Arnold, Gerald, Stinky, and Harold were waiting outside of their classroom for the teacher to unlock the door. To pass the time, Sid told them a story Arnold found highly improbable.

"And then, after he climbed the street light, he dumped out everything in the backpack." Sid claimed.

"No…" Stinky gasped. Harold was chortling loudly.

"Yep. All 50 of them. Right on the shuffleboard team."

Gerald shook his head. "They were asking for it, though."

"I dunno. There are clearly two sides to this story." said Arnold.

Gerald nudged Sid. "Pretty good tale. But you guys got nothing on what Fuzzy Slippers did last Memorial Day Weekend."

Gerald's words became unintelligible sounds as Arnold's attention drifted from him to the bustle of the hallway. He had heard this story several times already, and though it was amusing, it had lost its novelty to him. He spaced out for a moment, his eyes grazing over the shapes and colors of the moving people until they settled on the pink ballcap of an individual who was exiting the library along with an assortment of other kids.

Arnold waved at the group. "Be right back."

He could feel their curious eyes boring into the back of his head. He did his best to ignore them.

Helga was still manually shutting the library doors that never quite shut all the way on their own. She shared a few passing words with Peapod as he left.

"Hi, Helga. What was going on in the library?"

Helga started upon noticing him. "Shit, football head… Sneaking up on people has always been a talent of yours, hasn't it?"

Arnold noted the familiarity of the situation, but was glad that he wasn't received as nastily as times past. He gave a shy smile. "Sorry…I'll walk louder next time."

"Nice. So, uh… What did you want?"

"Just to say hi. You weren't at the bench today. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah… just… more of that fundraiser business you saw the other day. It's getting a little demanding."

"What was happening in there?" He pointed to the library doors.

"Just ended a student council meeting. Pretty asinine stuff, most times. Did manage to swing the Theatre Club a larger budget for their rendition of You Can't Take It With You."

"That's really cool, actually. Do you like theatre or something?"

"I guess, yeah… I dabble. Not in shit like Cats, though. I have standards."

"Not very subtle, is it? That play, I mean."

"Exactly! No subtlety. I'd prefer… well, not that you care."

"No, I'd like to know."

Helga gave Arnold an insistent look. "No, really. Why do you care? Why are you over here talking to me, especially while your friends are just over there?" She jerked her head in the direction of the other four boys.

"I… just wanted to say hi to you, Helga."

She only blinked at him. Arnold couldn't help but notice the way her hair glowed, even in the school's institutional fluorescent lights.

"And maybe even to ask you if you were free sometime this weekend."

Helga was excessively quiet now, breaking eye contact with him to look about the hallway in the way one does during awkward moments.

Arnold realized how he had sounded and leapt to remedy his mistake. "I didn't mean it like that… It would just be to hang out and talk. We could go to a café and get some food, or just… chill. As friends."

He felt embarrassed now. He hadn't approached Helga with the intention of asking her to hang out this weekend. It had just… escaped him by some means. And maybe it was her thigh-high tube socks that were making him speak before he chose his words. Or the cute little kitten band-aid on her elbow that made her look so scrappy. Either way, he kind of hoped she would say yes.

"S-sorry, kid. I have plans this weekend."

"You… you do?"

"Yeah. Real shame. Try for next weekend?"

"Okay. We can do that."

She turned to leave, but paused before rotating back to Arnold.

"Hang on."

Arnold watched as she took out a scrap of paper and a pencil from her bag. She held the paper against the wall to jot something down.

Helga handed it to him. "You might want this. For planning purposes."

He took the torn sheet of notebook paper from her hand. It had a phone number scratched onto it, with the texture of the wall showing through the graphite marks.

"Don't call after 10." With that remark, she left to be absorbed by the current of moving students. In seconds, Arnold could no longer see her.

He looked down again at the scrap in his hand. At first, he had felt genuinely let down. And he couldn't figure out why. Did he want to see Helga that much?

But now, it wasn't so bad. Arnold took this as a sign of a development in their relationship. Real, physical proof that they had moved beyond the unhealthy bully-and-victim condition that had been the case for so many years. And maybe it was proof that Helga was finally letting her walls down for him. But maybe not, he thought. Maybe she just likes everyone to have her number. One way to find out was to text her.

Arnold tucked the scrap into his jacket pocket. Later. But not after 10.

