I just wanna give a forewarning that the next 2 chapters will deal with the awkwardness that is puberty so be advised.

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Let me start you out with two words that can describe how my day went.

Swimming Class.

That's right. Since it's winter and all, we've started using the new indoor pool that was installed over the summer and let me tell you, swimming class is a joke for a variety of reasons.

And for YOUR convenience, I'll list the bogus reasons just for your reading pleasure.

A) We have to go to swimming class 2 days out of the week. It's supposed to get us used to the swimming classes we'll have to endure every OTHER day when we're in middle school. Ridiculous.

B) Introduce the LOCKER ROOM AKA the most AWKWARD PLACE KNOWN TO MAN. I'll get to THAT later.

C) The class is CO-ED which means we have to swim with the guys who gawk at our newly forming bodies only making the whole thing even MORE awkward than it has to be.

And finally, D) Who the heck cares about swimming ANYWAY? I mean, unless you're gonna be some world class swimmer or something, why is it something us sixth graders have to be the only ones who have to endure it? Literally, we are the ONLY class, and the FIRST class who has to start this lame tradition of swimming class. PLUS the teacher of it isn't even our gym teacher, mind you, it's our SCIENCE teacher who used to be a swimmer in college or something. So what even, I ask you? What's the actual point?

Now that THAT'S all out of my system, let me talk a little bit more about the locker rooms and swimming class itself and the horrors of both of them.

Let's start with the locker room since it's the first step and the first of the terrors that await in that which is swimming class.

First of all, there's a warden of the locker room named Shirley and she's made of pure evil. She wanders around the small room full of tall red lockers watching everyone to make sure that nobody is goofing off or checking their phones while getting ready for either gym or swimming.

Wait, wait, wait. I forgot to mention. There's TWO locker rooms. One for gym class, and one for swimming. Both are awkward, but the swimming one is significantly worse. I'll talk about the gym one first.

So Shirley walks around, checking to make sure nobody is on their phones or goofing off or what have you. She carries around a brush that was left behind from ages ago and slaps it on her hand with each step she takes like a literal jail warden, which is where she gets her nickname, and tells us to hurry along every now and again as we rush to cover our half-naked bodies with our smelly gym clothes and rush to the gymnasium just down the hall.

It's like cattle being rounded up.

Then there's the SWIMMING locker room which is significantly smaller than the regular locker room. We all scramble to get one of the top lockers so we don't have to bend down to toss our stuff in the small lockers as we take our clothes off anxiously in hopes nobody will look at our blossoming bodies. Silence falls over the room as we itch to throw on the swimming suits as quickly as possible in hopes nobody will catch a sight of flesh that ought not to be seen by anyone... at least not at this point in our young lives. Much to Rhonda's dismay, we are each issued a used swimming suit that looks uniform to the rest in all different sizes hung up on a rack in the room. They're old, all blue, and one pieces at that that cover every inch of our unmentionables.

After dressing ourselves with the ugly swimming suits, we hurry through the shower area and to that of the swimming pool where the boys flock out of their equally small (I imagine) locker room wearing swimming trunks that are all black and uniform to each other just like our suits. But unlike their suits, ours hug our bodies and we'd be fools not to see them eyeing our forms as we walk out of the locker room doors and head for the box full of swimming caps the girls are forced to wear to cover our heads of hair so that not even a strand enters the pool itself.

Rhonda and a few of the other girls flaunt about the pool before entering, of course, to show off their slim figures and proud physique while the rest of us jump into the pool as fast as we possibly can in hopes that the chlorine-filled waters will cover up our bodies to hide them from the eyes of the boys until we begin our laps and other such foolish activities that we are forced to perform just to get a good grade.

And then there's the lucky few- the lucky few who, every few weeks or so, have their periods (or so they SAY) and they get to walk laps around the pool in their gym clothes while the rest of us swim back and forth in our lanes in the pool from shallow to deep depending on our swimming capabilities. Of course, Shirley kept track of those periods on her calendar to make sure girls weren't lying just to get out of swimming class which is ridiculous even though I'd heard around the rumor mill that it had been done on the rare occasion.

Me? I haven't had the privilege (HA) to get my period yet so I'm perpetually stuck in the middle lane next to Arnold's lane ironically. There's some comfort and humility in that somehow as I'm not yet ready to show Arnold my growing body or the way its lanky figure looks with a wet suit hugging my body like how my flesh does to my bones.

