A/N: Thank you for waiting patiently…I won't bore you with all my time consuming activities. I'll just let you bask in the joy of an update.
Disclaimer – I don't own Hey Arnold. Or Jolly Ranchers for that matter. Now that would be a cool thing to own. ^_^
A Sure Thing
Chapter 3 – The Odds and Ends of Foes and Friends
~ Friday, April 11 ~
Arnold chewed the end of his pencil as he tried to figure out a rather complicated, twelve step, chemistry lab problem. Why did I take Chem II? he wondered, suddenly feeling like throwing his chemistry book out a window. He was getting a grasp on it when suddenly Helga threw her book bag on the table and flopped down in the chair opposite him. "Do you mind?" he snapped. His head hurt bad enough without having to deal with her.
"Not so much," she replied, popping a Jolly Rancher in her month.
"I was just starting to understand this, and there you go messing it all up." He moved her bag and tried to reorganize his notes and homework.
Helga picked up his homework and half-heartedly glanced at the devilish problem. ".3 M," she said quickly before flicking the wrapper, hitting Arnold between the eyes.
Arnold grabbed the paper back and plugged the answer back into the equation. She was right. "Uh, thanks," he said awkwardly.
"No problem," she said absently as she doodled in one of her notebooks.
"Um, so what are you doing here?" he asked in an attempt to break the awkward silence. It was his study hall and he had gone to the library to get his homework done where it was quieter, but he was pretty sure she did not have study hall this period as well.
"Oddly enough I came here to see you," she said without looking up.
"Why?" he asked.
"Well, for one thing, Señorita Vizquel was driving me muy loca, so I decided to cut it."
"And how'd you do that?"
"I faked a stomach cramp. Anyways, I am here to finalize our deal."
Arnold sighed. "You know, Helga, I've been thinking . . . "
"Arnoldo, from this point on, it is not your job to think. I'll do that for you."
"Look, Helga, if you want me to help you, I will. You don't have to go through all this trouble."
"And miss out on the fun, live, raw entertainment of watching you crash and burn with Lila Sawyer? Please, do you know how hard that kind of stuff is to come by nowadays?"
He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and glared at her, clearly annoyed. "Do you ever just let somebody do something nice for you?"
"No. That'd mean I'd owe them a favor somewhere down the road. I don't like to be in debt to anyone. I feel it's best just to get the whole thing over with as soon as possible." She unwrapped another Jolly Rancher and put it in her mouth. "Want one?"
"No thank you. I just don't understand, Helga."
"What's there to understand? It's candy, and it's good."
He made a face. "I didn't mean that. Why do you want to help me when you don't like me and you hate Lila?"
She lowered her eyes and began to roll the wrapper back and forth in her palm, saying nothing.
"Helga?"
Her brown eyes looked coldly up at him, clearly not wanting to tell him too much information, or any at all. What's she afraid to tell me? he wondered. "Like I said, I hate owing someone a favor." Her lips parted from their straight line and moved into a wide smirk. "That and I was beginning to feel sorry for you. You've got to admit, Arnoldo, you can be rather desperate and pathetic."
He sighed. And I thought she might actually have an answer worth listening to. "So, how exactly is this going to work?"
This time she flicked it just as he finished speaking, nearly reaching her goal of shooting the wrapper into his mouth. "Well, today's the eleventh, right?"
"Yeah."
"So we have about five weeks until prom. You should actually have a date right now, but I'll get you there by at least two weeks before the dance." She looked at her calendar. "May first."
May first was only twenty days away. A lump formed in Arnold's throat. "That's not even three weeks!"
"So? It won't take that long." She glared at him. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?"
"Well, I, um –"
She snorted with laughter. "Well, I can see that you are not a boy of many words, so I would suggest being the strong, silent type."
He glared at her. Does she have to torture me every time she opens her mouth? "I can talk to her just fine."
Helga raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"Yes."
She raised an eyebrow. "So you can do this without my help?"
He was feeling very aggravated with her. I won't be able to survive three weeks with Helga breathing down my neck. It's time to end this before it gets too far. "Easily."
