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A Sure Thing

Chapter 10 – Shatterday

Helga closed her eyes. If she concentrated hard enough, she could still feel Arnold's lips on hers. Her body filled with so much happiness she felt as if she was shaking. She could not remember the last time was so happy. After all, Arnold was falling in love with her; she could feel it.

"Miss Pataki!"

She snapped out of her daydream, only to realize every eye in her Economics class was staring at her. She caught Lila's eye, and Helga got an idea. "Yes, Mr. Caulfield?" she asked in a voice much higher than her own as she twirled her hair and flashed a 1000 watt smile. My God, how can people smile like this? My face hurts already.

"What is the market clearing price for product B?" he asked, clearly not noticing her act, or realizing that it was an act.

Her guard fell. "We're in that chapter?" she asked, frantically turning the pages in her text book.

"Yes, Miss Pataki. I suggest you pay attention. Now, who knows the answer?" he asked, turning his attention away from Helga.

She glared at the old man as he moved on to torture a boy who was half asleep. She sighed. What did it matter, considering she hated Economics? Stupid class.She slipped back into her daydream, this time she was dancing with Arnold to a cheesy pop song under cheesy prom decorations. That would be just like heaven.

"Miss Pataki?"

"Huh?"

"The bell has rung," Mr. Caulfield said dryly.

Helga looked around at the empty classroom. "Right. Have a good day."

"You too, Helga. And don't forget to read chapter fourteen!" he cried as she rushed down the hallway. Helga, however, was long gone, rushing to helpfully run into Arnold. Move, she thought as she tried to move past Lila and one of her friends. Why do I always seem to get caught behind people who can't walk?

"Yeah, Arnold and I are going out tonight. He's surprising me."

Helga's blood ran cold. She had forgotten Arnold was going on a date with Lila. She suddenly did not want to see him or think about him, although she knew that both were impossible. Tears rushed to her eyes as she ran into the bathroom. She locked herself in a stall and pulled out her cell phone.

"Yo, it's Cory, and who ever this is you are lucky the bell just rang."

"Sorry," Helga sniffed.

"Helga? Helga, what's wrong?"

"Everything."

Nothing could ruin Arnold's mood, not even his upcoming date with Lila. He had gotten an A+ on his Calculus test, practice was cancelled, and he had just hours earlier kissed Helga. That alone made it one of the greatest days. He whistled while he walked, embracing the great feeling he had admitting to himself how much he cared about Helga. And, Lord-almighty, that was the most amazing kiss of his life!

He let himself into the loft above Cory's garage. Cory was sitting in the window, writing on a notepad, and Kyle was yelling at Quincy to stop banging on his drums. Quin stopped banging when he saw Arnold. " 'Bout time." He frowned. "What's up with the get up? You look like you just stepped outta the movie Wall Street," he said, snickering.

Arnold looked down at his blue suit and tie. "Oh, I have a date with Lila and she wants me to take her someplace nice."

"Really?" Cory asked with a slight edge in his voice.

"Yeah." Arnold frowned. Cory was usually mellow and cared little about anything but music when he was in the loft.

Kyle shoved Quin off the seat. "Is that why you can't take that stupid grin off your face? You're finally getting some?"

Arnold laughed as he grabbed a guitar. "Ah, no."

"Then what?" Quin asked as he tested a new base line."

"I, uh, kissed Helga today," he said simply.

Kyle dropped his sticks and Quincy stopped playing on a sour note. Corbin, however, did not even look up.

"What? When?" Quin demanded.

"Today at school." Arnold chuckled. "It was amazing."

"I'll say. You sound like a girl," Kyle muttered. "Wait, but you're going with Lila tonight."

Arnold rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know, but I'm gonna tell her I'm not interested in her anymore."

"Never thought he'd mutter those words," Quin said under his breath.

"Neither did I. Tell me, Arnold," Corbin finally rose and walked over to Arnold. "When did Johansson's nasty habits rub off on you?" he sneered.

