It's been a while and I kind of forgot this existed. I wrote more.
Don't own what I don't own.
Pumpkin.
She didn't know why she went up to the deck, where all the kids were playing and being loud, where it was sunny and bright, where the only word she could use to describe the atmosphere of the place was 'obnoxious'. Helga had stumbled somewhere along her wandering war path, taking the ornate, plastic stairs up and into the light. The blonde did not want to be up here, because if this was the happiest place on the whole boat then he'd be here.
It wasn't that Arnold was inherently happy; he wasn't one of those kids who just couldn't ever wipe that stupid grin off their face. Rather Arnold attracted happiness, while he himself wasn't always happy he made sure everyone else around him was.
He was the cause of her problems, he was the reason she was at war with herself. It was all his fault
And she hated him for it.
Helga started to march towards the lawn chairs on the far side of the deck, using her icy glare to scare off the few who lingered nearby. The chairs were a shiny plastic, colorful and pristine as they reflected the sunlight with the same mirror-like quality as the hull. It was starting to disgust the blonde, how everything glittered and shone with an air of luxury under a clear blue sky with a happy, bright sun. This kind of fictional, 'perfect' existence was a mockery of real life, of reality, of Helga.
All the true hardship of life, the suffering that verified her existence, didn't exist in this cover page of a magazine set-up. It made the girl sick to her stomach that some people lived in this painless delusion.
Falling roughly onto the "high-class" deck chair, the blonde frowned. It was so bright up here, the glare of the sun made it almost impossible for her to see. She pulled out the sunglasses she'd had hanging from the neckline of her dress. She'd snatched these off of the counter not too long ago; judging by the size and style they probably belonged to Bob.
Settling the large, somewhat round black shades on her face, Helga tried to relax while tightly crossing her arms across her chest and stiffly leaning back into the plastic chair.
"Arnold, my man, so uh- I've been thinking, it's just… you know, recently Phoebe and I have- that is- I mean…" Gerald began, somewhat embarrassed as he tried to explain the situation to his shorter friend.
"Gerald," Arnold interrupted him with a placating smile, "I'll just be up on the deck for a while; I'll see you later." His monotonous voice was quite cheerful, soft and comforting; the blonde gave a gentle wave before heading to the deck.
When he reached the top of the stairs, the boy was delighted by the sight. It was happy and cheerful and just so very bright. His friends surrounded him as he joined them, their greetings crowding around him with heartfelt fervor that reminded him he wasn't forgotten.
"Arnold," called a sugar sweet voice, ruffled and feminine, "Oh Arnold, would you like to play volleyball with Rhonda and I?"
Turning to the source of the call, the blonde found the class darling, Lila Sawyer. Her delicate red locks were pulled into a single braid and draped over her shoulder, the vibrant color of her hair contrasting nicely with the seafoam green tank top she was wearing. Her cute freckled face was smiling at him and overall she was just lovely. In one word, she was dainty, from her long thin lashes to the way she stood. It was understandable that everyone loved her; it only made sense considering her countenance. Lila was a flawless duplication of the "perfect girl". It was impossible to say no.
Smiling warmly, Arnold nodded with a quick "sure". He watched Lila's delighted face at his response, his green eyes glancing past her and scanning the deck.
He'd known the moment she stepped on deck because he'd felt the shift in the air. There was a sudden tension; everyone had gotten a little quieter, just a little less rowdy, and just a pinch more respectful. It amazed him how just her presence got their classmates to behave; she was powerful, she was feared, and- more so than anyone would care to admit- she was respected. Helga was amazing, but he knew she could be even more so if he could just crack her shell.
"This is wonderful!" He heard Lila tweet behind him, "Now we just need one more to play." Arnold knew exactly who he wanted on his team.
It barely took a second to spot her. There was a void all around her, quieter, less populated; yet the rim around her space bubble was crowded. She simultaneously attracted and repelled her peers.
It was astounding.
Helga was astounding.
He definitely knew who he wanted on his team. In an instant he was standing in front of her, his unique shadow falling across the chair she was lounging in.
"Hey Helga!" A voice startled the blonde out of her mulling. She should've realized whom from the calm, level nature of the voice, but the girl was still thrown from initial shock. When it finally hit her who was standing in front of her, she was filled with rage.
It was the source of her problems, the love of her life, the bane of her existence. The idiot shouldn't have shown his face to her so soon, he'd end up with a black eye. Despite being infuriated, Helga held back her fist trying to ignore the boy rather than hurt him.
"We- I mean, Rhonda, Lila, and I are going to play a game of volleyball. Want to join?" Arnold asked, so carefree and defenseless, unaware of the danger he put himself in. Helga grit her teeth at the mention of Lila, Little Miss Perfect, the southern belle, beauty of PS 118, and complete bi- "You can be on my team," the boy offered, his voice almost sounding hopeful to Helga, though she was sure she was delusional.
His team? HIS team?! Why'd he want her? What about Lila, the girl he actually had a crush on? No wait, maybe he just wants to win- to impress the red head. Thats the one thing Helga had that Lila didn't, athletic skill.
