Valentine's Day II: My Hair Was Down

Special Corner:

Sylvia Silverton: Yes, ma'am! Pops into straight position with salute First reviewer, awesome.

Sonia: What is it with all of these people who want to KILL me? Huh? I'm flattered, but don't you guys know that if I die then no one else is there to type the story? Huh!?

AHHelga: Was that meant as a pun? Your French? Anyways, forgiven, I use enough of that anyway.

Should I even dare bother you guys with the usual talkative-ness? (Readers: NO! throws British tomatoes) Fine! (Readers: It wasn't quick anyway, like you promised!) (Phebga: I know that's right.) Sigh Everyone, say hello to Phebga. She's back in MY introductions, again! (Phebga: Well, HI!) (Readers: All stare expressionless.) (Phebga: … Yo, BB, am I in trouble with these guys?) (Phebga Readers: YOU HAVEN'T UPDATED EITHER!) Ha! Huzzah, I'm not the target anymore! (Phebga Readers: Let's chase her until As Far As I Can is updated!) Yes! (Phebga: runs in terror Briana, save me! Guys, I'm sorry, I've had sports, camps, stiff like that!) (Phebga Readers: We want If You Feel Like Letting Go! BSSEI! Boo-GA!) Oh, God, they have a battle cry? That's just sad. (Phebga: Well, you see, if they like my stuff, they've got to be weird like that.) (Phebga Readers: Boo-GA!) Jaysus! I'd update, if I were you. (Readers: Hey, quit chatting, we came here to read this one! Go away!) That's a brilliant idea. (Readers: This was talkative-ness.) SHADDUP!

Helga turned around and bent forward so her hair fell forward. She lifted her ribbon to her hair and bunched it into two pigtails. She made sure Arnold couldn't see everything she was doing. He was staring at her from behind, excited and impatient, obviously. Helga took a deep breath, flattened her hair as best as she could, and turned around. Please, please don't cause a disaster…

When her face was visible to Arnold, she paid close attention to his reaction. At first Arnold looked shocked. He blinked and squinted his eyes, as if trying to make sure this wasn't an illusion. Once he fully knew it was Helga, Helga G. Pataki, who had been Cecile all night, his jaw dropped. "Heh… Helga?" he asked, voice squeaking.

Helga, who had been holding her breath ever since standing straight, let her chest drop. "You sound surprised," she said quietly. She smiled, trying not to let the bully he knew show too much.

"Well, duh!" Arnold yelled. He bent forward to look at her closer. Bending back, he said, "Have you been Cecile all this time?"

The smile on Helga's face faltered as she nodded her answer. He didn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. It was as plain as day in his body language and tone of voice. She felt like she should walk away now, but she sucked it up. "Is there something wrong?"

Arnold sighed. "Helga, please don't tell me this is a joke."

"It is not a joke, Arnold!" Helga cried. This was what she was afraid of. Denial. "I've been Cecile all night, I was Cecile a year ago, and I've been Cecile this whole time!"

Arnold put a hand to his temple to try to calm down. This was way too much. Hadn't he and Gerald specifically said, known, that Helga was the total opposite of Cecile? At least when it came to how they acted around him, they were. Okay, Cecile was a little temperamental last year, but still! Helga was almost always cruel to him… but then there was the time… she always bullied him…. "You've seriously, truly, been Cecile, all the way, this whole time?" Arnold asked desperately.

"Yes!" Helga yelled. "Arnold, I like you, I have for such a long time! Pretending to be Cecile was the one way I could express that, because there was no way you'd believe me otherwise. Do you not want me to be here Arnold, because I can just go if you don't like this." She wanted him to say no, so she could stay.

"Helga, please, don't act like that," Arnold said. "You just… give me some time, okay? You have to know this is… wow, you are Cecile?"

"Didn't we clarify that?" Helga said, frustrated.

He held up a hand to try and silence her. "Hey, I'm trying to get over it! Please, just give me a second." He blew out his air and turned around, trying to think it through. If Helga had been Cecile and she wasn't just pulling a nasty joke, then that meant that she really did like him like that. But he liked Cecile. Did that mean he liked Helga? Technically it did, but it was too astounding. He looked back at her. She looked prepared for the worst. "Helga, why did you do this?"

She lifted her hands to her face and pushed them together, down her face to her chin. "I already told you why, Arnold," she moaned. "Yes, I like you. Yes, I have liked you since before last Valentine's Day. The only two differences from the Valentine's Days are that I haven't had to be a bully and my hair was down." She stopped and looked up at Arnold awkwardly, hanging her head slightly. "There's only one question now that I really care about."