The bell rang. "Right," she said sarcastically. Helga watched him gather his stuff before grabbing his arm and pulling him out the door into a hallway that was now crowded with students.
Arnold, surprised at what she was doing, noticed that she was holding onto him rather tightly, but he had a feeling she was not aware of it. It was almost as if she was afraid to let him go…
"All right, Casanova, prove me wrong!" Helga cried as she practically threw him away from her.
Still wrapped up in his thoughts, the next thing Arnold saw was the row of black lockers just before he collided with it. Not ready for such an impact, he crumpled to the floor, his shoulder throbbing with pain. "Ow."
A loud explosion of high, annoying, giggles erupted above him. Arnold looked up and to his horror a circle of girls was standing in front of him, one of them the object of his affections. He leapt to his feet. "Uh," he stammered, unable to say anything with a fraction of intelligence.
"Arnold, are you okay?" Lila asked while giving her friends looks that clearly meant cut it out.
"Yeah, I just, uh, wanted to see what you were doing tonight," he said rubbing his neck nervously. Though it probably looked like a desperate and pathetic attempt to get your attention. Damn you, Helga.
"Oh," she said, clearly surprised. "Well, I've this family thing to go to, but after I was going to go to a movie."
"With us," Valerie Harris said enthusiastically. Arnold winced. Valerie had had a huge crush on him earlier in high school, but she reminded him of a hyper-active fan girl (which, technically, she was since she when to every baseball game freshman and sophomore year with large signs saying how number five was the greatest and other random stuff that embarrassed the crap out of him). "You can come with us if you like," she offered.
"That's okay. I guess I'll talk to you later," he said facing Lila.
"Okay. Bye, Arnold, and watch out for those lockers," she said smiling.
His felt his face burn. "Right. See ya."
Arnold's eyes followed Lila as she left, and they eventually met a pair of large, mocking brown eyes. Helga was standing across the hall smirking at him. He tore his eyes away from her and stalked off to his locker.
Helga at least had the decency to give him a few minutes to fume in his own anger, but she returned to his side just as he had expected her to. " 'I guess I'll talk to you later.' Really, how lame was that?"
"Well, I'm not used to talking to the girl I like after I've been shoved into a locker right in front of her. And her friends," he growled through gritted teeth. He refused to look at her.
"Well, now do you see you could use my help?"
He turned to her. Her face blank, but her eyes were daring him to accept her challenge. "What are your terms?"
"I'm glad you asked." She knelt down and opened her bag. Helga pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him.
He took it and looked it over. Basically it was a contract stating that Helga would get Lila to go to the prom with Arnold if he helped her improve enough to gain a starting spot on the varsity volleyball team. Several rules were listed, including if he decided to go with someone else, she would not help him get that girl, but he would still be obligated to help Helga. His eyes narrowed. A lot of the rules were twisted into Helga's favor. "Is this really necessary?" he asked.
She nodded. Another contract was in her hands. "So what do you say, Football Head?"
He grabbed the other paper and scribbled his signature on both. "You can't call me that until the terms are completely met." He smirked as he pointed to rule nine.
Her mouth opened, but it quickly shut. "Fine." She snatched the papers out of his hands and signed her name. "See you Sunday at four," she said as she shoved one cop into his hands.
"What?" he cried, completely confused.
She sighed loudly. "Look at the back of the paper."
Arnold turned it over. On the back was a list of dates that they were scheduled to practice together. His eyes skimmed to the bottom of the page. In fine print Helga had written "If either persons should not participate on such days or notify the other that he/she will not be able to make it to the training session, the guilty party will have to face whatever punishment the other party sees fit." He looked up at her in disbelief. "What the heck is this?"
"Something to make sure you don't cheat your way out of this. Remember, if you skip and don't tell me, I make you do whatever the hell I want you to."
He shuddered at the thought. "Great. I'll be counting the minutes until then," he said sarcastically. Helga shrugged and began to walk away. Another thought hit him. "Hey, Pataki!" he yelled.
Helga turned slowly. "Yes?" she asked in a sugary-sweet voice that reminded him of Lila, except it sounded very wrong coming out of Helga's mouth.