The worst part of swimming class, however, is getting done with it. You have to get out of the pool and rush to get to a towel to cover yourself so nobody sees your body now that the suit is practically attached to you. We run (though the teacher always yells at us not to) to hit the showers which is even MORE awkward cause NOBODY (except Rhonda and her crew of crazies) actually full-on showers and we all usually avoid them because, get this, they didn't even give us CURTAINS for privacy. So then we make it to the locker room where we struggle to get the sticky suits off of us while holding the towels as openly as we can to cover our bodies while we change back into our clothes, smothered with the smell of chemicals for the rest of the day. It's miserable.

I don't know what it's like for the guys, but for the girls it's a shamefest. We're so scared of showing our bodies to one another (well, SOME of us that is) and to the boys, that the entire class is just a class of misery fueled by embarrassment hinted with a dash of actual knowledge that it hardly seems like it should be a class at all.

And THAT'S why I hate swimming class and winter altogether.

I'll have to ask Arnold what HE thinks of swimming. That is, if he forgives me for my crazy outburst from the other day.

Already ready for spring,

Helga G. Pataki

So after I apologized to Arnold for being so horrible to him the other day, I talked to him about what he thought about swimming class. Turns out we have some of the same fears and I didn't even realize it.

We sat in his room, working on homework, when I turned to look at him while chewing on my pen's cap. "Hey Arnold?" I asked and he turned to face me.

"Hmm?" He hummed and I dropped my pen to my side to fiddle with it between my fingers.

"So that uh... that swimming class, huh?" I said and he raised his brow at me.

"What about it?"

"Well I don't know!" I snapped before stopping and turning my head down to look at the pen as I continued to fidget with it. "I mean... I guess I just really hate it, you know?"

"Why's that?" He wondered and I shrugged my shoulders feeling timid and afraid of my own words.

"I guess," I started, "I guess because it's so... WEIRD, and all. I mean...making us parade around like that."

Arnold furrowed his brow in confusion. "Like what?"

"Maybe you don't get it because all YOU have to wear is swim trunks but US? We have to wear those GOD AWFUL swimming suits and-"

"How are they any different than a swimming suit you'd wear at the beach?" Arnold interrupted me and I turned to look up at him in surprise at his point.

"I mean, well, I GUESS you're right, but there's something about those USED gross things that EVERYBODY wears. And having to wear them at school in front of... of EVERYONE. People I wouldn't normally wear them in front of. Maybe I'm not comfortable wearing a swimsuit anymore. At least not now." I mumbled and Arnold nodded his head while setting his book aside and turning to face me completely.

"Helga, are you trying to say that you're uncomfortable with being around us boys?" He asked and blush rose to my cheeks as I solemnly nodded my head.

"It's just a little embarrassing is all," I finally said and he sighed while nodding his own head.

"Trust me, I understand."

"You-you do?" I asked and he smiled over to me in almost a sad way.

"I really do. You know, it isn't the easiest for us guys either. Some of us are uncomfortable with our bodies too and wish we didn't have to go to swimming class either. At least you girls have the option of walking around the pool instead." He said blindly and I rolled my eyes while crossing my arms.

"If you really think we have the option to just walk around versus swimming, then you're even more dense than I thought," I stated and he looked at me, confused.

"Well then why do the girls get to walk and the boys don't?" He asked and my eyes widened as I realized he really didn't know.

But of COURSE he didn't know. It wasn't like his grandparents told him about the ways of a woman's body or his freshly brought-back parents. And it wasn't like he had an older sister like I had to tell me what my future body would bring me when it came to puberty.

Then again, I wasn't the one who was about to tell Arnold all about periods and other such things. I'd leave that to the professionals for the upcoming weeks when health class would cover that topic. For now, I just sat on his bed and stared at him with wide eyes before shaking my head out of my thoughts and taking a deep breath. "We have our reasons, trust me," I told him and he seemed to accept that answer for now and nodded his head.

"Either way," he said, "Swimming class is just as awkward for us as it is for you, trust me."

"You really think so?" I asked him and he nodded his head while looking down at his lap.

"Especially in the locker room. I imagine ours is just... a lot different than yours. Guys can be... weird and overly confident about... about things."

"Things?" I asked and he nodded his head.

"And if they notice something about you that doesn't fit their image or does fit their image, well, they treat you differently and it can make things... uncomfortable."

I nodded my head thinking of Rhonda right away. "I get that," I said with a nod. "I TOTALLY get that. We have girls like that in our locker room."

