Everyone changes with time. A day, a week, a month, a year... they all count. So how much can a group of rag tag 4th graders from P.S. 118 change with junior high, high school, and a whole bunch of history between those seven years? A whole lot.
Years Later
Are You Ready?
It was a Spartan football tradition for one of the captains to give a speech before each game. Some ventured a guess that it began with Bob Erickson, the star quarter back from the 1988-1989 team, who started the tradition on September 23rd, 1968— the opening game that year, before the team went out and literally pulverized the 1948-1949 Wayside Falcons… making Wayside Hillwood's permanent sports rival. It was a tradition that had roots dating back to who knows when, just like it was a tradition for the whole team to go out running onto the field after said speech with their fans calling out their screaming so loud that they drowned out the boos of the opposing side.
This time, on Friday the 24th of September, it was Wolfgang's turn.
"Are you punks ready to beat the shit out of Cornwell?" He yelled. Arnold sat on the bench furthest from the dry-erase board and where Wolfgang was standing. He could hear the shouts from all of his teammates surrounding him, but instead of actually yelling back like the rest of the locker filled with so people, many of which who had never even been on the field, the blonde haired male simply nodded but stayed quiet, and was quickly jabbed in his ribs by Sid from the right and Gerald from his left. He gave them both dirty looks; Gerald returned it with equal force, while Sid smiled.
Arnold noticed that Wolfgang was cursing during his speech, again. Normally, students were not allowed to curse on Crinshaw school grounds. If they did, they usually winded up having to serve two days of detention. Arnold watched as Coach Grant said nothing to Wolfgang about his language, but whispered something in the defense coach's, Norman 'Dr. F' Faulknor, ear.
To Hillwood and the area that surrounded the town, the Spartan football players where gods, or demons depending on who you asked, but when they where compared to Coach Grant they were only demi-gods, or demi-demons. Coach Grant was a god above the gods, he was Zeus and they were Apollo, some even thought he was a gift from the angels. After all, when Mr. Grant came to Hillwood at the tender age of twenty-four the Spartans had the worst record in the Tri-State area, when he was finished training them that year, the Spartans came out on top, and always came out on top of the game ever since. Others, the nay-sayers, believed that Mr. Eli M. Grant had made a deal with the devil right before the Spartans came out on the field on their opening game that year and led the greatest upset known in high school football in the Tri-State area. At any rate, Grant had been leading the Spartans to victory for decades and with a few losses staining his nearly perfect record. Those losses that were sprinkled throughout 'Grantonian' Spartan football history were probably why he worked all the players like dogs, his record wasn't perfect.
"I said, are you ready?" The shouts inside of the room got louder and Arnold could hear the familiar sound of fist colliding with lockers. "Then let's get out there and serve their asses to them!"
Wolfgang led the charge as the Spartan players rushed out of the locker room en masse. As they passed through the red painted double doorway, they all made sure that they punched the lucky punching bag with 'Wayside' written on it in sloppy letters that resembled a third graders handiwork. The players charged onto the football field with their coaches, managers, assistant coaches, and countless other staff members jogging behind them.
Sid's eyes grazed over the crowd before he spotted the familiar pink streaked hair of Helga. Next Helga was Hilda, next to Hilda was Phoebe, next to Phoebe was Sheena, and all three of his former favorite female companions were pointing at the short haired brunette, smiling deviously, and giving him the thumbs up sign. Twin pink dots appeared on his cheeks as he turned away and walked over to the team's bench.
Gerald and Arnold gave their traditional wave to the crowds and the noise level in Grant Field doubled.
Arnold's blue eyes immediately found the customary banner made by his grandmother; it really wasn't a hard task considering how unique the banner was. 'Run With the Wild Ones Young Kimba! Throw Like the Wind!' was painted in the Spartan colors of black and red on a white banner. Next to his grandmother was his grandfather, burying his head in his hand, visibly annoyed by the banner she carried with her to every game since he was in 7th grade. Next to his grandfather were Oskar and Suzie Kokoshka, former residents from his grandparent boarding house, they had moved out three years ago when he was in eight grade. Around the same time where his mother and father came home, it had bee miraculous and Arnold finally was able to have a full family once again. Miles and Stella Linshaw stood on the other side of his grandparents, waving proudly to their son. Occasionally one or more of the borders, both those that still lived at the house or had moved out, would come to see the game and cheer Arnold and the Spartans on. At the States Championship, all of the borders came to watch Crinshaw take down Greensboro.
"Hey." Came a soft voice from behind him, the person wrapped their arms around his waist, and Arnold did not even need to bother to guess who it was.
