hating everything Rhonda was doing for her, but she could not help it. She wanted to be her own person, not Rhonda's puppet. She was about to fall over when Rhonda proclaimed, "Last stop!"
Helga looked up at the signed. Reilly Dresden was written in block letters. At least she's sane, she thought. Helga had come extremely close to strangling not only Rhonda but also many of the stupidly crazy and annoying workers on their odyssey to make Helga look like a clone of Rhonda. Well, a blonde one. Helga pulled the door open and was surprised to see Reilly herself sitting in a chair sewing the hem of a short black dress. Rhonda spoke up first. "Ms. Dresden, it is a pleasure to see you again."
Reilly looked up and stared at Rhonda for a moment as if trying to place the annoying voice and face with someone she had met before. She gave up and turned to Helga. "Helga, darling, it's ever so nice to see you. And you brought Ms. Hayeworth with you. How ever so charming."
Helga was about to faint from shock and being disgusted when Callie spoke up. "Been working with the bitch, have we?"
Reilly smiled. "Yeah, she was just in. This is her dress, actually." Reilly held the slinky thing up for everyone to see it.
"That's what she's wearing? It's a little trashy, don't you think?" Phoebe asked. She covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, I am sorry, Ms. Dresden. I didn't mean to insult you."
"It's okay. I agree with you. I make a few of those every once in a while because some people like to look like that." She stood up and stretched. "I pissed her and her stepmother off, though. Lila was dead set on wearing this dress, and I told her that if she wanted to wear such a plunging neck line she better get herself something to hold it up." Reilly laughed. "Yeah, they got a bit mad at me, but what can you do?"
Helga smiled. She finally found someone today who could help her without making her feel like she was trailer trash just because she did not wear designer clothes. I guess all that is about to change, she thought as the looked at the numerous bags Arnold, Gerald, and Josh were carrying.
"Oh, girls, I finished your costumes for 'All that Jazz.'" She walked over to a large group of clothes and pulled out two short, white fringed dresses. Helga just stared at it when Reilly handed to her. "What's wrong with it?"
"Well, it looks like it would only cover about two inches of my butt," Helga said, examining the dress even more.
"Just try it on." Callie and Helga disappeared behind two gold curtains and the others sat down. Or rather, Rhonda and Phoebe sat down; Gerald, Josh, and Arnold collapsed on a sofa. They had spent the afternoon carrying a combined thirty-three heavy bags up and down Keystone Avenue. Josh sighed. "Remind me never to go shopping with the fashion witch ever again."
"Only if you remind me too," Gerald said. Rhonda merely crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air. It was clear that she was still mad about Reilly snubbing her.
Callie was the first to come out of the dressing room. She strutted out and spun around a couple of times. Hers was a halter style and had white sequins with gold fringe. Callie's was cut short as well and hugged her curves nicely. Arnold noticed that Josh's eyes were about to fall out. "I love it. It's perfect, Reilly."
"I knew you would like it. Now I want to see the star of the show, please," she yelled at Helga.
"No way!"
"Helga, come on. It's just your friends and I out here. I need to see if the dress needs to be altered." She raised an eyebrow as Callie began to practice their routine in the dress.
"Oh, it definitely needs altered."
"What's wrong with it?"
"My ass is hanging out of it. That's what is wrong with it!"
"Helga, just let me see it."
"No!"
"Helga, stop being such a baby and just come out," Gerald said as he rubbed his forehead.
"Fine! You want to see it, here it is!" Helga whipped the curtain back and glared at them, and Arnold felt his jaw drop. Helga looked unbelievable. The dress was all white fringes with spaghetti straps. It was cut low, but tastefully low, and Helga was right about the length, but Arnold had to admit, with legs like hers, there really was no need to hide them. She looked even better now that she was tanner. She walked over to the boys, all of whom were staring at her, and pulled out a pair of white stilettos. She sat down to put them on, careful not to show anyone something they were not supposed to see. She stood up, and the boys could not take their eyes off her long legs. "How does this look?" she asked as she stood up.
"Amazing," Gerald said, and Phoebe glared at him.
