Wow, what a ride this chapter was...there's a reason it took me a month to finish haha.
Ladies and gentleman, thank you for being patient with me with this latest chapter. It's a long one and for good reason. Because it's dancin' time! I also need to go over a few disclaimers.
1) This is a slight AU story. Meaning that certain events didn't happen as they did in the main timeline. Arnold and Helga did not tango at the April Fools Dance in this story, so they're both treading unfamiliar territory here. There's no previous tension from a previous dance.
2) There will be several 90s references here, mostly songs haha. See if any of you can remember a few of them.
3) This was so incredibly emotional to write and I loved every second of it. I really hope you guys enjoy it and that I've done these characters justice.
Review time!
Ezza- A dance is what you shall have! Hope you enjoy it!
HumanDictionary- It's really fun to envision Francesca saying these lines as Helga. God I miss the show so much.
DeepVoice06- Thank you! I really go the extra mile to make sure the characters are believable and true to the way they were created. I owe Craig Bartlett that much. I don't think Arnold is deliberately snubbing Gerald, it's more that in his darkest moments, Helga happens to be there which has made an impact on him. I would never create a serious wedge between those two, they're best friends for a reason :) And as for who asks who, well I'm curious to see what your response will be after I post this haha.
Sakikitty- It's a riot! When's your next update coming by the way?
The Rhombus- Thank you, my friend. Good friends don't always see eye to eye but they are always forthright and upfront. That's why their dynamic works so well. Olga is a literal walking curveball in Helga's life haha. She's going to have to put up with quite a lot in this chapter.
TimeLordMaster108- Thank you! I really hope you'll continue reading. This story still has a ways to go.
Yuni-X- It has been updated! I'm glad you liked it and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
AllegroGiocosco- Thank you for all your kind words! I can't wait to see what you think when you catch up to this chapter. You won't be disappointed!
As always, thank you guys for your reviews. This story is going so well and I owe that to my readers.
Anyway, please enjoy this update! Hold on to your hearts people:)
Chapter 11. Dance The Night Away
Friday Afternoon, three hours before the dance
For a sixth grade relationship, Gerald and Phoebe's was quite smooth. After several years of not so subtle hints and quiet flirting, the young black boy had finally mustered the courage to ask her out the summer following fifth grade year. Gerald had always prided himself on his ability to keep cool under any circumstance yet asking Phoebe to be his girlfriend had been more nerve racking than he originally anticipated. Perhaps he had underestimated just how much he liked her. In any case, the half Japanese girl had given an adorable giggle and responded with a kiss on the cheek, affirming what the two had felt for each other for quite a while.
Though the couple had no initial experience in the ways of dating (Gerald had only heard outlandish tales from Jaime-O) they had agreed to keep it simple, not push things too hard, and enjoy each other's company. There was making out to be sure, but nothing beyond that as Phoebe was especially shy about such matters. But by now, they were beyond their beginning awkward stage and spent time with one another in various ways. Today, the two had decided to take a brief walk in the park, taking periodic breaks sitting on the old, wooden benches.
"What a beautiful day," Gerald said, marveling at the sky. "Spring took awhile to get here, but I ain't complaining now."
"Well, we do live in a more northern climate," Phoebe pointed out. "That and our city lies next a cold current which keeps the weather mild in the fall but harsher in the spring."
Gerald could only smile.
"Have I ever told you how amazingly smart you are?"
"Once or twice, I suppose," Phoebe began before being met with a kiss by her boyfriend. She couldn't help but blush. Even now, Gerald still had that effect on her. Though cautious when it came to intimacy, she rather enjoyed his public displays of affection and sure to return the favor.
She reciprocated with a soft kiss of her own and entwined her hand with his.
"I'm really look forward to tonight," she said while lightly kicking her legs on the bench. "We will be able to share our first real dance together."
Gerald loved the way she sighed romantically. Phoebe's sweetness knew no bounds and it made him thank his lucky stars that she had such a personality.
"Me too, babe," he grinned. "It's going to be a great night."
A random blond boy and girl passed by, chasing a ball, laughing as they did so.
"By the way, that reminds me, do you want me to meet you at your house to pick you up?"
"Ordinarily, I'd say yes but I already promised Helga I'd go to her house before walking to P.S. 118."
Gerald shrugged.
"Just wondering. We will still see other at the dance but if you're heading over with Helga I'll just go to Arnold's."
Phoebe took a curious look at her boyfriend.
"You sound like you want to say more."
"What makes you say that?"
"I can just tell something's on your mind."
"Man, why do girls always think something is on a brother's mind?"
"Well, for one, we're girls," Phoebe responded with a sly wink. "But it isn't difficult to see that you've been worried about Arnold lately and you two haven't seen eye to eye."
Gerald eyed her as a bird flew over their heads and into the spring nest in the tree above them.
"How do you know about all that?"
"I'm your girlfriend, Gerald. I observe these things. That and I am best friends with the source of the conflict."
The black preteen gave a small sigh. Leave it to females to talk about literally everything, although looking back on it he supposed that whatever issues were going on between him, Arnold, and Helga would naturally find their way to Phoebe's knowledge.
When he didn't reply right away, his girlfriend continued.
"Gerald, I understand that you find Arnold and Helga's relationship confusing and even a bit concerning. But you don't need to worry."
"Arnold said the same thing to me. I didn't worry when they used to fight all the time. That was normal. What's going on now is just…weird."
"Weird is one word for it, but maybe it's a different phenomenon entirely."
"You act as though you know something I don't."
Phoebe couldn't help but turn away at that comment.
"It's not that…"
"You're not the only one who observes things, Phoebe. You hate lying and that's what you're doing right now. Why else would you try to reassure me like that? How come everyone has to walk on eggshells around me? What's the big secret?"
It was true, Phoebe despised lying. She was never adept at doing so and found it to be unethical and problematic, especially when doing so to Gerald. By the same token, she could not betray her best friend's trust. Despite Helga's progress with Arnold, she was still petrified at the prospect of revealing her true feelings. Perhaps Arnold was finally recognizing those feelings, but there was still no way to tell for certain. She had no choice but to defer to the wishes of Helga and that meant Gerald had to figure things out on his own.
"I don't mean to sound like I'm keeping things from you," she said apologetically as possible. "That's not my intent. I will say this though: Helga is a more complex person than you give her credit for. Maybe…just think about it more and it'll start to make better sense."
Gerald shook his head but gave a small chuckle.
"You make it sound like she's a secret agent or something."
Phoebe laughed in return.
"I suppose I did phrase her struggle in a mysterious way. But I promise, she's not a threat to Arnold, quite the contrary."
There was a pause before Gerald decided to stand up from the bench, stretching his arms as he did so.
"Well, I'll say this much. If you're suggesting those two will somehow end up together…there's not enough luck in the world to make it happen."
The black preteen suddenly felt something hit against his shirt and noticed the small bird fly off into the distance. He gave a sour frown.
"Aw come on! This is my favorite Scottie Pippen jersey!"
Phoebe giggled once more before hopping off the bench herself.
