Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold.
A/N: It has come to my attention, as a reviewer has recently informed me, that swearing and/or cursing may offend some of you. If you belong to this group of people, then I don't think you'd fancy this fic… But if you aren't, then by all means…
Read on… Thank you.
"Well, I think it's adorable." I cringed as a very irritating voice entered my ears.
I didn't respond. I knew by now that there would be no point in making her shut up. It's been a long week and I have yet to see the end of it.
Fortunately, in a few minutes I'd be rid of her and her annoying voice. Unfortunately, I'd be entering a different kind of hell.
This week had been an utter disaster. I've been shipped to an all boy's boarding school, placed in a care of an absolutely stupid dizzy secretary, Holly Fowler, said secretary gave me a positively revolting haircut and not to mention I am now supposed to appear to be a male student for a whole bloody year.
Gah! It took everything I had not to strangle Fowler.
"Cheer up, Helga! You're going to have a great time. Just think… there'll be a lot of boys in your school." said Fowler suggestively raising her eyebrows for effect.
The only effect it gave me was the urge to gag. I refused to acknowledge her and that aggravating voice of hers.
"Come on Helga! Bob said I had to make you look like a guy so that you'd be accepted in the wonderful school I've applied you in." she said enthusiastically.
I rolled my eyes not caring if she saw it. Everything was her bleeding fault anyway. If she wasn't such and idiot, I wouldn't be in this disastrous dilemma. I'm not being mean or spiteful when I say that she is the most moronic person I have ever met.
Honestly, who in their right mind would apply a girl into an all boys boarding school. And for that matter what kind of father would agree to send his daughter to Cambridge Hall. I just don't get it.
"Helga," Fowler started droning on "I really think that…"
I blocked everything else that came out of her mouth. It was all the same anyway. Stupid, boring and pointless. She's been yapping on and about since Bob assigned her to "help" me prepare for my trip.
In all actuality, she did nothing but grate my nerves. Help isn't a word I would describe her. Far from it. I sighed or tried to when I suddenly went to a coughing fit.
An ugly face came into view. "Are you all right?"
I did nothing but scowl at her. Damn it! I couldn't even breathe properly. Even that was her fault!
Stupid chest binding thing!
I fiddled with the straps on my chest trying to make them looser or at least a notch below asphyxiating.
"Do you need some water?" asked Fowler with fake concern.
The fact that she was the one who was the cause of why I needed a chest bind in the first place did nothing but worsen my mood.
"What I need is for you to take this chest bind off." I snapped clearly irritated.
She looked at me with a reproaching expression. "You know that it has to be done. Or else someone might discover the fact that you're not really a guy but a girl. And then there would be a lot of… inconveniences, as Bob put it."
"Well, if you think that finding my suffocated corpse lying somewhere is inconvenient, then you'd better do something about this." I threatened with barely hidden anger.
"Don't be such a drama queen. You can breathe fine. Besides, if I take that off you'd be a guy with breasts. And what kind of guy has breasts?" asked Fowler.
"Alive." I replied deadpanned.
"Let me make it clear to you. You need to wear it." said Fowler enunciating every word as if she was talking to a five year old.
"Let me make it clear to you. I don't need it." I retorted stubbornly. "At the very least, loosen this bloody thing so I can breathe."
"It's loose enough. If I loosen it anymore your breasts are going to show." said Fowler.
"I don't have oversized breasts that can't be hidden by baggy clothes, which may I point out, that I'm already wearing." I said giving her my best do-what-I-say-or-else glare.
"Oh, fine." said Fowler adjusting the straps.
Ahh, finally, I can breathe again. AIR! You have got to love them.
I sighed and noted with mirth that I did it without getting into a violent coughing fit. I looked out the window to note how long before I'd get rid of her.
"You should be grateful I didn't shave you bald." muttered Fowler impishly.
That did it. I couldn't stand this any longer. I've been through hell and back and she just couldn't take a hint.
"It would have been better than being submitted to this monstrosity!" I snapped glaring at her for all I'm worth.
Regrettably, a lock of stray hair covered an eye that reminded me of the horribly boyish haircut that I have been submitted to. I'm not the sort of person who's obsessed with looks or hair for that matter. I'm also not a girly girl by all means.
"Well, excuse me for trying to help!" she said back.
I must admit that the haircut isn't all that bad, though it'll be a snowball's chance in hell before I admit that to her. However, that's not the point. The point is that everything is Fowler's fault.
