Chapter 6! Chapter 6! Chapter 6! Hahahahahahaha I'm so happy, I'm so happy! Not really, but I can dream, can't I!! Yes, before I proceed with this chapter, I must say a special Thank You to my friend, by pal, and my locker mate, Becca. A wonderful kind friend, who went behind my back and came on Fanfiction.net and sought out my story even though I gave her express wishes NOT TO!!! But it's the thought that counts. And of course to all my other reviewer's, I don't love you less, I just don't have to share a locker with you! So, chapter 6! Ya ready to read? Hope so, Because we ain't stopping for nobody! Ready, Set, Read!
Disclaimer: I don't own 1) Hey Arnold, 2) The Something Corporate Song "Ruthless", 3) The Something Corporate Song "Globes and Maps", 4) A Yorkshire Terrier, 5) My own phone line 6) A second earring hole, 7) A considerable amount of common sense.
Chapter 6: Globes and Maps
"You okay?", Arnold asked for about the millionth time that night.
"Yeah, just tired…", Helga remarked, despite the obvious sleepiness in her voice.
"You guys…have a good time?", Phoebe asked, anxious to lengthen the conversation as long as possible in the confined space.
"Yeah", they both answered in unison. Arnold went on to stare at the opposing wall for the remainder of the ascent. Helga on the other hand, stood, her eyes jolting from here to there, as the cherry blush spread across her cheeks, accentuating the cinnamon freckles sprinkled over her nose. Outside the elevator, the three parted, Phoebe down one hallway, Helga and Arnold down another.
"You can uh…open the door, if you want.", Helga moaned, much too tired to bother with the key that often changed it's mind whether it wanted to work correctly or not. Inside, Helga took off her coat, and let it sit on her bed until SHE felt like putting it away. Unlike Phoebe, Helga decided to dress down for the night. Before awakening Arnold, she'd changed into a pair of black pants, the fabric unknown, and a purple cotton sweater that came down near the edge of her shoulder. Phoebe on the other hand, went in a dark blue top that bared a large portion of her back, much to Gerald's dismay. But after much begging, and pleading ( and a little more begging thrown in there somewhere) Phoebe agreed to keep on her matching blue jacket for the rest of the night.
"Um, you can use the uh, the bathroom, if you want.", Helga stammered, sheepishly scratching the back of her head. 'What is wrong with me today,' she thought, finally mustering the courage to look at him. 'I'm probably just tired', she reasoned.
"No, really. Go ahead, it's fine.", he said, also avoiding her eyes.
"Um, okay. Thanks", she stated, quickly, turning her back to him as she gathered her pajamas and headed into the bathroom.
For a moment, Arnold welcomed the silence with open arms, but after about a minute, it became almost petrifying. He quickly turned on the T.V., he'd been neglecting since he began occupying the room. He searched channel by channel trying to locate a decent program, that resided on completely different stations. He finally settled on a news program of some sort, reporting on a riot outside a grocery store. Oh well, it occupied his ears and that's all that was required.
Inside the bathroom, Helga attempted to dry her hair in the foggy, clouded mirror, with the hair dryer the hotel provided, but after her recent encounter with heated hair styling tools, she declined and opted to towel dry her hair instead. She put away all of her own things, so as not to cause an inconvenience to Arnold when he decided to use the bathroom. She eventually emerged from the bathroom obviously dressed different from the night before. Tonight, she'd decided to done herself in an immensely oversized T-shirt. Despite the fact that it clashed horribly with her oversized pajama pants, it wouldn't have been Helga to prance around all willy-nilly in her former nightwear. Especially in front of Arnold.
"Hey, what's that?", Helga asked, pointing to Arnold's left hand.
"Oh, I almost forgot I was holding it.", he laughed, passing the long white envelope from one hand to another.
"Well, where'd it come from?", Helga asked, growing more and more impatient.
Arnold began the tedious tale of how he'd obtained his envelope. As they were leaving the "Blue Screen Room, Arnold was, as usual, lingering behind. Not far off, there was an older man struggling to get three very large suitcases into a taxicab parked on the side of the curb, and in the process, dropped a package of some kind. Of course, Altruistic Arnold came to the rescue, just as the man was about to drive off in his cab.
"Thank You, young man, the older man said, under a bristly mustache and beard. "You should be rewarded for such kindness", he remarked, reaching into his coat pocket.
"No, no", Arnold protested.. "It's okay, really…", he began before seeing the envelope.
