Thanks for the follows and reviews:P

"Because this song is trash."

"That's a legit reason." He licks his lips slowly and quirks his brow. "Then would it be alright if we keep talking? I love the sound of your voice. It's a feminine voice, but it has that smoky, Lauren Bacall quality to it. You remind me of her in general."

Helga bats a skeptical eye and her slender arms wrap around herself. She notices the confidence seeping out of his pores. He seriously thinks that's going to work? Oh, how little we know. Briefly, a smirk plays on her lips. "Look, bub, cheesy flattery will get you nowhere." Huffing, softly she drops her arms and shrugs. "So Flann is it?" He half smiles with a head bow. "If you wanna talk, then just talk. But cut the daddy cool shit."

"I'm only speaking honestly." His thin lips curve a smirking smile. His fingers rake through his crinkly mane. "Well ...let's see. Let's stick to this lovely voice of yours." His hazel eyes light up like he has an idea. Moving into her, he whispers, "Say. How about we get out of here? I would love to hear such a sexy girl like you sweetly moaning my name."

Her stretch opens like saucers. "ARGH! Are you kidding me?!" She forcefully shoves him back. "Just because you cracked one joke, which by the way, I was laughing at you, not with you. Doesn't mean you get access to enter my pants."

"But you're not wearing pants. That pink number is hugging you in all the right places. And it's doing things to me that I can't control." His fingers dig into his pocket. "Now my cars outside so let's-"

Her jaw clenches. "I wouldn't touch you with a homeless guy's-"

"Chill, don't get so saucy, although," He petitions with his hands for her to calm down but also waggles his brows. "It's turning me on."

EW! "Would it turn you on if I punched your teeth down your throat." She bucks her whole body threateningly, and he blatantly recoils. "Now scram!" cowering and he slowly backs steps. Probably feeling grateful for the booming bass that drowned out her shouting. But still, he spins around and hightails out.

Helga watches him scamper. I can always count on creeps to be the biggest wussies. Then shuts her eyes, slowly counting to ten to force down her hot temper and drags her feet over by Phoebe. "Having an okay time?" she beams, evidently unaware of Helga's previous interaction.

"Yeah, splendid." She dryly states and spots someone attempting to make eyes with her. "Ugh," She shivers. "I'm already over this; I'm outta here for real." The sleazy remark coinciding with Arnold passing her by in such a swift matter made her insides peel.

Phoebe tugs at her arm. "Why? If you leave, you'll miss out on all the potential fun."

Squinting, Helga half-heartedly scans their surroundings in a false attempt at searching for something worthwhile. "I don't see any potential?" Her eyes fall to attire. "A chick puts on a dress, and goes from chop liver to the finest steak." She grips her forehead. "Men are idiots. I don't see how you girly girls do it on the daily."

"I wouldn't call myself much of a girly girl." Her cheeks lightly color. "Not all men carry themselves with less than ideal manners. And at one point you wore dresses every day."

Helga snorts. "I didn't have a choice. My cheapo parents made me wear Olga's hand-me-downs!" Helga waves a hand. "And besides, that was back when we were all built like stick figures. It's different now." Phoebe nods in agreement. "I just wasted minutes of my life that I will never get back talking to a pervert. He took one look at me in this and only wanted to bed me." her mouth contorts in nausea. "I should listen to my instincts and socked him the second he opened his mouth."

"Helga. Stay. You're such an excellent dancer." She clasps her hands in excitement. "Why don't you show everyone here the right way to do it out there?"

Phoebe's comment earns her a snort. "That's not gonna work, smart gal." Helga playfully pokes her. "Besides," Her eyes go to Arnold's ex-girlfriend who looks every bit of the future prom queen. "One of my partners is in the mix. I wouldn't want to." She pauses, and genuineness presents itself on her face. "Come off as some arrogant show-off."

Phoebe does a slightly over the top gasp. "You wouldn't?"

Helga rolls her eyes. "Get serious. I don't have to go around boasting about what I can do."

"But you do a lot of boasting with sports you can play..." Phoebe counters.

Helga sucks her teeth. "That's different! People don't expect a girl to be a boss player. Plus, psyching out the competition is part of the fun." Helga notices a flash of yellow strolling past once again; whistling. Her eyes jump ahead to see Lila daintily and surprisingly standing alone. Cringing, she turns her back to whatever was about to happen. "And FYI, ballet for me is more of an expression than just a match of abilities."

"I know." Phoebe subtly follows where her gaze went. "But what if ice cream asks you to dance?"

"Don't call him that; we left junior high ages ago." Helga puts her hands on her hips. "If he asked me to dance." She puffs out a breath. "Like I'd care." Helga nonchalantly stares down at her polished nails. "And even if I did... that would never happen."

