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February fourteenth. Valentine's Day. It's just another normal, boring school day that I spend staring at the back of Helga's head.
Oh, how I wish I could spend even just one Valentine's Day with her. A romantic restaurant, a candlelit dinner, a moonlit stroll through the park. Even, dare I say it, a sweet kiss to finish off a perfect evening.
I would confess everything to her - the countless journal entries filled with romantic fantasies; the numerous pictures of her in my closet that I spend hours looking at; the fact that I can't keep my eyes off of her whenever she's nearby.
I would tell her that I love everything about her, from her beauty to her sweet personality and endless kindness. She would say that she loves me, too, that she has for a while now, but was simply too shy to tell me. Then, we'd become a couple, date throughout middle and high school, get married, and...
"Arnold... Arnold... are you paying attention, Arnold?" Ms. Slovak's voice interrupts my daydreaming.
"Oh, sorry, Ms. Slovak," I say, quickly, making sure to focus on the lesson.
"Now, as I was saying, it's time to make our Valentines. You can give them to whoever you choose - family, close friends, perhaps even a special someone that you care very deeply for."
I look over at Helga, sighing like the lovesick fool that I am. I consider making her a Valentine, but there's no way I'd ever give it to her, for I'm far too shy to speak to her, let alone take her on a date. Instead, I spend the period doodling in my notebook and stealing glances at Helga, who's making a Valentine's of her own. I wonder who it's for.
She holds it up to show Phoebe. "What do you think of this, Pheebs? Do you think Ricky will like it?"
I have to stop myself from actually growling out loud. Of course it's for that stupid Ricky Sanders. That stupid, thirteen year old sixth-grader with his stupid good looks who has Helga pining for him like a lovesick puppy, even though he got held back a year.
"I'm sure he'll love it, Helga," says Phoebe as the two burst into barely suppressed giggles. "Do you think Gerald will like this?" adds Phoebe, holding up her own Valentine's.
"Of course he will, Pheebs. That boy's crazy about you." Helga's right - even a blind person could see how Gerald and Phoebe feel about each other.
Eventually, there's just three minutes left until lunchtime, and Ms. Slovak begins handing out our letters from our pen pals. Mine is simple, blunt, and to the point - please send money.
I look up just as the bell rings.
"Twelve o'clock, already? You can have yours after lunch, Helga," says Ms. Slovak, putting Helga's letter back into the bag as she dismisses the class.
We leave the classroom, and I head towards the playground, sitting at one of the benches with Gerald and the rest of the gang. From my spot, I notice the massive pile of Valentines that stupid Ricky has gotten from numerous girls at our school.
I try to pay attention as Gerald recites yet another urban legend to the gang, but I'm actually watching Helga, as she secretly drops her own Valentine onto Ricky's already gigantic pile.
That does it. There is no way my Helga is spending her Valentine's Day with that stupid Ricky.
An idea comes to mind as I remember our letters from our pen pals. Maybe I could pretend to be her pen pal, and tell her that I want us to meet in person for the first time.
I slip away from the group and rush into the classroom. Luckily, Ms. Slovak is nowhere in sight, so I retrieve Helga's letter from her pen pal Cory from the bag, and sit down to read it at my desk. It's a pretty standard letter filled with all the usual junk that pen pals write to each other about, nothing like mine constantly asking for money.
I think carefully about what I should write. I don't want to be too obvious or too forward, so I decide that it's probably best to keep it vague: Helga. I feel it's time for us to finally meet so I'm flying in to see you tonight for one night only. Please meet me at Chez Paris, tonight at six o'clock.
I sure hope this works.
For the rest of the day, my mind is spinning in circles with anxiety about the letter. What if Helga doesn't come? Or what if she comes and recognizes me? I do have a pretty distinctively shaped head after all. Maybe I can say I'm a distant cousin or something like that.
By the time five forty-five has finally rolled around, I'm seated at the water fountain, nervously waiting to see whether or not Helga will actually show up. Strangely, I see Ricky Sanders sitting alone at a table at the restaurant opposite Chez Paris. I wonder what he's doing here.
Fifteen minutes pass by until I finally see Helga approaching me.
She looks even more beautiful than she does every day. Her dress is in the same shade of pink as her bow, and stops just above her knees, with little puffy shoulder sleeves and a simple neckline. It sits loosely on her figure, causing it to swish slightly as she walks towards me. I stare at her as she approaches, completely breathless, and totally awestruck. She's so beautiful.
"Arnold? What are you doing here?" asks Helga, clearly surprised to see me. "I'm supposed to be meeting my pen pal Cory."
Time to stop staring and put my plan into action. "Oh, I am Cory. You probably just confused me with my cousin Arnold."
She holds up a picture of someone who must be the real Cory. "You two don't really look that similar."
"Oh, well we're very distant cousins," I say, laughing nervously. I take her hand and lead her towards the entrance. "Come on, let's go inside."
