Well Journal, we have officially reached the 'countdown stage' towards the beginning of yet another school year. And while I'm anything but excited to spend another 52 weeks roaming the hallways filled with drama and teenage chatter, I'm somehow… optimistic about 8th grade.
Yes, you read that right.
For the first time in a really, REALLY long time, Helga G. Pataki is optimistic about what another year of education has in store for her.
And it doesn't even have to do with a certain football-head either.
Well… at least not ENTIRELY.
BUZZBUZZ
Helga glanced over from where she sat with the new journal her sister had provided her to check the illuminated screen of her cellphone.
New Message from: Footballhead
A small smile tugged at the teenager's lips before she returned her attention back towards the journal that she was busy inscribing with her innermost thoughts and secrets.
I gotta admit, spending the summer with Olga wasn't the giant disaster I had originally believed it might be. Hanging out at her place with all of the random kids who filtered in and out really gave me some perspective—perspective that my sister really DOES care about other people besides herself.
And while OUR relationship still has a long, LONG way to go, I actually have hope that one day we can be at least a LITTLE like the siblings she always imagined and wanted us to be. For now though, I'm just glad that she has been able to be that figure for the kids she's been helping in her neighborhood.
I wonder how they'll cope when she comes back to Hillwood for who-knows-how-long to help diffuse the whole 'divorce' situation that I'm just eager to watch unfold.
Note the heavy, heavy sarcasm.
BUZZBUZZ
(2) New Messages from: Footballhead
Exhaling a heavy sigh laced with borderline excitement, Helga set down her pen in the crease of her open notebook. Gently closing the book, she reached over to pick up the cellphone that continued to demand her attention.
It had been days like this, the constant vibrations of incoming queries and sentiments shared with her one and only beloved. Almost immediately after her first CamGram post, the football-headed boy had contacted her via the app's messaging system. After a few casual replies and a little coercing, the two exchanged phone numbers to continue their conversation via the airwaves.
And since then, the buzzing had yet to cease—something that Helga was perfectly okay with.
Tapping away on the screen, Helga navigated her way to the messages that Arnold had been incessantly sending her as she'd been writing.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
Are you going to tell me your school schedule or what?
Helga chuckled to herself as she read the next message he had sent just seconds thereafter.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
Practically everyone else has already posted theirs on FN…
With a roll of her eyes, Helga considered her answer before replying while wearing a dubious grin.
HELGA:
Ever think that maybe I don't want all of FN knowing where to find me from hour to hour?
Determined to learn her schedule so he could find a way to sneak in a secret meeting to discuss the mysterious yearbook entry, Arnold pressed onward with persistence.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
Helga. They'll all find out soon enough when school starts in 2 weeks.
HELGA:
Maybe. Maybe not.
Arnold read Helga's words at least five times before letting his phone fall onto the plush of his bedding. Typically, he wasn't an impatient boy. His years of mastering patience from his classmates wild schemes and foolish ideas had poised him to be well-versed in the art of 'waiting.'
But there was something about Helga and there was something about the entry she had left behind that kept the boy anything other than at bay. Despite having worked all summer to learn the words she had ripped out, Arnold hadn't allowed himself much time to process what they meant as Helga had been far away with Olga before returning as if an entirely different person.
Maybe it was the shimmer of that new bright pink streak that mingled effortlessly with her golden tresses or the twinkle in her blue eyes that hinted at a newfound confidence… all things that Arnold had only been able to see from the CamGram pictures and stories that she infrequently posted.
Whatever the change was, it had Arnold excited and anxious to see her in person. Since she'd returned to Hillwood, the two had only contacted by means of technology… something that Arnold himself wasn't particularly fond of using when it came to matters of the heart.
Once confused and conflicted about his feelings for Helga and how she reacted to them, their summer apart had a profound impact on the young teen. Ever since he'd finished decoding her missing yearbook entry nearly a week prior, the words she'd penned danced across his subconscious as he tossed and turned through the night with thoughts of how he could possibly respond.
One day, you'll wake up and realize that I'm just some bully who isn't deserving of any kind of love…
These remnants of her message kept Arnold awake each night while he struggled to come up with what he could say in response to the notion that was utterly untrue.