Cory's face was blank as usual, but his eyes were blazing, full of anger. "What are you getting at?" Arnold asked, taking a step back.

"Oh, let's see, Johansson had a perfectly wonderful girl but needed some things on the side, too. So, Arnold, which girl are you planning on screwing and who are you planning on screwing over?"

Arnold's jaw dropped. "I would never do that. I care about her too much."

"And Gerald didn't care about Phoebe? Caring has nothing to do with it."

"I care about Helga!"

Cory took a step forward. "What about Lila? Do you care about her too?"

"Well, yeah, but not like I do about Helga."

Cory scoffed. "Coulda fooled me, especially since you've been chasing after Lila like a chicken with his head cut off for the past eight years."

Arnold felt his blood boil. "This is different!"

"Is it, Arnold?" It was more a challenge than a question.

"Yes!" Arnold cried. Kyle and Quin watched, stunned, from behind him. He was breathing heavy, unable to phantom what brought this on. He know Cory might still have strong feelings for Helga, but if he did he usually wrote a song or two, not explode like this.

Cory leaned in. "Then tell her that." He stepped back and looked at the clock. "You better get going. You don't want to be late for your date." He went back to the window and resumed writing.

Arnold started at Kyle and Quin, who merely looked confused. Arnold suddenly got it. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." He ran out the door to the nearest pay phone and dialed Lila's number.

"Sawyer residence, Ellen speaking," came a very perky voice through the speaker.

"Mrs. Sawyer, it's Arnold."

"Arnold, it's so nice to hear from you, and call me Ellen, dear. I'll get Lila for you."

"No, I don't have time. Just tell her something came up and I had to cancel. I'll make it up to her, I promise, but I have to go."

"Arnold, is it really that bad? She was really—"

"I'm sorry. I have to go." He hung up and hailed a cab, secretly hoping Lila would spend the night talking about him with Ellen, who would convince her to dump someone so rude and poor. From what Helga tells me about her, that'd be right up her ally. "Ocean avenue," he told the driver.

Fifteen minutes later, he arrived outside Helga's building. He rushed inside were Marquis and another doorman were stationed. "Where's Helga?" he demanded from Marquis between gasps of breath.

The older man looked at him as if he was something disgusting that needed to be squashed by a tissue and thrown in the toilet. "Miss Pataki is not available."

Arnold slammed his fist on the counter, not caring how irrational he was being. "Where is she? Where can I find her?"

Marquis blinked for a moment, quite startled. "Miss Pataki is –"

"She's out with her friend Mickey," the other doorman said as he glared at Marquis.

"Thank you," Arnold yelled as he rushed outside.

After two hours, he finally arrived at the American Rival, which is where Arnold figured he should have started his search. This, however, led to another twenty minutes of searching through the club for Helga. He found Mickey first.

"Where's Helga?" he cried over the music.

"Why do you want to know?" Mickey yelled back, glaring at him.

Arnold desperately looked around for Helga. He did not necessarily like Mickey that much. She made him nervous, for she was even more unpredictable and volatile than Helga, and she did not seem to like him too much either.

"I need to talk to her. It's important."

"I'm sure it is. Where's your little Lindsay Lohan at?"

"I'm not with her. Please, where's Helga?"

Mickey's eyebrows went up. "Really? That's a surprise. She get bored with you already?"

Helga came up behind her friend and grabbed her, obviously not seeing Arnold. "Hey, Pink Bullet's getting ready to play. Let's go."

"Helga!" Arnold cried, not caring how dorky or desperate he sounded. He was in much too deep to care about that.

She looked at him, stunned, like a deer in headlights before quickly regaining her cool. "What do you want?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

Mickey slipped out of the middle. "I'll be up towards the stage, Helga." Helga did not acknowledge her.

"I came to talk to you," he said as soon as Mickey left. Around him people were bumping into him and Helga as they tried to get closer to the stage.

"Where's Lila?" she asked, her arms folded across her chest.

