Shiny Silver Surfaces
(22 years old)

"Food here is so..."

Arnold Shortman looked up and raised an eyebrow at Helga Pataki, who was studying her copy of the restaurant menu with a very serious frown. "Excessive?" he suggested.

Helga bit her lip and tilted her head slightly, "It's like people from Texas have bigger stomachs than us..." she reasoned, tapping her nail against the item labelled Ribs 'n' Rump, a large plate of ribs with a side of rump steak, "Do you think it's a genetic mutation?"

"I seriously doubt that, Helga." Arnold chuckled in response, his own eyes landing on the sandwich dubbed the 'Bacon Overload'.

She crinkled her nose a little, "Eh, I'll ask Geraldo." she decided, "He'll know."

"Yes." Arnold agreed patiently, in his perfected 'whatever you say, Helga' tone, "But I bet he'll say the exact same thing I did."

Helga dropped her menu and smiled at him with a little twinkle in her eye, "Probably, just to spite me." she joked, and she then proceeded to look around the brightly lit restaurant for the third instance in a very short space of time, "Where are they anyway, isn't this place right near their apartment on campus?"

Arnold nodded, and tapped the screen of his phone, "Phoebe only called two minutes ago." he concluded as he scrolled through his call history, "I'm sure they'll be here soon."

"Ugh, patience is not my forte!" Helga whined loudly tapping her fingers against the silver surface of the table, which was so shiny it was scarily reflective.

Setting his menu down, and trying to avoid the fact that he could see the mirror image of his hair on the tabletop, Arnold met her eyes, "A year ago I might have agreed with you." he conceded with a smile, "But now I know you're lying."

Helga let out a frustrated breath of air, it was still odd each time she realised Arnold knew her better than she sometimes knew herself, "I am not patient." she insisted, disagreeing with him simply for the fun of it had never lost its appeal.

"Liar." Arnold smirked, nudging her leg with his underneath the table, which caught her slightly unaware for a moment, "I've seen you literally watch paint dry."

She shook her head indignantly, "Very different." and she nudged his leg in return, after all, nobody gets the one-up on Helga Pataki, "That was the first wall I'd ever painted... ever. It was special."

Arnold raised an eyebrow, but didn't push it any further, and she had done a brilliant job, "The kitchen thanks you." he informed her.

"My pleasure." she said casually, waving a hand to signal it was no big deal, "The owner of the kitchen is pretty cute, so..." and she flashed him that impish smile, he'd so often mistaken as being snide in the past.

He shook his head, "Sorry, the owner of the kitchen has a fiancé." he said in mock sadness, with a little shrug of his shoulders.

Helga glared at him, "Hilarious, Football Head, really hilarious." and with that, she proceeded to attempt hiding her smile behind the menu. It didn't work.

Arnold was just about to steal her menu away, to catch her smiling, because it always led to an adorable little blush, but he was cut off by a familiar voice and readily approaching footsteps.

"Helga!" Phoebe Heyerdahl called out happily, a bright smile on her face as she laid eyes upon her best friend, "Oh, I haven't seen you in so long." and she gathered the tall blonde into a tight hug before shuffling into the booth beside her, "How have you been?"

Gerald Johanssen, now officially abandoned by his girlfriend, grinned and slid into the booth by Arnold, reaching out to complete their timeless handshake. Across the table, the girls continued their discussion.

"Fine, Pheebs, just fine." Helga assured her, giving her over-excitable best friend a once over with her eyes before turning to Gerald across the table, "Geraldo, what on earth have you been feeding her?"

Gerald rolled his eyes good naturedly, "Hello Pataki." he said with mock exasperation, "Sorry for the delay." and he motioned between Helga and Arnold, "Good to see you two haven't killed each other yet."

Helga bit the inside of her lip a little, she had been very close to attacking him, but not exactly in the angry sort of way Gerald would have been expecting, "It was a close call." she quipped, sending Arnold a look across the table, to which he simply smiled.

"Look at you two!" Phoebe chirped happily, her eyes darting between them, "Talking semi-amiably. Nobody is even throwing anything yet."