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. The teacher still hadn't returned to unlock the classroom door. As Arnold returned to the, now larger, group of kids waiting to enter their class, Gerald gave him a shrug.

"Golly, Arnold. I reckon I ain't never seen you and Helga have a conversation at school that didn't end in her giving you a good proverbial lashing." Stinky marveled.

"Yeah, man. You doing okay?" Gerald must have seen something on Arnold's face to warrant his concerned expression.

"I'm good, dude. I'll tell you later." Arnold reassured.

Harold cracked his knuckles. "You sure, Arnold? I'm not afraid to hit a tyrant like her, even if she is a girl."

"Harold, no."

Helga was screaming internally as she walked to class.

I can't believe I did that. She thought. Not only did I give a boy a number. I gave the boy of my romantic childhood fantasies my number as a follow-up to turning down HIS offer to go on an… "outing" with me this weekend when I have absolutely nothing planned. I have lost all control.

The school day ended several hours later. At Helga's locker, Phoebe offered her a ride home in her car, to which she declined, claiming she had a responsibility to stay for a portion of that night's PTO meeting.

"I'm setting up the refreshments table and introducing the superintendent. Y'know, lame stuff for appearances."

"It gives you taste of real-world politics, though." Phoebe encouraged. "Its small time, but you've got to start somewhere."

Helga raised her brow. "You don't have any big expectations of me, do you? I'm not really gunning for a position in government."

"Not yet, you aren't!"

"Okay, mom. Careful about pressuring me into a career I'll hate in 20 years. You know what? I retract my sarcasm. This kind of parenting is an improvement over my current mother's method."

Phoebe giggled. They were silent for a moment before she brought up the subject Helga was hoping she wouldn't bring up.

"I wasn't going to ask in front of everyone else, so I'll ask now. What made you not want to sit with Arnold today?"

"Nothing. Just needed to talk to you guys for a change. Change the routine up a bit."

"You're not avoiding him, are you?"

"No! To the contrary! I actually… gave him my number a few hours ago."

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Really?!"

"Yup."

"That's very rare for you!"

"I know. There's only like five people at the high school that have it. Well, six now."

"Whatever made you make such a bold move?"

"Well… to revisit the 'avoiding Arnold' theory, I kind of turned down his offer to hang out this weekend. And I have literally nothing else planned."

Phoebe gave the expression of disappointment that Helga could feel coming for miles. But it was quickly replaced with a broad smile.

"It's okay, though. You've made net progress."

"You think so?"

"Yes. But do consider sitting with him again. He looked kind of lonely today."

They parted ways in front of the school. Though she was going to do all those things for the PTO meeting in about an hour and a half, she also had a meeting with Cordelia and a few other people that she didn't necessarily want Phoebe to know about.

They were meeting in the curious little sculpture park beside the Cool Beans Coffee House four blocks south of the school. Cordelia was way into contemporary art, something that Helga didn't really grasp.

She was sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette and scrolling through her phone when Helga walked up to her. The bench itself was a big red abstract shape with its own plaque that read the title and artist of the piece. The entire park was full of pieces done in a similar style. Abstract and monochrome, the same sort of cast metal. Helga surmised that the entire park was done by the same artist.

"Are you even old enough to smoke those?" She sat down beside Cordelia

"Depends. Do you sell them?" She puffed.

"Where are the others?"

"Inside. I gave them some cash for our drinks."

"You are too perfect."

A few minutes passed before three other high schoolers exited the shop holding a drink carrier, Eugene among them. The coffees were all iced and laden with creamer and whipped topping, save for one hot, black brew.

"Just the way mama likes it." Helga snagged it.

The others pulled up some outdoor seating and joined them, sipping their drinks. Helga remembered the face of the boy to Eugene's left, but the other girl she had never met before, though she knew her name was Mary Beth.

Cordelia stood, dropping her cigarette on the ground despite the cement ashtray that was not four feet from her. "Now that we have everybody, we can start.

"Eugene. Tyler's given you an excellent review. She paid for a B and you delivered. Here's your cut." Cordelia unzipped her purse to produce a fifty dollar bill.

Eugene was beaming as he received his payment. "Wow. Those night-long writing sessions for a class I've never taken really paid off! I think I'll put this toward my college education."

Cordelia ignored him. "Lennie. You did well. Rhonda tried to tell me that you had skimped on your vocabulary usage to get out of paying you in full, but my source tells me you gave her the A+ she paid for. So no worries. I'll have the rest of your cut Thursday at the latest." She again produced the payment from her bag, this time counting out seventy-five dollars.