"When are you going to work on my end of the deal?"
"I just helped you."
"How? By shoving me into the wall? I don't think that qualifies as helping, Helga. You might have screwed up my shoulder!"
"Baby," she muttered.
He glared at her.
"Fine! I'll work on some things for next week. Until then," she whispered and blew him a kiss as she walked away.
Arnold sighed. "She's got to be completely insane."
"Did you just figure that out?" Gerald asked, leaning against the wall. "Is it really worth what you are going to have to go through?"
Arnold pulled out a picture of Lila and himself at a basketball game. She had given it to him a while ago and he had kept it tucked away in the back of the locker. "I hope so."
¤~¤~¤
Helga grimly stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her golden hair was now dark and fell limply on her thin shoulders. Dark circles surrounded her dark brown eyes, which, at the moment, were flat and without any emotion at all.
Her eyes narrowed. If she looked like either of her parents, who she supposed were relatively attractive, she might have had a chance to look even slightly pretty. But as it was, she was almost an even combination of Bob and Miriam; for every feature she had of her father's she had one of her mother's. All the rest seemed to blend together. Her sister, however, closely resembled her mother and was a goddess. Just another reason to hate Olga, she thought as her eyes wandered to a picture frame on the vanity. It was taken at Olga's college graduation nearly five years ago. Bob and Miriam were hovering over Olga while Helga stood awkwardly off to the side. Helga sighed. Yes, that had been Olga's day, but it seemed everyday was Olga's day.
Ingrid must have picked it up, she thought, giving the photo one last look before turning it over. The only thing that kept Helga from throwing it off the balcony was the threat of possibly hurting someone below, that and also Ingrid's insipid nagging that family was the most important thing the in world. Helga could not force herself to be angry with her, seeing how Ingrid's family lived a lifetime away. Ingrid was the Patakis' housekeeper, and for the most part she saw everything that happened. And yet she still insists I try and make nice with Olga, Helga thought darkly. I don't think hell has frozen over yet.
Helga growled and turned harshly from the mirror to her closet — er, "walk-in closet." Roughly the size of a medium-sized bedroom, it was nearly impossible to find anything in it. She swiftly grabbed an old sweatshirt and jeans. Once she was dressed she quickly pulled her damp hair into a ponytail, stuffed her slightly oversized feet into a pair of slippers, and slowly descended downstairs to await her horrible fate.
Sunlight poured into the living room of the penthouse's oversized windows that overlooked the city and blinded Helga's eyes as she continued to the kitchen to check the answering machine (Ingrid said she was too busy to answer it; Helga guessed she just did not want to answer it earlier). There were six. The first four were from Alex Darren, and boy who was madly in love with Helga's disinterested older sister.
That was another thing that bothered Helga. Olga had men practically throwing themselves at her, but she had barely dated anyone. Her excuse in school was that she needed to study, but now Helga supposed she just liked to toy with them (which may have been her aim all along).
The fifth was the one Helga was waiting for from Miriam.
"Helga, Helga honey, we will be home at a quarter to seven (it was now seven after). Olga's already taken care of dinner so don't worry about that (Helga's lips twisted into a smile as the smell of overcooked salmon began to fill the air). Um, I think that is it. Oh, the Sawyers and your father should be at home by 7:30. Bye, Olga!" (voices were murmuring in the background) "Oops! Sorry. You're here with me! Olga says shalom, Helga (because we are Hebrew! Helga thought). Kiss kiss!"
The last message was from another one of Olga's lame suitors, and Helga quickly deleted all the messages as Olga and Miriam loudly entered the apartment.
"Baby sister, look hat we got!" Olga cried far too loudly for Helga' temper. She ran into the kitchen, Miriam on her heels.
"Why don't I wait and you can surprise me?" Helga asked grimly, leaving her mother and sister as she moved into the living room. Olga chirped happily at the thought of surprising Helga, but Miriam followed Helga and began to tidy the room while Helga flopped onto the sofa to read her newest issue of Alternative Press.
Miriam sighed heavily as she tried to organize the mess of papers that was the coffee table. "Why didn't Ingrid clean this up? Where is that girl?"
