Glad you guys are enjoying this! I'm going to try to do Monday/ Wednesday updates from now on. Still collecting lesson ideas. =)
"You know, I'm still waiting for my explanation," Gerald remarked as he waved a French fry at me. "And it had better be pretty good."
I gave him a dark look as I tore open my ketchup packets, picking up the little paper fry basket and using the empty spot on my tray to make a red pool. "This is going under our agreement, section B."
His eyebrows shot up instantly, a frown tugging the corners of his mouth. "We made that stupid agreement in fifth grade, it stopped applying ages ago."
"It didn't stop applying when Phoebe had a date to the Valentine's dance sophomore year!" I countered.
"Fine! Under the stipulation of section B of our stupid fifth grade secrecy contract, the story at hand is never to be brought up again except when prompted by the original story teller. I promise," he pledged reluctantly, holding his fist out for out shake.
"You do realize now that if you bring this up without me initiating it, you have to be my slave for a week," I reminded him with a grin as I munched on my French fries.
"Those rules are stupid!" he whined, sulking as he twisted open his yahoo. "And you know we amended that rule in 6th grade so we can only have 5 section B secrets in our lifetime. So this makes the second for you, right after-"
"Slave!" I cried, shushing him with my hands. "We don't take about the other one!"
"Right! Right! Okay! What's the deal!"
"Okay, so remember when I stayed late to talk to Simmons the other day?"
"Yeah, and?"
"Well Helga came in to ask for the same thing. Obviously it didn't work out." I shrugged. "After hearing her poem, it occurred to me that she may know a bit more about girls and their emotional things than I could give her credit for."
"So you asked you for help? Oh come on Arnold, you're not trying to get back together with Lila, are you?" he groaned, looking at me pityingly. I recoiled away, pursing my lips.
"Why shouldn't I? I think about her all the time, I don't see the problem with it." I jammed my fry down in the ketchup forcefully.
"Arnold, man, just let her go. She's – look man, she's not going to go out with you again. I've heard rumors she's got a thing for an upper classman anyway."
I almost choked on my French fry, spluttering as I gulped down my soda. "What!? When did this happen!? Who told you?"
"Calm down! It's just a rumor. Apparently Rhonda heard it from Nadine who heard it from some friend of a friend of a friend," he said with a disinterested wave of his hand. "The point is, she moved on and so should you. You're an attractive enough guy, girls love you."
"I don't want the other girls," I retorted darkly. "I've felt this way since – since elementary school, it's got to mean something."
"Maybe it means you're just thinking with your penis and not your head- the one on top," he clarified, gesturing to Lila as she sat just out of earshot with her friends. "I'll admit, the air of innocence can be hard to resist, especially when she wears the things she does." I immediately was drawn to her short pleated skirt in a greenish plaid pattern. Her legs went on forever, and my stare would have to if Gerald hadn't punched me in the arm.
"Ouch!"
"My point exactly. Don't waste time with Helga when it won't do you much good."
"Speaking of Helga," I said in a hushed tone, running my fingers through my hair. "I think she may be- uh, she's got a lot of bruises," I finished lamely. I furrowed my brow, watching as Gerald's face contorted in one of understanding.
"You just can't help yourself, can you? Everyone knows Helga has a messed up home life, always has been. You can't fix everything."
"I don't want to fix everything, just her," I was saying, not taking in Gerald's warning look until it was too late. I latched onto my chair helplessly as it was ripped from the table with me still in it. Helga was glaring at me furiously.
"Get up."
"No, I'm alright."
"Get. Up."
"Yes ma'am," I squeaked as she took hold of my wrist and jerked me from the chair, leading me out into the hallway. She released me once we were out of earshot, acting as though just touching me burned her. She took a few deep breaths, looking like it was taking all her effort to not punch me or rip me apart.
"What part of 'stay of out of personal matters' did you not understand? Does it take longer from things to get through your football head, or are you just stupid?" she said in a carefully managed voice, clipping the ends of her words.
"I- no, Helga, I'm sorry. I'm just – I don't want you getting hurt," I explained feebly.
"So you think telling my personal matters to tall hair boy didn't hurt me?" she snapped, gesturing to herself. "You think that doesn't hurt?"
"I'm sorry, I just wanted to help," I replied lamely, rubbing my arm furiously. I dropped my gaze to the floor.
"No, you will look at me when I'm talking to you," Helga said firmly, grabbing my chin in her hands and jerking my face up enough so I had nowhere to look but her face. She may have been a tall girl, but I was still taller. "When I tell you something is personal, I expect you keep it out of your mouth. I don't need you to 'fix me'. I'm not broken, and I'm doing just fine with the things the way they are."