"Perhaps the bird was just trying to provide the luck you said didn't exist."
Gerald just gave a small huff, before feeling his hand being reconnected with his girlfriend's, slightly improving his mood as she gave him a smile.
"Come on, let's go back to my house. I'll help you wash off your jersey."
Gerald couldn't help but smile back. No matter the cause of the stress- Arnold, Helga, bird shit- she had a way of soothing him in a way no one else could. He was truly blessed to have her in his life.
The two blond children ran past them again, still playing but with the girl angrily chasing the boy and calling him names as he hogged the ball to himself.
"Get back here, worm breath!"
He just hoped that Phoebe would prove to be right about their own two blonds.
Though she wore a pink dress and matching bow nearly every day, very few other aspects of Helga Pataki could be considered "feminine." It's not that she hated traditionally girly things, but she did find them tedious, unnecessary, and basically pointless. Girls like Rhonda, who prided themselves on painting their nails a different color every two weeks, were shallow and prissy. Why waste time on such pointless matters when you could play tackle football and boss everyone around while doing so?
Well, as it happened, there was no getting away from certain trivialities when you were a girl. Especially when your irritating older sister insisted upon them for a school dance.
"Baby sister, you have such beautiful hair. Seeing yours so long and healthy makes me want to grow mine out again."
Nice to know there's one thing you're not absolutely perfect at
At the moment, Olga was using a straightener on her hair, but truth be told it was a redundant exercise. Helga's blonde locks required little further effort to straighten but her sister was insistent that nothing be spared in preparation for her "big night." It did no good to tell her that this was merely a fifth-sixth grade formal and not her senior prom. In the meantime, she was at the mercy of her and her mother.
"Olga how long is this going to take?" Helga asked, exasperated. "There's only an hour and a half before the dance and you're not even halfway through everything yet."
"Don't you worry, Helga," Olga practically pranced, as she paused on the hair to go back to her old room. "You deserve to look your best on this wonderful night and I won't rest until you look like a princess. My promise."
Helga gave a heavy sigh as she found herself a brief moment of respite from her sister's constant hovering. Even if she understood that Olga's intentions were pure in motive, it didn't make her less irritating. She didn't need a thousand pounds of makeup, a big fancy dress, or silky smooth hair all for something she regarded as utterly stupid. There was only one reason she was putting up with any of this, the same one that motivated her to wear the same bow and don the same dress every single day.
Arnold
The prospect of showing up dressed to the nines to impress her love was the one thing preventing her from taking the straightener and chucking it straight out the window. Then again, they had just gotten the house back and damaging the property Bob had gone through multiple hoops to reacquire was probably not a good idea. Overall, she was willing to put up with the primer, pomp, and pantyhose if it meant that she could impress the only boy she had ever felt any amount of affection for. That they had grown closer as of late made that hope grow ever stronger.
Just then, her mother entered the room holding what looked like a tube of lipstick in her hand.
"Oh, honey, look at you!" she gushed. "Olga did such a good job on the makeup. But your mother is an old pro at lipstick and I figured it was time to test it out on you. A girl's look is never complete without it."
Helga trusted Miriam was sober enough to do this (she remained suspicious despite her upbeat attitude as of late) and scrunched her face as the crayon like substance was pressed against her lips.
"Ack! Fanks, Mom," she said, barely squishing the words out.
"Of course, sweetie. Just hold still a little longer…I'll go get a napkin."
Helga could only assume it was the little trick Miriam did every morning when she applied her own lipstick. Was this what life was like when one became a woman? Obsessing constantly over appearance with the use of cosmetics and hair products just to feel good about yourself on a day to day basis? She thought back to the time she had crashed Rhonda's slumber party by attempting to be the most feminine creature there, complete with high heels and fake boobs made of her dad's old socks. One quote in particular stuck out in her mind.
"But Helga, we're girls. This is what girls do."
She shook her head at the reasoning. Doing something because of someone else's expectations defeated the whole purpose of doing it. What self respecting person would go above and beyond simply for that reason?
The image of a blond boy, with bright, feathery hair and an oblong shaped head popped into her mind once more, sending her stomach into a tailspin.
Okay, so maybe this does have some use. Arnold is a guy after all. Wouldn't he notice if I went to the dance made up like this? Or does that prove he's just as short sighted as the rest of them?
Her mental agonizing was interrupted by the return of her sister and mother, who placed a napkin in between her lips, instructing her to lightly press down.
"There we go! Ruby red never goes out of style."
"Okay, Helga, so I looked through my old closet and found the most adorable little outfit for you to wear," Olga cooed as she revealed what she had picked out. Not surprisingly, it was not to the young preteen's liking at all.
The dress was a lighter shade of pink than Helga's normal wear, but it had a lacy Peter Pan collar giving it a very juvenile tone. In Olga's other hand were a pair of white tights and some patented, black Mary Jane shoes. Helga wanted to barf.
"So, what do you think?" her sister asked hopefully.
The twelve year old didn't hold back.
"Yeah, it's great Olga…if you're six years old and about to go to Church on Sunday morning."
Slightly taken aback, Helga wasn't about to apologize much less put on the ridiculous ensemble. Perhaps one of these days her older sister would finally realize she had reached past the age of four.
Thankfully, Miriam displayed a rare moment of backup support which proved handy.
"Olga, we bought that for you when you were just a little girl for one of your friend's birthday parties, I'm not sure that's the right look for a school dance. Why don't I look through a few boxes and see what we can find…"
Olga seemed to let the subject go for now, to the relief of her younger sister, as she followed her mother out of the door and into the old storage closet where they still had a few unpacked items stowed away since moving back into the house.
Just then, a loud crash could be heard from the hallway.
"Will you three keep it down up there?! I'm trying to watch my soap operas!" Bob yelled up from the living room.
"My bad, B! We're just trying to find the right dress for Helga to wear to her dance tonight! Don't worry about me, I'm a little clumsy today."
"Let me help you up, Mumsy."
Helga groaned with irritation. This process was already getting on her last nerves and the dance was still an hour and a half away. She hoped Phoebe would get here soon so as to have someone to talk to while she was treated like a wind up doll.
More so than that, she prayed the dance itself would go a lot smoother than her mother trying to move among cardboard boxes in the closet.
Fortunately for Arnold, his preparation for the dance was much less stressful and complicated. In addition to having the benefit of being male, he was used to a high degree of independence that his grandparents had subtlety encouraged over the years. If homework needed to be done, if laundry needed to be washed, if the rent was due to be collected- it was up to him to do so. Getting ready for a formal was no different.
Drying his hair from the shower he had just taken, he wrapped it around himself before taking out his deodorant and applying it appropriately. He had been using it since the beginning of sixth grade year when his Grandpa began remarking how much he stank after playing a game of baseball or any other outside activity. He would need it tonight, especially if the night was to go well.
What's so important about tonight? He asked himself as he went over to his closet and pulled out the usual tux he wore for occasions like these. School dances were fun but for some reason, tonight had him paying extra close attention to his looks and his hygiene.