Lennie reached out with trembling hands. "T-thank you." He said, barely audible.

Lennie, Helga recalled, was a twitchy, anxious senior with some of the highest grades in the school system. He was really making a killing doing these jobs.

"Next one's yours." Cordelia sat back down onto the bench.

Helga looked again at the girl she hadn't met before. She was short, had on a grey coat that was two sizes too large for her, and wore thick-rimmed glasses. She observed the group with utter apathy. Helga felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Mary Beth," Helga stood and sighed. "Your paper, written for Julie Parker's midterm essay assignment in AP Government, 2nd period, was two letter grades below what was promised to be a B+. That is your second and last strike."

Mary Beth spoke up. "But I wrote the paper, didn't I?"

"Sure, you wrote a paper. But you wrote a shit paper."

"I stayed up all night writing! How am I supposed to guarantee some girl I don't even know a certain letter grade in a class that's supposed to be two grades above mine? "

"By actually working for it." Helga snapped. "Those are the terms you agreed to when you signed on. Because this is your second strike, we are retaining your cut of the commission and pulling your contract. There isn't any room for screwing around here."

"That's bullshit! We had a deal to split 60/40 on every commission!"

"Only if you DELIVER." Helga was losing her patience. "Julie didn't even pay the agreed amount, and I didn't try to make her. So really, by retaining your cut, we profited just as much as if you had written that B like you were supposed to."

Mary Beth was standing now, her little fists balled up beside her. "Fuck you guys. Your little 'operation' is such a scam. You're just overcharging high schoolers for homework done by strangers. It's shitty."

"Then leave." Cordelia said coolly.

"Please." Helga concurred.

Mary Beth's mouth opened, but made no sound. She only shook with anger. Finally, she snatched her coffee cup and stormed out of the park.

Cordelia produced a clipboard and pen. She was scratching out something that was previously written there. "That went well."

Helga approached the two that remained. "Okay, you guys. Midterms are over, so things will be pretty slow for a while. We'll call you back when there's more stuff to do. And remember to keep it mum." She moved two pinched fingers across her lips as if zipping them shut.

Lennie left quietly. Eugene stayed to approach Helga.

"I just wanted to thank you guys for this opportunity. I wasn't sure of it at first, but you really showed me just how this is good for me. And I'm learning at the same time!"

"I'm glad, Eugene. You're doing a good job."

He beamed as he left the sculpture park. Helga could hear the "oof!" as he tripped just out of her field of vision.

Helga turned to Cordelia. "Do we have a plan to keep Ms. Beth from blabbing to the wrong people? Because she will."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "No, but I'm working on it. I'm just relieved that she stepped out. She's hurting our cred."

"Yeah… We need to make it up to Julie. Super low offer on her next commission."

She grimaced. "Yikes. That's gonna come out of our pocket."

"I think it's worth it. She's lazy and fucking rich. If she leaves with a better taste in her mouth, she'll come back for her final English paper."

"You're probably right." Cordelia said without looking up from her phone.

Helga's own phone buzzed in her pocket. Plopping down on the bench again, she flipped it open to see who had texted her.

She didn't recognize the number. That could only mean that it was from Arnold.

Her heart skipped a beat.

A message that soon? Helga held her thumb over the 'open' button. Why was this stressing her out so much? He was just some kid to her now, right? Some overly-friendly boy from her class. Any crush she had felt was totally over. She could do this. Just read the message.

She hit 'open message.'

Hey, its Arnold. Just texting so you have my number too. :)

She couldn't help but sigh with relief that this was all it was.

Cordelia peered over her shoulder. "Everything okay?"

Helga reflexively clutched the phone to her chest. "Absolutely."

"Y'know, Helga, you're a pretty good liar most of the time. But that was just miserable."

She stuck out her tongue. "I don't have to be subtle about keeping secrets. I just have to keep them."

"Fair enough." Cordelia admitted. "Although, if you let on for long enough that you've got secrets, sooner or later, someone's gonna find a way to get to them."

"Knowing me, that wouldn't be the brightest thing t-"

In one flitting motion, Cordelia had snatched Helga's flip phone from her hands before she had a chance to realize it.

"DUDE." Helga grabbed for her phone, though it was held just out of reach. Cordelia was doing everything in her power to push Helga back long enough to understand the text on the phone screen.

