Arnold took a aloe drink from the shelf. He looked at it. It was green. He could see through to the other side. He could see the rest of the drinks through the fluid. He looked at the date. It was actually expired. He put it on the cart. He breathed. The aisle was looking perfect. Two hands made the work easier and the section wasn't that big in the first place. It was a mildly time consuming job by himself. Though him and Helga were quick. They got stuff done. He looked at Helga. Helga was chewing some gum. She met his look. "Place's looking pretty good huh?"

"Yeah, it is." The store was quiet at that moment. People were standing still. Back at the deli Todd was showing a customer a cut of meat. Asking whether or not it was what they wanted. He nodded and went back and cut more deli meat just like it. "I haven't talked to Todd in a while."

"Todd?"

"He works in the deli. He's an older guy, like 40."

"Oh is he the guy with the weird face?"

"Yeah I mean his face is kinda weird but he's a nice dude."

"I didn't call that into question."

"Yeah, OK."

They were quiet again. Arnold had been wondering something since they met but he didn't have a chance to ask the question. Well he had the chance the question but he just didn't. It seemed rude. He decided now, now was the time. "So Helga I was wondering... what uh happened to you?" Helga raised her eyebrow. She didn't say anything. "What I uh mean is. Well, I said it wrong. You used to be such a... a bully to me and everybody else... you just seem so different."

Helga understood. "Well, Arnold. It has to do with everything to do with Phoebe. I lost her as a friend during freshman year. I was an evil early teenager. Everything in my body was firing off wrong, I couldn't understand the new feelings that I was confronted with. When I didn't have you to bully I chose the next person in my sights. Her. Of course she's a good person, she tried to understand. She tried to stop me from being what I am which is a bastard. There were still good days where I was myself. When we could talk about how I felt when my hormones were raging. Honestly it felt like a cop out for my lack of control over myself. But my mood swung from one place to another, loving friend, to a bitch. One day, I was angry that she wasn't going through what I was. Her puberty was much more controllable, she still got angry but she was so much better at controlling it. I was angry because of that. I was angry that she even criticized me for things I couldn't change. I was angry that she tolerated me after all the stuff I said on a regular basis, I was angry that sometimes she didn't tolerate me. I was angry because I was angry. I was there for probably an hour just shoving her face into every single complaint I could even think of. I called her a fucking idiot. She just sat there. She had tears, but she didn't really cry. She stood up. She walked toward the door to my room and she left. The next day I tried to apologize but she wouldn't look at me. I felt so pathetic. I got angry again. She still ignored me. I insulted her. She cried and I went quiet. I apologized. She didn't speak to me. I left her alone the next day. I left her alone for two years before we talked again. And man I got so fucking lonely. Like I started to get into these weird internet chat rooms I was so lonely. I was so lonely... I..." She was going to omit that detail. "I even tried to start liking my father. There were good nights between us. We'd watch wrestling which he apparently liked. I tried to be his daughter. He wanted a son but I was going to be his daughter. It didn't work. It still hurt when he forgot my name. When he'd forget my birthday, when he'd insult my mother for being a drunk, which she was but its beside the point. It hurt that even if I tried, he couldn't find love in his heart for the child who he still had. Olga got out of town. Something about legal trouble, I honestly couldn't care. I was convinced that my father couldn't love me. I tried to come up with so many reasons why he couldn't... none of them satisfied the question. I eventually gave up on Bob Pataki. I just talked to my internet friends all the time. My emotions had calmed after a year but I was still alone. It was the coldest year of my life. I had nobody. No interactions. I almost felt that I mine as well be dead. Who'd notice a missing girl in a crowd of a thousand kids? I start to cut myself. Angry and sad teenager shit. I never really thought about dying though. I don't know. It just never entered my mind."

"What changed?"

"I met Phoebe again. She sat at my lunch table. I looked at her like an alien I swear, but she spoke. 'I am willing to forgive you on one condition, that you stop hurting yourself' She had noticed the cuts on my legs in the classes we shared. She was genuinely concerned for my well being. I shook her hand. It almost felt like a transaction but I promised I was going to hold up my half of the bargain. I still cut myself a few times afterwards but I stopped eventually. I shared my awful year with her. I couldn't be an asshole to her anymore. I was more timid. I mean I can still be an asshole just not to her. I need to be provoked now." She looked at Arnold, a small smile on her face. "I still hang out with her on the weekend. I'm too tired most week days though. Tired of standing on my damn feet."

"I'm sorry about all that."

"Well, you had nothing to do with it."

"I mean if I had been there maybe we could have been friends. I mean I always tried when we were younger."

"That's a big maybe I was bad and that's a what if. There's no changing what's happened."

Arnold sighed. "You're right. I just wish we could've known each other sooner. Maybe you could've convinced me to not make a false promise."

"Huh?"

"With Riley."

"I hate doing what if's, Arnold."

"I get it. But it's hard to not wish things had been different."

She sighed. She looked at the aisle. "You know I thought this aisle was perfect, but I see a problem..."

"What's that?"

"We need more snack packs."

"You're right."

