A/N: Well, there really isn't much to say rather than this will be the best chapter of this whole story. Well, as I always say, enjoy, enjoy, enjoy! Onward with the story!
After walking for about 2 blocks, Arnold looked at his watch. 8:02 only? I really just want this to end. Chez Paris wasn't too far away, and Helga wanted to break the awkward silence.
"Listen football head. I don't wanna be here as much as you do. So just sit down, order your food, eat, and that will be the end of it, got it?"
"Yes, Helga." Arnold glumly replied.
Helga kept scowling at Arnold, but it was only to study the perfection about him. The bright yellow spiky hair complemented his dark black tuxedo, the light but addictive orange scent that permeated throughout the air, his red cap that separated the two handfuls of hair, and his tuxedo, with his freshly ironed shirt and straight silky tie. His shoes also appeared to be polished, with an ocean sea feel to them. Be nice, be nice, be nice… The sight of Chez Paris interrupted her thoughts.
"Well… here we are." Arnold said, trying to lighten up the mood.
"I know how to read a sign, cheese brain!" Helga growled. She was really thinking, No, no, no! Be nice, be nice!
"Ok, well I was just saying." Arnold retaliated.
When they stepped in the door, Arnold was greeted by a tall man in a long apron. It had said, "I get paid to work here!" in big, red letters. The man spoke with a country accent.
"How many, kid?"
"2 people, sir." Arnold said, motioning an arm to Helga.
"Let's try this again. How many, kid?" The man shouted, looking red hot with anger. Arnold thought for a moment, but then Helga spoke and said, "2 personnes, monsieur."
"Right this way, guys." The man said with a smile. Arnold was confused as to how Helga knew French. It reminded him of Cecile, the girl he had ran back and forth with when he used to like Ruth. When they had sat down, Arnold chose to follow the "advice" Grandpa had given him and he started a conversation.
"Hey Helga, when did you learn French?" Arnold asked, feeling like he had taken a big risk.
Helga swallowed all of her meanness and cockiness down her throat and reassured herself. Be nice, be nice, be nice. "Well I don't know. I guess I just picked it up or something.
"Well that's cool. I would like to know how to speak French." Arnold said, realizing this was going smoother than he thought. At that point, the waitress came to ask for drinks.
"Water, please." Arnold requested honestly, feeling somewhat depleted after that walk from his house to Helga's house, then from her house to Chez Paris.
"Get me a tall glass of Dr. Fizzy with extra ice cubes, madam." Helga said. The woman looked disgusted and offended, and then she walked away. Arnold chose to continue the conversation where they had left off.
"Helga, you remind me of this girl I saw when I had gone here before. Her name was Cecile." Arnold said.
Helga froze solid in her tracks at this comment. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! What am I gonna do if he finds out that I really was the Cecile he had met? Oh, this isn't looking so good. Helga felt her heart slowly sink and her confidence level dropped drastically. She kicked her brain into action and thought of the only reply she could possibly come up with.
"Cool."
At that moment, the front doors of the French restaurant opened, and Gerald and Phoebe walked in the room, holding a free dinner pass. Both Arnold and Helga wondered how they could have gotten a pass. When they walked over to sit across from Arnold and Helga, it was Gerald who spoke first.
"What's up, Arnold. How's it going with Helga?" Gerald asked.
"Bad with a capital B." Arnold lied, hiding the fact that he was having a great time and that he could have been developing feelings for Helga.
Helga took offense to this answer. All of this time I have tried to be nice to him and he didn't care? He had a bad time? Was I too boring? Did I smell bad? "Well it's not like I'm having a good time with you either, rat face." Helga said, trying hard not to reveal the extreme hurt and sadness she was going through. She glanced over at Phoebe, who looked as if she knew something Helga didn't. She also had a small grin on her face.
"How did you two get in here?" Arnold asked.
"Some kid from P.S. 119 didn't want his prize, so he gave it to me and I called up Phoebe. Now here we are." Gerald replied.
"Sitting here on the perforated leather booths, enjoying our presence here at Chez Paris." Phoebe added happily.
Helga realized she had to act cruel now that Gerald and Phoebe were here. As much as I don't want to, I have to.
Just then the same waitress came to Arnold and Helga's table and asked what they would want to eat.
"May I have the steak frites, please?" Arnold asked, reading off the menu.
"Get me a double cheeseburger with a side of cheese fries. If you French species don't know how to make a burger, learn. And hurry up with my order!" Helga scowled, with her feet on the table.
The waitress made a very insulted and disturbed face, then she headed in the direction of the kitchen. Helga continued to play angry. Arnold made a motion with his mouth to say something, but Helga interrupted him.
"What did I tell you, football head! Just don't talk to me! Stay silent, order your food, eat, and do nothing else! Gosh, you are very annoying!" Every word of those sentences felt like knives repeatedly stabbing her soft soul.
Gerald shot Arnold a sorry look that Arnold could tell meant, "If I were you I would just kill myself now." Arnold handed Gerald a look that Gerald could tell meant, "I know." He was wondering what happened to the Helga 10 minutes ago, the Helga that actually was nice to him and thoughtful. He also started to ponder the idea how he could have feelings for a heartless, soulless girl like Helga. He felt two imaginary characters – an angel and a devil – appear on his shoulder for some helpful hints. The angel said," If you really like her, then explain to her that you like her, tell why you do, and maybe she will soften up and be a nicer to you." The devil stated, "She is a bad girl! She is ugly, smells bad, and stupid. How are you gonna just let her yell at you like that! Be a man! Don't take what she just said to you! Stand up to yourself!" Arnold felt his body shift to being cruel, and his hormones filled with revenge and rage. HE wondered if this is how murderers felt after being sent to jail. Suddenly Arnold stood up and said something that surprised everyone in the room, even Helga.
"Helga! Stop talking to me like that! I have tried so hard to be nice to you. I gave you so many chances, even after you called me names like 'football head' and 'barf brain' and 'geek bait'. I'm finished! I'm over it! Why don't you start caring for yourself instead of devoting your whole life to being mean to me! In fact, I don't even know if you have a life, or if that big pink dress is hiding all of the niceness that I liked about you. Bring out the other Helga. What happened to her?" Arnold got back in his seat.
Helga was caught off guard and very shaken. She realized how much of a brat she was being towards Arnold, but she couldn't show her niceness yet. She couldn't be the "real Helga".
"Well fine, football head. I never liked you anyways, and I always thought you were annoying. Don't ever talk to me again." Helga said, with a touch of weariness and regret.
A/N: I bet you weren't expecting that, huh! Well anyway, check back for Chapter 4, where you might see a change in Helga. Or will you? Anyway, stay tuned, because this chapter won't be out for a while.