"You? Help? That's rich." I said hotly. "You're the reason I'm in this mess in the first place."
And I plan on making her pay.
"Don't you dare blame me just because your father never bothered with you. Don't be such a spoiled brat. Deal with it or I may just follow your advice and shave you bald." she replied with much force than necessary.
"I'd like to see you try." I retorted coldly.
She scowled making her look more like the pug-faced hag that she is. "Don't tempt me, girl. You wouldn't want to be embarrassed in the wedding, do you? Appearing there bald and looking very silly."
I stared at her incredulously. I knew she was stupid but I didn't think she was that stupid. I mean did she really believe that my father would marry her? That's a laugh.
"What nonsense are you spouting about?" I asked with barely contained giggles.
"What I mean is tha-" she was cut off when the car stopped and the door was opened.
"We have arrived, Ms. Fowler." said the driver waiting for her to step out.
Once she did, he went to my side and opened it expectantly. I got out and for the first time got a look at where I would be staying for the year. It was bigger than I expected, but then again, it's not like I expected much.
"Welcome to Cambridge Hall."greeted a man as he approached us. He looked like he was in his late 50's with the white hair and wrinkles to match. "My name is Professor Montgomery headmaster of this school."
He and Fowler shook hands. They exchanged pleasantries or he exchanged pleasantries while Fowler just flirted with him. Ugh. That gave me the shudders.
They were talking about how this school takes care of its students… blah, blah, blah… when I interrupted with a I'm-still-here-or-did-you-forget-can-you-wrap-it-up-for-god's-sakes cough.
"Oh, yes." he said acting as if I had just magically appeared out of thin air. "I would assume that this is your son?" he asked gesturing at me.
It took everything I had not to laugh at the confused expression on her face. I'm not sure if she was confused by the part that I was referred to as a guy or that she looked like a mother or that anyone could possibly think we're related.
Knowing her, it would probably all three of it combined.
When she finally snapped out of her stupor, she replied quickly "No, she- I meant he- isn't my son… Well, I guess yes, she – he – sort of is a son- though not my son just a son… but of course still not my son -because you see her- his - father… well, we… her- his - father and I… sort o-"
I decided to save her, and I, from utter humiliation by injecting in her inane rambling.
"What she means to say, Professor, is that no, she isn't my mother but my father appointed her as my guardian to make sure I arrived safely here and she has been taking care of me for the longest time." I lied easily.
"And I guess you could also say that we're rather close since she does treat me as her son and I treat her as the mother I never really got to know." I added smoothly to stop further questions.
I knew that implying that my mother was dead would stop this idle chat. It didn't matter that she wasn't really dead or that it was all a load of crap. All I was thinking of was that the sooner I get this done the sooner I would be as far away from Holly Fowler as possible.
Professor Montgomery looked a bit taken a back and replied automatically, "I'm sorry."
The awkward silence that followed confirmed that I did a great job.
"It's okay." I said quietly, still in my role of the devastated girl… er… guy… at having painful memories brought back, "If you don't mind me saying, I'm a bit tired from the trip so..."
"Ah, yes, yes, of course. It was nice to meet you Ms. Fowler and I assure you that we would take great care of Mr.-" before he could ask I interjected, "Pataki." he continued "Yes, Mr. Pataki."
He shook her hand and she finally left.
"Mr. Pataki, this way please. I'd just give you your schedule and let you be on your way." said Professor Montgomery gesturing towards the door.
He gave me my schedule and his secretary gave me the directions to my room.
It took a couple of minutes before I finally arrived in my room. I noticed that there were two beds and faintly remembered Montgomery mentioning something about a roommate. I paid no mind to it and dumped my bags on the floor next to the bed.
"Ah, thank God that's done!" I said loudly as I settled on the bed.
"Personally, I don't believe in God." said a masculine voice that came out of nowhere.
It took me a few seconds to convince myself that, no, I wasn't hearing voices and that I am completely sane. Plus, that figure hovering over the door looks too realistic to be just something from my imagination.
Needless to say, I shot out of the bed saying the most intelligent thing I could come up with given the circumstances…
"The hell!"
A/N: To all those that bothered to review… I am eternally grateful.
To all those that read this… I appreciate it.
To all those that want this fic updated and continued… Let me know and review.
Lots of hugs and kisses… Cheerio!