"She does have a life outside of this place. She went home." Helga took a swift look at the mess and quickly understood what happened. "Bob messed everything up when he was looking for his papers for the board meeting He probably stopped home after Ingrid left." She turned a page while Miriam computed the information. "Speaking of my dear father, when's he coming home?"
Miriam looked at the clock. "Twenty minutes. He's bringing the Sawyers home for dinner."
"Damn it," Helga muttered. So the priss was coming over.
"Language, Helga," Miriam said lackadaisically as she walked to the kitchen. Both parents always seemed to remember her name when she did something wrong.
Great. Lila's coming. Helga's eyes narrowed. How was it that the person she loathed the most was the daughter of one of her father's most trusted employees?
Lila was a picture perfect daughter, just like Olga. Lila was Olga's lil' sis. Lila was what Bob wanted Helga to be.
And Lila was whom Arnold wanted.
Helga's eyes closed slowly. If Lila were coming over, Arnold would get wind of it eventually. He seemed to find out everything about that girl; it was creepy in a way. He would find out that Lila was at Helga's and that Helga did nothing to get the wheels turning for him. I at least wanted to have one weekend alone with him. She opened her eyes as she heard voices in the foyer. But that would be asking far too much.
"Helga, honey, your father's home!" Miriam called.
Do you think I give a damn? Helga reluctantly stood up and met everyone. Lila, her father, and her stepmother were hugging Miriam and Olga. Helga leaned up against the wall and was thankful that she had not eaten yet, because if she had she would not have had the strength to keep her food down.
"Helga, why aren't you dressed for dinner?" was the first thing that Bob said to this youngest daughter.
"I'm not running around naked, am I?" she snapped.
"I think Helga looks darling," Ellen said. "Very cozy."
Helga's eyes narrowed and she managed to civilly spit out, "Thank you." Ellen looked remarkably like her stepdaughter, and acted just the same. Both reminded Helga of Barbie dolls, a mass of wasted, feigned perfection that Helga would rather rip their heads off than spend five minutes with. Ellen, however, was far more manipulative than Lila, but that was just because Lila had no brains, at least when it came to people. Ellen was well aware of how little Helga thought of her stepdaughter, but she never did anything about it because she was trying to help her husband along in the company, just as she had for the past seven years. Helga's insides ran cold as she thought of how since Mr. Sawyer became employed at Big Bob's Beeper Emporium (which now was an actual empire), Lila had been a central figure in her life, much to Helga's dismay, and Ellen had been along for the ride.
"Helga! ¡Buenas noches!" Lila cried happily.
"Hola," Helga replied simply. Lila was in Helga's Spanish class, and seemed to think that Helga loved to speak in Spanish with her. Helga was just angry that she had to listen to Lila's whiny voice decked out with a fake accent.
Dinner went quite well. Helga was used to being compared to Lila by Ellen, Miriam, and Bob, so that did not faze her in the least bit. Olga made a big deal over Lila's new hair cut ("That is the cutest hair cut I've ever seen!" Never mind the fact that Helga's hair looked identical to Lila's chin-length locks last summer), and Helga spent the entire dinner staring at her plate and humming "Battle Hymn of the Republic." For as much attention as Helga was getting, she could have been dancing on top of the table like a monkey with a machete in one hand and a bright pink football helmet on her head and everyone would still ignore her.
"Can I be excused?" she asked loudly, but the reaction around the table was minimal.
"Sure, sweetie," Miriam replied.
Helga glared at her mother before she left the table. Miriam had drunk only a few glasses of wine, but she knew that when Helga came home her mother would most likely be passed out on the coach in the living room. So much for the glamorous life, she thought as she walked up the stairs to her room.
At quarter to ten, Helga was ready to get out. Donning her favorite Ramones t-shirt and jeans, Helga bounced downstairs and cried, "I'm leaving! I'll be back before two!" as she reached for the doorknob.
"Wait girl!" Bob yelled from the living room.