"Let me guess... Rhonda?" He asked and I chuckled and pointed a finger in his direction.

"You hit the nail on the head, hair boy."

"Take my advice and don't let her get to you, okay?" Arnold advised, "Even if you were on her side of things, I wouldn't want you to turn into her. The grass isn't always greener just because you look like someone else."

"But I don't, even if I wanted to." I said while looking down and Arnold reached out to tilt my chin upward to face him and he smiled at me.

"I think you're perfect just the way you are, Helga." He said and I beamed as I looked at him, his words sinking into my every pore.

"Really?" I asked and he laughed a small laugh.

"One of these days, I'm going to get you to believe me, Helga G. Pataki," he said before letting go of my chin and letting me shudder at the lack of his touch.

"We'll see," I teased before we went back to homework and being quiet until dinner came around and we headed downstairs for our usual routine that had become the norm for us at least three times a week. It's funny, spending so much time with Arnold. You'd think he'd be sick of me by now but he never leads on that he is. I know I'LL never get sick of him, but I thought for sure he would of me but he never does.

I hope he never does. I don't know what I'd do if he ever did.

Feeling a little better,

Helga G. Pataki

Hi.

I think my hormones are acting up again and at full force this time. And unfortunately, they went to the wrong person this time. Alas, my victim to the poor hormone-infused craze was Stella who of course was understanding and all that, but I still feel bad about it.

I should probably give you some more details though, shouldn't I?

Ugh. Okay, okay, you talked me into it.

So there I was, standing in the kitchen with Stella helping to make stir fry by cutting up vegetables of various sorts while Stella fried up the meat in a pan on the stove.

"So how's school?" She asked and I frowned, shrugging my shoulders.

"Fine I guess," I stated blankly before redirecting the conversation and turning to face Stella. "Do you ever miss your adventures in the jungle and whatnot?"

"Sometimes, but I'm just happy to be home," she said with a smile while mixing the meat with some seasoning as it sizzled in the pan.

"Well Hillwood sucks," my words came out bluntly and Stella turned to face me with a confused look on her face.

"Why do you say that?" she asked and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I've been here my whole life. I know better than you." I returned my gaze back down to the snap peas I was cutting the tops off of, "No offense," I mumbled.

Stella chuckled while taking a taste of her meat mixture and adding another dash of seasoning. "Well you'll have your chance to experience the world. You're still young, you know." she told me but I shook my head defiantly.

"I doubt it," I said rather frankly, "I doubt I'll ever be able to leave this city."

"You will," Stella confidently replied but I continued to shake my head while moving on to cut a variety of peppers.

"But I won't!" I exclaimed, dropping the knife to the side of the cutting board loudly. "I'll be stuck here all alone." I insisted and Stella set her spoon down to the side of the pan and wiped her hands on her apron before turning to face me and sighing.

"I highly doubt that," she said calmly, "And besides, you don't know your future."

"But I do!" I continued to yell while tears began to well in my eyes, I'm just... just not good enough!" I finally admitted and Stella looked at my sympathetically while tilting her head to the side as she looked at me.

"Helga, you are good enough. Good enough by far." She told me earnestly, her voice warm and serious though I lashed out at her, my emotions getting the better of me.

"But what if I'm not, huh?" I demanded to know. "What if I'm not?!" I shouted mid-cry, my voice breaking as I spoke; my fists clenching at my sides with each word that left my mouth. "What if all of this is some lie and I'm really not good enough to leave here or good enough for your son or for anyone for that matter? What if I'm destined to be alone with seven cats that I'm allergic to in some trailer park all by myself with nothing but my hatred for the world and all the people in it?" I huffed after my speech, the sound of my breathing and the bubbling of Stella's stir fry being the only noises between us as I tried to catch my breath while Stella tried to find the right words to say to calm me down.

After a moment, Stella finally spoke up, her words serious as she talked to me. "Aren't you being a bit dramatic?" She asked as a tear fell down my cheek and I rushed to wipe it away, though she noticed and instead went a different approach with talking to me, her words coming out soft as she attempted talking to me again."Helga, where is all of this coming from?"

"I don't even know," I said softly as more tears began to spill over my lids, "I've just been thinking and I realized that I'm not this PERSON who's good like you or Miles or Arnold and I'm not, well, I'm not ANYTHING!"The anger in me spoke up again and Stella remained calm from where she stood, her voice not even trembling at my volume as she continued to be the voice of reason to my unkind words to myself.

