Valentine's Day II: My Hair Is Down

I KNOW Demile Pythia Ashford, okay? I KNOW! I'm such a dumb donkey for not updating this story! I bet all of you agree with her, hmm? "I'll see where I can fit it in" I told you. That sounded so corny when I reread that email! I also realized that Jenna is incredibly corny, too. I invented her because we had a German exchange student, but I never heard her talk. Oh, yeah, and I'd really like to see a restaurant named Chew Paris someday. Ha. Ha. Anyway, here it is guys: the next lovely chapter of V-Day II.

Disclaimer: I hate these. I just do, you know? I disclaim this. Okay, done, moving on!

"Arnold, do have a really bad itch, or are you going Curly on me?"

"Shut up, Gerald," Arnold said, rubbing his arm impatiently. "You know very well what today is."

Gerald laughed and slapped his best friend on the back. "Of course I do, Arnold. You wouldn't stop talking about it yesterday and I expect no change today. It's the oh-so-awaited for Valentine's Day."

I know that's right, thought Arnold, looking around the bus, desperate to get the day started and ended as quickly as possible. He had a major case of the butterflies. He and his little search had been the most talked about thing in school this past week, and today he knew it'd all be compiled together into one seeping mass of gossip and rumors, headed by the sleuthing Rhonda and her posse. His eyes began to hurt at the searching of every detail on every female student on the bus, looking for a sign of nervousness close to his, for any feature that would remind him of Cecile. It was a backbreaking obsession he'd gained over the week. This so could not be healthy for him.

"Arnold," hissed Gerald. "I'm going to move seats now." The bus stopped moving and Gerald stood up.

Arnold looked at him inquisitively. "Why are you moving?" He was answered by a nod of Gerald's head in the direction of the open door. Up popped little, black haired Phoebe. Arnold smiled and hit Gerald on the shoulder. "Go get her, tiger."

Gerald just winked in reply and met Phoebe in the aisle, smiling his suave girl-getter smile and starting a conversation with her. Arnold couldn't help but laugh. Gerald sure was better at this lady thing than he was.

As soon as Gerald's hair moved out of the way, he could see Helga, who was rolling her eyes and shaking her head in annoyance at the sight of Gerald taking her usual spot next to Phoebe. He saw he eyes scan the bus and then landing, with a surprised look, on the seat next to Arnold.

It was the last spot left on the seat.

Great, just what I need to begin my day. Please don't mess with me, please, he silently urged her as she sat down and looked at him, smiling a way too big smile with way too round eyes. "Hi, Arnold," she said in mock cheeriness. "Lovely day, isn't it? I'm sure it'll be a lovely night, too, hmm?"

Arnold lifted his eyebrow at Helga, silently asking her to stop talking. But she didn't.

"We're playing baseball at Gerald Field tomorrow, right?" she asked him with polite interest. Arnold knew it wasn't as it sounded. She was reminding him of the deal he'd made without breaking the rules.

Arnold nodded. "Yeah, we are. Should be a good game." Then, trying to change the subject, he said, "Helga, are you going to the dance tonight? Phoebe and Gerald are, and so are Harold and Patty, Peapod Kid and Nadine, Lorenzo and Rhonda, Lila and Stinky, Eugene and Sheena. You got a date or are you just going to go for the fling?"

Helga raised her eyebrows and looked at Arnold, then rolled her eyes and snorted. "Like I'd go to a dumb dance for Valentine's Day," she said, saying the holiday's name in a song-song voice. "Besides, I've got other plans."

"Really?" Arnold turned slightly in his seat. "What are they?"

Helga shrugged, pretending it was no big deal. I love it when he believes every lie I say. "Treating myself to dinner, maybe a walk in the park…" She trailed off for a moment, daydreaming. But the second's slip-up was recovered quickly. "I'm not into the whole Valentine thing; you should know that by now, Football Head."

"Yeah," Arnold replied. He turned his head and looked out the window until they reached school.

!#$%&(){}:"?

Once they entered the school, they saw the new heads of the school newspaper running around, holding up copies, and handing them to people. Rhonda walked up to one of them and took a copy. Walking back to Nadine and Lila, she immediately opened it to a certain page, thirsted it in front of their eyes, and said, "There you are, read that. Tell me how you like it."

Nadine looked up from the paper and eyed Rhonda. "You know, I'm beginning to wonder if it's possible that you're taking this a little too far."