Helga was deserving of love.
Helga was deserving of his love.
And, to him, she was never just some bully. In fact, Arnold was fairly confident that the little voice inside of him that screamed 'she was so much more' was right—that Helga was destined to be much, much more.
If not today, then someday.
And hopefully someday really, really soon.
But the time to confront Helga and the yearbook entry had yet to show itself. School was beginning in a matter of days and unless he could learn her schedule and find a way to corner her between classes, Arnold feared that he would never be able to discuss with her the things he yearned to learn… and yearned to say. A real… confession of his own.
As Arnold sat upon his bed with conflicting thoughts swarming his large head, Helga sat contently on her own while resuming the entry she had paused in composing.
I know it's coming though—the big divorce, that is. I'm pretty sure Miriam knows it too, but she's living in a world of sweet, sweet denial.
At least she's managed to steer clear from the smoothies… at least for NOW, that is.
Bob on the other hand is worse than ever. He's given up even TRYING to milk the façade of a good husband and I'm pretty sure that it's because Olga has been giving him the cold shoulder.
I hate to admit it, but damn am I proud of my sister for that. If it's ANY kind of rightful punishment Bob deserves for up and abandoning our mom, it's the abandonment of his most prized possession in the process:
His precious OLGA.
But, until he actually grows a pair and delivers the papers once and for all, the three of us do our little shuffle of pretending we don't all know what the future inevitably holds for us. I wonder if Dad is just holding out until Olga gets here… then again, THAT seems somewhat unlikely.
I doubt he'd want to make an even BIGGER ass of himself in front of her than he already has.
In other news, I got some righteous rebellious teenage lecturing at the new color that has been added to my hair. I was pretty surprised Olga let me do it in the first place, but I NEVER expected my parents to notice. I mean criminy! They thought I was 8 years old until I turned 12. And even THEN I'm still pretty sure they aren't entirely positive.
I wonder what Arnold first thought when he saw my hair…
His comment on the picture she'd posted hadn't been all that descriptive—just a little smiley emoji accompanied with a 'like.' Part of her thought that it was because Arnold hated it, though that part was more of a quiet, paranoid whisper that often made itself known before she promptly ignored it. The more dominant part of her thought he was being modest, shy even.
It was the vibe he'd been giving off since they'd begun their texting conversation at her return home.
I guess I should just be happy he liked it and left a comment, even if it WAS just some dorky little smiley face. Figures that the twerp wouldn't be able to muster the courage to publicly type something alluding to feelings for me.
It's just so COMPLICATED!
Unnecessarily complicated!
He wrote, and I quote: "the fact that we aren't together feels right, because we're still pretty young, but also wrong because being together felt really right."
I mean, what the heck is THAT supposed to mean ANYWAY?!
Logically, one would say, "Well Helga, why don't you just ask him? Why don't YOU confront him about his mysterious yearbook wording and flat out question the football-headed dweeb what he meant by that?"
My answer to that would be BECAUSE I WOULD PREFER TO LIVE THROUGH MY TEENS RATHER THAN DIE FROM EMBARASSMENT, DOI!
What if he was just being nice? What if things have changed since I was gone over the summer? It's hard to gauge what the kid is feeling or thinking when we only ever talk through texting. How am I supposed to know the inflection of his words when I'm just reading them with my own voice in my head?
BUZZBUZZ
New Message from: Footballhead
"Impeccable timing there, Hair Boy," Helga muttered to herself before sticking her pen sideways to be bitten in place by her teeth.
Unlocking her phone once more, she found her way to the latest of the messages Arnold had sent her.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
Well, if you won't post your schedule for fear of FaceNet stalkers, maybe you'll just tell me?
Helga's brow raised at the question posed from the brightly lit screen. Tapping her lower teeth lightly on the bottom of the pen secured in her mouth, she thought of an answer before sending it through the satellites to reach Arnold's phone.
HELGA:
Fine Arnoldo. I'll tell you. But only if you can give me a good reason as to why I should.
As she awaited whatever excuse Arnold was to come up with, Helga returned her attention to her journal once again.
Anyway, he keeps asking me for my schedule to school which I'm not really sure how to take.