Helga laughed. "Does this mean I will have no trouble winning over the male judges?"
"Nope!" Callie giggled.
"So, is it okay?" Reilly asked.
Helga sighed. "Yeah, I guess."
"Good because now the fun part begins." She pulled out a five carts filled with dresses. "Take your pick."
Helga and Callie exchanged glances and then bombarded the carts, carrying as many dresses as they could into the dressing room. Callie came out first wearing a shiny gold dress with a low back and neckline. "This is what I am wearing to the banquet." She went back to the dressing room and picked to more dresses, one for the talent competition and one for the evening gown competition, and sat down in her normal clothes. "Where's Helga? Hasn't she come out yet?"
"No," Gerald moaned. "Can someone please tell that girl that the purpose of trying clothes on is to put it on, show us, decide if it is good or not, and move on. Why is that so hard for her to understand?"
Callie and Phoebe sighed and went into Helga's dressing room. "Helga, what's wrong?" Phoebe asked.
"I am not doing this."
Callie sighed. "Helga, we have been through this all day. Can you do us a favor and just pick a dress?"
Helga shot her a dirty look and sighed. Phoebe smiled. "Helga, at least pick a pretty dress," she said as she looked at the green dress Helga was wearing.
"What's wrong with it?"
"It looks like the Little Mermaid throw up a side of guacamole."
Helga and Callie laughed. "I guess you are right. But what am I supposed to wear?"
Callie and Phoebe smiled at each other and then at Helga. "Honey, just leave it to us."
Fifteen minutes later, the three girls finally came out of the dressing room with three dress bags. "We are ready to go!" Callie cried.
"Let me see." Reilly walked over and opened each of the bags. "Amazing. These were the three dresses I was hoping you would wear. Girls, you got great taste." She walked over to the counter and wrote down a few receipts and handed them to Callie and Helga. "Just return the dresses to me after the banquet. And Callie, I have your other dress done." She handed it to her. "If you girls need anything, just call."
"Thanks, Reilly. See ya later. Let's go, guys," Helga said as she walked to the door.
"About time," Josh groaned.
"Aren't you going to show us?" Rhonda asked.
"You'll see them eventually since you will want to help pick out jewelry."
"Oh yeah."
"What about the rest of us?" Arnold asked.
Helga stared at him for a moment and laughed. "You like this whole shopping thing, don't you. Football Head?"
Arnold blushed. "No, I just wanted to know what you were going to wear."
"Well, you will just have to be surprised," she said, laughing. Arnold smiled. It was nice to see her happy again.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
"I can not believe you made me wear this to a basketball game."
Helga was standing outside the West Hillwood High gym freezing her butt off. Rhonda had made her wear a khaki mini skirt, tall tan boots, and a white blouse with pink and gold stripes that showed some of her midriff. It was not the best thing to wear considering the temperature was well below freezing. Rhonda had also dolled her up so that she looked as if she was twenty-two instead of sixteen. She tapped her foot impatiently and to see if it still worked.
"You look great, Helga." Phoebe said, trying to cheer Helga up. It did not work.
"Rhonda, seriously. Why couldn't you wait until Monday to unveil me to the public? Why couldn't I wear my own clothes one last time, kinda like a last meal sort of thing?" She snapped as she pulled the door open.
"Helga, please don't refer to the new look that I spent hundreds of dollars on as a sort of death row. For some odd reason, our school chooses basketball games to be major social events, so it is the perfect chance to show yourself off."
"What if I don't want to show myself off?"
"Trust me, you will be fine."
Helga growled and walked into the gym. As she led the way to the student's section in the bleachers, she could feel the hundreds of gazes following her. Matt Gordon yelled at her as she climbed the steps. "Helga Pataki, looking mighty fine tonight!"
She sat down two rows behind him. "Thanks, Gordon."
"Yeah, Helga, you are looking sweet," another boy called. Many more were staring at her.
"See, isn't this great?" Rhonda asked her.
"Yeah, great," Helga replied as a bunch of girls crowded around her to ask her were she got her clothes and who cut her hair.