There was only one real reason this year's dance would have him sweating more than usual: girls. He couldn't deny that they were becoming quite noticeable and in more ways than one. Their habits, mannerisms, and movements were so different from what he experienced as a guy and physically it was hard to ignore the changes that were taking place. Sex-ed had taught them that puberty would affect them in a number of different ways, but no lecture on the subject could take away witnessing it for yourself. It started in small doses; such as the day when Nadine had come to school wearing skinny jeans and bent over while retrieving something from off the floor. Or during gym class when Rhonda had decided to wear athletic short shorts, and Arnold had not been able to take his eyes off her figure. And of course, he could never ignore it when Lila came to school wearing a new dress that revealed a quite a bit of leg.
That being said, those girls were not the cause of his nerves. In fact, it was someone that up until a month ago he would have cast off entirely. Though not always adequate when sorting through his own feelings (his reaction to his missing parents proved that) there was no denying the effect Helga Pataki was having on him. From their talks, moments together, and even the baseball game, his former bully had turned into something of a 'frenemy'….or was that really the right word to describe their current relationship?
I told her she used to bug me until she started to confuse me. And she still does, he mused to himself as he stepped into his slacks and pulled them up. He hadn't really questioned their improving dynamic much until now and was content to go along with Helga's new leaf. But what would cause her to change so abruptly? Was there an endgame or goal to all of this?
He hated to ask questions that doubted the validity of the girl's willingness to alter her attitude towards him. He also supposed that was Gerald talking, as his best friend remained suspicious and not at all warm to the idea of he and Helga becoming closer friends. It would appear logical to anyone else to remain wary of her, yet he wasn't. Arnold had been taught by his grandpa to always trust his instincts, and his instincts were telling him he could trust Helga. Perhaps, more than he had previously realized…
I…I can't believe how much I've been thinking about her lately. And the craziest part is that I don't really mind.
Another thought struck his mind as he buttoned him his shirt, one that caused him to silently blush. What would she be wearing to the dance? Typically, Helga didn't stray far from her usual pink ensemble, even during formal occasions so he figured it would be some variation of what she usually wore. But even imagining her in something such as a ballgown caused his stomach to do a back flip and his pants to grow a little tighter than what was typically comfortable.
Shaking his head, he quickly adjusted himself and continued getting dressed. Now was not the time for such thoughts, especially when in the gym with the girls themselves. No, that would be far too awkward.
Arnold was about finished getting ready, as he did his tie (another trick his grandparents had taught him) and slipped into a pair of shiny black shoes. Giving a quick look over in his mirror, he made sure nothing was out of place- no loose threads, stains, or obvious wrinkles. When he was sure there were no glaring errors, he glanced at his watch.
6:35. Better hurry and make sure Gerald isn't waiting for me.
He grabbed his jacket and headed down the stairs but not before he was stopped by a gruff voice in the hallway.
"Hey, Arnold! Wait a second!"
He turned around and saw Ernie Potts gesturing towards him.
"C'mere. Gotta show you something."
"Okay, but I have to get going pretty soon, Mr. Potts. I have this school dance-"
"I know that!" the thickly built, shorter man said. "That's why I'm trying to help ya. Your tie's a little off."
Arnold was relieved that Ernie wasn't showing him another brick from his collection. Not that he wouldn't have appreciated the gesture, but he was in a hurry after all.
"There you go," said Ernie as he adjusted the tie. "Always gotta look best for the ladies. Got one to go with tonight?" he added with a wink.
"Uh, h-haha no I don't," Arnold responded as an image of a blonde girl in a pink dress flashed in his head. "I'm just going with Gerald. I haven't really thought of girls yet."
"Well it's important to be prepared anyway. You never know, you may find that special girl when you least expect it. Always have to look sharp just in case."
A friendly elbow from Ernie brought a small smile to the preteen's face. Ernie, despite his gruffness and Napoleonic behavior, really was a good guy at heart. He was a more or less a surrogate nephew to the man and times like these cemented that.
"For once he's right, Arnold," called out his grandpa as he came into view from the top of the stairs. "These school dances may seem like a bunch of hullabaloo but they can be really special if you keep your mind open and dance to the groove."
The eighty two year old began shaking his hips and rear in silly manner, evoking an eyebrow and a chuckle from his grandson.
"I know, Grandpa. After all, you and Grandma taught me to dance to almost everything."
"That's right! Except for clogging, that nonsense is for hillbillies who couldn't get their sister to go out with them on the same bowling night."
Arnold didn't really know what to say that, so he merely nodded and let his guardian continue.
"Anyway, I know you might not think this dance tonight is a big deal…"
The blond swallowed as thoughts of girls entered his head once more.
"But you're growing up faster every day and the day will come where all you'll want to do is spend time with whatever girlfriend you happen to be going steady with. So, I'd like to give ya a little something to remember tonight by."
He pulled out a tiny, glass vial holding a small amount of liquid inside.
"This here is cologne, short man. It's important for a man to have a few bottles on hand for these kinds of occasions. And for your dance, it's time you tried some for the first time. Hold out your hand."
Arnold did as instructed and was given a few dollops of the stuff on the center of his palm.
"Now rub it around your neck and make sure you spread it out evenly."
Again, he did like so and the smell reached his nostrils. It was quite a unique odor, rather pungent though the specific smell was indescribable. He just hoped that the girls would like it at the very least.
"You're all set, short man!" his grandfather said cheerily. "You'll knock em dead for sure!"
"Thanks, Grandpa," Arnold said with a smile. The man always had the ability to either pep him up or bring him down in one fell swoop, but he always meant well and had almost forgotten that recently. He vowed to appreciate his caretakers more often going forward.
"Look at that!" Ernie exclaimed. "He's gonna be the best dressed kid there."
"Of course, he is. Shortman men have a knack for this sort of thing you know," the eighty two year old added proudly. "Picturesque I tell ya."
"And it deserves one too!"
His grandmother stood at the top of the stairs with an old fashioned camera and light shade that looked as if it belonged in the 1860s. She was wearing a 19th century three piece suit along with a top hat similar to the time period. Arnold had no idea where she managed to purchase such equipment but knowing his grandmother it was better not to ask.
Phil apparently thought the same.
"I don't know where ya pulled that piece of junk from, Pookie, but we don't have time for any shenanigans."
"It'll only take a second, Secretary of State Seward. Just strike a good strong pose with Mr. Lincoln."
There was a blinding light and a heavy amount of smoke which filled the hallway in a matter of seconds.
"Christ! The old bird's going to set off the alarm!" Ernie coughed through the acrid fumes.
"Pookie! Put that thing away!"
His grandpa did his best to wave away the smoke while Arnold tried to avoid ruining his tux. Though his grandma was amusing at times with her antics, she could get carried away. She seemed to acknowledge that as well…in her own way.
"Oh dear," she exclaimed as if it were only a minor nuisance. "I used a little too much fire power. Come now, Mr. President, the gala awaits and you shan't keep Mrs. Lincoln waiting," she added with a wink.