"I don't know. I cancelled our date."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? Why?" She frowned. "You'll never get her now."

"Great."

"What?" she looked genuinely confused. She said something after that, but Arnold could not hear her as the band began to play and the crowd roared. He lightly grabbed her arm. "Can we go outside?"

She nodded and followed him out. "What do you mean? Do you not care about ruining your chances with Lila?"

He smiled at her. "I, uh, I discovered that Lila just wasn't what I thought she was."

Helga snorted. "I could've told you that. In fact, I think I did," she said coldly.

He laughed nervously. "Yeah, well, you know me. I'm a little dense."

"A little?"

"Hey now," he rubbed his neck nervously. "Anyway, I, uh, I–I…"

She tilted her head and stared at him. "Developed a stutter?"

"I like you, Helga. I, uh, really do," he finished lamely. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, which seemed to make sense because he was sure his heart had stopped.

She stopped smiling. "What about Lila?" she asked quietly.

He chuckled to himself. "What about her indeed. I personally don't care anymore."

She frowned. "So I helped you for nothing?"

He smiled. "I somehow doubt you helped for nothing or that reason alone."

Helga stared at him, her face blank. It was too hard to try to find out what she was thinking. "Meaning?"

"I think you like me too."

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "That's bold, Hair Boy. A little too bold, actually." She stomped her foot as he gave her no response. "Don't you dare look at me like that, Arnold! I'm not anymore interested in you than I am in plucking my eyelashes out. My intentions were pure, thank you very much."

Arnold rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, Helga. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy that kiss today."

Her eyes flared up. "Yes! What the hell was that today, anyways?"

"I wanted to kiss you," he said simply.

"Right. Anyways, I only let you kiss me because I was humiliated, because of you, if you can remember. Because I did something nice for you." She turned around. "I'm sick of this conversation. Go find Lila and suck on her face, for all I care."

Arnold spun her back towards him and lowered his lips to hers. She pulled quickly apart. "Are you serious?"

"Helga, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

She stared at him for a moment before melting into his arms. Around them people filed in and out of the club, but all they were aware of was each other.

Helga leaned against the brick as she slipped her hands into the pocket of Arnold's baseball hoodie. Oasis's Wonderwall played on the stereo that Arnold had brought out, and she faintly hummed while she stared at the stars. She felt both jittery and eerily calm at the same time. It was as if she was meant to be here at this moment and that nothing could stop her from being with Arnold.

"Here," Arnold said as he handed Helga a cup of tea. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes, thank you," she said shyly.

Arnold slid down beside her. It was nearly midnight, and the city was still moving down below. He, however, was only aware of the girl beside him. "I didn't know you were an Oasis fan."

She nodded as she swallowed her tea. "Yeah, I love this album." She took another drink. "I'm a sucker for great songs and Noel Gallagher is a fabulous writer."

Arnold raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah. I love poetry, and really that's what music is: a poem with a melody."

Arnold chewed his bottom lip. "So, why'd never date Corbin? He seems perfect for you."

"I did."

Arnold nearly choked. "What? When?"

Helga stared off into space. "Oh, beginning of sophomore year." She caught his anxious look. "But I decided I only was interested in being friends. Just because something seems perfect for you, it doesn't necessarily mean it is." She put her tea down and hugged her knees. "Cory's a great friend. A really great friend, actually." She paused. "But that's all."

He nodded.

"Phoebe called yesterday," she said after a silence, dramatically changing the conversation.

Arnold turned to her. "Really? How's she?" Arnold had not spoken to the girl since she moved during sophomore year.

"Good." Helga smiled. "She asked about you."

"And?"

"And I told her about how well you're doing in baseball and about our little wager."

Arnold laughed. "What's she say about that?"

Helga played with the strings of the sweatshirt. "That we are both crazy."

He chuckled a little. "Why's that?"

"Well," Helga struggled to find words. "She thinks you need to get over Lila and that I need to stop with all my ulterior motives."