"Hey, aren't you from St. James?" a boy asked Callie when all the girls left.
"Yeah," she said with a little smile.
"So shouldn't you be sitting in the away bleachers since you are from the opposing school."
Callie's smile disappeared and she glared at the boy. "You know, I sat over here because I saw you when I walked inside, and I thought you were cute."
"Really?" the boy asked. He was a really cute senior who had hung out with Helga and Jake a couple times. He was also a major ass.
"Yeah, but since you are acting all bitchy to me, I think I will just sit back and watch the game from whatever side of the gym I feel like. So turn around."
His friends bust out laughing at him, but the boy just stared at her in disbelief. "I told you to turn around!" she said and pushed the boy away with her foot. The people around her went crazy.
"Yeah! About time someone told Turner what's what."
"Hell yeah! That girl's awesome!"
Callie smiled at Helga. "I like your school."
"That makes one of us. You weren't really looking at Turner when we walked in, were you?"
"Heck no. There are tons of guys like that at St. James. I could see it from across the gym."
Helga just laughed and watched the game, which was difficult considering that every few minutes someone would comment on her new look, and Lila was glaring at her every chance she got. She managed to survive it all and was happy to see that her two favorite guys played really well in their win. "I'll see you guys later," Helga said to Phoebe, Callie, and Rhonda as she went to talk to Jake after the game.
"Helga!" he cried. Jake picked her up and spun her around a few times. "Helga, you amazing."
"Really?"
"Yep." He kissed her lightly as he put her down. "So, what do you want to do, my dear? The night is yours."
She giggled. "You have no idea how dorky you sound, do you?"
"I am aware, but I don't care because I have the most gorgeous girlfriend so it doesn't really matter how I look, now does it?"
"Nope."
"So, what shall we do?"
"I don't care."
"What to go to a party?"
She shrugged slightly. "Why not?"
He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Great! I can't wait to show you off." Great, she thought as he grabbed her hand and pulled her outside.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Helga glanced at her watch. 11:38. She sighed. She had been at this party for nearly two hours and she was bored out of her mind. She was watching a movie (she had been watching it for a half hour and she still was not sure what it was) and people make complete fools of themselves. She had already seen a boy who had a steady girl friend make out with a freshman, a couple break up and then make up, and had seen three people puke from drinking too much. Jake was currently playing pool with some of his friends. He had "showed her off" for the first half hour they were there and then he decided to shoot pool. Helga, on the other hand, tried to make conversation with people at the party, who were mostly seniors and seemed to love her new look, and had played poker for an hour. She smiled as she thought about the wad of cash in her purse. That taught the boys never to play poker for money with her. She sighed and returned her attention back to the movie.
"Hey, Helga, how's it going?" Jeff Hershey asked her as he sat down beside her. Jeff was in her Chem II class, and she had always gotten along with him.
"Fine. How 'bout you?"
"Good, good." He held up a glass. "Beer's good, party's good, life's good, I'm good."
Helga smiled politely at his attempt to be witty and prepared herself for a couple of minutes with another member of the drunk population of the party, which was most of them. "Sound's like you are having a hell of a time."
"Yeah, yeah. Say, you know what else is good?"
"What?"
"You. You are looking real good tonight, Helga."
"Thanks," she said slowly. She tried to slide away from him, but he put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. "Uh, Jeff, could you maybe let go of me?" she asked, but he ignored her.
"Yeah, Helga Pataki, you are looking really good tonight. I always thought you were a sexy chic, but tonight you have really out done yourself."
"That's nice, but I really think I should find Jake." She tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip.
"No, no, stay Helga. Just stay a little longer." His words trailed off as he began kissing her neck.
"Okay, Jeff, I think I need to be leaving now." She tried to get up, but Jeff pushed her and made her lay on the couch. He pinned her down and began to move his hands down her back as he kissed her collarbone.
"Jeff, seriously, GET OFF!" she cried. Why the hell isn't anyone doing anything? she thought. They were not the only ones in the living room.
"Shh, Helga, you are ruining this beautiful moment," he whispered as he began kissing her on the lips. She almost threw up when he put his tongue in her mouth. She pushed him away from her. She struck him in the nose with her palm.