"What makes you say that?"

Exaggeratedly she grunts. "Doi Pheebs! Have you forgotten that hair boy once dated Sloane? The chick makes Lila Sawyer look like an amateur. Who speaking of Miss Perfect, he's probably going to ask her at some point tonight." Her jaw slacks and almost making her look a bit dejected.

Phoebe reaches a hand out to her shoulder but decides to draw back. "And you had a courtship with Rex Palmer."

"So? Why are you bringing up old history?"

"Exactly. My point is that's the past. History," Phoebe shrugs. "Arnold and Sloane parted ways. And furthermore, it would be an irrational decision on Arnold's part to date the same type of girl."

Helga props one hand on her hipbone. "And yet the dweeb crushed on that prototype for years."

"Correct, but you cannot entirely fault him, he was younger and-"

"Dumber." Helga finishes up for her with heavy snark.

Phoebe gives a tight lip grin. "I was going to say inexperienced. But your word fits too." that earns her a brief laugh from Helga. "Also, Arnold hasn't shown interest in Lila since elementary. Maybe, after doing some reflection, he's become more curious about a very different type of young lady."

Helga looks like she is soaking it in but as the seconds sped on her general unimpressed glare shapes. "Eh, I need to load up on some snacks."

She grabs a tiny paper plate and dumps on a little of everything. Phoebe arrives by her side. "But you know what, Helga, even if we did not get asked to dance. By the ideal candidates. We can still have a fantastic time. Because we're smart, young women who can make the best out of any circumstance. We always end up creating dazzling memories no matter what."

A smirk slides on her face, but it is more of the kind she does when impressed. Helga can't decide who her statement is more intended for between the two of them. "That's the truth, very much so Pheebs." But then she spots Phoebe adjusting her glasses while stealing a look at at a particular person. "Hmm, while I applaud your enthusiasm. However, I bet you're still hoping a specific bloke asks for your hand."

Phoebe's turns beet red. "I don't have any interests in such matters." Helga exaggeratedly nods. "Our relationship came to a close a year ago." She rolls her eyes as Helga continues doing sarcastic nods. "So there's no need to get my hopes up about something that may not happen."

Helga studies her, and she places a comforting palm on Phoebe's upper arm. "Hey. There is a chance; I know you still have certain sentiments." She offers a genuine smile when the petite one gaze lifts. "You never know what the evening can bring."

Partially smiling, she nudges Helga's abdomen. "That's what I've been trying to get through to you this whole time."

Arnold finally comes back to the side of his best friend, and Gerald immediately rests his arm on his shoulder. He motions in the direction of two different beauties. "Ay on the real, I hope you succeed with that 'cause I'm already getting sick of you pining."

"I don't pine," Arnold wearily argues.

But before Gerald could remark, a familiar tune starts to play, and smoothly he smiles. "You hear that? That's my cue; I'm gonna-"

"Ask Phoebe to dance. Right?" Arnold finishes off.

Gerald's cheeks flush. "That obvious?" That earns him a raised brow. He shrugs and smacks Arnold's shoulder. "I gotta go groove; you take it easy."

He gives Phoebe a quick once-over. "Hi Phoebe, you look lovely as usual."

She gives a tiny nod. "Hello Gerald, thank you, you look quite handsome yourself." His eyes slowly move to Helga. "Would you excuse us, Pataki?"

Initially, she continues death glaring but notices Phoebe making a head motion. Knowing what she is signaling, Helga sighs. "Alright but just remember that," Her index finger dangles in Gerald's face. "vanity and pure happiness are incompatible." With a subtle twirl, she gives the two their privacy.

"Huh?" His brow furrows, and his confused rounded eyes follow her.

Phoebe secretively smiles. "Oh, you know Helga." She says to encourage a conversation change. Frowning still, he scratches her head but resumes his coolness. He leans in to whisper in Phoebe's ear, making her jump into a fit of giggles.

After minutes of lumbering around, she finds a spot to lounge. When skimming around, she catches Gerald and Phoebe completely engaged in a conversation. It all looks like casual convo on the surface but, Helga notes the subtle way he winks. And the reddish tinge to Phoebe's cheeks. Something is developing, something innocent, but tender. And to that, her mouth curls up a bit.

The bit of joy dwindles when she sees a shadow of someone nearer her chair. Her hands ball into a fist. "What?!"

The blond guy raises his hands in defense. "I come in peace," He says almost robotically and lowers his hands, putting one of them half way in his pants pocket. "Can I sit down?"

"Oh, it's you." The intensity of her scowl subsides. "Do as you wish, I don't care."

Arnold pulls the chair out next to her and sits down. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, having a ball." She rests her chin on her palm looking every bit of bored. Her eyes do a side peek at him, and she puffs out a breath. "I've been like perv-bait tonight."