Helga slowly walked into the room. Olga and Lila were engrossed in conversation about the cruelty of petting zoos, Ellen was telling a joke to a clearly drunk Miriam, and Mark, Lila's dad, was politely smiling at Bob. Helga had a feeling Mark hated her father, but she'd never cared enough to look too far into the matter. "What?" she snapped.
"Where are you going?"
So now you want to act like a model parent. Well, I'm not going to act like a model daughter. "Out. Good-bye." She turned to leave.
"Hey now, little lady!" he yelled. "That's not a sufficient answer."
"I'm going to a club downtown."
"Oh, I know! I have a great idea!" Ellen cried loudly.
You are going to stick your head in a blender? "What?" Helga snapped. All patience was gone.
"You can take Lila with you. She's going to the movies with a few friends. Why don't you go with them?"
Helga's temper flared. What the hell was she trying to pull? "That's all right," she said through gritted teeth. "I wouldn't want to impose," she finished, glaring at Ellen coldly.
Ellen got the hint, but she did not back down. "Well, since you are going into town anyways, can you drop Lila off for us? As a personal favor to Mark, Lila, and me?"
"That's a wonderful idea!" Miriam cried.
"Mom! I'm in a hurry! I don't have time!"
"You'll make time!" Bob roared.
Helga glared at all of them, but she knew the battle was lost. "If you want a ride, I'm leaving now," she said to Lila and left the penthouse.
Five minutes later, Helga pulled out and headed downtown. "I have to pick up a friend first."
"Oh," Lila replied as if she never realized Helga had her own friends.
"So, prom's coming up," Helga spat out after a long period of silence.
"Oh, yes. Ellen just bought me a dress. It's ivory and black with –"
"That's nice," Helga cut her off, "but I was wondering who you were going with or were hoping to go with."
"Oh, I haven't really thought about it. I mean, who would want to go with me?"
Lila's false humility was enough to make Helga want to choke her. She knew damn well how crazy Arnold was about her. Helga swallowed hard, completely disgusted at what she was about to do. "Well, I think you would look cute with Arnold," she said, her voice shaking at the end.
"Arnold?" she repeated as if she had never thought of the two of them as a couple.
"Sure," Helga replied. Her knuckles were turning white as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Loads of people think so."
"Hmmm." Lila stared out the window, deep in thought.
This better work, Helga thought as she pulled the car in front of the McGavin household. And I better be able to survive it to enjoy my reward. She honked the horn and a few seconds later a young girl walked out. Mickey McGavin looked relatively happy until she spotted the girl in the passenger's side of Helga's car. Her face twisted as if she had dung under her nose, and she kept the face as she climbed into the backseat.
"Hey, Mick," Helga said, giving her an it's-not-my-idea-or-fault look.
Mickey, who was never one to be subtle, or polite for that matter, greeted the two by snapping, "What the hell is she doing here?"
"Oh, it's ever so nice to see you too, Mickey," Lila said sarcastically.
Helga shot her a funny look. Maybe there is something of a real person in her. She shook her head. No, she just hates Mick. "I just have to drop her off at the movies. Then we can go to American Rival."
"Thank God," Mickey said as she lit a cigarette. "I wasn't exactly looking forward to spending a night with Miss Priss, queen of the prudes." She took a long puff and blew smoke rings at the back of Lila's head. "I'd rather shove needles in my eyes."
"Like I'd want to hang around you either," Lila snapped. Clearly she hated to be around anyone who so openly despised her. "Do you have to smoke that in here?"
"Awe, the princess doesn't like the smoke," Mickey said in a mock baby tone. "Too bad it's Helga's car, and she could care less."
Lila made a face, and Helga smiled. Served her right for coming along in the first place.
Five minutes of silence followed. Helga pulled the car in front of the cinema. Lila's friends' jaws dropped as they watched her emerge from Helga's car.
"Thank you for the ride, Helga. And I'll think about what you said," Lila said sweetly as she left.
Mickey moved into the front seat. "Thank God she's gone. And what did you say to her?"
"Tie a rock to your foot and jump off James's Pier."
"Nice."
Helga shrugged and drove to American Rival, a club in downtown Hillwood City that specialized in rock of any kind, and allowed local garage bands to show off their talents. It was easily Helga's favorite place in the world.
