The next day the atmosphere was very tense in the fourth grade class room at PS118. Mr. Simmons, with his bright an breezy outlook, didn't seem to notice however, and blundered on with his lessons regardeless. Phoebe noticed that everyone was giving her a wide berth, and she didn't blame them. Helga had loyally taken up her spot next to her in class, and while she was a little more talkative today, she was still obviously engulfed in her depression. But Helga had to admit, she felt better today, as though her feelings for Arnold were slowly slipping away now she wasn't letting them get to her anymore. She was, however, slightly saddened at how easy it was turning out to be to let him go.
Arnold himself had spent a sleepless night going over what Phoebe had said. People had objected to his sunny dispositon before, he was used to it, and he wasn't willing to change it. But to him it felt like Phoebe hadn't been insulting him for it entirely, she had just felt it was terribley appropriate that day. Arnold had noticed that Helga seemed particually low that day, so maybe Phoebe was mad at him for not adjusting his mood. But what had she meant by that 'dense' remark? He was sitting at the front of the class today, resting his chin is his hands and not being suprised by the lack of spitballs that day.
In fact, no one seemed to be acting like their usual selves. They were all quiet, not used to there being such heavy conflict in their normally friendly group.
It was lunch time, and Phoebe had spent all morning deciding that the cafeteria would be the best place for her to make amends. She would find Arnold, apologise for being so out of order and try to make everything right again. She had realised why she hated him, but everyone had secrets and Phoebe was well aware that this was one best left kept. She stumbled into the lunch queue with Helga, who insisted she was alright but didn't get very much to eat. They located their usual table in the corner and Phoebe scanned the room for Arnold, while Helga picked at her meatloaf with a fork and sighed occasionally.
"I'm just going to go somewhere Helga, I'll be back soon," Phoebe said in her sweet voice. Helga knew that she was off to apologise to Arnold. Helga didn't know why she had exploded at him, it was so out of character for her and Helga was slightly worried. It had really brought her back down to earth, reminded her that things existsed outside of Arnold. It may only have been two days since she had given him up, cold turkey, but she was desperate to move on and start giving a damn about something else for a change. She watched with interest as Phoebe approached Arnold's table.
"Hey, um, Arnold, can I speak to you for a minute please?" She squeaked nervously. Arnold looked up from his sandwich. Part of him wanted to say no, to be as rude to her as she was to him, but he knew it wasn't in his nature. Besides, he wanted to find out what her problem with him had been yesterday.
"Sure," he said coolly.
"Um, in private?"
"Oh, of course," said Arnold, getting to his feet and actually feeling a bit dense. She obviously wanted to apologise, but it would be cruel of him to make her do it in front of everyone. They stepped out into the empty hall and stood by the water fountain pretending to drink, incase any hall monitors happened to chance by.
"Look, I want to say I'm sorry, I was in a bad mood yesterday and I didn't really mean to take it out on you," she said.
"It's ok, but you're sure you don't have, like, some sort of problem with me? I mean, that dense remark was pretty personal."
"No Arnold, it's not like that at all," said Phoebe, stumbling over her words in a vain attempt to try and lie her way out of a sticky situation.
"You sure?" said Arnold, disbelievingly. "It hasn't got anything to do with Helga?"
"What?" Phoebe shrieked, mentally kicking herself for giving away more than she had meant to. Maybe he wasn't so dense after all.
"You know, cause she was so down yesterday and I was being so cheery. Thought maybe you thought I wasn't being sensitive to her or something. Why's she so down anyway?"
"Oh," said Phoebe, sighing in relief, "that. Well, er, I don't really know. You know Helga, she's such a private person." She let out a faint chuckle.
"But she seems really down, not like her at all," Arnold mused.
"And how would you know what she's really like?" Phoebe snapped again, before catching herself. "Sorry Arnold, I guess that bad mood isn't all gone yet."
"It's ok," said Arnold, smiling, "I understand. And you're right, I guess I don't really know what she's like." But as he and Phoebe walked back into the cafeteria, Arnold was determined to find out.
That afternoon Mr. Simmons got started on his new co-operation project. He had decided to make this one his best yet, he was so desperate for the kids to get along perfectly, but his previous attempts had all ended in disaster. With a slight groan he recounted Arnold and Helga's Biosquare project. They may have worked together in the end, but it was apparent from how they behaved in class that the lesson hadn't stuck. Those two were his own personal project, but he would crack them in the end.
