A/N: Do you know what's crazy? My school has already had a cancellation this year (well, we should have been able to go home on the day we had a blackout, but the power went back on right after they started to dismiss us, and we had to go back to class. Forty minutes of sitting in the dark before they even started to let us go home, and then we had to go back to school. Honestly, idiots run my school). Normally I am upset when school is canceled because then we have to make it up later (we are now going on President's Day, but that's mostly normal. I think in the eleven years I have been in school, I've only had that day off once), but it was a very nice break in the middle of the week. Anyways, I think it is stupid that now we can only have a two-hour delay or a cancellation (we never call one hour delays, and we can't have three-hour and four-hour delays because it makes it very difficult to serve lunch, which you must do for it to count as a full school day in Indiana) because if you don't know, winters can be bad in Indiana. I honestly think I may be going to school in July. Anyways, I just wanted to rant a bit about that. ^_^
And may John Ritter, Johnny Cash, and Indiana's governor Frank O'Bannon rest in peace.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! Or any of the characters associated with it. However, I do own those characters I add in ^_^.
A Sure Thing
Chapter 2 – The Selling of Souls
"Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad."
"Oh, honey, we are so proud of you. You were great out there," Stella said, hugging her son tightly. Many sixteen year-old boys would be embarrassed by his mom hugging them in front of all his teammates, but Arnold could not be happier.
"Another complete game shutout. Your grandparents will be sorry they missed this one," Miles said. The two were almost identical now, barring the age difference and the shape of Arnold's head. Arnold was still two inches shorter than his father and a bit skinnier, but he was still hoping to grow.
"Gerald and I were going to go get a bite to eat." Arnold had managed to pull away from his mom, who had been hugging him so tight she was making it very difficult to breathe. Every time Stella hugged Arnold it seemed as if she had not seen her son in six years, and after nearly seven years of being back with her son her habit remained the same. Again, Arnold did not mind at all, but, on the other hand, he liked to breathe. "Is that okay?" he asked politely.
"Oh, Arnold, your grandma was wanting you to eat chili with the rest of the family. She was going to make it especially for us."
Miles stared up at the clear blue sky. "Yes, Mom seemed to think it was going to snow, and we'd need something warm to eat for dinner."
Arnold shook his head. It was almost seventy degrees today, but if he remember correctly, Grandma had been running around the house this morning screaming that she would never have enough time to finish her Groundhog Day shopping.
"Arnold, go with Gerald. It's diffidently the better choice for your health," Miles said lowly.
"Miles!" Stella cried.
"What? Oh, let the boy go. It's just one night. There'll be other meals."
Stella gave him her signature look, one that pained Arnold, but she caved. "All right. Well, we've got to get going, so tell Gerald good game for us, okay?"
"No problem, Mom."
"All right. But you be home early, you got it? It's a school night after all." She kissed him on the cheek. "Good-bye, honey."
"Bye, Short Man," his dad said, patting him slightly on the back.
"Bye. I'll be home early, I promise."
Arnold ran over to Gerald and his family, all of whom seemed to be engaged in a very intense conversation, as Gerald liked to put it. He slowed down and approached them with caution. "Are you ready?" Arnold whispered, hiding behind Gerald.
"Hell yeah. Mom, Arnold and I are leaving now."
"Is that Arnold behind you?" Mrs. Johanssen asked.
Arnold slowly walked around Gerald. "Hello."
"Oh, Arnold, how are you today?"
"Fine, tha—" he started, but Gerald interrupted him. "Sorry, Mom, but we have to go."
"So soon? But Arnold just got here. I wanted to talk to him about the game," she said, smiling widely at the two boys.
"And I wanted to ask Arnold's opinion on solar powered cars. See, than you're not using up gas or electricity. It's practically free energy," Mr. Johanssen said.
"Unless it rains all the time," Jamie O said dryly. He was currently leaving in Seattle, and judging by his expression, he would much rather be there than at his kid brother's baseball game.
Timberly had not said a thing. Now an eighth grader, she was staring up at Arnold with stars in her eyes. Arnold swallowed hard and avoided her gaze.