Pursing her lips together, Helga clearly recalled the pen throwing incident from the previous year's trip to visit Gerald and Phoebe in Austin. She knew, had their busy schedules allowed it, Gerald and Phoebe would have had them come at different times of the year. After all, everybody knew Helga and Arnold hated each other; at least, that's what everybody thought, including Arnold and Helga themselves. Well, until... roughly ten months ago.

She cleared her throat, "Listen, about that, there's something we need to tell you guys-"

"Woah!" Gerald exclaimed suddenly, abruptly cutting into Helga's attempt at enlightening them on recent events, "There's so much bacon in this sandwich!" and he pointed forcefully to the Bacon Overload and its corresponding picture.

Phoebe shook her head with a worried look, "Gerald, saturated fats will decrease your efficiency during training."

He groaned loudly in protest and dropped the menu slightly, "I know, I know." he said with a dejected tone, "Who thought I'd get to the point of wishing I could give up college basketball just for a bacon sandwich?"

Arnold laughed, "Me."

"Okay, except you." Gerald countered, crossing his arms like a child denied candy, "You don't count."

Phoebe shot him a smile, but realising his sulking could continue long into their lunch date, she turned to Helga and attempted to change the subject, "Helga, how is your book going?" and then she paused and thought about it a little further, "How is Hillwood?"

Helga sighed, the book was really stressing her out lately, and before she could even open her mouth to reply she felt a Arnold's leg stroke hers underneath the table and she relaxed. "Book is... almost done." she responded with a smile, which was true, and it possibly would be finished entirely if she wasn't being a perfectionist about it, but that didn't matter, "And... Hillwood is still Hillwood."

"Sounds thrilling." Gerald teased, probably expecting that something exciting must have happened in the four years they'd been in Austin, or at least the year since they'd last visited, but it really hadn't, "About as riveting as watching paint dry."

Arnold chuckled to himself a little, "Watching paint dry isn't so bad, if you've got good company." he stated knowingly, shooting Helga a little look across the table.

Looking at him with great pity, Gerald shook his head, "I think you've been stuck in Hillwood too long, man." he decided, clearly not impressed that his best friend was enjoying the practice of watching paint dry as a general hobby, "Good thing you're down in good ol' Austin, we can live it up!"

Appearing dubious in regards to Gerald's plans, Arnold raised an eyebrow, "Live it up?" he questioned.

Gerald nodded, grinning, "Yeah, you know, experience the nightlife, pick up some sexy single ladies..." and he motioned over toward Phoebe before clarifying, "Well, single ladies for you, but I'll be your wingman."

Arnold grimaced, the concept sounded terrible, and totally unnecessary of course, "Uh Gerald, I don't need a wingman, I-"

"No, no, listen up..." Gerald continued with great enthusiasm, his menu and all thoughts of the Bacon Overload now entirely forgotten, "I've been the official wingman for some guys from the team and I'm top-notch, I swear!"

Helga growled a little, "Geraldo, shut up." she demanded rather bluntly.

Gerald looked very unimpressed, and Phoebe placed a hand on her shoulder, "It's okay Helga, we can go out too." she suggested with a smile, trying her best to rectify what she felt the problem may be, "I'm not certain I possess the necessary skills to be a confident wingwoman but I could attempt t-"

"No." Arnold cut her off with a shake of his head.

Helga nodded, and frowned at both Gerald and Phoebe, "Exactly, no." she echoed.

Assured he held their attention, finally, Arnold attempted to explain, "Helga and I are-"

"Oh, you know what we could do, Helga?" Phoebe suddenly blurted out, waving her hands around in excitement, and completely forgetting the fact that Arnold was trying to speak, "Dinner at Zambiergo, it's this amazing restaurant just by The Palladium Hotel!"

Helga shook her head and shot Phoebe a sad look, "Sorry, we've been there, done that." she informed her, not that she wouldn't go again, but she wouldn't be able fake 'first time excitement'.

