Chapter 29

Monday

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Helga groaned and rolled over. She didn't want to get up. It was Monday morning. Monday meant going to school. Going to school meant having to face Arnold. Facing Arnold meant having to talk about what happened on Saturday night, something that she didn't at all want to discuss.

She had spent most of Sunday locked in her closet, writing poem after poem about the experience. She had filled up an entire volume. She was overjoyed about the whole thing, but she was sure that Arnold wouldn't be. As soon as he saw her, he would start asking questions. Questions that she wouldn't have an answer to. At least, not answers that she wanted him to hear. It was an ordeal that she really didn't want to go through.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Criminy! What is that?" Helga wondered out loud, sitting up in bed.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Oh, great," she muttered. "Hey, Miriam! My roof's leaking!" she shouted.

"Oh, okay, that's nice, honey," she heard her mother say from downstairs.

"Oh, that's right. Why would you care if the roof over my head is leaking? I'm only your daughter," Helga said sarcastically. She quickly got dressed and went downstairs.

She walked into the living room. The news was on, but there was no one to listen to it.

"…water rising more than four feet as flood season continues. This is almost as bad as the flood of 1916. Back to you, Tom."

"Thanks, Jan. Yes, this is indeed very unusual weather, but I don't think it will be very serious."

"Not serious?" Helga thought, glancing at the water that came higher than the window and was increasing with every second. "Yeah, that's a laugh."

"But because of the weather," the news anchor droned on, "we have a list of school closers."

"School closers?" Helga was all ears now. "Oh, please say P.S.118. If I don't go to school then I'll have an extra day to prepare myself for what I'm going to say. Please say P.S.118."

"Okay, here they are. P.S.113, P.S.114, P.S.115…"

"Come on already! P.S.118!"

"P.S.116, P.S.117, P.S.118, excuse me, that's P.S.119, not 18, P.S.120, P.S.121-"

"Stupid weather man!" Helga shouted, turning the TV off.

"Helga?"

Helga screamed and turned around. "Miriam! Don't ever surprise me like that! Ever!"

"Oh, okay. So…what are your plans for today, Helga?"

"I have school, remember?"

"School…? Oh, that's right! School. That's the place where you go to learn things, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is, mom. Aren't you clever."

"So, have you been making good grades?"

"Actually, I flunked a geography exam and forgot all about my science fair project," Helga lied.

"Well, that's good dear. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go…make a smoothie."

"You do that, Miriam."

Helga grabbed a piece of toast and headed out the door.

"Stupid family," she muttered angrily.

She was immediately greeted by water, so high that she almost had to swim to make it to the bus, which she, by a miracle, hadn't missed. The bus doors opened, letting in a stream of water.

"Hurry up, missy, before my whole bus is flooded!" the bus driver snapped.

Helga reluctantly stepped onto the bus. Everyone on the bus was dripping with water. It was pretty funny seeing everyone in such a sorry condition, but Helga was in no mood to laugh. She walked down the aisle slowly, imagining that everyone was staring at her, waiting for her to spill the beans, so they could tease her. But everyone was to busy complaining about the weather or trying to get dry to pay any attention to her. She walked past Arnold, feeling sure that she would faint if he uttered a word, but he didn't even look up. She sat in the seat behind him, next to Phoebe.

"Hey, Pheebs. Some weather, huh?"

"It is rather unusual but highly possible. We have been having a very rainy season. The most likely cause is that the condensing of the rain was not fully absorbed or maybe because the cumulous clouds have held a greater volume…"

Helga droned Phoebe's voice out, as she had learned to do when she began talking about the scientific aspect of things. Instead, she stared at the back of Arnold's head and sighed to herself.

"Oh, Arnold! Bade of my existence, blithe upon my tortured heart! How wonderful you are and yet how mysterious. How come you didn't even glance my way? I mean, I'm rather glad you didn't, but I still expected you to. You found me behind your couch for crying out loud! Are you not even gonna acknowledge that? Are you just going to pretend like nothing happened? Are you too embarrassed to talk about it? Or did you just not see me? Did you even-"

"Helga?"

"Arnold?!" Helga exclaimed, glancing up. "I mean, what do you want, Arnoldo? Can't I have a minute to myself? Sheesh."

"I just thought you might want to know that everyone's already off the bus."

"No, they're…" Helga glanced around. "Well, what do you know. No matter. Outta my way, football head!" she shouted, as she stood up and pushed Arnold aside, stalking past him.

Arnold sighed and followed her out the door, into the flooded street. They both dashed across the street and made it to the steps of the school but not before they had gotten completely drenched.

"Stupid weather," Helga muttered, as she stepped inside the school.

"Yeah, it is."

"I wasn't talking to you, Arnoldo!" she spat, turning to face him. "Quit following me, would ya? What do you want anyway?"

"I'm not following you. I'm just walking to the classroom."

"Oh…right," Helga said, a little disappointed.

"Why doesn't he say anything about what happened?" she thought desperately. "Why won't he even hint at anything?" She looked at him curiously, as though trying to read his mind.

"What?" he asked.

"What's your problem, Arnold?!" she suddenly exclaimed. "How come you won't say anything about what happened?"

"Sorry but…what happened?"

"What happened?! What do you mean, 'what happened'?!"

"Um…listen, Helga. I've gotta get to class so uh, I'll see you around," he said nervously, starting to fear a little for her sanity. "If she keeps going on like this, I'll have a third dream about her tonight," Helga heard him say, as he walked down the hall.

She stood, frozen in the middle of the hallway.

"So, that's it!" she exclaimed. "He thinks it's a dream! He thinks it was all a dream! Oh, Arnold! My poor football headed love god! How unfortunate that you fail to remember our midnight encounter! And yet, maybe it is all for the better if you do not know. Oh, Arnold, why must you always make everything so complicated? Can't you just make everything work out for once? Can't you-"

She suddenly heard that familiar breathing behind her. Without a word she socked Brainy and slunk off to class.