"Take someone special.", he said, just before…
"ARNOLD!!!!!!", Gerald yelled out,
"Than-", , Arnold began, turning to where the old man once stood. Instead, he saw nothing, not even the cab. He, however, had no time to contemplate this phenomenon, being as Gerald was yelling his brains out at this moment.
"So, ya gonna open it?", Helga asked, heading back to the bathroom.
Without answering, Arnold peeked inside the unsealed envelope and found two (!) tickets to the theater up the street's production of West Side Story. The production was being performed by the local college's Drama and Arts program.
'Take someone special…someone special…', he thought, silently. The voice rang around over and over in his head, deafened only by the sound of running water.
"Hey Helga", he said into the bathroom, partially without thinking.
"Yeah", she replied, peering out from the side of the bathroom, causing her hair to fall to one side of her shoulder.
"Um, what's uh, what's Phoebe's room number?", he asked, mentally slapping himself for being A) a wimp, B) a spineless coward, and C) a horrible liar. He would never take Phoebe, but figured that Gerald and Phoebe would have more of a use for the tickets than he would if he were to go out looking for someone to drag to a play. Unless of course, he didn't have to look.
Unknowingly, his gaze shifted over to Helga, who was now seated on the floor, arranging a stack of playing cards for a game of solitaire. It wasn't so much how she looked, because with the sopping wet hair that clung mercilessly to her neck and back and her way-to-big clothes, she was anything but "glamorous". It was more the way she carried herself, like no one was watching her. She was one of the people who wanted to be seen for so long, but was practically accustomed to being near invisible, that she sometimes didn't even see herself. But, in her own self assurance, she'd gained an undeniable beauty. It left him almost spell bounded.
"So, you wanna be a doctor or something?", she asked, her back still turned to him.
"What do you mean?", he asked, still in his own little pretend land.
She didn't speak right away, just turned and lifted her long blonde bangs on the left side of her head, now revealing a slightly less shocking pink scar that seemed to shrink.
"Sorta. What about you?", he asked, directing the attention away from himself for a minute. "You got any career goals?"
"Do you HAVE any career goals…", she corrected, smirking wildly.
"Okay, English Teacher.", he said, sarcastically.
Out came one of Helga's real, true blue, genuine laughs. The kind that start in your diaphragm and work their way up to your heart, and eventually burst through your mouth, gracing the ears of all who heard them. She hadn't laughed like that in a long time. He eventually joined, his laughter not nearly as enjoyable as hers.
"No", she said, after finally calming down. "I want to be a writer. A journalist, actually."
"That's cool. I mean. anyone can learn to be a doctor, but it takes something special to be a really good writer.", he stated, smiling.
"Thank You, that means a lot to me.", she said, her turn to stammer like an idiot. She looked him in the eyes and threw him a friendly smile. At least, it was intended to be friendly. But then again, people often got the wrong message about Helga. Because she was friends with more boys than girls, people automatically assumed the worst. But she just felt that she related better to boys, she didn't care much how most people saw her. She cared for a while how some people saw her, but not enough to have her change into the world's stereotypical girlie-girl. That really wasn't her.
~*~*~*~*~* About 2 hours later…~*~**~*~*~
After a rousing game of WAR, Helga was initially the first to retire into the oceans of sleep.
"Okay, Arnold. I am ready for bed. You can…whatever, just turn off the T.V., okay?", she yawned, stretching her ballet dancer's body and eventually crawling under the covers.
"Okay, goodnight.", he said, turning off the T.V. just as a Mary Tyler Moore biography commercial came on, showing several different memorable scenes from her career, including one of her with her hair in the classic 60's flip hairdo sitting up in a bed with Dick Van Dyke in a separate bed, obviously a scene from the infamous Dick Van Dyke Show. Helga smiled as the T.V. screen went white then black. Arnold turned off the bathroom light that Helga had evidently neglected, and the light to the room. In the dark, he slipped under his own covers, shifting around rather loudly.
"Arnold?"
"Yes?"
"Go to sleep."
"Goodnight."
"G'night."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Thank you guys!!!! Oh yes, and I got the idea for the "Blue Screen Room" from an interesting place: My room. I had just finished watching Finding Nemo (It's the best!) and when I pushed the stop button, the screen turned blue. Well, when you turn off the lights, the whole room is blue, I mean everything. Hence the name" The Blue Screen Room!!! Cool, huh? Okay, it's 11:09 PM and I have Chemistry homework!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BYE!