"Let's get to it."

They worked. Though at the end of the day. They didn't have much to do. Arnold went over to the deli. "Hey, Todd."

"What's going on, Arnold?"

"Not much, we've basically exhausted things to do."

"So you're bored?"

"Yep."

"Well how about you ask that girl out on a date?"

Arnold blushed but shook his head. "We're just friends."

"Well... that's how it starts. Then ya know... things change."

"I don't imagine that happening. I prefer her as a friend."

"Alright. Alright. I just thought you two got along very well."

"We do. We make a good team as employees."

"Wondaful, Arnold."

Somebody approached deli and looked at the meats. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"Half a pound of bologna thank you very much."

Arnold walked away. Helga wasn't out front anymore. Arnold went to the back. He heard music before he saw Helga. "Lie. Cheat and steal. You lie, cheat and steal and you lie." She was singing along with it. Arnold didn't interrupt he sat around the corner and listened. It was an aggressive song. She was putting on a gruff voice. He smiled and rounded the corner. She was making little packages of watermelon pieces. Two of them. There was plastic wrap laying around, discarded. She had been trying for probably ten minutes. "What are you doing?"

"Practicing. I want to get this right."

"Alright. What's this music? Sounds like metal."

"That's because it is. It's from an album, Undertow. It's by a band called Tool."

"I think I've heard of them."

"They have other albums, but this one's more grungy, I like it. I gotta buy more CDs if we get to listen to them in here."

"I have some in the pile. It's mostly jazz though. Can I give you a tip?"

"No, football head. Maybe in a minute but I'm figuring this out for myself." She was determined and Arnold wasn't going to interrupt her. Arnold simply watched as she did it. After two more attempts she got a decent wrap. "There we go. That doesn't look half bad does it?"

Arnold pat her on the back. "Not bad."

"Hands off."

"Got it." Arnold put his hands up. He went to the label machine and made a label for a watermelon pack.

"Let me put it on. It's satisfying."

"Do it." She did. She was greatly satisfied "It's about closing time."

"Good."

Andrew appeared. "Great work you two the aisle has never looked this good. You two should be proud." He gave them a smile.

Helga nodded. "It looks pretty good doesn't it?"

"It does, it does. Though I have a request for you, Arnold."

Arnold knew the words he was about to say. "What's that?"

"Can you mop the store?"

He didn't react, at least not visually. "I can do it."

"Thanks, Arnold." Andrew gave a thumbs up and took a sip of coffee from a mug. He turned and walked away.

"You're just going to let him keep doing that?"

"I don't know what else to say."

"I got a tip for you. Say no. No is a magic word, Arnold."

"Do you think he'd be angry?"

"If he was I don't think it'd be justified."

"Maybe I can just can take one for the team."

"Go ahead. I'm not mopping." Helga brought the two watermelon pieces packs to the front. Arnold walked out of the room and went into the janitor's closet. He filled the bucket in the closet's sink. He got the mop and left the room. He looked at the chocolate chip floor. He felt a weight on his shoulders. Today had been going good. It was fun working with Helga. But this, this was still miserable. Arnold mopped. The whole time he felt annoyance rise and fall. The store seemed almost endless till the last fourth when he could see the end. He didn't put on his headphones. It was a small vengeance against himself for choosing to mop the store. Helga passed by. "I'm leaving."

"Night, Helga."

"Later, Arnold." Helga left. Arnold eventually finished mopping the store. He poured the bucket into the closet's sink. The miserable gray water splashed down the drain. Arnold deflated. He put the bucket down. He put the mop down and finally left the store.

He unhooked his bike from the pipe and started to pedal home. The heat was killer. By the time he was home he was sweating bad. He went inside and got a bottle of water from the fridge. Miles was in the kitchen looking through a newspaper. He noticed Arnold. "How was work today, kiddo?"

"Well, they had me mopping again."

"Oh."

"I think next time. I'm going to say no."

"Do it."

"How was your day today, dad?"

"We're planning a trip to Africa. We're going to be studying a hunter gatherer tribe."

"You'll have to show me pictures once you get back."

"Will do."

"I'm going to go up to my room, dad."

"One question son."

"Yeah?"

"I heard you had a friend over the other day."

"Yep. Helga. We hung out in my room."

"I want to know you're being safe."

"Safe?" Arnold thought he knew what he meant.

"You're a young guy, Arnold. I just want to make sure you're being safe with women and men. Doing what you need to do."

"Me and her are just friends. We looked at the stars, well not the stars but the sky."

"OK. I just wanted to make sure that you're doing alright. Being responsible."

"I'd like to think I am."

"Alright."

Arnold hugged his father and went upstairs. Later that night Arnold put the image of the jazz quartet on his computer. Someone on an internet forum said it was the Dave Brubeck Quartet. Three white men and a black man. Arnold had listened to some of their stuff before but didn't recognize them visually. It was only a mystery of faces not actual identity. That disappointed Arnold. He turned his computer off, got in bed and under a blanket. He stared through the roof till he was too tired to keep his eyes open. He closed them and let sleep take him away.