Chapter 4: Geek Went A'Courtin'
When Arnold got home that afternoon, he decided to give Curly a call. He was the only other person who had spoken with her, after all. Arnold and Curly were pretty casual friends, especially when they reached high school and Curly no longer muttered to himself about the whole Ball Monitor incident. He had actually gotten slightly more sane, but was still a little crazy, and still considered himself to be the top Ladies Man in Hillwood.
"Hello?" Came a woman's voice on the other end of the phone line. She sounded drowsy, as if she'd just woken up.
"Hi, is Curly there?"
"Yeah...sure..."
Arnold heard a sudden crack in the receiver as it was apparently dropped onto a table or something, then softly retreating footsteps. Arnold jumped a little when he heard Curly's mother screech his name at the top of her lungs, as if she was calling across a twenty-acre park. Muffled words, then footsteps.
"Hello?"
"Hey Curly, it's Arnold."
"Hey, man. What's up?"
"I was just wondering about something, and I thought maybe you could help me out a little."
"OK, shoot."
"You talked to Isabel today at lunch period, didn't you?"
"Yeah...What, you like her or somethin'?"
Arnold couldn't help but roll his eyes a little, even if the note in Curly's voice was a little odd when he said it, almost defensive.
"No, actually, I was wondering what exactly you guys talked about. I mean, if you don't want to say, that's fine. I don't want to impose or anything-"
"No sweat, Arnold. I did most of the talking, actually. Just introducing myself and such, she didn't say much, no entire sentences or anything."
"Oh."
"She is kinda odd, though."
"Yeah, she only just started coming to school today." Arnold said, remembering the way she'd looked when Curly walked up to her, almost like a tiny kitten cornered by a pit bull.
"Do you know if she talked to anybody else." He asked.
"I don't think so, but someone told me they saw some of the older guys messin' with her." Curly said.
"Huh? Who told you that?"
"Harold, why?"
"Forget it. Thanks a lot, Curl. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Ok, see ya, man."
After hanging up, Arnold picked up the phone again and dialed Harold Barman's number. Harold, like everyone else, had changed. He'd lost a lot of weight shortly after hitting puberty, but unfortunately hadn't grown much taller than he already was, now standing a couple inches shorter than Arnold. He was strong though, a prime football player who'd replaced his access pounds with muscle.
Arnold waited, and the phone rang four times before it was answered.
"Yeah?"
"Hi, is this Harold?"
"Yeah, who's this?"
"It's Arnold."
"Oh, hey, Arnold."
"Curly said you had seen some guys messing with that new girl, Isabel."
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Do you know who it was?"
"Some Senior guys, I think. I don't know who it was."
"Did they do anything to her? You know, they didn't hurt her or anything did they?"
"I don't know. I'd have given them guys a good sock in the gut if I could have, but I was on the bus. It left before I could see anything."
Crap, Arnold thought.
"Ok, thanks anyway, bye."
"Bye."
Arnold hung up the phone, walked into the kitchen, and sat heavily into one of the kitchen table chairs, frowning. Now he would be forced to wait until tomorrow to find out anything else.
The next day at school, Arnold could barely concentrate on his work, with Isabel sitting right across from him and all. Even if he wasn't looking straight at her, he could tell she was shaking. At one point, Mr. Moore had mentioned to Arnold about him not paying attention.
Helga had noticed it too.
"This is really eating you, isn't it?" Gerald said at lunch that day, and Arnold sighed, taking a rather large bite of his hotdog.
"I don't know why, I just can't get her off my mind. She's so odd..." He said after he'd swallowed, letting his sentence trail as he glanced across the Mess Hall to where Isabel sat, once again, on the floor near the soda machine, alone.
"Maybe try talking to her again, see if she'll lighten up." Gerald suggested.
"I tried that already today, twice."
"Well, I don't know, man. Maybe you should just lay off."
"What good would that do?" Arnold asked, frowning slightly.
"I dunno."
"You think maybe she's got a bad home life or something?" Arnold suggested.
"Want me to check it out for ya?"
"Yeah. Not any personal stuff, maybe just basic, like if she was abused, or... or a foster kid or something." Arnold said. He didn't like to pry into peoples personal lives too much.
"No problem, man."