Footsteps running closer.

Panicked voice shouting apologies.

Face. Hurting.

For a second Helga almost thought she'd imagined the whole thing, and then all at once she snapped out of her dreamlike state and reality came rushing at her like, well, like a soccer ball rushing toward her face.

A familiar voice called from across the grassy expanse between the field and her blanket. Helga winced, opened her eyes and immediately squinted. She was wearing sunglasses, but now the blinding light streamed right through them and into her eyes, and the world was a blur of white and green.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry! We were just playing a game over there and—oh."

As her accidental assailant got closer, he realized exactly who he—or rather the ball—had just hit. "Uh, hey Helga." He gave a tentative wave.

Helga looked up, and sure enough she saw Arnold advancing toward her.

Arnold. Of course it was Arnold. Why would it be anyone else but Arnold? And why did he always have to show up right when she'd resolved yet again to be free of him once and for all? It seemed like no matter how hard she tried to just move on with her life like a normal, sane person, the universe kept smacking them right back together. Sometimes more painfully than others.

Helga rubbed her cheek and tried to prepare herself for whatever inevitable disaster was about to happen. She noticed that Arnold was certainly taking his sweet time getting over to her; once he spotted her, he'd stopped running full tilt instead and started to proceed with the determined caution of someone on one of those "world's most dangerous animals" shows where they catch and examine particularly aggressive crocodiles. Here we go, she thought.

"I think you dropped something, football head!" she shouted. When he was finally close enough, she hurled the ball back in his general direction with as much force as she could muster, given the fact that she was now on her second injury of the day.

She hoped he'd have to go chasing after the ball, preferably in the opposite direction, but of course he caught it and kept on walking toward her in those beat up old jeans that always hung just-so.

"Oh so now you can catch?" She tried to ignore the familiar feeling creeping up in her chest.

"What?"

"OH, SO NOW—Ow! It hurts to yell!"

Arnold snickered in spite of himself at her last comment as he approached the edge of her blanket. Helga glared up at him with as much indignation as she could manage.

"Oh yeah, this is hilarious, Arnoldo! It's a real hoot! You probably broke my nose and now I'm going to start senior year with a black eye. That'll look great on picture day! Ha-stinkin-ha."

She stood up and brushed herself off as best she could, and forced herself to look him in the eye. Her red heart-shaped sunglasses had huge cracks in both lenses, and her pink lip gloss had not only smeared all across her cheek but now also had little bits of grass and dirt stuck in it.

Arnold's face softened, and he set the ball on the ground.

"I'm really, really sorry Helga. Here, let me see."

He gingerly lifted up her sunglasses and moved closer, carefully examining her face for signs of injury. He leaned in so closely that she could smell his shampoo.

Time dragged by. Had it been seconds? Minutes? Days? She could feel his breath on her cheeks, and her stomach knotted up so tightly she was sure she was about to explode. Or implode. Or both at the same time, and if that didn't kill her then she would die from not breathing because, she realized, somewhere along the way she had stopped. Breathing. Sweat rolled down the backs of her legs and she suddenly realized just how hot it was outside.

He was going on about how Lila's friend Evie was really bad at soccer and had terrible aim, and before anyone could grab the ball, blah blah blah—the sounds of the park, Arnold, her resolve to not let this exact thing happen to her yet again—it all melted down into a haze as she stared out blankly over his shoulder and her eyes settled on a squirrel intently sniffing through the grass.

"Does this hurt?" Arnold grazed his fingertips lightly over the top of her left cheekbone, where she'd taken the brunt of the impact. Electricity shot through her body. She tried to say something coherent, but all she managed was—

"Squirrel."

The rational part of her brain screamed at her to snap out of it.

The squirrel stood up at that exact moment and looked directly at her. Are you mocking me, you furry little pest? You are, aren't you? Yeah, well you try living like this and see how well you do. Oh criminy, I'm talking to a squirrel! In my mind! Get a hold of yourself Helga!

"Helga? Helga! Are you okay?" Arnold looked concerned. Uh oh, how long had he been trying to get her attention? She blinked and shook her head.

"Uh, nothing? I mean what? I mean, I'm fine!" God it was like standing this close to him was scrambling all her brainwaves and turning her into a babbling idiot. "I'm just seeing things! Whooo! I must be woozy from this heat and the sun and, you know, being beaned in the face." Great. Nice recovery, you moron.

Arnold ignored her outburst and just kept examining her.