It was a bit unnerving when she implied she knew his own mind better than he did. Was she aware of his growing affection for Helga? The desire to see her tonight?
Such thoughts were put on hold when his Grandpa whisked him away downstairs, away from the commotion.
"Sorry about that, short man," he apologized. "You know how your grandmother is sometimes. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you something before you left."
"What is it Grandpa?"
The old man suddenly appeared emotional, as his eyes began to water. It was a rare instance where he looked his age rather than giving off the impression he was eighty two going on thirty five. Arnold couldn't tell whether he looked happy or sad- perhaps it was both.
"You truly are a wonderful son and grandson, Arnold. I know if…Miles and Stella were here…they'd be so proud of you."
This, Arnold had not expected. His grandparents had generally avoided the subject of his lost parents per his own request, but he had to remind himself that he was not the only one wounded by their absence. After all, they were the parents of his father and had known and loved him nearly their entire adult lives. In addition, they had also spoken very highly of his mother and viewed her as an adopted daughter. Even if the pain of that loss ensured he would always be wondering what happened to them, that pain was just as great within his grandparents. The fact that his grandpa would bring up Miles now- it was a way of honoring his son whose essence still lived in the twelve year old before him. For once, the reminder that he lived through his parents didn't just bring pain, it also brought pride.
"Thanks, Grandpa," he said in response and proceeded to give him a hug.
"My pleasure, grandson," Phil replied with a warm smile. "Now what the heck are ya still doing here? Go out there, make some memories and dance like you never have before. And if you come back before ten you're grounded."
Arnold had to stifle a laugh as he adjusted his tie one last time before heading out the door.
"I won't, Grandpa. I promise."
With that, he stepped outside into the street leaving the chaotic sounds of the boarding house behind him. On the bottom step, Gerald was waiting for him looking quite dapper.
"Looking smooth, my brotha."
His best friend had donned a navy suit with a matching tie and polished light brown shoes. Gerald had always been the epitome of the word 'cool' and this was one of many reasons why.
"You're not looking too bad yourself."
"Well, I don't like to brag," Gerald said with a confident smile. "But I had to make sure I wore something that matched Phoebe's dress."
"You had to?"
"More like Phoebe insisted. But it's all good because tonight, P.S. 118 is going to be rockin. Now let's head on…" he stopped and sniffed the air. "What's that smell? Are you wearing cologne?"
"My Grandpa insisted," Arnold shrugged. "Hope it's not too strong."
"Let's also hope it attracts girls instead of repelling them," Gerald joked.
They both laughed, subsequently performed their trademark handshake, and the two friends set off on a night neither would ever forget.
Phoebe Heyerdahl did not like to be late. Punctuality and attendance were extremely important to her and school events were certainly no exception. So after knocking on Helga's door for a third time, she began to worry just what was going on? They wouldn't be there by seven if they didn't depart soon.
She pressed her ear to the door. She could hear various footsteps and activity going on inside the house and even a few shouts. That did not bode well.
"Oh dear," she said to herself.
Just as Phoebe was prepared to knock one more, the door opened without warning, nearly causing her to lose balance and fall over.
"Oh, hello, Phoebe! So good to see you! Helga will be right down. Olga's just adding a few last minute touches to her outfit. Come on in!"
Though she was quite embarrassed at being caught in the act of eavesdropping which was highly inappropriate, she also knew that Helga's parents operated outside the typical norms of conventional family life…much to her best friend's chagrin.
Careful not to trip in the two inch heels she had decided to wear, Phoebe stepped into the house and was quickly reminded why Helga preferred to have their sleepovers at her house.
She hadn't been inside the Pataki residence in quite awhile but it was about the same as she remembered: disorganized and reflective of the family who lived in it. She could hear the sisters arguing upstairs, while Bob Pataki yelled at the TV over a tragic death in the latest soap opera he had become hooked on. Nevertheless, she remained polite whilst she waited for Helga.
"I'm so glad to see you've moved back in," she said in an attempt at light conversation.
"Thank you, dear," Miriam responded kindly, though Phoebe had to wonder if she had consumed any smoothies within the last hour. "It's been so nice to live comfortably again…oh! I love your dress, that's such a nice color on you."
The half Japanese preteen blushed at the remark. Helga's mother could be quite absent minded but she always friendly in her own way, unlike the gruffness of her husband, who could barely remember her name. Besides…she did feel very pretty in her dress. It was a knee length periwinkle color with a layer of tulle to give it an extra poof. Though not a tomboy like Helga, she was also not an overt girly girl like Rhonda either and felt rather insecure about her appearance at times. Opportunities like these really helped her to feel "attractive" for the lack of a better word.
"Girls! Are you almost done up there?" Miriam yelled, breaking Phoebe's train of thought. "Come on down! You're little friend Phoebe is here!"
She was immediately answered by a loud crash and an angry voice that could only belong to one person.
"No, Olga! I don't need another coat of mascara, I have to go! Sheesh!"
Another slam of the door and Helga appeared at the top of the stairs and when she did, Phoebe could hardly believe her eyes.
"Uh, what are you guys staring at?" she snipped as the disbelief continued whilst she made her way down to the first floor.
"I'm sorry, honey, but you just look so beautiful!"
"Ack! Thanks, Mom!" Helga breathed out as she was enveloped by her mother. "But Olga said the same thing fifteen times already."
"Oh, this is so precious….B you have to come in here!" Miriam yelled into the living room.
"Can't hear you, Miriam! Days of our Lives just came on!"
Helga face palmed her hand against her face.
"Never mind that, Mom. We're running late anyway. Let Bob enjoy his root beer and lame excuse for a drama."
She grabbed Phoebe's hand and began pulling her out the door.
"Alright, bye, sweetie!" her mom called after them. "Have a good time!"
"You look amazing, baby sister!" Olga managed to yell out before they shut the door behind them.
"Thank God," Helga said, blowing a sigh of relief. "Criminy! I'm sorry that took so long Pheebs, I was basically Olga's personal dress up doll for nearly two hours. All the clothes, the makeup…I thought I was going to die of shame when she picked out this one thing for me-"
"Helga," Phoebe cut her off.
"What?"
"I couldn't help but notice you look astonishingly beautiful."
And she meant it too. Helga was constantly teased by Harold and others for being unattractive, well they would never look at her the same ever again after tonight. The comment clearly caught the blonde off guard as well, averting her eyes and speaking as if unsure on how to take the compliment.
"Uh…thanks, Pheebs. But it's nothing special, you know. Just something I had to wear for this thing."
"And I'm sure it had nothing to do with ice cream."
That caused Helga to flush pink and she began to walk quickly in the direction of their school.
"Let's just go," she mumbled. "Come on."
Phoebe dutifully obeyed.
"Following."
However, she couldn't help but give one more small giggle. She simply couldn't wait to see how Arnold would react when he laid his eyes on Helga.
The site of the dance, that being the gym, proved to be more impressive than originally anticipated. At least Arnold thought so. The decorations certainly held more pizzazz than they had in years past and he had a feeling Rhonda had something to do with that. There were also a wide variety of dishes and hors d'oeuvres, also most likely influenced by the waspy socialite.
