"Well now don't you look familiar. That face is just, Arnold, is she one of your school friends or something?" Phil, Arnold's grandfather asked, squinting while scrutinizing Helga.
All Helga could do was fidget. She nervously twirled her pen, while a sudden itch in her left and right ankles had her rubbing her legs together. She'd been left with no words, and still hadn't said anything, too nervous to even think straight.
"Helga?" she heard Arnold repeat, taking her out of her reverie.
Feeling like an idiot for having Arnold still affect like that, she stood up straight and decided that pretending they were just like any other customers would have to do. She could hyperventilate in the back, later.
"H-hey Arnold. How are you?" she asked, clearing her throat and wishing she had some water with her.
"Great, actually. And you?" he responded, as he leaned back into the booth and casually draped his arm across the seat.
"Uh, well, working, as you can see. Now, what can I get for you both?" She decided to cut the chit-chat, as Arnold and her had never been close friends, and she realized she didn't want to hear about all of his grand adventures anyway. At the moment, she wanted to run out of the restaurant, screaming and cursing the world for having Arnold show up when she surely looked a mess. This wasn't how she'd planned it out.
Having taken their orders, she excused herself, promising their drinks in a few minutes. As she was walking away she heard Phil yell "OH! That ugly little girl! Didn't she used to have a unibrow?" and break out in to a giggle. Helga's eyes watered, and she decided to make a quick stop at the bathroom, to calm herself down.
She walked into the ladies restroom and wanted to lock herself in one of the stalls while cursing faith for being such a dreadful bitch, but decided splashing cold water on her face would have to do. After all, she had customers waiting and only an hour of work left; crying in a stall would not benefit her in the slightest. She tried to talk herself into completing the shift, telling herself that she would be fine, that it didn't matter, but in the back of her mind, she didn't know who she was trying to fool. Arnold was back and so were all the gawddamn feelings.
She tried to even out her breathing, and checked herself in the mirror. She looked a fright, of course. The smallest bit of mascara she'd had on had rubbed off on her cheeks and hands, while her eyes had a pink tint to them, which made her seem like she'd been crying or high. She wiped her eyes clean and applied three coats of mascara, while trying to cover up that pimple which had conveniently decided to appear today. She fiddled in her pocket and found a tube of pale pink lipstick, which she decided to lightly run over her dry lips. She couldn't do anything about her eyes, but she could do something about her hair, which was sticking out of her bun at weird angles, making her look sloppy. After readjusting her hairstyle, checking her makeup and unbuttoning two buttons of her shirt, she decided she was ready. She might as well face him now, give him his drinks, his order, and run out of the restaurant. She walked out of the restroom with her head held high and went to the soda fountain to fill up two glasses of Coke and Dr. Pepper for Arnold and her grandfather.
"Excuse me, miss?" a customer questioned, waving his arm around to call her attention. Helga looked up and realized this particular fellow had ordered another soda a few minutes before Arnold had come into the restaurant.
Youre a champ, Helga. Come on, pull it together! Arnold or no Arnold, you need to get on the ball!