He turned around and kissed Lila squarely on her mouth. "Hey there yourself, beautiful."
Lila was dressed in the new cheerleading outfits. The outfit consisted of a black skirt with red pleats and a black turtleneck halter top that said "Spartans" in red and was outlined in white with a triangle keyhole cut out ("It's there for the necessary cleavage, Pheebs."). Mysteriously the cost of the new outfits was coincidentally the same amount of money that the basketball team was supposed to be provided with to get their new uniforms.
"That was your good luck kiss, do good on the field, and we'll see what prize you'll get later." Lila tweaked Arnold's hair before she winked and swaggered away from him, heading towards where the rest of the cheerleaders waited patiently. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Kamelia and Rhonda making similar promises to their boyfriends.
If that isn't incentive enough, I don't know what is.
Sid smiled at his massive amounts of fan clubs and Arnold could swear he saw some girls faint. He could also see Wolfgang trying to get Helga Pataki's attention, who stood in the crowd giving his teammate the middle finger, and for some strange reason Wolfgang smiled and blew her a kiss. Helga turned from absolute revulsion to horror to queasiness; her face looked so sickly that Arnold swore she was getting ready to puke on the man standing in front of her.
"Ready for this, Arnold?" Gerald asked, clapping his best friend on the back.
"Hell yea. I do plan on having planning fun later tonight, so do me the favor and make sure you catch the ball and score a lot of touch downs."
Gerald smirked. "Right, we both know your mind is not thinking about football touchdowns."
"No it isn't. Problem?"
"Nope, I'm in the same state you're in."
The two friends laughed before Couch Grant ordered them onto the field to start the game.
The Cornwell Bangles were getting beat into the ground, without mercy. It was only halftime and the score was 24 to 3, Spartans. Harold had sacked their quarterback two times and Wolfgang had taken down one of their best receivers, who left the field hobbling on his one good leg leaning on one of Cornwell's managers for support. Overall it seemed like the Spartan's were having a great opening game and the Hillwood population was lapping up the show with excitement and adoration for their home team, at least most of the crowd was.
"I love football, but this isn't a fair game. Why did I let you bring me out here again, Phoebe?" Helga whined for the umpteenth time that night.
"Remember, to take Hilda out somewhere and to support our friend."
"Oh yea." Helga smiled. "And to see him blush like a junior high school girl."
Phoebe punched Helga in the arm, but nonetheless returned the smile. "That's not very nice."
"What can I say, I'm not a very nice person. But I didn't see you complaining when you saw Sid blushing."
Sheena Smithe's ears immediately perked up at the mention of the name 'Sid'. "Did you just say something about Sid and blushing?"
Sheena's light brown hair was clipped back by two familiar pink barrettes, but now the girl's hair curled just below her ears. At one point during their sophomore year, Sheena's hair was just as long as Phoebe's, but being the humanitarian she was, she cut it all off for a charity group. When she wasn't ogling at Sid on the field she was advising Phoebe to do the same.
Helga shot Phoebe a sneaky smile and opened her mouth to reply, but soon found it being covered by her best friend's hand. "Blushing? I didn't see any blushing. I'm sure Helga," Phoebe glared at Helga at that point in order to keep the pink, blonde haired girl in check. "Was just imagining things."
Phoebe removed her hand from Helga's mouth not before she shot Helga another warning look. "Yea, Phoebe's right, I have a very active and vivid imagination. Plus I'm looking to see if I spot any of my friends from Cornwall, who knows what I really saw. But now I'm rambling, aren't I?" Helga did not wait for anyone's response, instead she turned to her sister and poked her.
Hilda looked up at Helga with one blonde eyebrow cocked over her clear blue eyes. "Yes?"
"You want something from the snack bar?"
Immediately the younger girl's eyes lit up in interest. "Do they have chocolate?"
"Yup."
Hilda said nothing, instead she grabbed Helga's hand with her smaller one and began dragging her older sister out of the stands towards the snack bar with no further questions asked.
"How is that humanly possible?" Sheena asked.
"You have much to learn, young one." Phoebe said wisely– or as Sid so eloquently put it– like a crack head with a withdrawal symptom. "But since I'm in a particularly good mood, I'll let you in on a secret. You see, the two young Pataki sisters only have one weakness and one weakness alone. And it goes by the name of chocolate– oh and Pink Chocolate."
"Pink Chocolate?
Phoebe nodded her head vigorously. "Yea I guess I'll have to get Helga to show it to you one of these day."
"Oh."
Phoebe turned her attention back onto the field where the cheerleaders and marching band began to do perform their routine. Phoebe always enjoyed the halftime show; the cheerleading routines were really good.