"What do you mean?" Arnold's eyebrows furrowed. "Have some jerks been harassing you?"

Helga notices concern and anger on him. Sweet, Arnold, always invested in the well-being of others. "I got rid of 'em; it was a cinch. So don't worry your little football head."

"Okay..." His tension abates, remembering Helga's inherent abilities to stand up for herself, so that knowledge put his mind at ease. "Well, good because you look too great to leave because of some idiots." Helga bows her head. Arnold watching realizes she's trying to hide the rosiness her light makeup can't conceal. That was the first genuine compliment she's received tonight. Smiling adoringly at her without being careful, he reaches over to his cup and accidentally knocks it over. Becoming aware of his mishap, he wipes it up before it ran all over. "Sorry." He mutters and continues cleaning. "I guess I'm clumsy today."

Helga's eyes move up and down him. "Could you please keep your clumsiness under control? I'd rather not go home looking like a damn murder scene."

He runs a palm down his face. "Yeah..." Then jogs off to throw everything away. Once back, he pulls the chair lightly back, leaning on it. "Sorry again, I guess you wouldn't want to me sit here again." He awkwardly titters. "Or would you?"

Her eyes narrow substantially, and her jaw tightens. "Yeah, I forbid you from sitting here or anywhere with four legs." At the levels of his cluelessness, she snorts and sighs exhaustively. "I'm kidding, hair boy."

Arnold sheepishly smiles. "I knew that."

Helga rolls her eyes. "Sure you did." She notices how he's still shuffling his feet. "Criminy, I don't own the chairs. Cop a squat if you want."

"Right," he runs his fingers through his hair. Stop being so dorky and spineless. Arnold sighs and sits down still maintaining a slight smile. His gaze follows hers. "Why aren't you out there?"

"Why aren't you?" She asks in her defensive tone.

A secretive grin materializes. "I don't know." He twiddles his thumbs. "I guess I hadn't found the motivation."

Helga snorts a few times in a row, and Arnold raises a curious brow. "Only a geek like you needs 'motivation' to participate in a normal teenage activity."

While listening to her cackle, he shifts in his chair with a smirk playing on his lip. Instead of holding back, he says what first comes to mind. "You're one to talk." Her half smile wipes off. "At least I don't need to use a prank as an excuse to dance with someone in the first place."

Even when Helga had a boyfriend or a date she rarely danced at parties. "I have no idea what you're babbling about, football head." Helga feels her face heat up when he rests one arm on the back of his chair. A crook smile is playing on his lips that shouldn't be so appealing, but it is. She has to drop her gaze while trying to maintain a look of disdain. In doing so, she notes how meticulously neat his clothes are while his hair appears to be intentionally scruffy.

"Lying, tsk, tsk..." He ribs, popping her out of her little bubble. Softly but smugly he whispers, "You know what I'm talking about."

Helga sarcastically does a couple of nods. "Do I?"

"Yeah," There's laughter in his voice. "that time I had you shaking in your boots."

Helga shifts her weight with a glare and sees an energetic humor in his eyes. "That's a riot and everything. But false retelling of history isn't cool dude."

Leaning back, the amusement on him is still present. "Oh, I forgot," He squints. "nothing scares Helga G. Pataki, right?"

"Eh..." She shrugs. "Now that I think about it, you're half right. I would need a prank to go through with tangling with a sap like you."

He laughs with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "Who tossed you in the pool."

She hits her fist against the table and encloses the space between them. "And got pulled in 3 seconds later. Like the chump that you are!"

Arnold haughtily grins and leans in too. "I was trying to help you out. That's called being polite, something you act like you know nothing about."

Helga sneers and a groan spills out of her mouth.

"Uh-oh..." Gerald lowers his posture to her ear. "They're going at it. Maybe we should-"

"No," Phoebe firmly whisper. "I think we should let them handle it."

Helga nods with a quick grin. "Ah, whoa ho ho, well, well, well, look who finally grew a pair."

Arnold taps her arm. "Always had a pair, sweetheart."

Snarling she pushes his hand away. "call me that again and I'll-"

"What?" He slowly curls his lip. "You play all big and bad, but we both know the truth."

Narrowing her eyes and tightening her mouth she just stares at him for a moment. "Keep testing me, and you'll be-"

"Eh... Sitting here, chilling, completely unscraped." He wiggles his eyebrows at her testy crystal stare.

What the hell's up with him? Five minutes ago he was a klutz now this... She removes her eyes from him with a huff."Whatever."

"Whatever." He mimics and mocks her tone. "You say that when you can't think of anything witty or insulting to say."