"Sorry, Mom, Arnold and I have to go."
Her face and everyone else's except Jamie O's fell. "Okay. Bye, Gerald. Good bye, Arnold," she said sadly. "We'll see you soon."
"Bye, Mrs. Johanssen," Arnold said as Gerald pulled him away. "What are you in a hurry for?"
"My family drives me crazy. You know that."
Arnold shrugged. "They're not that bad." He was not lying. Comparing the Johanssens to Arnold's extended family at the boarding house, they were very easy to live with. Arnold smiled. No matter how crazy they act at times, he would not change them for a thing.
"Are you crazy?" Gerald cried.
"Hmmm, probably."
Gerald rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's just go."
They walked across the parking lots and got in Gerald's car. "So, how's the 'rents?" he asked as he pulled out of the South Central High parking lot.
"Fine, though I almost couldn't go. Mom gave the look."
"Oh, the look."
"Yeah."
They were quiet for a while, leaving Arnold to his thoughts. Arnold's mother had a look that was all her own, and it nearly killed Arnold every time she gave it to him. Stella had a tendency to want to keep Arnold all to herself; he could not blame her since they had missed out on so many years together, but she had to remember that Gerald was like family to Arnold. He changed the subject to put the thought in the back of his mind. "So, Rosalie was at the game."
"I know," Gerald said in a whiny tone.
"And you didn't talk to her."
"Arnold, I had to talk to the guys, and then Mom grabbed me. There was no time for Rosalie."
"She won't be happy."
"Well, that's too bad. We're not dating. We're just going to prom together."
"Gerald, I don't understand. Rosalie's awesome. Why don't you just date her?"
"Arnold, you're right, but you don't understand."
Arnold stared at him. How can I be right and still not understand?
"I can't restrict myself to only one girl."
"Restrict. Good one. Then why are you going to prom with her?"
"Because I figure if I have to make an appearance at the damn thing, I might as well have a great looking girl on my arm and one that won't bore the shit outta me." He pulled into the parking lot.
"I'm glad you've put a lot of thought into this," Arnold said sarcastically as he got out of the car.
"I have, and it works. Rosalie's just going to have to deal with it."
"Right. Well, either way, we've got a more important issue to deal with."
"What's that?"
Arnold smirked. "Do I want my French fries with cheese or chili?"
Gerald smiled. "Both, because at the Tenth Inning, Hillwood City's most famous baseball bar –"
"And grill."
"You can have whatever you want on your fries for only ninety-nine cents –"
"Whenever South Central High's five straight conference winning team throws a shut out."
"And since today my man Arnold, the south paw with the nastiest curve ball this side of the Rockies, threw one of those babies, we get the honor of putting whatever the hell we want on our fries!" Gerald cried as he opened the door. Several other members of their team were there, and so were a handful from other schools, but they were sitting on the family side. Players were only allowed to sit on the bar side if they had a shut out, won conference, or a post-season game. How the manager got away with having several minors in the bar was beyond them. Arnold supposed because he refused to serve them alcohol no matter how hard they begged. He personally did not think it was that bad to let minors sit in a bar, as long as you don't sell them drinks, but all Arnold really worried about when he ate there was what he was going to eat.
"No, no, no, if it wasn't for the Bruins' slick handed centerfielder's Web Gem at the end of the sixth inning, all this would not be possible," Arnold said loudly, grinning from ear to ear.
"Yeah, well, you know, I was just trying out a little Willie Mays/Andruw Jones thing out there. See if it works for me or not."
"Oh, it does, ladies and gentlemen," Arnold began to explain to an invisible crowd. They were getting a bit carried away, but neither cared how ridiculous they looked at the moment. "Because Mr. Johanssen here had a great day at the plate. Three for three with two doubles, a run scored, and three, oh yes, I said three runs scored in the Bruins' victory tonight."
"We're lucky we're actually good," Gerald said seriously as they sat down in a booth.
"Damn straight."
"Because otherwise we'd be extremely big-headed," he said.