Arnold's head straightened as he realized what the question was exactly. "Oh." He had to think about that one. True, he did admit to himself long ago that he really liked Cecile, no matter who she was. But he wasn't really expecting Helga to be Cecile! This meant he really liked Helga like… that. He almost couldn't get his brain around it, but when he did, it was hard to stomach. Basically his whole body was having trouble registering the fact that he liked Helga and Helga liked him. "Helga, I… I…." He moaned and sat down on a bench near by. He hung his head between his legs and ran a hand over his head. "This is weird. I mean, Helga, how am I supposed to believe this easily? The way you usually act is, like, the total opposite of earlier!"

Helga looked down at him solemnly, her arms crossed and putting her weight to one side. "I know that," she said. "Why do you think I had to be Cecile to act like that towards you? You wouldn't believe it."

Arnold gaped at her. What was he supposed to say? He couldn't totally dismiss her after how comfortable he was around her minutes before. He hadn't ever been able to act like that around a girl, know when she was joking and when she was serious, able to give and take comments about anything, and just a whole lot of other stuff, until tonight.

"I get it if you think it impossible," Helga said, turning her head to the side. "Just hear me out for a second. I've liked you for years. Seriously, I have, since about as far back as I can remember! Years ago I thought that if I acted like I hated you no one would know the better, especially you. That's why I've been the tough bully, because I don't want anyone to mess with me about you. Come to think of it, I don't want them to mess with me about anything, but especially you." She took a moment to look at Arnold, who was now listening intently. She gulped and continued. "Last year Cecile was me trying to just spend a night with you. I tried to impress you, but I never thought you'd look for me again this year. Well, I hoped, but didn't think you would. Tonight was even more me than last Valentine's Day. So… what do you say?" Smiling as well as she could, she held her arms out in wait.

This was seriously wrong. A huge part of Arnold's brain wanted to wake up. The other part told him that he did like her, and a lot. But it was Helga! Helga liked him… he had to stop repeating his thoughts. The facts were Helga liked him and he liked Helga, but he didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to dwell too long on those facts anymore.

"Arnold. Can you say?"

Yes! Yes, it was true, he knew it, but how on earth could he… it was just too strange… it was Helga! No matter what he thought about the past night, about how he'd really started to like-like Cecile and care for her, something in him always screamed, "No! It's Helga!" It made no sense, though…

He looked up at the Helga he now saw. Her eyes were pleading but determined, as if no matter what, she would be hurt, but she'd find some way to recover… somehow.

Did she really think he'd hurt her? It made no sense!

Since when did anything make perfect sense? It doesn't make any sense.

Look at tonight! It's not Cecile! It's Helga!

There is no Cecile.

"Helga Pataki," he started, leaning forward, one elbow on his knee, "you are the slyest, sneakiest, most resourceful, conniving girl I have ever met for pulling something like that off."

Helga didn't know whether to be confused, stunned, or flattered. She lifted her brow, not knowing exactly what was going on, but having a fleeting feeling. "What?" she asked.

"You pulled it off." He laughed to himself. "I had no idea that it was you this whole time! And now that I do know, it doesn't matter."

Time stopped for Helga. Her lungs quit functioning, and she didn't blink for what seemed like an eternity. Arnold was smiling and it wasn't a sorry smile. The only words Helga could choke out were, "Does that mean…?"

"Do you really think that I'm the kind of guy who would ditch you after finding out the only thing fake was before now?" Arnold asked. He blinked, trying to make clearer sense of his own words. It only took two seconds.

Helga broke out into a grin and leaned her head back. She stepped back with her arms out open blissfully. "Yes," she choked out. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…." She spun around and squealed quietly. Arnold like-liked her. Arnold liked HER, knowing who SHE was. It was almost too good to be true.

"Uh, Helga?"

"Huh?" Helga snapped back into reality and looked at Arnold, who was starting to get worried. "Oh," she said, embarrassed. How could she forget he was there? "Sorry."

A heavy silence fell around them for a moment. Finally, Helga got the guts to finally ask.

"So… are we…?"

"Yeah, I guess…."

"I can't believe…."

"Me, too…."

"What on earth…."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "What just happened?" Helga asked, doubling over.

"I don't know!" Arnold was leaning on the bench for support. "I think we just…."

"Did we?" Helga asked, still seeming shocked. "Wow, this is so weird."