"You're not bleeding, but it's really red." He sounded like he felt terrible about the whole thing. Good. "I think it's going to be okay."

He'd taken his hand away from her face now and was standing there, clearly expecting some kind of response. She stood there not saying anything for what felt like hours but was in reality about three seconds, and then out of sheer instinct she snatched her sunglasses back from him and heard herself saying words.

"Thanks for your diagnosis doctor. I'm sure I'll be fine. And if I'm not, well, I'll just have the hospital bill you for my extensive reconstructive surgery. Maybe I'll even throw in a new nose on your dime. Anyway, if you're done trying to kill me, I need to get back to reading about 'the worst of times.'"

"And the best of times," Arnold said with a smile.

"Yeah," she drawled flatly as she wiped the dirt and lip gloss from her face with the back of her recently-sliced hand, 'the best of times.'"

Helga retrieved her now dirt-smudged copy of "A Tale of Two Cities" from the ground and plopped back down onto her blanket. She dusted the book off and looked down at a random page, if only to have somewhere to focus her eyes besides Arnold. He just kept standing there.

"So, um, do you think you're okay?" He shifted nervously. "How do you feel?"

"Oh I don't know, significantly more like I've just been hit in the face by a large flying object than I did two minutes ago?" Then she added as sincerely as she could manage, "I'll be fine. Nothing a block of ice and a pound of concealer won't cure." It's not that she wanted to be nasty to him—in fact she hated it—but she felt like her acerbic edge was the only thing that kept her from throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him against her will at any given moment.

"I really am sorry Helga. Why don't I get you some ice from the Jolly Olly man?"

Ugh, stupid stupid stupid! Why did I have to mention ice!

His offer wasn't a request and she knew it, but she hoped if she protested, by some miracle he'd forget his do-goody nature and just go away. Maybe she could still bounce back from this unfortunate little encounter and wipe all thoughts of him from her memory again before school started. She could do a few of those stupid yoga chants or whatever the heck it was Miriam was always yammering on about.

"Arnold it's fine I—"

"I insist."

Of course he insists.

"And I'm sorry about those." He motioned to her broken glasses, which were now sitting on the ground next to her. So much for getting him to go away.

"These things? They're just some stupid sunglasses I found in Olga's junk drawer. I left mine on the bus last week. Again. And I didn't want to burn my retinas out lying here in the hot sun so I grabbed these old things."

"Well I think they look nice. Uh, looked nice. They remind me of Lolita."

"What?" Helga felt her cheeks heat up.

"You know, that girl from the movie who—"

"I know who Lolita is, Arnold. That's just . . . weird." Her stomach knotted up again and her mind raced with unwelcome thoughts. She felt like she was teetering on the edge of either hurling her book at his head or pulling him down into the grass with her.

Arnold ran a hand through his hair and looked at the ground.

"I didn't mean it like that Helga."

"You didn't mean I look like teenage man-bait? Then what did you mean, football head?" She suddenly felt extremely conscious of the way Olga's lace dress gapped in front on her, because she didn't have the same annoyingly perfect hourglass shape her sister did.

"Never mind. I'll go get your ice."

Helga knew the change in his tone all too well. At least it meant he was finally leaving.

"No rush. I'll just be sitting here reading and developing a giant bruise on my face!"

Arnold sighed and looked at her for a moment before turning to wander off toward the Jolly Olly truck. This always seemed to be the way conversations between the two of them went.

She watched him go for a few seconds and then laid back down with her book. She wanted to tell him again to forget about the ice but she knew he wouldn't, no matter how ornery she tried to seem, so she just gave in.

Just as he was almost out of earshot, she couldn't help but call out to him again.

"By the way, it was a book first!"

"What?" Arnold stopped and turned back toward her, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Lolita! It was a book!"

Arnold turned back around and kept walking until she couldn't see him any more.

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So I'm thinking I might make the chapters longer going forward … I feel like 1 & 2 could have been put together. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed the story so far! I like hearing from people, so leave a review or drop me a note if you feel so inclined (even if you hate the story...haha). Even though it took me a long time to put these chapters together, I feel like I'm still finding the tone & voice of the story—does that ever happen to anyone else? You know exactly how you want it to come across, but it takes a while to get the words on the page to match up with what's in your head?

Anyway, I'm probably going to post another more light-hearted story soon, so keep an eye out for that (I'll still be updating this one regularly).

Thanks for reading!

Xox- FL