On the one hand, of freakin' COURSE I want to give it to him, because why wouldn't I? But then on the OTHER hand, I kind of LIKE knowing that, for SOME REASON, Arnold Shortman wants to know if we have classes together.
Maybe just because he wants to stay friends. I mean, that's a thing, right? I'm sure that's all there is to it. After all, the kid IS pretty dense and whether he acknowledges his feelings or not, I'm sure he just wants to keep working on the whole 'friendship' thing.
And you know what?
I think I'm okay with that.
That's right—Helga G. Pataki is actually okay with being 'just friends.'
For NOW that is. Because ONE day, whether it's now or in the near future, Arnold and I will plunge into the relationship that our souls are destined to embark on—the relationship that we HAVE been destined to proceed with since that day long, long ago in the rain.
Unfortunately for me, until that time comes when Arnold is COMPLETELY ready and I'm not such a jealous imbecile, I guess I gotta do some more waiting.
But hey, I waited this long already, right? What's a little longer.
As she wrote the sentiment across the lined paper, a twinge of guilt fluttered through her system as she knew that their impending relationship wasn't the only thing she was waiting on.
Arnold still hadn't answered her; hadn't given her a reason to disclose the school schedule that was harbored in the top drawer of the desk in her room. She itched to send it anyway—to throw caution to the wind and give in to his request.
But she couldn't bring herself to do it.
She couldn't give in so easily.
Part of her HAD to know what kind of reasoning he was going to send her.
And that would make two people who were wondering what his excuse would be.
Well, a few more than two, actually.
"Getting the most out of our unlimited texting plan, I see," Miles noted as Arnold walked down the steps from his bedroom in pursuit of the living room where he'd been called. It was a Thursday night which meant that the boarding house gathered in the evenings to watch the news, play games, and choose a movie to watch.
It was all an attempt made this Summer from the Shortmans to encourage the other boarders to be friendlier with one another. Overall, the experiment hadn't exactly been a roaring success. Most times the nights ended in bickering over commercials, snacks, movie choices, and of course, Oskar's incessant and unwarranted commentary.
Even so, Arnold wasn't exempt from this newfound tradition, and as he walked with his phone in his hand, he stared down at Helga's lingering message and furrowed his brow. "I guess so," he answered half-heartedly once he reached the landing of the steps and rounded the corner to collide directly into his father's chest.
Looking up from his phone sheepishly, Miles looked down at his son with a raise of his brow and a smirk twitching on his lips. "Helga again?"
The very sound of her name sent blood rushing to Arnold's cheeks though he merely pursed his lips and offered a casual shrug of his shoulders. "Yeah, why?" He wondered before sliding to the right of his dad to enter the living room that was already filling up with the talkative boarders.
"Oh, you know," Miles continued in an artificially relaxed voice while following the boy into the next room, "the two of you have just been talking an awful lot these days…"
"Well, she did just get a cellphone, dad," Arnold remarked before sitting himself cross-legged at the front of the couch which was already crowded with Mr. Hyunh, Ernie, and Stella who precariously held a plate of cookies on her lap.
"Bringing out the baked goods again, Stells!" Ernie announced while reaching across Mr. Hyunh to steal a cookie from the tray. "Nobody makes better cookies than you, that's for sure."
"I doubt that, Ernie," Stella replied with a warm smile while outstretching the plate to offer Mr. Hyunh his chance at the sweets. "Would you like one Mr. Hyunh? I was tinkering around with some new herbs that I think you may particularly appreciate in terms of flavor."
"Oh, yes!" He nodded with excitement while taking one. "Flavor always very good, yes!"
"How about you, Arnold?" Stella soon asked her son whose face was still buried in the screen of his phone, though his thumbs remained frozen. "Do you want to try one? They're still warm…"
"Don't even bother, Stella," Miles answered for him while resting on the arm of the couch at Stella's side. "Arnold is very busy with 'you-know-who' again…"
"Ahh, Helga," she said with a nod and a grin. "I'm glad to see that you two have been talking again. Will we be seeing her here any time soon?"
"Not if I can't figure out what to say…" he muttered just above a whisper before letting out a deep sigh and dropping the phone to rest in his lap. As he tilted his head back in frustration, his eyes gently shut while he tried to think, though the chatter around him made it a difficult task.