"Oh, nonsense, Nadine," Lila said. "It's just an interesting topic. I'm sure Rhonda's findings will entertain their readers."

"Do you like the title?" Rhonda asked eagerly. "'Looking for Love: the Arnold-Cecile Story'. Okay, so it could've been better, but-"

"You listed me as a suspect!" Nadine cried, pointing to her name in the article. "You know that I'm not Cecile, what's that about, huh?"

Rhonda shook her head slowly, smiling. "Nadine, Nadine, Nadine, come on, you know the First Amendment: Freedom of the press. Especially is it makes it interesting. This whole thing was a hot topic for the entire week, now it's sizzling!" She took the paper back greedily and read her article with a smile on her face. "Besides, I didn't just pin you down; I gave you the least credit of all. Every single blond person who was in our school last year, and, you know, that sixth grader Connie, who I heard went out with Gerald once, those two people in the sixth grade this year, Helga… Oh, yeah, and that Kylie person in fourth grade."

Lila bit her lip. "You included Helga? Don't you think that… well, isn't that a little out there?" Of course she had a very, very good idea of who Cecile really was, but she would never tell, for fear of her neck. She had very grotesque ideas of what the result would be if she told.

"No one is excluded in my research until we are finally told who this Cecile is," Rhonda said. "Including Helga."

"What about me?"

Rhonda flipped around quickly to see Helga standing behind her, arms crossed in expectation. "Well? What about me?"

Rhonda tried to smile as she handed Helga the paper. "I made you famous. Well, obviously not as famous as any of the other people in there, because you're definitely the least expected, but…"

Helga's eyes narrowed as she scanned the article, finally resting on the paragraph about her. She threw the paper at Rhonda and exclaimed, "What the heck is that about, Princess? Didn't I tell you I'm not that freak Cecile girl? When are you going to cut the crap, huh?"

Nadine looked like she was about to add something, then decided not to.

"You're not special, Helga," Rhonda snarled. "No one thinks it's you, anyway. Didn't you read the part about how unlikely it'd be that you were this Cecile person?"

Oh, how wrong you are, Helga thought deviously. "You're absolutely right. But if anyone bugs me today, thinking I'm Cecile, I'm blaming it on you." She glared, then said, "Happy Valentines Day."

And with that she stormed off.

"You know, Rhonda, the same goes for me," Nadine said after Helga had left. "If I get bothered, it's your fault."

"How can you say that?" Rhonda asked, shocked that her best friend would agree with Helga. "It's just a stupid article! I have to write this stuff, it's the gossip column!"

Lila nodded in agreement. "Rhonda's sorry that you're offended, Nadine," Lila said brightly. "As soon as tomorrow comes, I'm just ever so certain that you're name will be cleared. This won't last."

Nadine was still annoyed, but she decided not to linger on it. This was Rhonda, after all, her best friend; no matter how disturbed she was thinking of everyone's reactions after the school read the paper. "Yeah, okay, then."

The bell rang, and everyone went to class.

!#$%&(){}:"?

"Okay, class, we all know what day it is. It's Valentine's Day, the glorious day of caring and friendship and love. You all have your cards, and the bags you made in art the other day are on your desk. So, start handing out your cards, now."

As soon as the words escaped Mr. Packenham's mouth, the whole class stood to pass along their cards.

Arnold walked around the room, sticking his handmade Valentine cards into the appropriate bags. Gerald, Sid, Stinky, Nadine, Lila (he erased the old message and wrote a new one the night before), Brainy, Helga, Harold, Peapod Kid, Lorenzo, Eugene, Sheena. He reached his own bag and dumped out the contents, searching through them, reading the cards. There was a Pop Daddy one from Gerald, a computer themed one from Phoebe, a wrestling one from Helga, a card with frog stickers all over from Sid, a card with a teddy bear from Lila, a Crocodile Hunter card from Harold, and plenty of candy.

He was about to pack the cards back into his bag when his eyes rested on a card he hadn't seen until then. He ripped the sticker off of it and read in fancy, cursive handwriting:

See you at Chez Paris tonight, Arnold.

Love,

Cecile.

Arnold reread the Valentine, and then searched over the classroom. That was it. Cecile was somewhere in this class, or someone knew who she was and delivered it for her. Chances were it was the first one. But he didn't see anyone it could possibly be.

