Chapter 2: Si Tengo un Selecto (if i had a choice)
The classroom hummed with the sound of various students doing their own thing, awaiting the arrival of their teacher who, for some, had been following them up the academic chain for years.
Too many years.
Sitting at a desk in the back of the class sat Helga G. Pataki, a young blond girl who was scribbling in a notebook with a purple gel pen. She wore a pair of blue jeans and a light pink t-shirt that fit her form slightly well, if only because it was a hand-me-down that she'd been wearing for a couple years. She had long since pitched the pink jumper of her elementary school years. She'd also ditched the pigtails, her hair now swept back in a loose, thrown together braid with an oddly large pink bow at the end, and although her unibrow was not quite as thick, it was still there.
Helga paused a moment to glance toward the front of the classroom at a boy sitting in one of the front row desks who also had blond hair, but it stuck out strangely from the top of his head. Actually, his hair had been like that for as long as she could remember, which was pretty much her whole life.
She sighed a small, almost inaudible sigh as she gazed at him.
Arnold, the one and only boy who still had her heart in the palm of his hand, though he did not know it.
Even though his hair still stuck up, despite his efforts to change it in any way, Arnold's appearance had also changed. Once he hit puberty, he grew to be 5'11, two inches taller than Helga, who'd already gone through her growth spurt by then and stopped growing at twelve years old. Arnold still wore his plaid shirt, only he'd had one of the Sunset Arms' newer boarders shorten the sleeves for him with her sewing machine, and now wore it without the sweater during the warmer season, still un-tucked. He also wore a pair of faded blue jeans, the same he'd been wearing for almost two years now, so they fit him pretty well, and he refused to part with this particular outfit because it was so darn comfortable!
"Hey, Arnold."
Arnold turned to his long standing best friend, Gerald Johannsen, practically star of the high school basketball team. Though Arnold had grown, it was Gerald who shot up to 6'3, aptly nicknamed 'the Giant' on occasion. He'd been forced to cut his hair down to only three inches above his head, since his hair started reaching the ceiling and he was having trouble getting through doorways.
"I heard that new student Mr. Simmon's been talkin' about is coming today."
"I thought she wasn't going to be here until tomorrow?" Arnold replied, this subject only being slightly interesting because it was strange to have a new student enter the class when the school year was only two and a half months from being finished.
"Nope," Gerald shook his head. "My man Fuzzy Slippers is never wrong." Arnold knew better than to question Gerald's constant source of hidden information. As if on cueto Gerald's news, Mr. Simmons entered.
"Class, we have a new student today!" Mr. Simmons positively beamed as he walked into the classroom full of students, and they slowly made their way toward their seats to give him whatever small amount of attention they could muster.
Helga rolled her eyes at the announcement as she put her notebook and pen away. Most other students were unphased by this news, but there were a few whose interests was stirred.
Mr. Simmons looked behind him through the door in expectation, and there was a pause before the young brunette entered the room, once again clutching her school books tightly to her chest. She was obviously a complete bundle of nerves.
Oh brother, Helga couldn't help but think.
At the desk across from Helga sat Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, still the princess and keeper of the current fashion, as she was properly dressed in her form-fitting, properly styled Capri's and tank top. Her black hair was still short and cut to frame her face gorgeously. She blanched outwardly at the sight of the new girls' clothes.
Is she not completely dense, Rhonda thought with almost complete disgust. The new girl wore a small grey t-shirt and a blue and white tie-dyed wrap-skirt, obviously African or Indian made. But the girl seemed to be complete Caucasian. Though the outfit wasn't too bad, and definitely fit her figure -lanky though it was- her tattered black and white sketchers clashed almost painfully.
Arnold had unconsciously raised one eyebrow at the girl. She wasn't much to look at, at least not at that moment. He could tell just by looking at her that she was a nervous wreck, and slightly pale, too. But there was a shy purity to her face that almost made it glow, in a abnormal sort of way.
Gerald noticed his friend and cleared his throat, and Arnold, who realized he'd been staring, quickly averting his eyes.
"This is Isabel McKinley, she's just moved here from Michigan. Let's everybody give her a warm welcome!"
There was a low collection of hi's and hello's from around the room, but nothing close to a greeting that said she was incredibly welcome.
"Isabel, here's your very own special desk right here." Mr. Simmons said, pointing to the empty desk on the other side of Arnold, who smiled at her. Isabel didn't smile, or make any move toward the seat. Her eyes seemed to be cast on the floor, and then she looked up at Mr. Simmons, begging a silent question with her eyes.
Mr. Simmons, with an understanding expression, bent down slightly and spoke low and softly to her. Not only had the principal filled him in on all he knew of the girl, he'd also warned him about this.
What a whack job, thought Helga, crossing her arms over of her chest.
Finally, Isabel slowly made her way to the desk and slid onto the seat.
"Now then, let's get started..."
"I dunno, Gerald, maybe she's just shy." Sid said through a mouthful of food at lunch period.
"Or completely batty." Helga added with a slight laugh.
"Yeah, she does seem kind of strange...maybe she just needs someone to talk to." Said Arnold, the ever-present voice of reason as he looked over to where Isabel was sitting, which was a very odd place indeed.
Across the Mess Hall, on the floor next to the soda machine, sat Isabel. She had her tray sitting perfectly balanced on her crossed legs, and she lightly picked at her food with a fork, but didn't eat any of it. Arnold was pretty sure she hadn't eaten a single bite, and lunch period was half over already.
"I agree with Arnold." Phoebe said from her place next to Helga. She wore a pair of nicely fitting blue slacks and a light blue sweater that was three sizes too large over a white t-shirt. "It may simply be a case of social anxiety disorder." She continued.
"Or brain disorder." Helga said, which earned her a glare from Arnold.
"Maybe she's mute." Gerald said as he dabbed at his red #33 shirt, now sleeveless, with a wet wash rag where he'd spilled some of his soda.
"Mute?" Said a confused Lila. She was now slightly shorter than Arnold, and had yet to grow out of any of her freckles. She still had her braided pigtails and wore a pale-green jumper over a white t-shirt. Another outfit that Rhonda despised.
"Has anybody heard anything come out of her mouth yet?" Gerald said to prove his point.
"Maybe that's because no one's talked to her." Arnold said, still watching Isabel from where he sat.
"I have. I said hello to her in the ladies restroom." Phoebe stated.
"What did she say?"
"Nothing, she just gave a little smile, that's all."
"Well, at least she knows how to smile." Lila said optimistically.
"No one can make friends that way, though." Arnold said, seeming distressed.
"So why don't you go talk to her?" Gerald said, and Phoebe smiled.
"That's a wonderful idea, Gerald!"
Helga frowned. "What makes you guys think she'll talk to Arnoldo if she won't talk to anybody else?"
"Not to put Arnold on a pedestal, but he does seem to have a way with people in that area." Phoebe explained, and Arnolds face flushed slightly as he considered the option he'd been given. He knew from experience that he wasn't bad with fixing problems, but he didn't want people to think he could fix any problem. He decided maybe it'd be good to at least try to talk to her.
But by that time, he was too late...