"You think it's weird?" Arnold asked wildly. "I'm still wondering about the past seven years of my life with you!"

"Yeah, well, it's still pretty crazy!" Helga looked behind her for the sake of it and exhaled audibly. "Wow, this is hard to get over, isn't it?"

Arnold leaned his head to one side, staring at Helga's head. Helga looked back at him and asked, "What? What is it?"

Arnold pointed to Helga's hair almost as innocently as a young child. "That ribbon… why do you wear it? You know you really do look good with your hair down."

"Oh, gee," Helga said sarcastically. She was happy all the same. "I wonder if he just said I didn't look good right now?"

"No, I didn't mean that!" Arnold said quickly, trying to correct himself. "I just want to know. You look older without the ribbon."

Helga bit her tongue slightly, wondering if she should tell him. She looked off into the distance, about to tell him, when he eyes almost popped out of her head. "Good-idea-taking-it-off-hide-me!" She whipped the ribbon off her head as fast as possible and shook her hair, trying to bring the curls back to the original state.

"What's wrong?" Arnold asked, before he heard someone call out.

"Arnold! Hey, Arnold! Wow, what a coincidence, huh?"

"Oh, no…"

"It's Gerald!" Helga hissed angrily. "What's he doing here?" She turned around quickly so her back was to him, only sneaking a peak over her shoulder. "Oh, yeah."

Arnold nodded hurriedly. "Yeah, he's with Phoebe. The dance must be over."

"Already? What time is it, anyway?" Helga shook her head and slapped herself. "What am I saying? Arnold, stall! He's not supposed to know!"

Gerald was running down the path to them, waving his arms excitedly. For a moment Phoebe looked confused, but then her eyes widened in realization. She ran after Gerald and grabbed his sleeve, using all of her strength to hold him back. Arnold couldn't hear them, but he was too far away to hear them. When they got into hearing range, he could hear Phoebe desperately trying to convince him to leave them alone. "Come on, Gerald! We're interrupting! It's unethical," she panted as he pulled out of her grip, shrugging an apology and walking the rest of the way to the pair.

"Hey!" he said happily, reaching Arnold. Helga was still a few feet back, pretending to be fiddling with a loose hem on the ribbons on her arm. Her hair had returned to half-hearted waves.

"Uh… hi, Gerald," Arnold said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "You… remember Cecile, right?"

Gerald nodded and turned to the hidden Helga, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Arnold?" he asked. He leaned forward and whispered, "Is she okay? She looks jumpy."

Finally Phoebe caught up to them, looking very frightened for Helga. She looked up at Arnold warily, as if testing him. When he realized she wanted to know if Helga had revealed herself, he thinned his lips and returned the worried look. Helga didn't want Gerald to know who she was yet. Arnold couldn't tell, but now that her hair was almost straight again, would he know? He didn't want to risk it.

"Gerald," Phoebe said quietly, pleadingly. "We have to go back. Its getting late and Rhonda invited us to her after party, remember?"

"Come on Phoebe," he replied, "I just want to meet the mystery girl."

"You know," said a voice behind them. Helga still faced the opposite way, but Arnold could imagine the look on her face. "Maybe you should listen to her. You don't want to miss Rhonda's parties. They're usually so great." It may have been Arnold's imagination, but he thought the last part came through gritted teeth.

Gerald looked at Helga's back sideways. "Why are you British now?" He took a step forward to her, trying to see the front of her face.

"Because she needed a new accent," Arnold answered quickly. He gripped Gerald's shoulders and tried to pull him back. If he couldn't, hopefully Gerald would get the hint that he'd find out later. It took her long enough to be able to tell him. There was no way she could be ready to let someone else know in one night.

Shaking himself away from Arnold's grip, Gerald bounded forward and turned to face Phoebe and Arnold. "What's your deal, guys?" he asked. "I'm just curious."

"No, seriously!" Helga exclaimed, taking a step forward and turning her face to the right. "They're helping, not hurting."

Gerald jumped to Helga's left, and she turned her whole body right. He bent around her, trying to glimpse her face. The sequence went on for a while as Arnold tried to pull on Gerald's arm to get him away. Phoebe just looked on, telling Gerald she wanted to go to Rhonda's now. Helga, still holding up her accent, was saying mild threats to him. Finally, Helga stumbled and Gerald had extra time to look at her. He peered for a moment. "Hey, Cecile. Remember me?" he said. "You saw me…" He stopped and squinted his eyes again. Helga turned quickly to Arnold, knowing the jig was up. Gerald's jaw dropped and he took a step back, taking in the whole picture. Arnold's face fell into his hands and Phoebe bit her lip, looking away.