The class shuffled in, the tension not so apparent now that the whole class had heard that Phoebe had apologised and Arnold had explained her outburst. Gerald was beginning to warm to her again, having filed her upset under the fact that everybody had bad days. Helga was sitting at the back of the class again, relieved that her beloved Arnold was feeling better once more, but then reminding herself that he wasn't her beloved Arnold anymore.
"Alright class, now, as you all know, I have a very special assignment for you all to start today. I want you to get into pairs, with someone of the opposite gender, and I want you to write a beautiful love story. It can have a happy ending or a sad ending, and can take place whenever you want, with whoever you want. But the important thing is, you must agree on every detail. Just keep going until you find a plot you like. Ok everyone, pair up!"
Gerald immediately made a bee-line for Phoebe, a sure sign that everything was forgiven. Sheena and Eugene predictably ended up together, and Curly begged Rhonda to pair up with him, and was promptly shunned. Helga expected to end up with him instead, but was shocked to her very core when she saw Arnold heading for her instead. She glanced round at Lila, who's cheeks had tinged pink when she saw that nobody had chosen yet. Helga allowed herself a guilty smirk, she was certain that Little Miss Perfect had expected Arnold to be snapping at her heels. It was then that Helga remebered Arnold was aiming for her instead, and she snapped into her mean demeanour.
"Helga?" he said. "Can I pair up with you?"
"Me? Why would you want to team up with me, football head?" she sneered.
"Well, you know, you're really good at writing stories and I'm pretty rubbish," he said with a small laugh.
"I don't doubt it Arnoldo," she barked, and then reprimanded herself. She no longer had to hide her desires behind this smokescreen of ill temper, she was getting over him now, she might as well be nice. "Ok, fine, I'll help you out, you could use it." She scooched over in her chair and made room for him to sit down. While he grabbed a seat, she got out her notebook and her trusty purple pen and began to panic about the situation she had just placed herself in. Here she was, trying to get over Arnold, and she had decided that she would let him spend the next two weeks being her partner as they wrote a soppy love story together. She groaned as he sat down beside her, and slumped her head on the table.
"You ok, Helga?" he asked, looking at the back of her head on the desk.
"Fine," she muttered into her notebook, and then snapped her head up. "Just a headache. Right, let's get started on this thing then," she sighed.
"Ok, do we want a happy ending or a sad ending?" said Arnold.
"Sad ending," said Helga without hesitation. Arnold noticed she seemed to be saying it more to herself than to him.
"Really?" he said, suprised.
"Well, er yeah," said Helga, backtracking, "we're fourth graders, everyone in the class is bound to do a happy ending. Sheena and Eugene don't like anything downbeat, Rhonda's story is bound to be fabulous and all about her, and let's face it, Gerald and Phoebe will want to write the story of them, won't they?"
"That's true, so if we do a sad ending, ours will stand out more?"
"Exactly football head," Helga said, and Arnold couldn't help but notice how fondly she said it.
The class continued to work diligently on their projects while Mr. Simmons sat behind his desk, writing down the names of the pairs so who wouldn't forget who was with who when they continued on their assignments tomorrow. He was delighted to see that Helga and Arnold had chosen to work together without any encouragment from him at all, maybe he was starting to get through to them. The bell rang, and Mr. Simmons dismissed them, telling them he couldn't wait for them to continue with their stories the next day.
"Ever notice how we always seem to work together Helga?" Arnold said as they walked out of the classroom.
"Yeah, I blame Simmons," Helga replied, and laughing they separated to find their best friends.
"You certainly seemed to have cheered up Helga," Phoebe said perkily on the bus home from school that day
"You bet Pheebs, I've decided that I don't want ice cream any more, it doesn't seem to agree with me, but I'm perfectly happy sharing space with it and just being it's friend. Now me and ice cream get along just fine."
"You're sure you still don't want a just a little taste?" Phoebe said, with a hint of naughtiness in her voice. Helga fixed her with a serious stare.
"If I get a taste, I'll want the whole sundae, and that's something I can't have, because the ice cream is always eyeing someone else's spoon. Maybe I'm lactose intolerant," she added. Helga slumped back in her seat, a familiar pang of jealousy shooting through her as she watched Arnold stealing glances at Lila instead of her.
That night, as Helga lay on her bed not writing love poems for the first time she could remember, she realised the thing she really needed to get over Arnold was closure, and she knew just how to get it. She needed to tell him she was over him without him ever knowing she had feelings for him in the first place. She would manipulate their story into a tale of unrequited love that mirrored her own, and that ended with the lovelorn heroine giving up on the man she loved, and the object of her desire never being any the wiser. That would be just perfect.