Chapter Six: Bullshit
"All right, class, the moment you've all been waiting for, our final exam of the year." The entire class groaned, but Mr. Brodenham decided to ignore it. "This is no ordinary test like in your Science or History classes, this is an entire essay test. I don't want to know the facts, I want to know what insight you've gained throughout this quarter. Tell me what you've learned, or if you haven't learned anything at all."
"That will be at least half the class," Helga mumbled under her breath. Arnold (who sat next to her more often now) had to stifle a laugh. Of course Helga would say something like that.
After the whole hockey incident and Helga's little break down, Arnold was always with her, but was careful to keep his distance. Helga, on the other hand, didn't mind his company, but still she would not tell him the thing they both knew…that everyone knew. What everyone didn't know, was that Arnold felt the same way, but he wouldn't let her know until she finally confessed. He was willing to give her that time to ready herself.
"I will give you the duration of the class period to finish this. Once the bell rings…" he looked at Helga who glared back. "…your time is up. Starting now."
Pencils started scribbling straight away, but Helga kept her brows furrowed and her stare on her incarcerate teacher. He did not teach them anything this quarter, but only made them read books and told them his own views. Not once did he ask for another opinion. Of course, he wanted them to give him approval for his own theories, but every time Helga had challenged him, he closed off. To him, her theories were crap; meant nothing to him. No one told Helga G. Pataki that she didn't have the possibility of being right. Even though Mr. Brodenham never said it out loud, she knew he was thinking it. He despised her as much as she loathed him.
After what hardly seemed like enough time, the bell rang, and chairs shuffled as students grudgingly turned in their half-attempted essays.
"What did you think of the test, Helga?" Arnold asked as he stood up from his desk. He gasped when he looked at her paper that was left completely blank. How could…why would…Helga Pataki didn't just leave an essay blank. "Helga, what—"
"I didn't take it, Arnold," she said without looking at him. "I don't agree with proving Mr. Brodenham's points for him, especially since he and I don't agree on anything, so I rescued him from the heartache of correcting my paper and left it blank."
Mr. Brodenham, who had been listening to their entire conversation, walked over to Helga's desk with a frown. "Pataki, I need to talk to you. Can you give us a minute, Arnold?"
"S-sure," Arnold stammered, still quite shocked. "I'll see you at dress rehearsal, Helga."
He couldn't believe it…he didn't want to believe it. Why would Helga intentionally leave an entire essay test blank, even if she didn't agree with he teacher's theories? Something was bugging her…something that had to do with…
Him.
She didn't know how to handle this new side he was showing her, and Arnold didn't know how else to tell her other than trying to get it out of her. He had to find Gerald…even if his plan didn't work the first time, he just had to help him with this. Since Gerald's parents were out of town, all he needed was an empty house and a bunch of people. Helga seemed to always freak out when she was alone with him…but if there were people around, she always…
Arnold didn't waste any time running off to find his best friend.
"Are we all here?"
"Here's a dandy and convenient place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage…"
"No, no, NO…Stinky." Helga yelled before slapping her hand to her forehead. "The line's 'Here's a marvelous convenient place'…stop throwing words in there."
"But Helga, it just don't make no sense. It ain't proper English." Helga sighed deeply and covered her face with her hands.
"Just say what the lines are. I don't care if it doesn't sound right. Shakespeare wrote it, and professionals abridged it…"
"What the hell's abridged mean?"
"That doesn't matter…just start the scene over, and Harold, the line is 'Are we all met,' met meaning here."
"But—"
"Just…do…it," Helga seethed through clenched teeth. She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath. "From the top of the scene. Harold, your line."
"Are we all met?"
"Here's a marvelous convenient place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage."
"Peter Quince"
"What sayest thou, bully Bottom?"
"There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisbe that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?"
"By'r lakin, a parlous fear"
And so it went on…despite the few setbacks some of the actors brought about, it went pretty well. Helga was confident that she could send these people out on stage without needing to hang herself.
And then Arnold came on stage…
"I go, I go! Look how I go! Ahahaha!" Curly screamed while running off the stage like the lunatic he was. Arnold, on the other hand, bent down with a flower in his hand and squeezed the juices of the onto Iggy's eyes.
"When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously
When thou wakest, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy." His words were so calm, so soothing, and after he spoke them, he made a point to look at Helga and linger his gaze for a moment too long.
"Captain of our fairy band! Uhhhh, Captain?" Arnold was broken from his trance and turned his head once again to see Curly at his side.
"Uhhh, yes?"
"Helena is here at hand;
And the youth, mistook by me,
Pleading for a lover's fee.
Shall we their fond pageant see?
Lord, what fools these mortals be!"
"Yes, what fools indeed." Helga whispered to herself.
They got through the rest quite spotless, and when Helga ordered everyone to start packing up, Arnold made an announcement.
"Hey! I'm having a cast party tonight…kinda like a pre-show thing. Everyone who wants to come is welcome…and bring friends. It's at Gerald's house."
"That sounds like fun, doesn't it Helga?" Phoebe asked as she was putting her headset in her backpack.
"Yeah, I don't know if I'm going to go…"
"What?" Two voices said the same thing at the same time. Phoebe was looking at her as though she'd gone mad again, and when she turned around, Arnold looked crushed.
"Why don't you want to come?" Arnold asked.
"I-I don't know…I'm just, tired is all."
"But you can't let Phoebe go all by herself, and everyone wants you to come."
"I have to get ready to re-take that test in English."
"Helga, when have you ever needed to study for an English test?" This time both Arnold and Helga stared at Phoebe. These words did not come out of Phoebe Hyerdahl's mouth.
"Phoebe, what has gotten into you?"
