Hey Y'all!
So, I just want to clarify, if any of you are confused. I actually happen to NOT own Hey Arnold. Props to you, Mr. Bartlett. Oh, and The Great Gatsby? Also, not mine. F. Scott Fitzgerald's ghost gave me permission to use the story though, I swear.
The storm raged against the walls of the glamorous white mansion. The bay's sandy shores had shrunk beneath the swelling waters, and the green light adjacent to the house, on the other shore, had vanished in the rain.
The gleaming mahogany front doors were open, bleeding yellow electric light on the sodden front lawn, revealing a beautiful young woman, dark haired and glamorous, in the arms of a generically handsome man. In front of them, a pathetic lump of a man was on his knees in the grass, sobbing, begging. His finely tailored suit was soaked and covered in mud. And his body trembled; not from the cold, but from desperation. His large brown eyes were wide and pleading. Oddly enough, he bore a striking likeness to Harold Burman.
"Daisy! Daisy, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have had a mistress! I should have loved you and given you all the respect you deserve! PLEASE take me back! PLEASE!" he broke in to fresh tears.
The beautiful women on the steps folded her arms in disgust. "Tom Buchanan, you were never good enough for me. Jay here loves me. He loves me so much that he built his entire life around me to make me happy. It's over between us. Now shoo, leave this yard and never come back. You're an eyesore."
Jay Gatsby pulled his arm around his lover, and the two glared down at the man before them, who flopped on his side, left cheek covered in mud, wallowing in his despair.
"PLEEAAASEEEE…I'll do anything…." He sobbed and choked…"Anything…"
The women turned up her nose, unmoved. "Come, Jay. Let's go back inside."
The man on the ground jumped to his feet. Jay promptly kicked him back down, and ushered Daisy back inside, closing the gleaming doors behind them. Tom ran to the door, pounding, crying;
"Rhonda? RHONDA!"
Rhonda Wellington Lloyd snapped out of her particularly satisfying daydream and back into reality, also known as Junior English. Her teacher, Mr. Robbins, had his hands on the front corners of her desk, and was leaning to reach her eye level, trying to get her attention.
"RHONDA!"
"Yes?! Sorry, what was the question?" She asked.
The thirty-something teacher narrowed his eyes. His dislike for Rhonda was evident. Stuffily, he began to preach at her.
"I ASKED you for your thoughts on Sheena's last comment. If you had been paying attention to the class discussion, you would know what that question was, but seeing as you seem to be in the mindset that you are too good for this class, it appears I will have to repeat it for you: 'Is either Tom or Gatsby deserving of Daisy's love? Is she deserving of either of theirs?' He looked down at Rhonda distastefully. "But I'll venture a guess you didn't even read it, did you? Probably had another debutante ball like last week, didn't you?"
Rhonda glared back more forcefully. "It just so happens that I DID read it, Mister Robbins." She shot the 'mister' at him like an insult." My answer to Sheena's question is that Gatsby DOES deserve Daisy's love. At this point in the book I think Daisy, in turn, deserves Gatsby's love, and that Tom does NOT deserve any love of any kind."
Robbins raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty harsh. Why so passionate in your dislike for a fictional character?"
Rhonda's voice became venomous. "Because Tom Buchanan is a cheater. A filthy, worthless cheater and deserves to be loveless for the rest of his life….despite the fact that he is a fictional character. There is no kind of man who is more cowardly and despicable than a cheater." Several students snickered. Harold Burman, several rows up, had gone beet red and slid down a bit in his seat.
Robbins turned and strode back to the front of the class. "Interesting opinion, Miss Lloyd." He said loftily.
Turning back towards her when he reached the front board, he added waspishly "But I'll ask you to kindly separate your personal life from my class." He grinned cruelly. "An idiot could have pieced your excessive hostility towards your recent boyfriend, Harold, and that little rant together."
Rhonda, offended, was on her feet. "I'll guess that explains how it didn't get past YOU, sir." She spit the word 'sir' from her mouth like a rotten berry. She grabbed her school bags, and stormed up the aisle.
"Sit back down, Princess, or it's detention."
She whipped back around and stared at her teacher with a look that could have melted diamonds.
"It's worth it." She left the classroom.
Helga Pataki, sitting a few seats from the door, raised her hand.
"Robbins, let me handle this. I'll get her back, just give me a sec." Helga slid her chair back with a loud screeeech and walked out of the room. As the door closed, she heard a "Now you wait just a minute, Miss Pa-". She grinned as she imagined the finger wagging that surely accompanied his feeble attempt at maintaining authority.
Ahead of Helga, a furious Rhonda wrenched open her locker and began taking things out.
"OI! Hang on a sec there, Princess." Helga jogged up to the locker.
"Not a good time, Helga. Not kidding. I'm out of here. Tell Robbins to fuck himself."
"Woah, there, Rhonda! That's not a very lady-like thing to say." Helga said sarcastically. She reached up and put an arm around Rhonda's shoulder. More seriously, she continued. "Look, Robbins is a douche. You know that. I know that. You can't let him get you worked up like this. He's just not worth the energy. Just do your work and keep your head down. Be non-confrontational. If not for me, for the sake of passing the eleventh grade."
Rhonda scoffed. "You are the biggest hypocrite I have ever met, Helga." She rolled her eyes, closed her locker, and sighed. "His attack was completely uncalled for. So what if I'm passionate about The Great Gatsby? So WHAT if I can relate to Daisy being totally cheated on?"
Helga's eyes narrowed. "Harold's a complete ass. He's sorry for what he did, but…"Helga's face darkened. "Not sorry enough. Trust me Rhonda. This isn't over."
Rhonda smiled at Helga. It was sort of strange, how things worked out with Helga. Though not best friends, they had a bond. They had each other's backs and helped the other when they could. It wasn't like they spent the night at the other's place on weekends, but hung out after school sometimes. The two weren't as opposite as one might think at first glance. Both had strong, fiery personalities. They clicked.
"Thanks, Pataki. So why'd you come out here, anyways?"
"To bring you back to class. Come on. You're stronger than Robbins and you'll prove it by going back to class, straight-backed and proud. Okay?" Helga began to lead Rhonda by the shoulders towards the classroom, but Rhonda dug her heels in, making it difficult to push her any farther.
"No way, Helga. Being 'stronger' is NOT enough to motiva-"
Rhonda stopped talking suddenly. Passing Helga and Rhonda in the hallway was a boy Rhonda had never seen in this school. He walked with a slight swagger and confidence. His dark, unkempt black hair stuck fell on his head in messy brilliance. His clothes were totally bad-boy chic and his over-all ruggedness supported that look. His deep..and (Oh, what's the word she was looking for? Ah yes…) smoldering eyes flitted over the girls, both of whom looked back, dumbfounded. He strode past them and down the hall. Reaching their classroom, he turned and marched in.
In Rhonda's ear, Helga whispered "Is THAT enough motivation for you?"
Rhonda stared at the place into which the boy disappeared for second longer. She then grabbed Helga's hand and rushed back to the class door. Pausing, she turned to Helga, suddenly businesslike.
"Is there anything in my teeth, on my face, in my hair, or anywhere else that will be distracting if I talk to him?". She bared her teeth then turned her head left and right.
Helga sighed. "No, Rhonda. You're as flawless as ever." She said, her voice filled with agitation.
"Excellent." Rhonda rubbed her hands together. She pulled her shoulders back, shook her hair behind her shoulders confidently, and grinned at Helga. "Let's meet the new kid."
Probably will update again tonight, just felt like this was a good stopping point. Read on, good readers!