"Don't stress about it, Arnold. All you need to do is act cool and casual," Miles advised with a dubious smirk. "You know… just like your old man." His statement was followed by a proud grin that received more than its fair share of skepticism from his own father.
"Which old man are we talking about here, hmm?" Phil chuckled from where he sat on the nearby rocking chair. "I know it can't be you."
"Right, dad, because I'm not old yet like you, I know, I know—"
"No," Phil interrupted with a lone shake of his head. "You might be old, but you've never been cool or casual!" Letting out a boisterous laugh, he soon leaned in towards the majority of the living room to continue with his reasoning. "Take it from me, Shortman, when your father was your age, he was just about as charming and relaxed as one of those tiny little… oh, what do you call those small things that shake like crazy all the time? What are they called, again?"
"An African Rock Python!" Gertie suggested from where she sat atop the coffee table, though she was met with groans and a couple eyerolls.
"That's a snake, Pookie," he deadpanned; Stella soon chiming in.
"Not just any snake either," she informed happily. "African Rock Pythons are the largest of all snakes in Africa. Did you know they can reach up to 20 feet in length?"
"Yeah, but they don't shake now do they, Stella?" Grandpa said before sighing and reiterating his question. "No, no, I'm talking about those little dog things… the ones that are always so nervous…?"
"Chihuahuas?" Arnold answered with a smile that spread as quickly as his own father's waned.
"A chihuahua, that's it!" Grandpa exclaimed with a laugh. "Why, I remember when Miles was about 15, he wanted to ask some girl to a little get together his friends were having—"
"Dad, please," Miles began to plead, "not this story again…"
"Oh c'mon, Miles," Phil argued, "The boy needs to know how not to talk to women, doesn't he?"
"I'm sure that Arnold does just fine talking to girls," Stella encouraged while reaching up to rub at her husband's back. "He and Helga have been friends for a very long time now which should make it easy."
"Easy?" Arnold intoned while twisting his body to look over at his mother. "All I'm trying to do is get her school schedule and she's making me give her a good reason just to get it."
"Why you want schedule?" Mr. Hyunh asked while nibbling at the cookie he'd taken. "Seems a little… creepy."
"What's so creepy about knowing someone's school schedule, Hyunh?" Ernie asked with an accusatory hint in his tone. "You mean to tell me that you never learned a girl's schedule in school so you could 'accidently' run into her?"
"No, I never do that," he countered with a narrow of his eyes in Ernie's direction. "You do that? You sound like Oskar. Very creepy—"
"Hey now! I'm not some whackjob like Kokoshka over there, okay?" Ernie immediately defended while tossing a thumb behind himself in Oskar's direction. "I had real class when I flirted back in the day. Girls loved me."
"Why you no married then, huh?" Hyunh shot back, though Oskar spoke over him in a loud voice.
"Whackjob?!" Oskar exclaimed, "What do you know about Oskar, little man? What do you know of me and the ladies?"
"I know you don't know how to keep them around since Susie dropped you like a hot potato—"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Phil shouted above their arguing while waving an arm in the air as if to wipe away all of their foul comments. "The last thing Arnold needs is you three insulting each other. He gets enough of that when he isn't trying to talk to his little friend with the one eyebrow."
"Her name is Helga, Grandpa," Arnold said softly before picking his phone back up and peering down at the screen in frustration. "And she's going to think I'm ignoring her if I don't give her some kind of reason soon…"
"Tell her you want it to see what classes you have together," Stella advised, though Miles was quick to shoot her down.
"He doesn't want to come across too eager, does he?" He questioned before turning to look at his son whose eyes were as wide as saucers. "Here's what you do, Arnold. You tell her that you want to make sure she doesn't have any of the bad teachers. I know when I was in middle school, we had this horrible Algebra teacher and everyone—"
"I don't know any of the teachers though, dad," Arnold interrupted; his voice growing more panicked by the minute. "What's wrong with sounding too eager?"
"Yes, Miles," Stella turned to pointedly repeat her son's question to the man she'd married. "What is wrong with sounding 'too eager?' Shouldn't we be encouraging our son to be honest and express his feelings openly?"