"Oh my God," Gerald said. He was even more stunned than Helga had been only minutes ago. "Helga! Helga is Cecile?" He said to Arnold, "This is Cecile, right?"

Helga bit her lip and preoccupied herself by inspecting a daisy. This was seriously not what she wanted to happen. Of course, he was going to find out tomorrow anyway. At Gerald Field. Helga gasped. She had totally forgotten about the deal she and Arnold had made. Did Arnold forget, too? If he remembered, would he want to do it?

"No," Arnold said. Just as Gerald began to sigh in relief, he added, "This is Helga. About ten minutes ago, Cecile ceased to exist."

Let's see how he'll take this, Helga thought with malevolence. She knew it wouldn't be taken well at all.

"WHAT?" Gerald screamed. He pointed accusingly at Helga and said, "Arnold, this is Helga! You just went on a date with Helga! Again! Who knows what you did when you thought she was Cecile. Are you fully getting what's going on here?"

Arnold nodded.

"You realize this is Helga G. Pataki, your tormentor and harasser, who has never shown any mercy on any of our fellow students."

"I resent that!" Helga said boldly. Then it seemed to occur to her again the situation, and her boldness left her quickly. "I show mercy to him sometimes," she mumbled, "and a whole lot to Phoebe."

"Whatever. Arnold." Gerald walked up to him and leaned down a bit so they were eye to eye. "You don't actually believe this is true, do you? That Helga could possibly be as compassionate and nice as Cecile?"

Finally, after being so quiet for so long, Phoebe let her voice be heard. "Gerald, don't act like this," she said. She walked over to the two of them and poked Gerald with her gloved hand. "You rarely talk to Helga as I do, and if I may say, you're not one to judge how she can act. This is a personal matter. One we should not be interrupting, so if you don't mind, I'd really like to go to Rhonda's house now." She gave a try at another helpless tug at Gerald's suit's sleeve, put he pulled away.

"Phoebe, I'm sorry, but you just wait, okay?" he said. He returned his attention to Arnold, who was looking bored already. "Arnold, you liked Cecile. But you can't possibly like Helga!" Arnold gave Gerald a look that clearly said And-why-not? Gerald's jaw dropped almost as far as it did when he found out who Cecile was. "You don't, do you?"

Arnold smiled mischievously. "And what if I did?"

Quickly Gerald jumped back as if he just heard Arnold was contaminated with a deadly disease. He flailed his arms out and his shoulders shivered. "You did not just say that," he said trying to convince himself. "You did not just say that."

"Oh, please, Geraldo, get a grip," Helga said. She walked impatiently over to stand next to Arnold. She looked at Gerald with the same bored look. She really didn't need him making a scene. There was enough of one going on in her head. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe Cecile isn't just a made up character, that maybe, just possibly, and itsy bit," she held up her index finger and thumb about a centimeter or two from each other, "Cecile could really be me?"

Gerald didn't say anything. He just stared at the two of them for a moment, bewildered. At last he said, "Phoebe? Why don't we go to Rhonda's party?"

"You won't say anything at all, will you Gerald?" Helga said the threat brightly.

"I won't have to. They'll find out soon enough," he mumbled, taking Phoebe's hand in his and starting to walk away grouchily. Phoebe looked over her shoulder and gave an encouraging smile to Helga. Then she looked at Arnold and winked. They disappeared over the hill.

Arnold sighed and fell back onto the bench, wiping his forehead. He then started laughing quietly. Helga sat next to him and looked at him like he was the oddest person on earth. "What are you doing?"

"That was close!" he said. He leaned forward and rested on his knees again. "Very, very close. That's about how I figured Gerald acting when I told him." He laughed again. "Man, how are we supposed to let everyone know that… you know."

Helga smiled meekly and laughed too. "Don't know," she said, though in her mind the answer was already there. She had to say it, just had to. "Arnold, don't you remember?"

"Remember what, exactly?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "The deal I made with you. The other day on the playground."

Arnold backtracked through his memories until he found it. Helga had given him money for his date, the one he thought she wouldn't be attending, in exchange for her seeing them kiss at Gerald Field. Except know she wouldn't be seeing it. Everyone else would be. It all became clear exactly why she gave him the money. She liked him so much she wanted him to kiss her publicly. He felt like he could've slapped his face for forgetting it. "Helga, you little sneak!" he said accusingly. He threw his arms up and stood from the bench. "You had quite a plan for tonight, didn't you."