He rolled off of her, holding his nose. "Damn it, Helga! What the fuck did you do that for?"
She stood up on the couch and tried to jump off it and get away, but Jeff grabbed her legs. "Helga, don't do this. C'mon."
Helga managed to kick him in the gut, and the first thing she heard when he dropped her was a loud crack. She looked back and saw Jeff on the ground. Jake helped her up and hugged her tightly. "My God, Helga, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so." She looked up at him. "Can we just go?"
"Yeah." He led her to the door. Alexis Manley, the girl who was hosting the party, stopped them before they left. "Helga, I am so sorry."
"It's okay, Alexis. It was not your fault."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, now I am."
Alexis smiled. "Thank goodness Jake was there to beat the shit out of Jeff."
"Yeah."
"I'll see you guys on Monday, and I am really sorry."
"Don't worry about it, Alexis," Jake said. "Later." He opened the car door for Helga and helped her in. He glanced at her as he started the car. "Are you sure you are alright?"
"Yeah, I think so." She sighed. "It's no big deal. So a drunken loser tried to make out with me. It was nothing I couldn't handle." He did not say anything. "But I am glad you were there to help me."
"I should have been there the whole time. I am sorry I wasn't."
"Jake, I don't expect you to spend every minute with me at a party. You were with your friends, and there was no way you could have guessed that would happen. And what are the chances it will happen again, especially since you gave Jeff one hell of a bruise on his jaw."
Jake blushed slightly. "I guess so. I can see why he did it, though. You look amazing tonight, Helga."
It was her turn to blush. "Thanks," she said as they pulled up to her house. "Well, good night," she whispered to him as they walked up to her stoop.
"Well, not quite," he said. "I was wondering if I could get something to drink really quick."
She smirked at him. "Is that what they refer to it as nowadays?"
"No," he said laughing. "I had two beers and I want something to drink to cover up the smell so that my mom doesn't notice."
"Are you sure you don't just want a breath mint?" she asked as she opened the door.
"That'll work as well."
Helga giggled as she stepped into the house, but her mood quickly changed. "Shit."
"What's wrong?"
She jerked her head in the direction of the living room. "My parents are still up."
"Really? I'd love to meet them." Jake stared towards the living room.
"Jake, no!" she cried but it was too late.
"Helga, honey, are you home?" Miriam called.
Helga smacked herself in the forehead as she walked into the living room. "Yeah. Uh, Mom, Dad, this is Jake Richardson, my boyfriend. Jake, this is my mom, Miriam, and my dad, Bob."
"It's nice to meet you," Jake said.
"Oh, honey it's nice to meet you, too," Miriam said, shaking his hand. "Helga has told us so much about you."
Helga rolled her eyes. When was this, Mom, during our mother-daughter camping trip last weekend?
"Richardson, eh? You the shooting guard for the basketball team?"
"Yes, sir," Jake said, sitting down. Helga said beside him and prayed that her parents would act normal. "Yeah, in fact, we played today and won 79 – 56."
"Wow, that's great," Miriam said as she sipped her coffee. "How did you do?"
Jake laughed. "Not bad. I had fifteen points, six assists, and eleven rebounds. At least I think I did. All I know is that the team won and played well."
"Ah, there's no need to be humble when you are good. I tell Helga that all the time, but she never listens."
Helga could not believe her ears. Big Bob had not been to a game all season and definitely had not giver her advice, though that did sound like the kind of crappy advice he'd give her.
Jake was laughing. "Yeah, but Helga's one of those rare players who are great and humble." He squeezed her hand.
"Yeah, she is one of those golden players," Bob replied. Helga managed to force a tight smile. At the moment all she wanted to do was scream at her parents and tell them what liars and awful parents they were. They continued to make small talk with Jake and act like model parents.
"So, Helga dear, how's the pageant coming?" Miriam asked.
"Fine, Mom. It's going just fine."
"Have you seen her practice?" Bob asked Jake.
"A little, but I am sure she will be great." He smiled at her, and she tired to smile wider, but all she wanted to do was scream.