Arnold's eyes sparkled. "So there was an ulterior motive?" he teased.

"Mm-hmmm," she smiled. "But I can't tell you all of them, or else I'd have to kill you."

"Right." He pulled one of the strings out of Helga's mouth. "What else did she have to say?"

Helga turned so she faced his profile. "She asked about Gerald."

Arnold stiffened slightly. "What'd you say?"

She shrugged. "That he hasn't changed."

Arnold sighed. He could not even defend Gerald, because it was true. "How's she holding up with that?"

"Okay, I guess. I mean, it's been almost two years, but I think she's still in a lot more pain than she'll admit." She picked at her nails. "It kills me how long heartache can last."

Arnold said nothing. He had a feeling Helga was speaking from experience, but he did not want to pry. He frowned. She spoke as if she broke up with Cory, so if it was not him, who was it?

She clapped her hands together, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm sorry. I'm totally bringing the conversation down. What were we talking about? Oasis. And poetry." She smiled. "Did I ever tell you who my favorite poet is?"

He snorted. "You have favorite poet?"

"Yeah. Don't you?"

"No," he answered quickly.

"Well, whatever." She frowned. "Anyways, it's Pablo Neruda."

"Who? I've never even heard of him."

"Pablo Neruda. A Chilean romantic poet. He won the Nobel Prize," she said matter-of-factly. "You should borrow some of his books sometime. You'd like him, I think, seeing how as you are a hopeless romantic." She nudged him playfully with her leg.

"Well, I may not be so hopeless anymore," he said coyly.

Helga blushed. "So you're serious about you and me?" she asked, avoided his eyes.

"Helga, can you not tell I am?" he asked as he pulled her chin toward his. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"I may need a lot of convincing," she whispered, the butterflies returning to her stomach. She could not believe this was happening. Arnold wanted to date her, Helga G. Pataki. It was a dream come true.

He smiled. "Now that I can do."

Helga again felt Arnold's lips on her own, and as Arnold pulled her closer to him, she decided that all the pain she had ever felt was worth the bliss she was feeling at the moment.

Saturday, April 25

"I'm home!" Arnold cried as he entered the living room after practice.

"Take your shoes off, I just vacuumed!" Stella yelled from the kitchen.

Arnold sat down in the living room beside his father, shoes still on. "Hey."

"Hey, Arnold. How was practice?" Miles asked without looking up from his crossword.

"Good. Tiring, but good." He blinked several times. "I think I might take a nap. Coach was killer on us today to make up for yesterday." He closed his eyes and rested his head on the side of the couch. "I never want to miss another practice again."

"I'd be tired too if I was you."

Arnold opened his eyes and eyed his father. Somehow he doubted Miles was simply talking about his baseball practice. He flicked a piece of mud off the bottom of his cleat. "What's that?"

"Well, you got home well after one, which is well after curfew."

Arnold froze. He thought he had been in the clear yesterday when he used the fire escape to take Helga home and get back to his room. "I, uh, had to take Helga home," he said lamely.

"Mm-hmm," Miles muttered, still not looking up. "Who sang I wear my Sunglasses at Night?"

"Cory Hart."

Miles nodded. "Right." He chewed his pen as he read the next clue. "So what time did you leave to take her home?"

"Uh, one—ish."

"Mm-hmm. And how long were you at her house?"

Arnold wished his father would just get to his punishment. It would not be that bad. Stella was the discipliner. His father was somewhat of an aloof pushover. "Uh—" He stopped when he saw the twinkle in his father's eye. "Dad!"

Miles laughed. "Just don't break curfew." He ruffled his son's sandy hair. "Ah-ha, Trojans." He filled in the crossword. "Oh, and use protection if you, well, ya know."

Arnold shook his head. At least he knew his father would be cool with it if he and Helga ever had sex. Arnold's mind floated away, and he smiled in spite of himself. Now that's a nice thought.