I guess that's what Rhonda, Kamelia, and Lila concentrate their one existing brain on doing...Hmmm... well at least it's not half bad to watch, but Wayside performance are much better.
Crinshaw crushed Cornwell with a final score of 41 to 27. Of course there was some celebrating on the field, which was carried on into the locker room, but not for long. The football players wanted to hurry and get to the real after party celebration.
It was customary that Rhonda, Lila, or Kaylia and Kamelia throw a party at their large houses after a Spartan victory. This time, it was Lila's turn, and Lila's parties tended to be on the overly wild side. The music was always loud, there were always extra rooms for couples to– as Sid would put it– play, and Lila was always able to get her hands on alcohol or whatever the guest wanted.
Arnold entered the Sawyer's large house with an arm wrapped around his girlfriend's waist .
"Good job out there tonight, Arnold." Mr. Sawyer said hitting Arnold on his back.
"Thank you, Mr. Sawyer."
"How many times have I told you to call me Tom, Arnold." He playfully tapped his daughter's chin and Lila gave her father a fake laugh, Arnold was expert on Lila's I'm-An-Angel Laugh, but figured it was better not to comment. "Now you guys have fun. I'm going out for a while so don't expect me back until late, sweet pea."
There was also another reason why Lila's parties were always wild. Her father always left the house during his daughter's party time and after year full of Lila's parties, Arnold was pretty sure that Mr. Sawyer left on purpose. After all, how many times can you come home to a basement full of empty beer bottles, rumpled up beds, and bras hanging off ceiling fans, and not figure something went on the night before. Mr. Sawyer probably knew Arnold and Lila did more than just make out during the parties. But Arnold was also pretty sure, Mr. Sawyer didn't care. Mr. Sawyer was a Crinshaw Spartans fan and to him Arnold was a god among men, so who was he to say that his daughter couldn't do what she wanted to do with a god?
Well, he could, but he didn't. After all, no one wanted to invoke the wrath of a god, right?
"Okay daddy."
Mr. Sawyer left through the front door and Lila ordered for Vincent, one of the Spartans' burliest players to act as a bouncer, and of course the guy did. Lila was dating Arnold and no one messed with Crinshaw's super couple.
Arnold and Lila proceeded to the basement that was filled with Crinshaw's absolute elite. Loud music was blasting from four large stereos sitting in each corner of the rectangular room, some couples were making out on the sofas, some couples looked like they were on their way to doing more than making out, some people were dancing, some people who were already drunk, and some people were on their way to getting drunk.
As Arnold and Lila walked further and further into the room, Arnold saw Kamelia and Gerald making out– not as if he was surprised since the couple never seemed to be able to take their arms off each other, if they could help it– he also saw some brunette sitting on Sid's lap flirting with him, Sid, being the natural flirt that he was, was flirting back with her, but Arnold could see the highlighted disinterest in his friend's eyes.
Obviously, the girl didn't.
Wolfgang was talking to some blonde who was batting her eyes profusely and Harold and Rhonda were conveniently missing from the party.
Arnold knew exactly where Lila was leading him. She opened a door with a smile on her face that Arnold shared. As soon as Arnold entered the room and closed it behind him, Lila pounced on him. Her lips glued onto his with her legs wrapped around his waist. Arnold's smile widened against Lila's lips, after all, he did play good tonight.
(Y/L)
I'm sure you've all figure out by now that I do not own Hey Arnold! Due to the obvious non-corruption of the show. But then again, there are some scenes that Arnold doesn't have any pants on... Thank Demile, blazing wickedness, Thea, Sakuyaku-chan, Starry-Eyez888, XxXCocoPuffXxX, and BellaMay76 the kind reviews.
PS:
Thea, welp.. I was going to leave it as a surprise but, the story is– END TRANSMISSION.
I probably should just leave this PS like this, but since I'm feeling like a nice person, I'll say the story will include a Helga and Gerald romance... alright, fine, I'll tell the truth. It will include a Helga and Arnold relationship, of what type, I don't know… all jokes aside.
BellaMay76, Helga does respond. When she is feeling especially cheeky, but she finds it more fun to torture Sid and make him blush.
Click the shiny review button... you know you wanna... but you also want a cool drink of Fanta (which I also don't own)... Decisions, decisions.
S.L. Cipher (Who accepts all criticisms, reviews, praises, and flames with a smile)
Published: If I were you, I'd ask Bob,... which is actually my beanie pillow, who's named after Bob Marley not Bob Pataki, he might know...
Edited: 7 05
Re-edited: 12 05