"Not if he wants to survive middle school…" he muttered which gifted him a swift but soft slap on the arm from his wife.
"Now that is toxic masculinity, and we are not advocating that kind of thinking. Are we, Miles? We're better parents than that."
"That's not what I… no I didn't mean… Stella." Miles huffed out a breath before trying again with stuttered success. "No-Nobody said that he, that we, or that anyone really, should discourage talking about, well, you know. About feelings and the like. He should. He should talk about his feelings. Obviously."
"See?" Grandpa whispered over to Arnold while pointing a finger in Miles' direction. "Just like a nervous chihuahua…"
"Dad!" Miles exclaimed in exasperation. "Enough with the chihuahuas, already!"
"Oh my god…" Arnold breathed out while ignoring the remainder of his family's conversation and opting to text Helga what his first instinct had originally told him to tell her.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
I wanted to see if we had any classes together
Helga smiled down at the text message as another one quickly came in across the screen.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
Is that a good enough reason?
Taking in a hefty breath, Helga decided to boldly hint at the hope of Arnold making a move. Just before she hit 'send,' Helga shut her eyes and silently convinced herself that whether he took the bait or not was inconsequential.
Despite her inward assurances, Helga knew that his response was still of great consequence to her.
HELGA:
It's logical, sure, but why tell you now when I can just wait and talk to you about it at Rhonda's Back-to-School bash this weekend?
"Why am I sweating?" Arnold mumbled after reading the message aloud. Nervously, he reached under his armpits to touch at the damp fabric with a shake of his head. "This shouldn't be this hard, should it?" He asked those around him, though the question was more directed at his mother than anyone. "We've already dated before… we know we like each other. Why is this suddenly so… stressful?"
"Maybe because you know what your relationship could be now that you both know better from your first time," Stella offered; Miles nodding his head in agreement.
"There's that yearbook entry weighing on you too, I'm sure," he quickly added. "From what I know of Helga, that was a pretty big deal what she wrote in there… and you still haven't mentioned it to her yet, have you?"
"Well…" Arnold dragged the word out while slowly tilting his head down in shame to look at the screen of his phone.
"Hold the phone, Miles," Ernie stopped the father before he could begin. "You want Arnold to talk about that yearbook thing you two have been working on all summer over some… e-mail?"
"Not exactly, but—" Miles tried to argue, but Mr. Hyunh was already shaking his head in mutual disapproval.
"Bad idea," he said softly, "Very bad…"
Gesturing in his direction, Arnold nodded once, "Thank you, Mr. Hyunh. I've just been waiting until the time feels right, that's all."
"And there's nothing wrong with that, honey," Stella once again reassured before taking one of her own cookies and bringing it up to her lips for a sample.
"I just want it to go better this time, you know?" Arnold continued as though speaking to himself aloud rather than a room full of nosy adults. "Helga's… she's… she's special and-and… and I don't want it to go wrong again. Is that weird?"
"Absolutely not weird," Miles said with a soft upturn of his lips. "But if I know anything about girls—"
"Which you don't," Grandpa Phil interjected.
"Dad!" His son once again exclaimed in agitation before continuing to speak to his own son. "Then it seems to me like she's hinting about that party of Rhonda's. You should ask her to it."
Raising her brow, Stella eyed her husband curiously with a mocking glint in her gaze. "What happened to not sounding too eager?"
"She offered it this time, not him!" Miles defended himself. "He'd be a fool not to ask her now."
Chiming in while standing atop the coffee table she'd previously been sitting on, Gertie spoke up to declare, "Oh, let the boy be, already… let him make his mistakes! Take a few risks and slay a few dragons! A knight knows not of failure but only of the glory that awaits upon completion of the quest!"
Each of the boarders shared a look with one another as silence overtook the living room at Grandma's dramatic proclamation. After a beat, Miles nodded his head a couple times before plainly saying, "You know… I think there was some sense hidden in there, Ma."
Delivering a wink with a familiar giggle, Gertie stepped off of the coffee table and wandered to sit on the green recliner at the side of the sofa. With her movement, Arnold himself stood up from the carpeted floor and made an announcement for himself.