"Arnold! I told you to take those off! Look at all the mud!"

"Sorry, Mom." He kicked his shoes off.

"Oh! You're making a bigger mess!" Stella was red in the face and had murder in her eyes. "Miles! Do something!"

"What, oh, Arnold, uh, go to your room."

"Miles!"

Miles remained concentrating on the crossword, only vaguely acknowledging the certain volcano that was sure to erupt around him. "What? Oh, go empty the dishwasher."

"MILES!"

He finally looked up and said as calmly as if he asked for the butter, "What, dear?"

"IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL A PUNISHMENT?" Stella put her hands on her hips to stop them from shaking. "Did you even ground him for breaking curfew?"

Miles looked confused. "You said to talk to him. You didn't say anything about a punishment."

"IT WAS IMPLIED!" She sighed and turned to her son. "Arnold, I don't care if you bring Lila here, but you need to be here and she needs to be at her house by one."

"Yes ma'am," Arnold said quickly, catching her mistake. If I get out of here quick, I won't have to hear it. "I understand. It won't happen again. I promise. I'll go clean my shoes outside now." He rose.

Miles looked at his wife and than at his son. "Lila? I thought Helga was here last night."

Damn. Arnold sat back down and groaned. He knew exactly what was coming.

Stella glared at him. "Helga?" she asked slowly. "I thought you were seeing Lila."

"I, uh, am, sorta," Arnold replied before realizing he had just made things worse.

"And Helga?"

"I'm dating Helga." It was like music to his ears.

Stella stomped her foot. "So you're dating two girls?" she demanded.

"Alright!" Miles cried.

"Miles!" She slapped him upside the head. "This is your encouragement? This was supposed to be your job, yours and Phil's! But no, no, you two are too busy fishing or doing crosswords or whatever else and now my son is a creep!"

Miles pointed to the crossword. "No, I meant I got it all right. The crossword. I haven't finished one all on my own in a long time," he finished softly.

Stella put a hand to her forehead. "Where are your parents anyways?"

"Tango lessons. Uh, Mom wants to be in shape for Cinco de Mayo."

She buried her head in her hands. "The man nearly dies of a stroke and can barely walk and she as a bad hip, but they must tango for a holiday they don't even celebrate," she muttered under her breath. She pulled her hands back to glare at the half-finished crossword before turning her attention back to Arnold.

"I'm planning on breaking up with Lila. I really want to be with Helga," he said quickly as the blood ran to his cheeks. "I care about her. A lot."

Stella's expression softened slightly. "Does Lila have any idea about Helga?"

"No," Arnold answered, his voice heavy with guilt.

"Well, do it soon, before it gets messier and you cause even more pain." She sighed, obviously torn from being happy for and disappointed in her only child.

"Yes ma'am."

"In fact, I'll cut you a deal. If you work in the backyard this afternoon, I'll let you to talk to Lila this evening."

"That's double punishment!"

She smiled. "I thought you'd like that." She grabbed the newspaper out of Miles's hands and hit him with it. "That is how you discipline a child." She pointed the rolled up paper at Arnold. "Now get to work." She threw the paper on Miles's lap.

"Oh man," Arnold whined after his mother was well out of earshot.

"You should be happy. She went relatively easy on you." Miles paused. "What movie starred real-life couple Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillippe?"

Arnold frowned. "Cruel Intentions."

All done. Arnold thought hours later. His back was aching, and he could feel a sunburn developing on his bare shoulders. He grabbed the rest of his water and poured it on his head.

"Now that's a sight I could get used to," a voice said from behind him. Helga was walking towards him, wearing a pair of short, white shorts and a pink halter. She looked very polished, and yet she seemed like her normal self.

Arnold blushed and quickly grabbed his t-shirt, which then stuck to his wet chest and back. "Hey, what are you doing here?" A smile appeared on his lips.

"Looking for you." She frowned. "Were you in trouble for getting back late?"

He nodded. "Yeah, and leave it to me to break curfew the night before the hottest day since 1932."