"Oh, don't worry boys, your ego's only about the size of Washington right now. When it's as big as California, then I'd begin to worry," their waitress said. Since they sat in the same booth every time, Leslie always waited on them, much to her dislike. She did not mind Arnold, but Gerald's constant attempts at flirting were very annoying. "We all ready heard the news before you boys threw your own parade in here."
"Oh, Leslie, hon, we know how much you like it."
"No, Gerald, I still won't go out with you."
"Damn."
"The usual?" she asked.
"Yep," they said together.
"Right. I'll let you two return to your glory days."
Gerald stared at the very attractive young woman was she walked away with a dazed look on his face.
"Gerald?"
"Hmmm?"
"Do you remember what Leslie is?"
"Really, really hot."
"Well, yes, but Leslie's a ESOW."
"Extremely sexy older woman."
"Right. And do ESOWs date seventeen year-old boys?"
"No."
"Very good."
"Be cool if she did, though."
Arnold was about to reply when the door was thrown open, and an angry blonde sat down at the bar. "Large Pepsi, jumbo frank with everything, and a grand slam sundae," Helga snapped at Steve, the owner. She was good friends with his daughter and his family, so Helga was welcome at the actual bar while the few under twenty-one in the bar room had to be about three feet away.
"The girls lost?" Gerald whispered since their booth was right behind her.
"Possibly," Arnold said, watching her closely, but she said nothing else. Their food came, so Arnold and Gerald resumed general conversation while Helga ate in silence.
"So, what happened?" Steve asked Helga after a few minutes.
She played with her sundae. "Nothing."
"Helga, you only order one of those when something bad happened."
She scooped a lot of ice cream on her spoon and watched with mild interest as she tipped it and the contents slowly spilled back into the soupy mess. "We won. What could be wrong?"
"Okay." He turned to wipe down other part of the counter.
A few seconds later she quickly spat, "I just don't understand why coach doesn't play me."
"Your first step is too slow, and you rush your throws," Arnold said automatically, immediately regretting opening his mouth for anything other than food.
"What did you just say?" she asked coldly as she turned around.
Gerald stopped eating. Arnold swallowed and put his hamburger down. "Your first step is too slow, and you rush your throws."
"That's not true!" she cried defensively.
"It is and you know it. You're fast and a smart base runner, which is good enough most of the time, but your first step is too slow when you try to steal, and that's why good catchers usually throw you out. And you don't take enough time to aim because you get flustered when someone tries to steal on you, which is a shame because you have a canon for an arm."
She gave him a weird look before scoffing at him. "What do you know?" she muttered, and she returned to her food.
The two boys ate in silence watching the baseball game on television until Gerald suddenly cried, "Shit!" and crawled underneath the table.
"What are you doing?" Arnold hissed, blushing as all eyes turned to them, except Helga, who was ignoring them.
"Hiding from Marlene."
"Marlene?" Arnold could not remember Gerald dating or ever even talking about a Marlene.
"Marlene. The one from Reagan High."
"The one with the speech impediment?"
"No, that was blind-date Jessica. Marlene was the psycho."
"Oh. Psycho Marlene. Now I remember." He was lying, but he decided it was impossible to remember all the girls Gerald has gone out on a date with over the years. "Why was she a psycho again?"
"She called me about fifty times a day and sent me poems about how her love for me was undying and she would kill herself, or me, if I didn't love her as much as she loved me."
"Sounds like a keeper." Arnold swirled the spoon in his milkshake.
Gerald slowly emerged. "Good. She's gone."
"Did you ever call her back?"
"What?" Gerald asked, taking a large bite of his hamburger.
"Did you ever call her back when she called you?"
"No. Why would I do that?"
"You know, Gerald, if you would call them back they might not become psycho," Arnold said, eating a chili soaked fry.
"Hey, you don't know what kind of pressure I'm under."
Arnold rolled his eyes. "Obviously," he muttered.
"So, speaking of ladies, how's the prom date hunt coming."
Arnold groaned. "I don't understand it. Lila and I have so much in common, and we get along great, but if I'd ask her she'd still say no. I don't get it."
"You don't have that 'oh so special something' she's lookin' for," Helga muttered.