"Yeah, and I can see you really like it," Helga mumbled with bitter sarcasm, resting an elbow on the armrest and looking away.

Arnold shook his head and laughed. "You know, this whole thing really is crazy."

Helga looked up surprised. It wasn't the first time that night. "Okay," she said slowly, wondering why he was laughing. "Look, if you want to break the deal, it doesn't-"

"Helga, a deal's a deal," he said, smiling again. "Can't change it, so I might as well live with it."

She squealed and bounced in her seat. "That's wonderful!" Then she caught herself from skipping blissfully and corrected her expression. No insane happiness, she reminded herself. "I mean, you know, that's…"

"Wonderful?" Arnold offered.

"Yes!" Helga said. She sprang up and twirled around once more, one foot lifted and flying as she turned. She giggled softly and turned to Arnold. Her mood changed drastically. "Why, though?"

"Huh?" Why? What was she asking why for?

"Why are you taking to this so easy?" Helga asked. Arnold had gone through everything so quickly. He already seemed used to the fact that Helga was Cecile when just before he said he didn't care he was completely freaked out. "It went by so quickly. You've barely asked me any questions except for why I did it. It can't be that simple. It just can't."

"Why not?" Arnold asked. "Is it wrong that I accepted it already?"

"No! Not even." Helga moaned and kicked at the dirt frustrated. "I like that you still like me. But really, aren't you still wondering about the way I've treated you? Like Gerald said, I've been on tough person on you."

"Yeah, you could say that," Arnold said under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear. She glared half-heartedly, but was still expecting an answer. "Okay, so, I guess that you already kind of explained that one, didn't you? It was because you liked me that you did it. So why did you even ask me that question?"

She hesitated. "I don't know," she said. "I guess this is still too good for me to believe easily."

Arnold sighed. He could definitely relate to that. Tomorrow he had to publicly kiss Helga. For fifty bucks and a date. Great, now his head was spinning again.

"Can I practice?" he asked her, almost shyly.

Helga gave him an odd look. She was confused. "That seems a bit random, you know. Practice what?"

He could feel the heat begin to rise to his cheekbones. "For tomorrow."

Helga's stomach did a somersault. Not for the first time that night. Unless she was mistaken, she could see a vicious blush forming on Arnold's face. "Oh." She had to fight to keep her balance. "Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah."

The next thing either of them knew their faces were a few inches from each other. Helga was struggling to hold her consciousness. This would be a horrible time to faint.

It wasn't the moonlit boat ride on a crystal clear lake Helga always wanted their first kiss to be like. It wasn't long and passionate, and it didn't melt away into a few more kisses. The looming thought that he just wanted to get used to it before the next day, which wasn't at all likely, wasn't a part of the daydream either. But for the second that it happened, Helga knew it blew all of her imaginative, romantic dreams out of the water. It did for Arnold, too.

(Readers: Gasp!) Oh, not this routine again. Look, the freaking story was 3,964 words, and 17,808 characters long! Not counting the author's notes. (Readers: It was only that short?) You know, I think I just give up. (Screaming comes from off stage. Brunette runs across the stage, blue sugar covering her mouth, screaming wildly and stumbling over props. Behind her, a group of geeky teenagers, with nothing better to do, follow, chanting their battle cry.) Stares oddly, blinks, and looks back at screen Oh, well! Until next time, friends! (Readers: First you leave us at the time they get picked up. Then we're stranded at the time of revelation. And then the kissing scene?) I know. I'm getting good at these cliffhangers, huh? (Real Readers: Actually, very few of us are saying these things like they're scripted. And I'm sure that none of Phebga's fans are ever saying boo-ga. Please stop with your little scenes and proceed with the writing of the next chapter.) (Phebga: And since when do any of the dorks on this site talk all professionally like that, huh? Tell me THAT!) (Phebga's Readers: Besides, it's Boo-GA! Don't tamper the caps, chief.) Taps foot impatiently (Phebga: Steeling the spotlight again?) We had a talk about this little stunt, didn't we? (Readers: SHUT UP AND LET ME REVIEW!) My pleasure! Only 60-some of these words are mine, anyway. (Phebga: Don't get happy with the word count button, okay?) lifts eyebrow at blue sugar on her mouth Yeah. You should talk.

Briana Loves Foot Ball Head (Thinking of changing the name, what do you think?)