The biggest difference between this year and the dances of their fourth and fifth grade years was the entertainment. There was not enough money in the budget this year for a live band, so the school decided to rent out a DJ who would a play a variety of "hits" that supposedly were popular with the modern youth. This did not sit well with Gerald.
"I'm not so sure about this, man," he said to his best friend as they observed their surroundings with casual curiosity. "I don't like the fact we left the music up to the adults this time around."
"Well with any luck they'll play some decent songs."
"Principal Wartz was the one who hired this DJ. God only knows what that man considers 'popular' music."
Arnold shrugged.
"Guess we'll have to wait and see. By the way, where's Phoebe?"
"She's coming with Helga. Should be here any minute."
Arnold tugged at his collar trying to ignore the strong butterflies that originated in his stomach. They did nothing to assist his nerves, so he resolved to distract himself.
"Well until they get here why don't we say hi to the guys."
Gerald eyebrowed him. He could tell Arnold was restless and had a sneaking suspicion as to why but said nothing for now.
"Fine by me. Might as well kill some time."
Sure enough, they found Harold, Stinky, Sid, Curly, and Eugene hanging out by the bunch bowl as they made casual conversation.
"Hey, guys," Sid greeted. He was in black tux of his own, complete with his usual backwards green hat.
"What's going on, Sid?"
"Honestly, no idea," he replied. "We're just trying to stay occupied. Half the kids haven't even showed up yet."
"Why do we have to have these stupid dances every year, anyway?" Harold grumbled, crossing his arms. "It's the same old thing every time."
"I don't know, I thought the April Fool's Dance was different enough," Eugene said cheerfully, but as he did so he leaned back into the table, lost his balance, and caused the punch bowl to fall straight on his head.
"I'm okay."
"I guess that wasn't," Gerald muttered.
"Eugene, no matter what day it is you're actin like a dang fool," Stinky remarked while shaking his head. "Trouble is, this year you don't get an award for it."
"That's okay," said Eugene popping back up immediately. "The main thing is to have fun!"
"The main thing is to not ruin the party before it even begins with one of your infamous accidents," said a snobbish voice.
Rhonda Lloyd had entered the conversation, Nadine by her side. Arnold had to admit they both looked incredible. The former had decided on a sparkling red dress with an A-line hem at the bottom, giving it a vintage feel, along with black tights and red booties, while the latter had picked out a less glamorous but still nice long sleeved green dress that hung right at the knee. Both had donned a small amount of makeup but clearly, Nadine was not as comfortable in high heels as she struggled to maintain her balance.
"I don't understand how you walk in these things," she said sourly.
"Just keep practicing, Nadine. It becomes second nature after a while."
None of the boys observing this envied the steps girls had to take to look presentable for occasions such as these. But there was no use in arguing that point with Rhonda, who reveled in any chance to look fancy. Mostly they just felt sorry for Nadine.
"Anyway, I must know, did any of you bring a date tonight?" she asked.
"Rhonda, you know I'm going out with Phoebe," said Gerald, rolling his eyes.
"You don't count," she said. "I meant the others among your group."
"Who needs girls," Harold dismissed.
"I didn't really know who to ask," Stinky said scratching his head.
"I don't think any of us besides Gerald have dates," Arnold cut in, saving everyone else the trouble. "What about you? Do you have one?"
This put Rhonda in an awkward position, as she looked down and put her arms behind her back.
"Well…I-uh that is-"
"Aha! You don't have one either!" Harold laughed.
"Seeing as no one asked me, I decided to go stag," she said haughtily.
"I ASKED YOU BABYCAKES!" Curly shouted as he leapt out of nowhere, eyeing Rhonda like a dog desiring a bone. She gracefully, sidestepped his advances however, as he landed with a painful thud on the floor.
"I meant no one besides you, you little creep," Rhonda sneered.
"Be real, would you have said 'yes' to any guy in our class?" Gerald asked her.
"As a matter of fact, I would have," she sniffed. "I'm not that picky."
Nadine gave a small snort of disbelief, while Gerald gave Arnold a knowing look. This dance, though more extravagant that some they had experienced in the past, had the potential to be ten times more awkward. The possibility of having a date added a certain degree of pressure that had not been present before, but the reality of being sixth graders meant that no one knew what they were doing when it came to boy-girl interaction. Not even someone as socially outgoing as Rhonda.
"Well let's just try to have some fun and dance with whoever we want," said Arnold trying to lighten the mood, despite his own misgivings. "It doesn't matter if someone has a date or not."
"That's the spirit, Arnold!" came the cheerful voice of Mr. Simmons.
They all turned and saw the smiling, youthful face of their old teacher, who had dressed up himself in a light blue suit with a vest, and a white frilled shirt.
"Mr. Simmons? What are you doing here?" Sid asked.
"Well I volunteered to be something of a chaperone for tonight's big dance," he said in his usual pleasant tone. "Plus, it gave me a chance to see you all again. I must say you all look positively wonderful. It brings me such joy to see you grow up and become inspiring pre-adults. But I would also add that Arnold is correct. There's no shame in not having a date, especially for those so young. Just have a great time and let the evening play itself out."
The former pupils smiled in appreciation. There was no doubt Mr. Simmons could be a bit overbearing with the endless positivity, but he meant well, and he had been an excellent and engaging teacher, unlike Mr. Frank. Even Rhonda and Nadine seemed to relax a little more than they had before.
"Thanks, Mr. Simmons," Arnold said in appreciation. "It's good to see you."
"It's good to see you as well. Now head on over to your tables and eat some dinner. I'm told the DJ still needs time to set up."
They did so, with Arnold and Gerald joining Harold, Stinky, Sid, and Eugene at one table while Rhonda and Nadine went over to sit with Sheena and Lila. It was a few minutes past seven and though most of the students had arrived by now, there was still one burning question on Arnold's mind: where was Helga? He barely touched his food while the rest of his friends made casual conversation. Every so often he would look at the gym entrance to check if she was there.
"Arnold, this is the fourth time in the last half hour you've checked over your shoulder, are you waiting on someone?" Gerald asked him quietly.
"I mean…not really," he said lamely.
"Is that so? Because if anything I should be the one checking every five minutes. My girlfriend isn't even here yet."
"And she's with Helga."
"Right. So unless you're just super excited to see Phoebe, I'd say you've got another reason."
The implication was clear. Arnold, being who he was when it came to his romantic feelings, wasn't sure how to respond to Gerald's inquiry, which sounded more like an accusation. But he didn't have to say anything. Not after what came next.
There was a hushed gasp, and the room became much quieter than it had a few seconds earlier and it wasn't hard to see why. Phoebe looked incredibly pretty and Gerald practically had metaphorical hearts in his eyes. But that wasn't what captured the crowd's attention.
In walked Helga Pataki- only it couldn't be Helga Pataki. For she was universally known as the toughest kid in school with an attitude to match. A mean, selfish bully who cared only for asserting her own will on the other hapless souls that wandered the hallways of P.S. 118. The image before them was anything but.