The two walked in, and amazingly, in such a crowded space, Helga easily picked out a cornflower-haired boy sitting at a table with three other boys. "Found 'em, Mick!" she called over the house-band's cover of Andrew W. K.'s "She is Beautiful." She walked up behind the football-headed boy and whispered in his ear, "Don't choke like you did last time."
Arnold's head snapped around, and he glared at her. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Hey! That's no way to treat a lady!" Quincy Maddux yelled at Arnold. He grabbed Helga around the waist and pulled her to his side. "Helga's been to nearly every show. She's our good luck charm."
"And you just want to get Helga to swap some spit with you," Mickey said.
The group laughed, save Arnold.
"Lighten up, man. You'll be fine," Kyle Rosdale said as he twirled a drumstick in his right hand while he messed up his dusty blond hair with his left.
"Easy for you to day," Arnold snapped as he practiced cords on his guitar. "And Helga's no lady."
"Would you give it a rest?" Corbin Jeffries said without looking up before Helga could open her mouth. "I'm trying to write a song here."
Helga and Arnold's eyes met briefly before they both turned away. Helga sighed. Corbin had moved to Hillwood six years pervious, and because he was Helga and Arnold's close friend, he had seen every fight between the two since then. In fact, he was one of the few who knew Helga's feelings for Arnold. "Sorry," she said nonchalantly.
"Sure you are," he said sarcastically. He smiled at her and handed the napkin he had been scribbling on. "Here, what do you think?"
Helga skimmed the lyrics and handed it back to him. "Needs work."
"Doesn't it always?" He stuffed the paper in his back pocket.
Helga laughed softly and caught Arnold staring at her with a strange expression on his face. She frowned. "What?" she asked as she pushed herself away from Quin who was in the middle of a conversation with Mickey and Kyle.
He blinked a couple of times. "Oh, uh, so, how was your dinner with Lila?"
She raised an eyebrow in effort to look like she could not care less, but her insides ran cold and her heart filled with sadness. "How'd you know she was over?"
He shrugged. "I have my sources."
"You know, Arnoldo, I feel I should tell you stalking is illegal."
He smirked. "That's why I got you to do it for me."
She rolled her eyes.
"So, any progress?" he asked hopefully.
"You are really pathetic, you know that?" she snapped. She was alone with him (well, as alone as you could get in a crowded club), and all he could think about was her. "Miracles don't happen over night."
"So you didn't do anything? Helga!"
"Don't piss your pants. Lordy! I did some stuff, but do we have to talk about that now?"
His face brightened, and he dropped the subject.
Helga leaned against Quin's chair, her good mood quickly disappearing. This will take time, she thought. That usually means it will be hard.
Arnold noticed Helga's change in mood. "You okay?"
She looked at him through eyes that did not seem to be her own. "Yeah, I'm fine."
He continued to stare at her, but a man suddenly popped up behind her and said, "Called Strike Three, you're up in five."
"Let's go, guys," Corbin said as he got up from the table.
"Enjoy the show, ladies," Quin said as he left, Kyle pushing him away from Helga and Mickey.
"Well, I got to go," Arnold said, standing up.
"Don't mess up this time, Hair Boy."
"Right," he said as he walked away, not listening to what she was saying as nervousness took over.
Helga watched the boys play. Mickey kept talking about how Corbin sounded a lot better now that he was over his cold, but Helga could only stare at Arnold. He was playing flawlessly as if something had awoken in him to give him more confidence. Helga clasped a hand to the locket on her chest. I swear you will realize that you have feelings for me, Arnold, and that I'm really not that bad. I'll make you see the real me, even if I have to lose you.
A/N: I know that Mr. Sawyer has no first name in the series. It's just easier if he has a first name, so I gave him one. Briefly thought about Tom, but I decided to put a little effort into it. Anyways, I'll be updating as soon as I can, but "Where to Begin" will probably be updated first. Oh yes, buy Something Corporate's new cd, North. Seriously, it is amazing. They are one of the best little-known bands out there, so check 'em out. Later days.