"Helga you are something," she proceeded to say, "You're talented and bright and generous and kind. Those are all traits that will get you far in life if you let them."

"But what if they don't?" I asked mid-sob, my emotions getting the better of me and I frowned as the tears took complete control of me though I tried to stop them. Realizing it was no use, I threw my arms up in the air and exclaimed, "Oh criminy, why am I crying?!"

"Because you're emotional," Stella explained for me "and that's okay."

"No, Stella, it's not!" I yelled back at her but she shook her head while walking towards me to set a hand on my shoulder.

"It is," she insisted, "It's okay to cry and to feel and to have emotions that are confusing and overwhelming sometimes."

"But I get them so much these days," I said while throwing my hands down to my sides in resolution. "I just don't understand. Like this week has been CRAZY with my emotions. Phoebe says it's hormones, but I don't believe her."

Stella shrugged her shoulders, the thought seeming to have crossed her mind though she didn't let it show. "It could very well be. You're growing up. That's just what happens."

"How do I make them stop?" I demanded to know but Stella merely laughed and shook her head.

"Well, Helga, you don't. You just learn how to work with them," She explained. "It takes time, but you'll figure it all out. I did when I was your age too."

"You mean... YOU cried this much too?" I asked in amazement that such a strong woman could be a blubbering mess like me at some point in her life too.

"Oh goodness, yes," she said with a laugh before going on, "You're changing. The chemistry of your body is changing too and that brings about new emotions." She squeezed my shoulder before turning around and heading back to the meat that was calling for her attention back at the stove. "But you'll get through it just as I did and just as all girls do. I promise."

I sure hope she's right. I don't know what my body thinks it's doing, but I'm pretty sick of it at this point. Either way, I guess I'm just along for the ride.

Can't wait till health class on Tuesday (insert heavy sarcasm here),

Helga G. Pataki.

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So NOBODY and I mean NOBODY is looking forward to health class tomorrow.

The air in the class is a tension you couldn't even cut with a knife because everyone knows what we'll be talking about. The big 'P' word. Puberty.

Who even wants to talk about that? At this point, most of us have had 'the talk' with our parents so it isn't like we haven't heard KIND OF what's going on or will be going on with our bodies and stuff, but health class will consist of awkward videos, creepy diagrams and graceless conversations about the human bodies both female and male.

And the worst part? They separate us. The girls stay in one room while the guys go off to another so we can talk SEPARATELY about these topics to avoid us of further embarrassment which I GUESS is kind of nice of our teachers to do being as it's such a sensitive topic.

Oh wait, THAT'S not the worst part. Word on the street is you get GOODIE bags. That's right. You get to walk out of that weird class with bags full of products like deodorant and tampons and other such crap that everyone just laughs about to cut the tension of it being totally creepy and unnecessary. Trust me when I say that if we want that stuff and need it, we'll find a way to get it AKA our parents or in my case, the nurse or somebody.

The OTHER rumor going around is that they give the guys condoms. Now I don't know if THAT'S true cause I'm sure they don't want 11 and 12 year olds out on the town having sex with each other, but maybe they want to cover their bases or something. I don't know.

Either way, I know I'M not all that excited about whatever's to come tomorrow in this class. I've been pushing off this day in my head for ages now ever since they made our parents sign the permission slips for it and now that it's actually here, I'm a little freaked.

Phoebe says there's nothing to be worried about because it's all natural and information that we need to know as we 'go forth with our growing into our new and improved bodies' but I say bull crap and I'd rather just go with the flow of it all.

But I guess it's something I have to know. I don't know. I wonder how Arnold feels about all this. It's way too awkward of a topic to just ask him so I'd never dream of bringing it up to him just to find out. But I'm sure the kid is just as nervous and overthinking the whole deal like I am.

Anyway, here's to learning about the human body and hoping I don't die of embarrassment!

Helga G. Pataki

WHO'S READY FOR HEALTH CLASS?!

Honestly, I'm so pumped for this next chapter because it's gonna be great.

a few fun facts about this chapter, the swimming class portion is 100% what my swimming class was like when i had to take it in 7th and 8th grade. so sad and so true. so the awkwardness is very real and while writing it, i couldn't believe how ridiculous it sounded when putting it on virtual paper lol .

Anyway, please let me know what you think by leaving a REVIEW cause I'd love to hear your feedback!

-Polka