If Phoebe was 'pretty' then Helga was positively radiant. She donned an ankle length, short sleeved, rose colored dress that highlighted her slim but developed figure and her hair was straightened to perfection, reaching past her shoulders and down onto her upper back. Her makeup consisted of bright red lips, eyeliner, and a blush that left her cheeks as rosy as a nippy autumn day. To top it off, she wore three inch pink heels, white elbow length gloves, and her signature bow to complete the look. Simply put, she lit up the room.
Arnold began to sweat every so slightly. He had entertained in his mind the chance that Helga might wear something elegant, but this was…well there was almost no way to describe this. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and if his nerves had been strong before, they had since increased tenfold.
He wasn't the only one who was left speechless. Apart from a few scattered whispers here and there, the fifth and sixth graders were just as mesmerized as he was. Even Gerald was impressed, as the two girls walked over to take a seat with Rhonda's table, who's occupants also held no words to say. Helga was the star of the room and the night had barely begun. Stranger still, the blonde girl held her temper in check even as she was ogled by every passer by. Though she did snarl and leer at a few fifth graders, she largely ignored the stares and whispering.
"What is going on here?" Gerald spoke aloud, echoing the sentiment that everyone had been thinking.
It was a rhetorical exercise; the rest of the students went back to their meals and chatter slowly resumed its normal pace. But for those who had known Helga the longest, this was something else entirely. Especially for one blond boy in particular.
"Boy howdy, did you see Helga?"
"I reckon we all did, Sid."
"I can't believe that was her! She's so ugly most of the time. What the heck happened?"
Arnold didn't join the gossiping, rather he found it almost irresistible to look over at the girls table to get another look at Helga. It wasn't shock that motivated him now, but pure attraction. Even Gerald didn't bother to stop his constant gazing, though he did shake his head a few times as Harold ate the rest of his mashed potatoes when he wasn't looking. Not that the blond preteen cared.
I-I can't believe what I'm seeing. I mean…Helga was never 'unattractive' but now she's….
Beautiful. That was the only word for her. Simply beautiful. And it caused his heart to pound and his gut to do tricks he had not thought possible.
Helga never turned around to catch his eye as he hoped, however, Rhonda and Nadine certainly did, and they giggled each time they caught him doing so. Even Lila picked up on his glancing and smiled slyly as if to say, 'I know, Arnold.' Not even his former crush was enough to sway him from his constant attention to the blonde girl that had stolen all of his focus.
It did not go unnoticed.
Needless to say, the dinner portion of the event eased by rather quickly and soon Principal Wartz stood in front of the microphone, gesturing the students to come hither around the dance floor. He was dressed in his usual attire except with a blazer and carried a look of immense self satisfaction.
"Gather around, kids. The music is just about to start as we finally have the sound board set up. Get ready to have some fun!"
The students obliged, though not very enthusiastically as many seemed to share Gerald's skepticism that their thoroughly uncool principal had anything planned that could be considered remotely 'fun.'
"Well, I reckon the old fat guy is tryin to sell us that he found something cool this year," said Stinky as they stood facing the stage.
"Yeah and I have some swampland in Florida I want to show you," Gerald cracked, causing the rest of the boys to laugh.
"Well, maybe he did find a half-decent DJ," Arnold said optimistically.
"Mhm, and that swamp in Florida is looking real good right now."
Despite the skepticism, the crowd of fifth and sixth graders did quiet down enough to let their principal say a few more words.
"Well then boys and girls, I welcome you all to the first annual fifth grade/sixth grade dance. There are just a few items that I need to go over before the festivities begin…ahem," he cleared his throat and put on his glasses to read off of the notecard he held in front of him. "No mayhem or destruction of property, I will not have vandals at P.S. 118. Second, no illicit dancing of any sort. And last be aware that any direct violation of school policy will be met with immediate removal from the dance and possible suspension thereafter. Are there any questions?"
If crickets were within the vicinity, they would have chirped.
"Right then. Well, it is now my pleasure to introduce the DJ for the night, Mike Perrino! And he has quite the playlist for you kids."
There was some scattered applause, as a man of about thirty with a brown goatee stepped to the front with an assortment of equipment. He wore a 'NOFX' t-shirt and sunglasses (which Arnold found to be odd) but otherwise was rather uninspiring.
"How you doing tonight, P.S. 118?! Are you ready to dance your tails off?"
More silence cut off any momentum the man had, as he gave an awkward cough and continued.
"Right, well uh, my name is Mike Perrino. I'll be your DJ tonight and uh...here's the first song."
He put on a pair of earphones, pressed a button, and went to work as music began to play over the speakers.
'Fly Away' by Lenny Kravitz was first, and though that song was popular on the charts, the awkwardness of hormonal teens and preteens dominated the atmosphere, and no one moved an inch towards the dance floor. Indeed, the DJ seemed puzzled, and increased the volume of the music in order to subtly encourage the students.
It did nothing as the kids remained glued to their respective spots, decisively uninspired and anxious. This course remained as the second song began to play, 'Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)' by the Offspring. By now, even Principal began to look at his watch as if anticipating his charges would stampede the floor at any moment. Alas, he was sadly mistaken.
As the music continued, some of the boys began to express mild confusion coupled with a degree of anxiety.
"Uh…are we supposed to dance now?" Stinky drawled.
"No crap, that's what the music is for!" replied Harold.
"So, why don't you go out there and dance?" said Sid.
"I can't…that means I'll have to ask a girl!"
"I thought you didn't care about girls, Bubba," Gerald pointed out.
"So?! That doesn't mean I'm going out there without one."
Arnold looked around and indeed that seemed to be the crux of the issue and it wasn't merely the boys who were running a bit scared from making a move. The girls were chatting amongst themselves, but they seemed just as nerve wracked as their male counterparts at the prospect of dancing or asking someone to dance. Both sides were at an impasse and neither appeared inclined to make the first move.
That's when his eyes landed on the girl he had been eyeing practically all night. And this time, she met his gaze, green orbs locking with blue ones as the outside chatter and music disappeared from his ears….
In that moment, Arnold blocked out almost everything around him. He knew what he needed to do- there was a single objective and nothing and no one would stop him from doing so. Slowly, he began to walk across the gym towards where most of the girls had congregated.
There was only one he intended to dance with tonight.
It was no secret who Helga wanted to dance with. Out of every scenario she could have envisioned, none of her girlhood fantasies could compare with the idea of dancing the night away with her beloved Arnold. That had been a mere dream…until now that is.
Phoebe and Lila had been telling her all evening how he hadn't been able to stop looking in her direction, but the defensive part of herself (still very strong even now) refused to let herself get her hopes up. So what if she turned some heads? Arnold hadn't been the only one to look in her direction. It had taken every ounce of self control not to introduce the lot of them to old Betsy right then and there. But she had persuaded herself to let it go for now, it was only one stupid school dance after all. Everyone was dressed like a posh moron.