He knew words had been spoken many times before, by both Helga and Lila, and they would probably be spoken many times more. "What does that mean?" Arnold cried desperately.
Helga turned around. "She wants the stuff that's in the movies. Lila's a born hopeless romantic, not unlike yourself, with emphasis on the hopeless part." She flicked an olive at Arnold, hitting him in the head. He did not seem to notice.
"I'm movie-romance material, aren't I, Gerald?"
Gerald nodded.
"Well, evidently not enough because you're still flying solo."
"Then what the heck am I supposed to do?" he asked.
"I have no idea," Gerald said.
"I could help you," Helga offered sweetly.
Arnold choked on his milkshake. "Why would you want to help me?"
"Can't I do something purely out of the goodness of my heart?"
Gerald snorted. "You don't have a heart."
Helga shot him an icy glare. "I'd rather be heartless than rip the hearts out of innocent girls."
Gerald's eyes blazed, but he said nothing.
"What do you really want in return?" Arnold asked, watching her carefully.
"Your soul," Gerald muttered.
Helga ignored him. "I want to play. I'm good enough to start on our sorry-ass softball team, but my coach doesn't think so. She barely gives me the time of day. I'm sick and tired of warming the damn bench, so if the 'pride of South Central' could help me improve, then maybe I could."
"You want me to help you with softball?"
"Yeah. The two sports are close enough, and I'm sure the golden boy could handle anything."
Arnold hesitated. "You're sure with your help she'll say yes?"
"Please, Arnold, if we couldn't do it, what makes you think Helga G. Pataki can?" Gerald asked.
"Because unlike a boy who has been chasing the same girl for over a year and another who can't get beyond the first date with anyone who isn't willing to jump in his pants, I understand girls, seeing how I am one."
"You're not a girl! You're a soulless mass of flesh sent by an evil power to torture Arnold and me for the rest of our lives! " Gerald cried.
"Hopefully I won't be anywhere near you in two years and all the years after that!" she shot back.
"Guys –" Arnold said slowly. This happened every time Gerald and Helga were near each other for more than two minutes.
"I UNDERSTAND GIRLS, especially sappy ones like Lila." Helga glared at Gerald, and if looks he would be six feet under right now. Arnold actually felt the temperature drop. Helga continued, regaining some of her composure. "I can manipulate her like that." Helga snapped her fingers.
"Helga, I don't want to manipulate her. I want her to like me for me."
"Isn't that sweet?"
"Helga," he snapped, an edge to his voice.
She shrugged. "I know, Arnoldo. She all ready likes you; she just needs a little push to say yes."
"And you can help me give her that push?"
"If you can help me get that starting spot."
Arnold looked at Gerald. "Don't do it, man," he said.
"Do we have a deal, Football Head?" she asked.
Arnold looked back and forth between the two. Helga was grinning like a Cheshire cat, and Gerald was merely shaking his head. He was afraid to trust and work with Helga pertaining to something so personal, but on the other hand, nothing else had worked, and he liked Lila so much . . . . An idea flashed in his head that would test how much Helga really wanted to do this.
"Well?" she asked impatiently."
Only if you stop calling me Football Head." He extended his hand.
She stared at it, and after moments of deliberating, she grabbed it. "Deal," she said.
"Ow," Arnold muttered when she released his hand. Helga had a very strong handshake, or she may have been purposely trying to break his fingers.
She stood up and threw a couple bills on the counter. "Well, it was nice doing business with you." She smiled charmingly. "Good night, boys."
Arnold watched her leave and turned to Gerald. "I shouldn't have done that, right?"
"Right."
"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
"Probably."
"And it will end badly?"
"Most likely."
Arnold sighed. It was going to be a long five weeks.
A/N: Oh yeah, Arnold's parents are alive in this one. I felt it would be happier, plus I think I there was a Jungle Movie, he would have found them, and Miles, Stella, Arnold, and Helga would have lived happily ever after, and we would finally know Arnold's last name. This song was only wishful thinking . . . .
I'm working on "Where to Begin," I promise. It's just going a little slow. Updates will be coming soon, so be on the lookout. Until then, later days.