"What is there to even hide here, H?"

"Nothing! You've read my phone, good job. Now give it back."

Cordelia tucked the phone behind her back. "Nuh uh. Not until you fess up why you're being so cagey about this Arnold character. You avoid talking about him like the plague."

"Cord, that's just me. I always keep to myself."

"Not like this. You're all jumpy and easy to catch off-guard. Like you have a dark secret." Cordelia raised her hands to wiggle her fingertips, flip phone still in hand. Helga snatched at it again, missing. Cordelia had already held it away, out of reach.

"It's not a 'dark' secret. Just a normal secret. If I tell you, will you return the damn phone?"

"That's the plan, Stan." She winked.

"Screw you." Helga slouched and folded her arms.

She reluctantly recounted the details of elementary school crush she had nursed to an unhealthy extent. All of the abuse and jealousy and regret. Though she may have deliberately side-stepped her excessive stalking and shrine-building, the confession was mostly genuine. She also explained how she had dropped that affection during middle school and had minimal contact with the boy until recently.

Cordelia fluttered her eyelids in disbelief, handing the phone back at last. "And you're all in a dither because…?"

"I don't know! That's what's bugging me. I shouldn't like him anymore. And I was rather enjoying that freedom. But now, it's like my stomach is in this knot I can't undo. And it's stressing me out, man." She clutched at her shoulders.

"Chill, dude. It's okay. You know what this sounds like? It sounds like you still have those feelings tucked away somewhere. But they're bound and gagged and can't do anything."

"That's… not an extreme metaphor."

"It's not. And it also looks like you're repressing those poor little feelings, squirming around in their little hostage situations. You should probably let them out. It would be the ethical thing to do."

"Well, maybe I'm not a very ethical person."

"You would be correct. But then you would never feel any reprieve from the torment you feel. And that will slowly drive you to madness."

Helga looked at Cordelia in astonishment. "You are freaking me out right now."

"Is it because I'm right?"

"Shit…"

"Actually, I'm just making stuff up as we go. But it sounds legit, right?" She smiled playfully.

Helga didn't have any words. She just stared at the concrete.

Cordelia's expression immediately became one of concern. "Oh, crap, I didn't mean for all that to get to you, dude." She tugged on Helga's arm. "Here, let's just go. I'll walk you home."

"… Actually, you could just walk me back to the school. I have a student government thing there in a few minutes."

"Oh, good. I needed to head in that direction anyway. Fuzzy Slippers is having a pool tournament tonight."

But was she right? Helga thought as they began walking away from the park. Would she be eaten alive by her inner emotions if she kept them bottled up in this way for too long? Surely she couldn't go more insane than she had when she was actually in touch with her feelings.

"Look, H, I'm sorry for stressing you out. You can act on your emotions however you want. Don't let me pressure you into feeling a certain way, okay?"

"It's fine. I do think there's some truth to what you're saying. But I literally do not know what to do about it."

"You could hang out with the guy."

"I thought you said you weren't going to pressure me."

"… into feeling a certain way. You can absolutely go to dinner with someone you don't like or even hate. I've done it too many times."

Helga laughed. "That's true. But you did manage to schmooze them over."

"You know what? The least you should do is reply to that text. Everything after that will be your decision, and I'll leave you alone about it from now on."

"Wow, really? You? Stay out of my business?" Helga made a dismissive noise.

"I know, right? You owe me for it, too."

As she walked, Helga flipped open her phone again. The message was still there, waiting.

"I probably will. Gimme time to think."

"Probably will what?" Cordelia said absentmindedly, again not looking up from her phone.

"Text him back, dummy."

"Oh yeah."

Helga arrived at her home, tired from the school function. She unlocked the door and entered the empty house, ignoring the mess in the kitchen and heading straight upstairs to her room.

It had always been eerie when the Pataki home was quiet. For as long as she had been here, there had always been some sort of racket, some sort of clue that someone was present. At the least, you could hear the sound of Bob's game shows on the box television or the blender whirring. The most quiet it had ever been was whenever Miriam had passed out behind the couch and would snore loudly. Olga's cheerful and overly excited voice would occasionally ring out throughout the house whenever she was in town. But those were rarities nowadays. Both of Helga's parents worked late, only getting home when Helga was well asleep. Likewise, in the mornings, Helga would awake for school while Mr. and Mrs. Pataki would still be unconscious wherever they had laid down first. The house was hardly as clean as it used to be. Helga figured she could've picked up on some of the housekeeping, but she didn't like spending too much time downstairs.