"Huh, I didn't know Arnold had a cousin in California," she says as we enter the restaurant. I make sure to hold the door open for her and pull out her seat for her at the table. Grandpa always taught me to be a gentleman.
"Thank you, Cory," says Helga, smiling warmly at me. Man, I love that smile, especially when it's directed at me.
"You know, I almost feel like I know you from somewhere," says Helga, looking at me curiously.
"What do you mean? We only just met," I say quickly, as I begin to panic slightly.
"I meant from your letters."
I let out a small sigh of relief as I realize that she hasn't caught on just yet. "Oh, right, of course."
A very rude waiter brings us water and takes our order. I watch Helga as she orders, just admiring everything about her.
Helga glances up and through the window, as if noticing something outside. "Would you excuse me for a moment, Cory? I just need to go to the bathroom."
She rushes off, and I try to think of something to say when she returns. Should I tell her how I feel about her?
Helga reappears a few minutes later, smiling sheepishly at me. "Sorry about that. The line for the bathroom was really long."
"So, Helga, is there anyone you particularly like in your class? Perhaps a funny, smart, handsome boy?" I ask, desperate to know whether or not she notices me at all and, if she does, what she thinks of me.
"A boy?" She asks in return, seemingly a little surprised by my question. "Well, there is this one boy, Arnold."
So she does know I exist! "Really? What in particular do you notice about him?" I know it's quite forward, but the fruit is dangling from the tree, and it's far too tempting not to take it.
"Nothing in particular. He just seems really shy, and honestly, a little weird sometimes." I try to hide my disappointment. "But, I'm sure he's probably really nice."
I perk up a little at her statement just as our food arrives. I take a bite, but something must be wrong with my meal, since the sudden overwhelming urge to throw up suddenly comes over me. "Excuse me!"
I rush to the bathroom, and spend a good five minutes puking up whatever weird French food I must have ordered. When I get back to the table, Helga is nowhere in sight. Did she leave?
I wait for a few minutes, but when she doesn't return, I decide it's time to leave, declaring the night a huge failure. Just as I'm standing up from my seat, Helga rushes through the door.
"Sorry, I had something to take care of," she says with an apologetic smile.
I have no idea what that means, but I decide to ignore it, just relieved that she didn't in fact leave.
Dessert comes and goes as we talk about anything and everything. As we leave the restaurant, I become bold enough to take her hand in mine; it's so soft and delicate. I'm happily surprised when she doesn't pull her hand away, and I have to resist the urge to let out a lovesick sigh.
We've only taken a few steps when somebody suddenly jumps in front of us. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Helga," he says.
"Who are you?" asks Helga, clearly not knowing who this person is.
"I'm Cory! Surprise!" he says, excitedly. "I flew in from California to finally meet you in person. Didn't you see my letter?"
"But, you can't be Cory because he's Cory," says Helga, gesturing towards me.
I struggle to explain myself as Helga and the real Cory look at me in confusion. "Well, you see... the thing is..."
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Phoebe steps in and approaches Cory. "Hi, I'm Helga."
"You're Helga?" asks Cory, just as confused as both myself and Helga.
"That's right. Would you like to get some ice cream?" offers Phoebe, taking him by the arm.
"Sounds great," he replies as the two walk away down the street, arm in arm.
There's an awkward pause as I try to think of an explanation for impersonating her pen pal.
"Talk about a crazy night, huh?" I look at the pavement, shuffling my feet nervously.
"Yeah, definitely," agrees Helga. I glance up at her, wondering what she's thinking about right now. "There's just one thing I need to know - who are you?"
She looks at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, and for a brief moment, I seriously consider telling her the truth. But, deep down, I know I'm too scared to do that, so I decide against it. "I can't tell you."
"Why not?" She asks.
"I just can't okay!" I say, slightly louder than I meant to.
"Okay, I guess," says Helga, her voice just as kind and understanding as always. She places a hand on my shoulder, looking at me with hope in her eyes. "Will I ever see you again?"
"Oh, probably," I answer, keeping it simple since I don't want to give anything else away.
"I just want to let you know that this has been the best Valentine's Day I've ever had," says Helga, casting that brilliant smile of hers my way.
"Me too, but I have to go now," I say, reluctantly.
"Well, we'll always have Chez Paris." Helga leans in, and kisses me softly on the cheek, causing me to blush as red as my bow tie.
"Goodbye, Helga." I watch her walk away, until she turns the corner, and out of sight. I begin to make my own way home, thinking about the craziest, yet most wonderful Valentine's Day of my young life.
"She likes me, she really likes me!" I say to myself, overwhelmed with happiness and giddiness, until I realize something. "Wait a minute, she doesn't like me - she likes Cory. Well, not the real Cory, me Cory, so she does like me!" I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "Oh, man, I'm a basket case!"