It becomes apparent to her how close he still is, but she maintains her cool. "I never run out of things to say, geek bait. I'm sparing you." He laughs; which only irritates her more. "Now quit your psycho babble and get lost."

The music changes to pop, uptempo song, and everyone starts to dance differently. And Arnold finally slings back in his chair. "Hmm," He strokes his imaginary beard. "I'll promise to uh, 'get lost' after you meet me out there."

"What?"

"You heard me. I want to see how much you've changed since the fourth grade." His darkened eyes slowly move up and down her. "That is if you aren't too intimidated by me."

Helga snorts, and her shoulders shake in a silent laugh. "Me? Intimidated by you. That's the funniest thing I've heard in ages." She searches his vastly amused face. "What kind of trickery are you conjuring up in that head of yours?"

"None whatsoever, just a little harmless fun." Even with his smugness, there is some sincerity in his voice. "If you're up for it."

Oh my, God, Arnold's asking me to dance! Internally she squeals like a small girl and contemplates within herself. Despite his front, his eyes still shined with a gentle, kindness like no other. Even if this is just a competitive thing, I should indulge...right?! Helga drums her fingers, and her eyes whirl around the room. "Alright, you're on." She stands up, and he does the same. "But only because I dig this track. Not because of your lame attempt at reverse psychology."

Arnold lifts his chin high and does a few nods and snickers while following her.

Helga finds a suitable spot, her mouth tenses, and her shoulders slug.

Her unplanned partner starts to move his feet, studying her. His eyes subtly flick over her. The dress she has on because of the clinginess might have looked unclassy on someone else. But on her lithe feature; equal parts muscle definition and soft curves, it looks perfectly tailored for her. And coupled with the way she carries herself, she looks completely elegant. His eyes lock with hers still with that slanty gaze. "You're not backing out, are you?"

Helga smacks her lips and resumes her excellent posture. "I don't back out on anything," Her eyes narrow sharply. "Ever." That grants her a one brow raise from him. But wordlessly he steps back and giving her a little more space once she began to groove herself.

As the music progressed, the teenagers relaxed, moving in sync. The rhythm consumes them, influencing the pace of their movements. Their breaths become short and ragged, but their energy never falters.

Every motion of her body Helga makes, challengingly, Arnold, to her surprise executes flawlessly. Except he did so with such a masculine fluency and individuality, making it difficult for Helga to mask her impressions.

Especially since he's also doing that hooded eye grin that drives her wild. Not to mention subtly rotating his hips so that they're on the verge of grazing hers.

Helga covers up a swoon by harshly biting her lip. Her eyes, though, are the only giveaway.

Suddenly, Arnold takes the lead and spins her, noting her elegance and ability. Getting a good grip at lower back, he dips her low. Almost to the ground. She squirms in his grasp, but her nearly half-lidded gaze stays focused on him.

Arnold doesn't realize he is still holding her in that pose longer than he should have until a new, slower melody comes on. Gently he brings her back upright and rubs the back of his neck.

He regards the people around for the first time and smiles shyly. The gutsier Arnold seems to have gone into hiding while his meeker side surfaces. "W-We could keep on," He stutters and swallows harshly. "If you like."

I have no idea when this will happen again. Helga, not trusting her voice, merely answers by decreasing the space between them.

And he reacts by finding her waist.

Unlike in the distant past, Arnold has the height advantage. Because of that, he's practically hovering over her, with his arms holding her tight, she could feel his tepid breaths. And the quick but unmistakable touches of his fingers against her back sends chills down her figure.

The warmth of her inhalations against his neck causes little beads of sweat to form on his skin. He hums softly in satisfaction when she rests her head in the crook of his neck. Everything feels comfortable, yet tense but at the same time, so right.

After a full verse of the song, Helga raises her chin, managing to wipe her expression free. She has always been superb at masking her feelings behind an icy or hard exterior.

But as he studies her, clues reside in the depths of her baby blues. There are various signals and emotions, and overwhelmingness sets in, and his eyes lower to her mouth. That only increases the rush of sensations at the mere thought of having those lips against his.

Their hips continue to sway in unison, and their half lidded gazes stay unwavering as their mouths inch closer and closer when-

SCREECH!

Everything cuts off, and the lights flick on. "That's all folks! Parties over!" the DJ barks into his mic yanking everyone abruptly back to reality. Successfully crushing the mood if the groans were any indication.

Helga blinks a couple of times, at the feeling of a lost of warmth at her core. Fully coming into awareness of what happened and what is going on; her eyes widen alarmingly, and she slinks away.

Everything seems to have put Arnold in a temporary vegetable state. But then his mouth hangs open, and his hand slides up to his chest; feeling his heart beating like a bass drum as he watches her retrieving figure. He finally closes his mouth and wets his dry lips. Goddamn it- so close...