Once again his thoughts drifted to Helga, but he shook it out of his mind. No way would it be her. (Readers: Aww…) But maybe Gerald was right and she knew Cecile, who she was. He'd have to ask.

He got up from his desk and walked over to Gerald's. He placed the card he'd gotten from Cecile on his desk. He stared down on it for a moment, looked up at Arnold, and said, "Arnold, buddy, you already gave me one of these. Did you forget?"

Arnold gave him an annoyed look. "Open it," he said, exasperated.

Gerald opened it and his eyes skimmed over the note. Then, just as Arnold did, he looked around the room. "Is she in here?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," replied Arnold. "No one in here looks like her. The only person who looks anything like her is either Jenna or Helga, and we both know how impossible those two are. I think Helga really does know who Cecile is, though."

Gerald was fingering a rather large Valentine card, but he couldn't see anything on it. Arnold gazed pointedly at it and Gerald snatched it and stuffed it in his bag. "What?" he asked.

"Let me see that," Arnold said. "I know what it is."

"It's just another Valentine!"

"You seem to really like that Valentine," Arnold replied, trying to snatch the bag, but Gerald was blocking his way. "Give it to me!" He laughed.

"No!" Finally, the bag was taken from Gerald's hand. But it wasn't by Arnold's tan hand. It was a pale hand that took it.

"Here you go, Football Head," Helga said, tossing it to Arnold, who quickly shifted through the bag and took the Valentine out.

"You got to read mine, so I get to read yours." Then he fully took in the scene and stared at Helga.

Gerald was glaring at her with an intense anger, but Helga was just looking at Arnold smiling. "Go ahead and read it before Gerald gets his senses back." He then looked around briefly to see half of the class silently observing the scene.

Arnold took her advice and read the card quickly. Then he smiled, stuck it back in the bag, and handed it to Gerald. "See, the world didn't end, did it?" Now Gerald's eyes were switching from him to Helga, confused. Arnold would've thought this was funny if he wasn't confused about Helga, too.

Helga glared at them both and said, "What? Am I suddenly a zoo animal because I want to know what the thing says, too? You have to tell me, now, I helped." She looked at Arnold, expectantly.

"That's kind of why we're staring," Gerald said.

Phoebe grabbed Helga's arm at the elbow, suddenly, and gave her an angry look. Then, before she could react, Helga was being pulled over to Phoebe's desk and being talked to sternly. "Why did you have to do that, and right after I told you what I did, what was that about?"

Helga pulled her arm back and replied sternly, "Oh, like he wouldn't tell him in time, anyway."

"You didn't have to go and grab the attention of the class!"

"They're all too busy talking about that crackpot Cecile, see, they're already talking about it!"

They both turned to a group beside them and heard them reading the school paper together, looking around the class at those who were suspected to be her.

"Oh," Helga growled, "I swear, I'm going to kill Rhonda."

Soon after, Mr. Simmons called for the class to settle down for the day's lesson: Roman mythology.

!#$%&(){}:"?

Helga closed her eyes, took a deep breath. "Oh, Arnold, I'm so happy!" she sighed. "Finally, my Cupid has looked for the one he so unknowingly wounded with his poison tipped arrow!" She stopped talking, looked at herself hard and long in the mirror she was looking in, and said, "You know, I think I'm just going to get ready now."

Next to the mirror hung her dress, and below it sat the package her jewelry came in, her shoes, a hair curler, and the old shoe. She slipped into her dress and shoes and walked into the bathroom, with her hair curler and make up in tow. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail and stared at herself.

"I need to call Phoebe," she finally said, and went back into her room to change.

After dressing into her normal clothes, and making sure she'd have enough time to go to her friend's house and be prepared for an explanation if need be. She went to her phone and dialed Phoebe's number. When she answered, it was surprising.

"Gerald?"

Helga was so surprised, and in a way, revolted, that she didn't speak for a while. Finally, when the words could come out, she said, "Phoebe… all I can say is that you really do not need an ice cream, if you follow."

She could practically feel Phoebe blushing from blocks away. "Oh, hello, Helga. I apologize. What is it you want?"

"Can I go to your house so you can help me? Please, I am incredibly clueless on this kind of thing, and last time I tried, I got way too carried away." She shivered at the memory of the cotton balls.

"Why, of course, Helga!" Phoebe sounded ecstatic. "But you have to help me prepare for the dance, too, okay?"

Helga bit her tongue with her molar. "Uh, yeah, Pheebs? About that… I'm not going."