True, she did see her parents around the home on weekends. But Helga usually made a point to be out of the house on those days. This coming weekend's lack of any activity was an unfortunate mishap that was not of her choosing. Everyone she normally made plans with had other engagements. And spending hours by yourself in town was always a little uncomfortable.

Though, there was one person available that she knew of.

Helga flung open the door to her room and shuffled over to her bed, collapsing on it. She let go of her bag on the floor next to the bed, rolled over, and opened her phone again.

I don't have to do this because I want to see him, she thought. I can do this just to get out of the house and avoid Bob and Miriam.

Helga's hands were almost trembling as she reopened her inbox.

Besides, it's a totally platonic hang out. He said so himself. Nothing romantic is or will ever be intended.

She selected the message he had sent, scoffing quietly at the smiley emoticon he had used.

This is going to be so weird for me.

She hit reply and began typing.

Thanks. Actually, it turns out I have a free slot this weekend. Saturday evening.

Helga quickly backspaced. Saturday evening was strongly associated with dating. She didn't want to give the impression that she was suggesting anything close to a date.

Saturday afternoon. Were you still wanting to hang out?

Her thumb wavered undecidedly over the "send" button for a moment.

She pressed it.

Done. It was sent. She had replied. Satisfied, Cordelia?

Helga lay on her back in her bed, clutching her phone to her chest and letting her eyes wander. Her room had changed considerably in attitude since her elementary school days. She had a few posters on the walls showcasing some of her interests. Bob had once taken her to a monster truck rally, which was still one of the coolest things she had ever seen. A poster from that event two years ago was tacked up beside her closet. There were a few band posters, a cork board with various reminders and information pinned onto it, and a body mirror with a few stickers stuck to the corners. The pink bed sheets and pillows were gone, replaced instead with a solid white down pillows and comforter, the most comfortable things in the world. On her dresser, there stood a purple lava lamp Miriam thought served as a birthday present. She had received it the very same year her parents had paid for a new car for Olga.

She felt the abrupt buzzing of the phone on her clavicle, making her jump.

Though she was dying to see Arnold's response, she was intensely anxious for reasons she couldn't discern. She swallowed and raised the phone to her face.

Hey helga what do you do if you ppour liquid soap into the dishwasher and then the kitchen floods with bubbles just curios I asked tyler but she told me to ask u

Helga swore under her breath. It was only Sam.

Wait... Helga went back to her inbox. There were two messages there that she had received at the same time.

She opened the other one. This time, it really was from Arnold.

I would really like that, actually. I was thinking I could come get you at 3 or so, and we could take a cab to the boardwalk and get some food there.

Holy shit. Helga didn't know what to feel, except her fingers squeezing her phone. Does she just agree and that's it? No. She wanted to appear less available than that.

4 works better for me, if that's okay.

It meant another hour stuck in the house, but surely she could live through that.

That okay! I'm looking forward to it. I'll see you at 4 :)

There's that fucking smiley face again. Helga couldn't bring herself to think what the actual hangout would be like. She began to think instead of improbable scenarios. He might be insufferable, she thought. She could hate his guts and walk out on him. Maybe even toss her beverage all over his shirt before she left. But he could also live up to everything her girlish fantasies had once held him to. He could be perfect. It was unlikely, but he had every chance to live up to those expectations.

Helga tapped out another message.

If you don't mind me asking, why did you want to see me this weekend?

She would be lying if she said she wasn't terrified to ask this question. But the temptation of knowing was all too great, and maybe the question would make him nervous, too.

It took a moment, but she finally received a reply.

Well, to be honest, I'd like to get to know you a little better.

Helga felt her cheeks grow warm. Was he that charmed during their interactions that he had to know more? She did try to keep up a constant front, meaning to imply that she was edgier than she actually was. Had it worked on this kid? Getting to know the real Helga meant that Arnold was going to learn that she was actually capable of having insecurities. She didn't necessarily want many people knowing that, in addition to how goofy, lame, and awkward she thought she could be. He hadn't been charmed by that Helga. He had been charmed by the aloof personality she showed to people she wasn't intimately close to.

But did this interest imply he liked her in any way? Helga hugged herself and wondered.