Phoebe pouted slightly, "You've been to Zambiergo?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're staying at The Palladium, so it's convenient." Helga explained.

Looking up from his menu, which he had brought back to eye-level and still had open to the sandwiches page, Gerald frowned, "Pataki, you're only one person." he reminded her , "Quit it with the 'we'."

Helga slammed her fist, her left one, down onto the table and the two silver surfaces created a bright sparkle against one another, "Criminy!" she groaned in frustration.

"Gerald..." Arnold sighed, giving Helga an apologetic look, and wincing slightly from the bright silver light, it was rather ridiculous how reflective the table top was, "I don't quite see how you're not underst-"

Gerald dropped his menu again, eyes dancing with excitement, "Man, I've got a great idea!" he proclaimed, "Tonight we're going to go to the big college street party for the... what is it again, babe?"

Phoebe reached for her phone from her bag, apparently not noticing the blinding light coming from Helga's general vicinity, "Multicultural Day." she confirmed, tapping away at the screen of her phone, "It begins at seven o'clock."

Helga dropped her hand and sighed, maybe she'd just jump Arnold later and get them with the shock approach. Across the table, Gerald grinned at Phoebe, "Yeah, that's it!" he confirmed, turning back to look at Arnold, "How about that?"

"Sure, sounds interesting," Arnold agreed, after all, Helga always found a way to cover herself in glow sticks at street carnivals, and she looked pretty all lit up.

Narrowing her eyes at Gerald, Helga crossed her arms, "Are we all going?" she asked, "Or is this a 'wingman' adventure?"

Gerald frowned, "Uh, I don't know." he said carefully, his eyes flicking from Helga across to Arnold, "Arnold, you happy if Pataki tags along?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yes, Gerald." Arnold responded pointedly.

Pumping his fist slightly, Gerald laughed, "Look at that, you guys will be friends in no time." he assured them confidently.

Helga sighed, "Oh yes, I'm sure by the end of the night we'll be very friendly." she said sarcastically, causing Arnold to snigger a little across the table.

"Helga, please, I'm sure you two can learn to get along." Phoebe encouraged gently, with great concern that the fighting and throwing could recommence at any given moment.

Groaning, Helga slumped against the table and let her cheek rest on the shiny, cool, metallic surface, "I give up." she muttered in Arnold's direction and he nodded in sympathy.

Gerald, however, continued on undeterred, "Alright, so we'll pick you up at your hotel around 8, Pataki." he informed her, tapping the details into his phone as he went, "Arnold, where are you staying?"

Arnold sat back with a smirk, "The Palladium, Gerald." he said levelly.

Stilling the movement of his fingers, Gerald looked up with a confused expression, "Same hotel?" he questioned.

"Same freakin' room!" Helga huffed loudly, lifting her head from the table to stare at the both of their friends with great intensity.

They were met with silence, stone cold silence, and two blank stares from unmoving faces. Arnold wondered if they were going to be required to elaborate, and Helga wondered if their brains were going to explode.

"I'm sorry..." Phoebe began slowly, "Helga, are insinuating..."

Gerald raised an eyebrow and continued on for her, "That you..." he said, pointing toward Helga, "and you..." now pointing in Arnold's direction.

Eyes flicking between them both, Phoebe spoke up again, "Are..."

"Fucking?" Gerald asked, or rather stated, triumphantly.

"Gerald!" Phoebe squeaked in horror, her eyes wide at his assumption, "I was going to say dating!"

Gerald looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, considering the validity of her assessment, "Oh... my mind automatically went to hate sex." he concluded.

"Gerald!" Phoebe cried again.

Helga let out a long, deep sigh and raised her left hand onto the table, sliding it directly into both Gerald and Phoebe's line of sight. A few silent moments passed, where the couple simply stared at her finger, and how they managed that considering the blinding glare, Helga would never understand.

"Holy shit." Gerald practically shouted once he had fully comprehended the situation, and Helga moved her hand from the middle of the table, over to grasp Arnold's, whilst Phoebe let out a shrill squeal of pure happiness.