There was a pause where she could tell Phoebe was trying to work out what she'd said. "Then… why do you want me to help you get ready in the clothes you were supposed to wear to the dance?"

She sucked in her breath and said, "Phoebe… oh, man, whatever," she said, dropping the suspense. "Who did you think Cecile was, anyway?"

Phoebe squealed. "Oh, I knew it, I knew it all along! This is so exciting!"

"Yeah, Phoebe, you're a genius, and that I've ALWAYS known," Helga replied sarcastically.

"Well, then, Helga, get you're butt over here this instant! I have to help you now!"

Helga sighed in relief. "Thanks, Pheebs, you're a lifesaver. I don't know what I'd do without you!"

"I'll see you soon, Helga." With that, she hung up, and Helga gathered her things, ran downstairs past her parents grinning at each other and sipping champagne, and down to the sidewalk. Oh, yeah. It's definitely Valentine's Day is THAT'S happening…

!#$%&(){}:"?

He adjusted his tie, fixed his shirt, and tried the fix his hat so that it looked just right. Arnold looked at his reflection and, when satisfied, sat down and fingered the shoe that was on his desk. He looked at the clock for the third time in the last minute, and saw, yet again, he had five minutes before Cecile was going to be there.

He had written his pen pal, the real Cecile, recently, and explained everything that had happened last year. She thought it was profusely funny, that someone would like him so much that they would stoop to impersonation to spend a date with me. After he heard her thoughts on it, he found it funny, too.

Cecile. It didn't seem to work anymore, did it, calling the person he was about to meet by that name. He was hurt that he hadn't been trusted with her true name, but afterwards, accepted her insecurity. But still, he knew he'd have to spend at least most of the date calling her Cecile.

He had a major case of the butterflies yet again that day, and at a certain moment walked into the bathroom, prepared to retch until they had calmed considerably. Every time he looked at the clock they grew worse and worse.

The hallway had no clocks.

Arnold grabbed the shoe and headed down into the hallway. Ernie was walking towards his room, and when he spotted Arnold, he grinned. Arnold knew very well what was about to come…

"Hey, Arnold! I hear you've got a hot date with a nice girl tonight."

Arnold smiled, embarrassed. "Yeah? Have you also heard I have no idea which girl it is I'm being paired with?"

"Yeah, I heard that," he said, stopping his walk next to Arnold, looking up at him with an almost proud look. "Little man's about to be a big man."

What else was he supposed to do except smile with a gratified look. "Ernie, I'm only ten. I haven't even fully hit puberty."

Ernie shook his head. "Ah, ah, correction! You're ten-going-one-eleven. You're birthday is next month." (Right? It's too late to do research, man, it's in March, right?)

Suddenly, Arnold's Grandma appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a ceremonial eighteenth century style ballroom gown. "You're Duchess awaits, good sir," she said, bowing stylishly. From below them, his Grandpa called, "You're date's here, Arnold! Don't eat the berries in the salad, you never know what kind they are!"

Arnold smiled and swallowed the spit that'd accumulated in his mouth. "Thanks Grandma," he said, and, carrying the shoe in his right hand, made his way past the adults and into the doorway, where, at the bottom of the stoop, stood a girl his age with golden hair, curved with expertise so that it covered up a total of two-thirds of her face, a red dress that went halfway down her shins, ribbons tied in zig-zag forms on her forearms, and a red rhinestone necklace. Her hands were behind her back, and she looked up to him, smiled, and said, "Hey. Are you ready?"

Am I cruel? I SWEAR almost the entire date will be covered in the next chapter, no matter how long I must make it!

On a different note, if you've read through my story Explanations, you know that I have been at a dead end with it. If you read Through the Compact Disc when it was just recently updated and reviewed, you don't have to go through this again. Tell me how you want the next chapter of Explanations to go, please? So I can get started? I NEED to it's been itching at me forever! Choose from the following, just stick a letter in ur review, and be happily on you're way!

A. Rhonda and Harold are on the phone discussing Helga and Arnold's budding relationship.

B. Arnold and Gerald are talking about Arnold's complex feelings in the issue (Trust me, there are some).

C. Helga brooding about the kids at school and daydreaming about Arnold.

D. Gerald, Phoebe, Lila, and Sid talking about what's going on and their different clashes.

Remember, this is only the beginning for the chapter.

Thanks a lot!

-BrianaLFBH