He was trying to use her to get with another girl?! The blonde could've punched him in the face if it weren't for his next words.
"I really want to play with you. I can't remember the last time the two of us did something together. So come on, lets beat Rhonda and Lila together!" The football headed boy seemed so eager, so excited, so hopeful. How could she say no to his adorable face?
Like this:
"No," she brushed him off with feline nonchalance. Trying to lean farther back into her beach chair, mostly to get further away from her crush, she waited for him to leave. Arnold didn't budge, instead he plopped down on the deck chair next to her and stared down at his feet.
He wasn't going to leave, was he?
"You know I'm not leaving, right?" the blonde sang.
Helga's urge to punch him was rising again. It was only recently that he'd gotten so arrogant in his pursuit for her "hidden inner kindness". This newfound audacity frustrated, infuriated, and infatuated her to no end. He'd always been a bold kid but since the FTi incident he'd taken things to a whole new level.
Hunching her shoulders, the blonde scooted to the far edge of her chair, maximizing the distance between them. The girl needed time away from him right now, to think about her problem. And unfortunately it seemed that the only way to get him to back off would be to indulge him.
"If I play your stupid dame will you leave me alone?" the blonde asked, trying to sound angry rather than defeated
Arnold seemed delighted at her surrender, beaming brightly at her with a quick, affirmative nod as he snatched her wrist and dragged her towards the court on the far side of the deck. Helga forced herself to grimace as she was tugged along, using every fiber of her being to ignore the tingling sensation where her skin met his.
"Lila! Rhonda!" Arnold called out to the two girls standing at the edge of the court. "Helga said she'll play! She's going to be on my team!" The blonde girl tried to hide her eyes and shame beneath her bangs, but not before catching a glimpse of the crestfallen look on her red headed rival's face. It only now struck her that her crush could be using her to make the southern belle jealous, but if that was the plan, then why her? There were plenty of other, more appealing, girls to choose from. Why Helga?
He probably thought she had low standards or something.
With a smirk, Rhonda stepped forward, proudly brandishing her designer sports wear. "Oh Helga, you're going to play in that?" the elite's voice practically bitch slapped the blonde out of her shell. Glancing down at her usual outfit, the bully let out a dry chuckle.
"You do realize the clothes don't make the athlete? You'll lose just as badly to me wearing that as you would wearing a ball gown." Both competitive girls grinned defiantly at each other. She hadn't been planning to but Helda was starting to get invested.
"Helga, Helga, Helga," the princess sang condescendingly, "I'll have you know I won the youth volleyball championship at my family's country club." The socialite paused dramatically before continuing, knowing what her blonde classmate would say, "And no, I'm afraid bribery wouldn't work there as everyone is rich."
The other girl simple raised a side of her eyebrow and said, "Guess we'll just have to see how good you are."
And with that both teams took their respectable places on each side of the net.
Most couldn't tell due to her lanky frame, but Helga was quite the natural athlete. She excelled at all sports, especially competitive ones. If the girl had a different personality, a different early childhood, she might've become much more interested in sports, training hard and becoming the star player of the local team.
But Helga did not have a different personality nor a different early childhood; she only dabbled in the street baseball she and the neighborhood kids played, so it was easy to forget how good at sports the blonde was. It had absolutely blown him away to see how into it the girl got when the game began.
Helga didn't have Rhonda's skill, but the bully was far faster and stronger. Where Rhonda knew where to hit the ball to make it difficult to return it, Helga knew how to hit the ball so hard that it hurt to return it.
Arnold and Lila were mere bystanders watching a 1 v. 1 championship match. Helga would occasionally call for his stupid football head to get out of the clouds and serve the ball for her but Lila couldn't keep up. The delicate southern belle could only stumble back and forth on the court, frazzled and trying not to get in Rhonda's or the ball's way.
Arnold's occasional assistance gave his blonde teammate the extra edge, effectively cementing Helga's win as he bounced the ball up in the air so she could violently spike it into the middle of the enemy court. Lila actually had to jump out of the ball's path as it careened towards her, almost flattening her. The red head had just barely dodged the ball, quaking with fear as the loud, powerful smack of rubber on polished wood declared the blondes the winners.
Helga's triumphant smirk from the other side of the net brought overwhelming emotions unto Lila. She was happy for Helga and yet… angry at her. The blonde's victory was frustratingly convoluted and twisted in her mind. The red head liked her violent, brash friend, she genuinely did and yet seeing her on the other side of the net, so gleeful with Arnold… it made her want to pull out her hair and shriek.
Why wasn't it her?!
Swallowing her rage, Lila pushed herself off the ground and ducked under the net to congratulate the winners. "Good job," she called out, making a beeline straight for Helga, "You did so well Helga. It was absolutely amazing!"
Never one to reject praise of her more masculine traits, the blonde grinned smugly. "Yeah, well what can I say? I'm an amazing person," the taller girl boasted, laughing proudly with her hands on her hips. Lila smiled happily, laughing with Helga. When the blonde wasn't looking the red head turned to glare at Arnold.
This was Helga, Lila, and Arnold seven hours before it all began.