None of these characters are mine, darnit! Craig Bartlett should be proud of his creation.
2 Sittin' inna Tree
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Surprisingly, Arnold's car was an old 95 Ford Mustang GT, none the worse for wear, but emerald green and clean as a whistle. As we tore down the interstate, headed to nowhere in particular, we filled each other in on the last year. More correctly, he talked and I made eyes at him.
He described his grandmother's funeral, filled me in on his parent's doings, and the latest of his own school gossip from down the coast. For my part, I had little to offer in return, as not a whole lot had changed for me since my last letters to him. I recounted the "incident" of Phoebe, Sheena and myself at the pep rally, but as this had made the national news wire, there wasn't too much he didn't know. After a bit, what we WEREN'T saying to each other was more note worthy than what we were.
I decided to press my luck.
"So... you, um... haven't said a whole lot about your friends other than Erik and Hoss. Any girls in your life? You have a girlfriend?"
As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Doi! If he had a girlfriend he wouldn't be necking with you, stupid! At least, I hope he wouldn't...
"Um,no... no I don't. Haven't in a while, actually." His eyes never left the road. "Uh, look Helga, I came up here under the pretext of checking out potential colleges to attend..."
I chose my words carefully, "Pretext?" I said, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Hold on a sec, we need gas." he sighed, still not looking at me.
Pulling off into a Citgo station, Arnold tended to the car as I took the opportunity to stretch my legs. 9:35 PM! Holy shit, we've been driving nearly two hours! I walked slowly around to his side of the car, and ran my hand along his arm as he pumped gas. Without warning, he hit me with those eyes again only now they were the picture of sadness.
"Helga..." he said softly, "I... I'm... oh shit, this was such a mistake!"
Finishing up with the pump, he turned to face me. "Look, I'm sorry. Coming up here was really selfish of me. I didn't once think what this might do to your life, just what I wanted in mine! I... I just... I just needed to KNOW, okay? I needed some closure on this. On us! Even if you never wanted to see me again, I just had to know where I stood with you."
Panting, he just looked at me, waiting.
For my part I wasn't sure what to say. All of the sudden, it was as if I'd been clubbed with a baby seal. I couldn't seem to organize my thoughts, and my throat had seized up. 'You came all the way up here for ME!' I wanted to shout, but I couldn't make words happen. I just stood there mouth going up and down as I attempted limp hand gestures.
Sadly, this all wasn't preparation for casting the "Make Everything Better" spell, and before I even realized it, I was crying, sobbing uncontrollably, to be more specific. In frustration I threw myself on him in another bear hug and managed to croak out "Y-you stupid... football head..." between sobs.
I couldn't stop crying and I couldn't figure out why. His guilt, magnified by my own had reduced me to a blubbering wreck. Cradling me in his arms, he did his best to help pull me together. After a humiliating eternity, I was able to sputter out "I... I w-want..." He soothed me. "Yes, what do you want, baby?"
Sniffling and wiping away my tears, I said "Pie. I w-want some pie." I was rewarded with a bewildered look, then the smile, and that helped a lot.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The Denny's on the edge of town was a tad run down, but seemingly always filled to capacity. The mass of contented diners gave this old place an energy and vibrancy that I desperately needed right now. There was a feeling of life and a low buzz of pleasant conversation.
Taking it all in, I was able to regain my internal balance. Our very gay waiter, "Chester" was both courteous and genuinely funny and almost single-handed made up for the rest of the evening. Arnold was just about to take Chester up on his suggestion of strawberry pie when I chimed in.
"I'm REALLY allergic to strawberries." and gave Arnold the 'you-should-know-that' look and smiled, "How's the apple?"
With a flourish of his pen and a wink he said, "Probably not as sweet as you, but why don't you give it a shot, hmmm?"
Oh, he's earned himself SUCH a tip!
I turned my attention back to the only smile that mattered. Arnold fiddled with his iced tea, attempting some manner of lemon/sugar alchemy, then looked back up at me.
"I meant what I said, Helga. I'm not here to interfere. If you want me to stay out of your life, I'll... understand."
I narrowed my eyes at him, "Crimenies, why're you being SO dense? Do I have to come right out and say it!"
Standing, I addressed the restaurant, "Attention please, let it be known that I, Helga G. Pataki do humbly request the privilege of becoming Arnold's love slave. I solemnly swear to unselfishly devote my life to his unending happiness and pleasure. Thank you."
I was bemused to see Arnold making his freakout face, which I'd only seen twice before in my life (one of which was when I was driving). With the cool aplomb of Don Knotts, he stood up to counter my announcement. "She's kidding, she's just kidding folks..."
As the chuckling died down I shot him my best shit-eating grin.
With the pie and coffee disposed of, we made ready to leave. Chester appeared out of nowhere "Will this be separate checks, or are you covering your slave as well?"
Grinning, I said, "Oh don't you worry, I'll be paying for that pie later!" Arnold just looked mildly annoyed. Ripping the check from his pad Chester smiled, "You're a very lucky young lady."
The statement caught me off guard.
"Yes" I said, slipping my arm around Arnold's waist, "Yes I am."
As Arnold paid up I left a ten spot on the table for Chester. Settling into the car I couldn't stop smiling. He looked at me quizzically. "What?" he asked. I leaned over and kissed him. "Thanks for coming back for me" I whispered. He stroked the back of my neck with his hand and said "Thanks for being here."
Back out on the highway, we drove on in silence. Holding hands when we could, and kissing at the stoplights, I was slowly getting VERY used to this new situation. We'd always just been tight friends, like me and Phoebe, and I trusted Arnold, no more importantly I respected him. I guess we were both so happy with the way things were, that neither of us made a move to change it. But now... Now that I see him again, now that I've tasted life without him... well, there's no going back.
Back on the edge of town, we pulled into a motel parking lot. I raised an eyebrow as he set the parking brake. "This is where I'm staying while I'm in town. Mind if I pop in and check my messages?" I was both relieved and disappointed to hear this. The thought of the two of us together in the shower held a certain appeal.
"Sure," I said, " I need to use the little honor student's room anyway." His room was as neat as I'd come to expect from him, and he motioned me towards the bathroom as he dialed up his messages. Finishing up my business, I took stock myself in the big mirror.
Rumpled hair and clothes, sweat from the party, and my breath reeked of beer and pie. Perfect, just the image I wanted to present to the man I'd assassinate a world leader for.
Taking a few deep breaths, I vowed to press on.
There is not a single moment in my adult life that can compare to the disappointment I felt at seeing Arnold still fully dressed as I opened the bathroom door.
He had just finished up on the phone as I approached him.
"Well," he sighed, "Guess we better get you back home. Ready to go?"
Without a word I planted a hand in the center of his chest and pushed him backwards onto the bed.
"Stopping off to check your messages..." as I put my hands on my hips.
"You're just lucky I'm sophisticated..." as I pulled my shirt off.
"... Worldly..." as I leapt on top of him.
"...A woman who could see through such a flimsy stunt!"
I held his hands down on bed and got him in a lip lock. Panting between kisses he smiled and managed to wheezed "So, should I call you a cab?" Straddling him, I reached behind my back and undid my bra clasp. Shaking it loose from my shoulders, I reached down to caress his cheek.
"Shut up, football head..." I whispered and kissed him.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
This is roughly based on my own experiences. I had a schoolgirl pal that I was close with, but nothing special between us. A few years down the road, we hooked up again and sparks flew. The separation was good for Arnold and Helga in that it gave them a chance to grow as individuals without the social pressures they would face as a couple.