"Helga, go to the party. It's our senior year, and we're supposed to be having fun. I know you want to go." She fixed her friend with a knowing look that finally broke her resolve.
"Fine, I'll go to the stupid party, but only for you, Phoebe."
"Great, I'll see you both then. Oh, and Phoebe, I'm sure Gerald will be thrilled that you're coming." If it were at all possible for Phoebe to turn bright red, she did so in that moment.
From the outside of the Johansson residence, it looked like a lovely house that had gone down for the night, but the party going on in the house proved that theory invalid.
Everyone from the cast, and all their friends who brought even more friends had come, it was quite the party. The whole of the senior class had showed up, all but two people…
"Have you seen Helga?" Arnold asked Gerald. His friend shrugged.
"Nope, but when you see Phoebe, let her know that I dig her. Hey babe! What are you doing with that vase?" Gerald rushed off to tend to a drunk girl. Arnold sighed. Gerald had bribed Jamie-O to pick up a keg and some coolers on his way back from his football practice. Jamie-O was the second-string quarterback for a professional football team. At the moment he was entertaining some girls with the exquisite details of his last game, while giving them autographs.
"Hey Arnold!" He turned around and Gerald nodded his head toward the door. There was Phoebe Hyerdahl, and Helga Pataki. Gerald rushed forward right away.
"Hey babe, how you doin'?" Phoebe giggled and Helga rolled her eyes. She watched Gerald drag Phoebe off before she saw Arnold.
"So I guess they ditched us, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"So what's hairboy got, football head? You promised me a party and I am here to party." Arnold grinned. He was glad to see Helga back to normal…
A while later, the party was thinning out, people were leaving, and Arnold found himself on the roof of Gerald's house, a few bottles of Corona littered around them and a two shot glasses between him and Helga.
"Bullshit." Arnold sighed and took a shot.
"Fine, my turn."
"Did you know your head looks like a football?"
"Yeah, that's why you call me football head."
"Psht, I know that. I was thinking it was a fununy thing." Arnold started laughing. "What?"
"Fununy isn't a word." Helga joined in with his hysteric laughing.
"Shut up."
"Fine, my turn." Although he wasn't drunk, being tipsy always made his brain work a lot slower. "Well, I don't know Helga, why won't you tell me anything?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know." Suddenly they both broke down into a fit of laughter and through Arnold's hazy mind, he wondered why no one could hear them. "Because I hate you."
"Bullshit." Helga sighed and took a shot of the goldish liquid. "I can't bullshit you, can I?"
Arnold looked at her with darkened eyes, his face getting serious and he was becoming a bit more sober with the intensity of the situation. "Why do you think you can bullshit me?"
"Because you're a doofus and don't know me at all."
"Bullshit." He poured her another shot and she downed it.
"Because there's nothing for me to bullshit about."
"Bullshit." She made to reach for another shot, but Arnold pulled her hand away. "Helga, stop this. Why won't you talk to me?"
"There's nothing going on, football head."
"Bullshit." Instead of letting Helga take the last shot, he did it himself. Strangely enough, in that moment, Helga trusted Arnold more than anything in the world. He was showing her that he would do anything for her, that he truly cared for her…and it scared her.
"L-look, Arnold. I'm just scared, is all." He moved in closer to her.
"What do you have to be scared of?"
"If I told you, I'd be putting everything I have into something serious. I've had fifteen years to build on…"
"Fifteen years?" Helga was suddenly quiet and peered over the edge of the roof. People were sporadically leaving the house.
"Look, Arnold, maybe we'd better…" Her words were cut short when Arnold pulled her face to his own, and pressed his lips to hers. Helga's eyes went wide, but shut tightly as a few tears leaked from them. Arnold opened his mouth a bit and Helga copied his action, letting her tongue slide with his. She pulled away quickly, recoiling from him.
"W-what's wrong?"
"We've had a lot to drink, Arnold…"
"No we haven't had hardly anything, don't do this again, Helga…"
"No, you listen to me!" Helga sobbed. "You don't understand how big this is for me! I-I just can't take the emotional strain of this right now…I need…I need…"
"What do you need?"
"I need you to let me sort this out."
"But I lo—"
"Don't say it…just…I'll see you tomorrow, football head." Arnold couldn't say anything, but watched her leave through the roof door. After a moment he scrambled to the edge of the roof and watched her from above as she walk through the front door.
"I love you, Helga Pataki!" She looked up for a moment, then bowed her head as she walked down the street. "I know you can't fathom it, but I do! I love you." Helga put her hands over her ears and broke into a run until Arnold couldn't see her anymore. Helga had him locked up; completely mad for her. His mind was reeling and he didn't know what to do with himself other than to slump down in the corner of the roof and let his eyes flood. The blurriness that came from the alcohol and tears blocked him from seeing Phoebe walk over to him. She sat across from him and placed her hand on his own.
"Arnold, tell me everything."
"I-I can't…"he sobbed. "She…I love…"
"I know, but Helga's really confused right now. She finds herself incapable of love by anyone."
"But I…"
"I know you do, so if I'm going to help you two out, I need you to tell me everything from the time you saved our neighborhood. Tell me what happened on top of the FTi building."
"She hasn't told you?"
"Her life has been traumatized by her family, the only person she opens up to is her therapist. I need you to tell me what happened so I can talk to her." Arnold took a deep breath and wiped at his eyes.
"Well, there was this guy that called me and Gerald when the whole thing started, Deep Voice…"
A/N: Sorry that took so long, I've been very busy getting everything ready for college. Reviews are always much appreciated, and thank you for reading. The last chapter will be up as soon as I write it. :) Don't worry, the finale is always the best part of the show!