Well, life had a way of throwing her curveballs and this was just the latest. No one had moved a muscle since the first song played, as chatty girls wondered when which guy would come over and ask them to dance, the more bold ones suggesting that one of them make the first move. But no one had had the guts to do anything thus far. Even Rhonda Lloyd had lost her usual air of superiority.
The mood of the evening, the very limits of her imagination itself, were about to be pushed. Arnold was walking straight towards her, his intent quite clear from the determination in his eyes. There was no mistaking it either. Having known the football head for practically her whole life, she recognized by now when he was set on doing something…he was going to ask her to dance.
No, it-it can't be. Out of all the girls here, why would he choose me? He can't be prepared to ask me…it's impossible…he's probably going to ask Rhonda or Lila or something.
Old anger surged through her at the mention of her old nemesis, who (admittedly through no fault of her own) had competed with her for Arnold's affections since fourth grade. Helga did not harbor the same resentment towards her now as she did then, but when it came to her love for her football headed angel, all bets were off. Even so, that did not quash the flight response every fiber of her being was urging to do.
He's almost here…I can't believe this…he's really coming up to ME. ME of all people and in front of everyone. This is everything I ever wanted, but how can I say 'yes' with witnesses around?! Ugh, do I smell okay? I think Phoebe might have some mints…does he have cologne on?
"Helga?"
Her intense internal dialogue had almost caused her to forget how close he was and by the time he was only a few feet in front of her it was too late to use any sort of excuse to save face. Arnold, looking as handsome as he ever had, was offering his hand out in a gentlemanly gesture.
"W-what do you want, football head?" she spoke so shakily it was a miracle she got the words out at all.
"May I have this dance?"
It dawned on Helga that Arnold was just as nervous as she was. Though he was smiling and holding his hand in a friendly gesture, he was also blushing furiously which only enacted her to do the same. In years past she might have done all manner of nasty or horrible things: pushing him away, rejecting his offer in a show of dominance, humiliating him with a mashed potato bomb, jeering at his advances while everyone laughed…but it would not be so tonight. For despite the walls that automatically popped up, they were not strong enough to hold back her deepest desire. Not this time.
"I-uh…yes," she finally replied and offered a satin gloved hand in return. She placed it in his, and with a smile and a step forward, the two blonds were leading the way onto the makeshift dance floor.
Immediately the song changed, as the intro to the Barenaked Ladies 'One Week' began to play, infusing an energy into the crowd that had been missing up until that point.
It gave newfound enthusiasm into the blonds as well, loosening both of their inhibitions as the catchy beat began to take hold.
"Hope you're ready for this, Arnoldo. Just so you know, I'm no pushover when it comes to dancing."
"Oh, I think I'll be just fine," Arnold replied with a knowing smile. "Let's just say, I know a move or two."
"Well I hope it's more enjoyable than that cologne you're wearing. Where'd you get that stuff from, your grandpa's medicine cabinet?"
Arnold couldn't help but laugh knowing how accurate she was. And with that, he wasted no time in swinging her around as the first part of the verse echoed from the speakers.
"It's been, one week since you looked at me…"
Phoebe could barely believe her eyes when she saw Arnold and Helga taking the dance floor together, but perhaps she should not have been so surprised. After all, she had been sensing the two were getting closer for weeks. And it certainly didn't hurt that her best friend was the most stunning girl in the whole school.
She observed as the two blonds laugh and practically glide around the gym floor without care or fear of judgement from anyone. It made Phoebe feel a rare boldness and as her own premonitions left her mind.
Strolling to where most of the boys were idly standing with their hands in their pockets, she quickly found her boyfriend and pulled him away.
"Phoebe what are you-"
"Hush, Gerald. Just be thankful I'm not upset that you failed to ask me first."
"Okay," he replied sheepishly, though he soon realized she was not angry with him, as she smiled, put her hand in his, and proceeded to mimic their two best friends in moving to the beat.
Indeed, this seemed to galvanize the rest of the students into joining them as the validation of seeing their peers dance was the spark needed to push them to enter the fray.
Within minutes pairs had been formed- Harold with Rhonda, Sid and Nadine, Stinky and Lila, even Eugene had found Sheena and were performing their classic 'jump' routine to the annoyance of some of the other couples.
The atmosphere had changed so dramatically, the DJ barely had time to process it. The kids were so enthusiastic that some had begun to crowd surf, much to the chagrin of Principal Wartz, who vainly tried to halt the rulebreakers. Song after song came and went, an assortment of different genres, but all providing a natural groove for those gifted and those with two left feet.
And it was clear to everyone that Arnold and Helga were two of the most gifted. From their routine of the Red Hot Chili Peppers 'Give It Away' to 'Getting Jiggy With It' by Will Smith (a personal favorite of Gerald's), they had a move for every occasion. But talent alone didn't make them the hit of the night, whether either realized it or not there was a growing connection, a natural movement that allowed the two blonds to build off of each other. And as the night went on, both felt more and more comfortable with each other.
Arnold was getting lost in the girl that he had known almost his entire life as a bully but was capturing his heart with each passing second. He loved everything about her in that moment- her hair, the way her dress swished about as she danced, every elegant movement, laughter, and smile….God did he love that smile. Helga rarely ever gave genuine ones and even when she did they rarely matched her eyes, which were often full of fury and daggers. But tonight, her happiness was pure and untainted by cynicism and negativity. He knew this was the real Helga, the part of herself she usually kept locked away from prying eyes. And here was the living proof.
Helga on the other hand was just living pure bliss. Only in her dreams had something like this occurred. For years, she had continually pushed him away in the most crucial moments where she had gotten close to admitting the truth: that she was head over heels, fully certified, crazy for him. And for once in her life, the fear and anger that usually dominated her treatment of her beloved had subsided. To move her body with his, to feel the rhythm of the music, knowing that she had been the one he had chosen of his own volition, was the happiest reality she had ever known.
In fact, she was having so much fun, she failed to realize she and Arnold had been dancing for a full two and a half hours and last call had been announced.
"Alright boys and girls!" the DJ announced into the microphone. He looked exhausted and was sweating but pleased nonetheless that the event had been a success, even if the gym was a total wreck. Wasn't his problem as long as he got paid.
"We're coming to end of the annual fifth grade/sixth grade dance and we have time for one last song. So catch your breath, because this final number is a slow one. If you have a girlfriend or boyfriend I suggest you take the opportunity to pair up now."
Some of the crowd exited the floor, worn out from the nonstop dancing having had enough for one night. But a handful remained, including Arnold and Helga, who looked at each other, both wanting to ask the other the same question.
"I…"
"One more?" Arnold finished for her, beaming as he held out his hand once more.
Helga took it again in a reciprocating gesture.
"Let's do this, football head," she said with a grin.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the sound of a soft saxophone began playing in the background. Everyone recognized the tune immediately as 'I'll Be' by Edwin McCain, one of the sappiest, romantic tunes of pop radio in 1998.
Criminy, of all the songs this DJ had to play…
But Arnold's touch dissuaded her from shying away, in fact she drew closer to him as the song began.