"I'm sorry," she said genuinely, although she could not help but smile a bit.

He shrugged. "Naw, it's alright. I woulda wound up here no matter what." He wiped his forehead. "What brings you over here?"

She pulled two tickets out of her pockets. "Ball game. Starts in thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes? Helga, even if my mom—"

"Isn't here," she said, her smile growing wider.

Arnold frowned. "What?"

"She took your father grocery shopping. Your grandfather said you'd worked hard enough for the day, and your grandma said to say hello to Mr. Churchill, and to tell my husband to hurry up and bring the troops home."

"What?"

"Oh, never mind." She crossed her arms and tapped her left foot impatiently. "Are you coming or what?"

"Well, yea, but I have to go change and—"

She looked him up and down. "What for?"

"Uh, Helga, I'm drenched in sweat and I haven't taken a shower since last night."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you think I care?" She grabbed his arm and pulled him across the yard. Arnold decided he had found the perfect girl. Damn, I was supposed to call Lila, he thought as he walked hand-in-hand with Helga.

What could another day hurt?

Monday, April 27

Arnold could not be in a better mood. He had spent a majority of the weekend with Helga, and it was by far the best weekend ever. They spent Sunday playing softball (he was sure Helga would be starting by the end of the week) and playing Parcheesi with his grandparents. Now all he had to do was officially ask her to date him and go to prom with him. That and tell Lila he was no longer interested in her. He finally called her Sunday night after Helga left and told her he had something important to tell her today. I might as well do it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

Gerald clapped him on the shoulder. "What's up with you? You acted like you were on E at practice, and you look the same now."

Arnold ignored the urge to say Helga recently talked to Phoebe. "Not E, H."

"Huh?"

Arnold shut his locker. "I spent the weekend with Helga."

Gerald paused to think. "On her literally?"

Arnold rolled his eyes. "No," he said bluntly.

"Oh." Gerald groaned. "Why'd you spend the weekend with Helga? Arnold, I know you said you were falling for her or something, but I figured that was just built up sexual tension from working with her so much. What about Lila?"

Arnold gave a small smile. "I—uh, am going to ask her to be my prom date."

Gerald clapped his hands. "About damn time. I was wondering when you'd get the balls to do it." He laughed. "Welcome back, man. I figured you'd just gone a little insane there for a few days. Now, this I have to see. You finally are asking Lila Sawyer." He hugged Arnold. "My little boy is growing up."

"Get off!" Arnold pushed a laughing Gerald away. "I meant Helga."

Gerald nearly choked on his gum. "What? Why? How? Ew!"

"I don't know. I just can't explain it. There's something about her that makes me feel, I dunno, whole."

"Well, you are going to haveta because I don't see how you could have come to this point." He gasped. "She brainwashed you!"

Arnold rolled his eyes again. "She did not, you idiot. I like Helga, and she likes me."

Gerald raised an eyebrow. "Kinda like how you liked Lila?"

Arnold frowned. "That was different. Trust me."

Gerald stared at him. "Fine. But what about Lila?"

Arnold shrugged. "I'm going to tell her the truth. I owe her that."

"The whole truth?" Gerald asked, looking at Arnold as if his best friend had lost all sense.

"Okay, the selected truth. She doesn't need to know everything that I feel about her."

"Uh, Arnold?" Gerald interrupted.

"I mean, that will just complicate things more. Neither of us need that, especially now."

"Uh, Arnold—" Gerald said louder.

"Gerald! Stop, please! I'm going to ask her to prom and to be my girlfriend and that's that! I'm—I'm falling for her, okay?"

He barely got the words out when he was nearly tackled from behind. "Oh, Arnold! I never thought you'd ask! Oh, I'm ever so happy!"

Arnold's heart stopped. He did not have to turn around to know who the girl was holding him was not the girl he was talking about. Especially since Helga was staring at him from across the hallway, her pain written all over her face.

What have I done?