"Damn right. She'll do great. Just like her older sister, Olga."
Helga's eyes narrowed. She was wondering when Olga's name would come into the mix. Naturally, Big Bob and Miriam began to talk about their amazing and perfect daughter. Jake smiled politely, but she could tell he did not care about Olga. Another plus for Jake, she thought.
"Well, I really have to go. I don't want to keep you up any longer. It was very nice meeting you," Jake said after a few minutes of Olga stories.
"It was nice to meet you too, Jake," Miriam said.
"Yeah, you'll have to come back so we can talk more sports," Bob said.
"C'mon, Jake, I'll get you that drink." Helga pushed him towards the kitchen and away from her parents. She handed him a Coke and a stick of Big Red gum.
He took a long drink. "Thanks. You know, Helga, your parents aren't that bad," he whispered as she walked him to his car. "Sure they talk about your sister a lot, and that was a little weird, but they are just proud of her, just like they are proud of you." He kissed her gently, as if he was afraid he would hurt her. "Are you sure you are okay?"
"Yes, Jake, I am fine." She kissed him deeply. They pulled apart after a few moments. "I guess so," he breathed. Helga giggled. "Good night, Helga," he said, finally pulling away and got in his car.
"Bye, Jake," she watched him as he drove away, and she went back inside. She grabbed a glass of orange juice and almost made it upstairs before Miriam called, "Helga, honey, come here. Your father and I want to talk to you."
Helga growled and walked back to the living room. She sat back down and glared at her parents. "What?"
Miriam ignored her daughter's displeased tone. "So, Jake seems like a nice boy."
"Yeah."
"How long have you been dating?"
Helga's eyes narrowed even more. "Shouldn't you know since I've told you about him so much?" she snapped.
"Hey! Don't talk like that to your mother, little lady," Bob barked at her.
She glared at him for a few seconds, then turned back to Miriam. "I dunno, a couple of days."
"Well, I am glad you found yourself a good boy from a good family instead of that orphan boy you are always hanging around. Alfred, is that his name?"
"Arnold," she hissed as she tightened her grip on the glass.
"Yeah, Arnie."
"So, dear, when did you get that beautiful hair cut?" her mom asked.
"Today since I had long hair last night." She waited to see if they would say anything about her being gone all night, but they said nothing.
"And that outfit is so cute! Did you buy it today too?"
"Yeah," she lied. She was not in the mood to explain the whole Rhonda plan to her parents.
"Don't you think her outfit and haircut is cute, Bob?"
"Yeah, it makes her look even more like Olga," he said loudly as he changed the television channel.
Helga felt like she had just been slapped. Suddenly all she wanted to do was get out of the new clothes. She felt her hands begin to shake with anger. ""Can I please be excused. I'm very tired and I just want to go to bed."
"Of course, dear. Good Night, honey," Miriam said cheerfully.
"Yeah, Good Night, Olga."
"Helga, Dad. I'm Helga."
"Right. Night, Olga," he said without even looking at her.
Helga did not correct him. She ran straight to the upstairs bathroom and looked at her reflection. She suddenly realized what had been bothering her all day. She looked like Olga. Not exactly, but close enough to make her sick. Helga's eyes filled up with tears. She grabbed the porcelain soap dish and threw it across the bathroom as hard as she could. It broke into thousands of tiny fragments. Helga slid to the floor and cried.
After a few minutes, she stood up and wiped her eyes. "I have to get out." She grabbed her purse from her room and ran downstairs. As she started the car there was only one person she knew could help her right now, and she sped off towards his house under the starry night sky.
A/N: Wow, this chapter was longer then expected. Oh well. I hope you liked it because it took me a long time to write it (I don't know why but I developed a bit of writer's block. Blah.) The good news is that I have started chapter 12 already, so stay tuned. The bad news is that my computer is going away tomorrow because it has problems (I can't get to my email and it is pissing me off!) Anyways, I will be writing freehand so that I can just type it up when my computer returns to me, which shouldn't take too long. Next chapter is "Reconstructing Helga." Later days.