"The strands in your eyes, that color them wonderful, stop me, steal my breath…"
Following the first verse, Helga did something she never thought she'd do but could not resist, she placed both her arms around his neck while Arnold placed both of his hands around her waist. Slowly, moving to the bass of the song, they began to dance as one.
"And tell me, that we belong together…"
Helga wanted that…oh how she wanted to hear her beloved tell them they were destined to be together forever.
"I'll be your crying shoulder, I'll be love's suicide…"
Though she wore heels, Arnold remained at eye level length with Helga, swaying with her gracefully, getting lost in the beautiful melody in all its wondrous declarations of love.
"You're my survivor, you're my living proof, my love is alive and not dead…"
He was the reason she had any purpose at all. The perpetual dysfunction of her family, ignored as if she didn't exist, sprinkled in with her constant cruelty towards those around her, too afraid that one mistake, one vulnerability would ruin her…Arnold made that go away. To dream, to write, to worship him for years as she did, to live through his inherent selfishness the ability to see good in everyone, it kept her spirit alive. As long as she drew breath, she wouldn't allow Arnold to slip into the melancholy that had so plagued his soul. Helga could live with the fact that she was a basket case…and would keep her beloved from becoming the same.
"Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above…"
It hit Arnold right then and there that Helga filled a purpose in his life that had been missing for what seemed like an eternity. No, he could never replace his parents, but what if he had found someone that could lessen that pain? That not only challenged him but ensured that he was saved from himself? To swing even when you're down in the count against Lightning Lenny, to get up and do something even when you were at your worst. He had never imagined one human being could have made such an impact on him in such a short amount of time. Even after his obsession with Lila, with Ruth, with other girls, could the person he had overlooked been right there in front of him all along? Was that person, Helga G. Pataki?
"And I'll be your crying shoulder, I'll be love's suicide…"
The blonde girl's heart was pounding, but by the same token she had never felt so calm, so safe, so happy. Being wrapped in his arms, she could hardly control her euphoria.
"And I'll be, better when I'm older, I'll be the greatest fan of your life…"
His gaze was transfixed onto her, green eyes pouring into blue ones. He didn't speak but he had no need to. At the moment, his heart conducted all the talking.
"The greatest fan of your life…"
The song ended, and the crowd began to cheer, but it took the blonds quite a bit of time to notice. It was only thirty seconds later that they finally ceased their movement and broke apart, and even then, they could hardly take their eyes off of each other.
"Well then, I'd say that was a great dance everyone!" said Mr. Simmons speaking into the microphone as Principal Wartz was busy scolding certain students for minor transgressions during the dance. "Take home more food if you'd like. If you need a ride, make sure to call your parents or let me know if you need other arrangements. Remember also to take all of your belongings…"
Simmons' voice seemed to bring back Arnold and Helga to reality as they soon realized they were still standing in the middle of the dance floor, earning a few curious glances as the rest of the students began to disperse.
The bliss each had felt during the last song morphed into a nervous awkwardness that both were keenly aware of. It was almost like waking up from a dream…only this wasn't a dream and reality had a way of bringing people back to earth.
"So…" Helga began, her cheeks flushing pink
"So…." replied Arnold, copying her blush.
"That was…really great," she said slowly. "I had fun, a lot of fun actually."
"Me too," Arnold agreed, and he began rubbing his had on the back of his neck. "In fact, that may have been the best one yet. You're a really good dancer."
"So are you," she smiled back.
There was another short awkward pause before Helga cut in again.
"Well, it's late…I should probably grab Pheebs and head out."
"Yeah me too."
She turned to leave but not before Arnold lightly grabbed her gloved hand once more, bending down to kiss it in a gentlemanly fashion.
"Thank you for the great night, Helga."
The blonde girl withdrew her hand but not before giving him one last beautiful smile.
"No, thank you, Arnold," she said softly. "I'll see you Monday."
The two blonds then departed, as Helga lifted her dress up to avoid some of the debris that lay on the ground, calling out to Phoebe, who had just kissed Gerald good night. As the girls left the gym, the black preteen made his way to Arnold, still rooted to the spot where he had kissed her hand.
"Man, what a night, I swear I'm going to be feeling the groove into the morning…you okay buddy?" he asked.
"Oh…yeah I'm fine," Arnold replied as he was having a hard time drawing his gaze from where he had last seen Helga exit. "Better than that actually."
Gerald knew exactly what he was referring to and it only confirmed what he had surmised earlier: that his best friend was now fully smitten with Helga Pataki and knowing Arnold, nothing would dissuade him from acting on those feelings.
"Alright well, you want to head out and hang back at your place? Harold, Stinky, and Sid got some root beer and snacks."
"Sure, sounds good."
In the back of his mind, Gerald couldn't help but be concerned. Even when his own girlfriend tried to assure him that nothing bad would come of this newfound romance, his instincts told him otherwise. As promised, he wouldn't bring it up to Arnold. But that did not stop his anxiety over what might happen if the two ended up in a relationship and how Helga might behave once in said relationship. Still he put in the back of his mind, as they grabbed their jackets and headed out of the gym like the rest of their peers.
"Some dance, huh?" he said. "I'll never forget it."
"Neither will I," agreed Arnold, still holding a love-struck expression on his face. "Not in a million years."
Gerald turned away privately.
That's what worries me.
The temperature was quite cool, but Helga felt as if she were floating on a warm cloud made of pure bliss. The night had gone so perfectly and nothing could ruin it. It was better than her fantasies…because this one had come to fruition in a way she had never thought possible.
Oh my beloved, Arnold! Words cannot possible tell the full depth of my happiness on this fateful night. To be the object of your affection, to be in your arms enjoying the sweet embrace of your touch, dancing without care…as one. Never shall I forget this magical moment of love. Yet, there is one thing I still have yet to admit…
Phoebe couldn't help but notice how dreamy eyed Helga was and it warmed her heart. Though she had excitedly anticipated tonight's event as another 'first' for her and Gerald, there was no doubt it turned into something much more significant and meaningful for her best friend. She already had her 'prince charming' so to speak, and Helga got her first opportunity to be with the boy she had loved for years. True to her nature, she felt much happier for her than she did for herself.
"I guess these school dances do have some uses after all," she said aloud, and it got Helga's attention. But this time there was no mean attempt at humor, nor cynical, snarky comment to rebuke Phoebe's observation.
"Yeah, I guess they do."
Taking off her heels (her feet were killing her) and slinging them over her shoulder she gave one more dreamy sigh before continuing down the street back towards her home, Phoebe in tow. A night like this didn't need any more words to define it. Helga just wanted to reflect on the perfect memory of dancing all night with Arnold.
At least before next Monday came around.
That was one hell of a chapter to write! And it opens so many possibilities! What happens when they see each other again? And don't judge Gerald's lingering worries too harshly. This is only the beginning of the journey. As of now, consider this the end of Act 1 of 'More Than You Bargained For.'
Next chapter will be pretty short and come quickly! Stay tuned and rock on!
~The Wasp