"Alright, you know what? I think I'm just going to skip tonight's Thursday Gathering if that's okay with you guys." As he backed away and out from the living room, Arnold continued to talk with the hopes that his lack of silence would be a gateway to a quick escape from the situation he'd found himself trapped in.
"I'll just head on to my room and uh, you know. I'll just do what I think is right, which I'm not really sure at this point but instincts are usually pretty good. It's just that all of this 'advice; is just a bit overwhelming so—" as he reached the first of the stairs that led to his upstairs room, hurriedly he finished with, "—I'll see you all in the morning then, goodnight!"
As he hurried up the steps to disappear behind the door of his bedroom, a faint laughter from Phil could be heard from beyond his four walls.
"Poor kid," he said through a chuckle, "He'll figure it out someday. After all, you sure did, my boy. Even if it took you a while."
Rolling his eyes, Miles ignored his father as Stella let out a quiet laugh of her own before saying, "He certainly did, Phil."
Meanwhile, from the safety of his bedroom, Arnold took in a shaky breath to calm his nerves before lifting his phone to look at the message Helga had sent him once again.
HELGA:
It's logical, sure, but why tell you now when I can just wait and talk to you about it at Rhonda's Back-to-School bash this weekend?
Helga stared at the words she had sent while waiting impatiently for Arnold's response.
"C'mon, football-head," she muttered to the screen of her cellphone, "answer me already for cripes sake!" Anxiously, she set the phone down to rest at her side on the bed before she opted to direct her attention back to her journal in an effort to distract herself.
Journal, forget what I said about the whole 'waiting' thing—I HATE waiting and it's the WORST and you know what? I'm SICK of waiting! I've been waiting one this freaky-headed weirdo since TODDLERHOOD and when I FINALLY get his stinkin' attention, I mess it all up and now I'm stuck waiting AGAIN on him and his absolute buffoonery!
Why did I choose him? Why did he choose ME?
Oh, cursed world, why have the fates chosen for our young love to be so utterly complicated and yet confoundedly simple? Why must I be forced to endure the consequences of actions from a frightened, immature girl who has flourished into a somewhat-reasonable young adult in mere months? Can't he see that? Can't he forgive and forget the actions of my past?
CAN'T HE FREAKING RESPOND ALREADY I MEAN CRIMINY, ARNOLD! DO I HAVE TO SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU?! ASK ME TO RHONDA'S STUPID PARTY ALREADY!
As she scribbled one exclamation point after another to further iterate her frustrations, vibrations at long last pulsed from where her phone patiently sat. Scrambling to get to the response Arnold had sent, Helga tapped the screen with shaky, clammy fingers before reading her long-awaited message.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
I'm surprised you're planning to go to that. Didn't you once call Rhonda's parties 'a desperate grasp for attention at furthering a self-induced ego complex fueled by her own narcissistic attitude?'
Helga audibly groaned as she read the words that she remembered mentioning a few months back. While she was flattered that Arnold had listened to her enough to recall her sentence so vividly, she was also irritated that he had chosen to throw it in her face rather than be bold and accept her not-so-outright invitation at inviting her to attend the bash with him.
"You have got to be kidding me," she growled at the screen while typing out her simple reply.
HELGA:
Yeah. And?
Just as soon as she hit send, her fingers tapped away another response which she sent immediately afterward without a single regret.
HELGA:
Can't a girl change her mind? Maybe I was planning on going to her stupid soiree for the little finger sandwiches and to stay up to date on whatever inane drama she'll surely whip up. What's it to YOU?
Arnold read her two messages with a grimace as he realized his sarcastic comment had apparently sparked a nerve in Helga. A third message popped up on his screen that made him sigh in defeat.
HELGA:
I mean, criminy, Arnold! I'm not just going to sit at home and scroll through FaceNet and CamGram like some antisocial moron while everyone posts about her lame party. What kind of girl do you think I am?
Hurriedly, Arnold attempted to diffuse the bomb he had inadvertently set off in the blonde teen blocks away.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
Helga. Please stop. I didn't mean it like that.
He hit send before beginning his next text—if it were anything that he wanted to do, it was calm Helga into waiting until he could explain himself before she shut down their conversation altogether. Silently, he cursed technology and its inability to properly translate his poor attempts at flirting via messages.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
I'm just glad to hear that you changed your mind and that we'll have a chance to see one another at the party.
Helga's heartrate immediately slowed as her facial expression softened upon reading what Arnold had sent; another message soon showing itself on the brightly lit screen she stared into.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
You can tell me your schedule and all about your summer with Olga. If you want to, that is.
Holding his phone in his right hand, Arnold brought his left thumb up to his mouth where he nervously bit it while awaiting Helga's reply. He hoped that his intentions had been made clear enough to stop her from exploding any further or misinterpreting the sentiment behind his words. After a prolonged moment of agonizing anticipation, Helga's text buzzed through.
HELGA:
You'd be interested in hearing about that?
FOOTBALLHEAD:
Of course
His reply had been instantaneous; proof that Helga desperately needed to confirm Arnold was indeed interested in being with her even remotely… and even just as friends.
It was with this thought that she steadied herself as she once again remembered the entry Arnold had left in her yearbook:
The fact that we aren't together feels right, because we're still pretty young, but also wrong because being together felt really right.
At the same moment the inscription crossed her mind, words he had spoken prior to signing her yearbook filtered through her mind as well.
"I don't want to have these problems," he had told her all those months ago after their last impromptu kiss at Rhonda's, "maybe if we wait or if we just work on a relationship without a label…"
These memories triggered Helga into doing the unthinkable, into retracting and rethinking the message she had already begun to type and sending another one in its place.
HELGA:
Guess I'll see you at her party then. It'll be nice to hang out and talk as friends, or whatever. No pressure… just two pals enjoying another Wellington-Lloyd party.
Arnold read Helga's message with a purse of his lips and a disappointed dry swallow that took its time sliding down his throat.
This wasn't how he had expected her to reply. This wasn't the direction he had hoped their conversation was heading—the sudden twist in tone threw him off guard entirely as he too rethought the message he had started to type:
I want to hear all about your Summer, and I thought that maybe we could talk about something else too… if you're—
He hadn't finished the sentence, though he had planned to finally bring up the words Helga had left unsaid in his yearbook before taking off for summer vacation. Once again the timing felt off and Arnold held the 'delete' key to erase his carefully crafted comment that would never be sent.
At least not today.
Instead, he typed a simple response, one that lacked the enthusiasm he had felt mere moments ago but still held onto that string of hope towards their impending meeting. With his reply, Arnold set his phone down to let Helga digest his words. As he allowed his body to flop down limply upon his bed, Arnold silently sent out a wish to the universe that Rhonda's party would provide him the opportunity he needed to get to the bottom of what Helga had initially written back in June.
He wanted so badly to discuss it with her and to find out why she had ripped it out in the first place.
FOOTBALLHEAD:
Sounds good to me, Helga. I'll see you then, I guess
His response didn't hit the way Helga had hoped it might, but she was positive that her last-minute choice to take pressure off of their 'relationship' had been a step in the right direction. She didn't want to scare him off before they even had a chance to talk again or see one another in person. Considering how back-and-forth Arnold had been in terms of acting on his feelings, she thought it wise to give him what he had asked for—space to work on their friendship.
As the pair sat in their rooms across Hillwood, they pondered what Rhonda's Back-to-School Bash would hold for them and ultimately their relationship. Would they embark again on a romantic courtship? Would they opt to remain friends while they matured individually? Would the magnetism they each felt towards one another yank them closer together or would their energies be misconstrued by the countless peers who would surround them as they had during their disastrous first school dance?
Only time would tell, and thankfully, the answers to these questions would take place in only a matter of days; Saturday quickly approaching from their Thursday night.
Woah, look at me posting (hours) early! But at least I hit my goal for posting day so I'm pretty stoked about that and I hope you all are as well!
I had a really fun time doing the dialogue exchanges in this, so please be sure to leave me a REVIEW and let me know what you think of this chapter! Can't wait to see you again at the next one- the goal for the next posting day is SATURDAY, DECEMBER 5TH so keep a lookout and be sure to follow the tag on my twitter/tumblr #HelgaUnbound for updates and news regarding the story!
Thanks again for your continued support of this story!
xo
Polkahotness