"I'm just-"
"Excuse me, you will wait until I'm done talking," she shushed me. "I agreed to help you, and I didn't tell anyone because I knew you wouldn't want me to. That is a simple part of being friends is that you know when and when not to keep your mouth shut. If you want me to keep helping you, then you better sort out which is which and keep anything with my name attached to it out of your mouth in mixed company. Are we clear?"
I nodded.
"I said are we clear?" she reiterated, staring me straight in the eyes.
"Yes, we're clear," I said in a gentle tone, gently removing her hand from my chin. "I'm sorry. You were right. I shouldn't have brought that up to someone without talking to you first. But you wouldn't even let me try this morning!"
"I was mad at you!" she said as it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't like to talk when I'm mad, but you left me no choice with your gossipy mouth. How much trouble can you cause in one day?"
"Apparently more than I originally thought," I said with a sheepish grin. "So we're still friends then?"
"What?"
"Friends. We can still be friends?" I asked hopefully.
"Uh, sure. Yeah. I guess we can still be friends," she muttered in quiet tone, dropping her gaze. "I've….I've got to go," she said as she pulled her hand free the grasp I hadn't realized I still had on her hand. I watched as she wrapped her arms around herself, walking down the hall with her head down. I exhaled as I watched her, still feeling all her words as though she had slapped me in my face. I'd have to make a bigger gesture of an apology. I wracked my brain for a moment, suddenly struck with inspiration.
I knew there was a bookstore a few blocks from the boarding house, though I never really went to it. I stared through the door a bit at the rows and rows of bookshelves and all the people milling about inside. I pushed open the door, not sure where to start. I started down the center aisle, reading the section headings. With a shrug, I figured I'd give the romance section a shot. It didn't take me long to realize that was not the best place to go, as most of the covers on display had women with their clothes practically falling off. I cringed, quickly shelving the book I pulled out. So maybe this was going to be a bit harder than I originally thought it might be. I had no idea what any of these books were about, and I didn't want to buy her a book as peace offering only to have it be filled with really graphic laugh scenes. I could only imagine her face as she puzzled out why I would give her a book full of things like that.
"Can I help you find something?" a friendly voice asked, and I turned to find a girl a few years older than I was eyeing me curiously. I sighed in relief.
"Actually, yes. I'm trying to find a gift for my friend. I sort of did something I shouldn't have. Anyway, she likes romance novels, poetry, and things like that. But I really didn't realize how expansive this section was," I explained, turning to see how far down the aisle went.
"Oh, sure! Maybe you give me some titles of her favorite books or something, we can find something similar to it. Maybe we should start there."
"Oh, yeah, okay," I replied optimistically, rummaging in my pocket for the crumpled list I had shoved in my pockets before leaving the boarding house. Luckily I'd written down a few of the titles when I was snooping. "I, well, here's a list of what's on her bookshelf."
She took the list without any questions, which I was grateful for, and gestured for me to follow her to the little service center in the middle of the store.
"So what'd you do?" she asked casually as she navigated the computer.
"Huh? Oh! I guess I shared something that was meant to be a secret. I didn't think it through," I said sheepishly, scuffing my foot on the floor.
"I see," she replied with a nod. "Oh, here we go! What about any of these?" she turned the monitor, bringing up a list of titles. It felt like I was trying to read Greek, I had no idea what any of the books were about, much less if she would like them.
"Maybe I should just get her a gift card," I groaned, closing my eyes. "I don't know what any of these books have in common."
"You can't buy a gift card!" the girl protested suddenly, eyes wide.
"What's wrong with a gift card?"
"If you're buying a gift as a peace offering, it needs to be personal. Something that looks like you took what she cares about into consideration. Gift cards are nice, but they mean one of two things." She held up two fingers. "One, that you know what she likes but don't' care to look for it, or two, that you don't pay enough attention to bother to know what she likes. Don't be one of those people."
"Okay, okay!" I surrendered, pursing my lips. Okay, think, what else could I get her? "Oh, ballet! Do you have anything on ballet?"
"I'll look!" she chirped, once more pulling up a list. "Oh, we've just got a new book on technique, or we have a few on specific dancers. We also have a few really nice photography books. Want to look at those?"
"That'd be great!" I said, relieved. I followed as she excited the counter and led me to a section of books on the wall. She pulled a couple of books from the shelf, holding them out to me. I flipped open the first one, but it wasn't anything like I thought she'd like. It was breaking the dancing down into technical terms, and she didn't seem one for technicalities. I handed it back, along with the biographies. I didn't know if she even had a favorite dancer. The next book was one of the photography books, and it was actually pretty interesting. I flipped through to find photos of all different styles, as well as different shows. I'd never seen a ballet show before, but these looked really neat. Each picture had a few captions underneath. "I think we'll go with this one," I decided, nodding my head in a resolute manner.
"Come one, I'll go check you out."
"Sounds good," I replied, weaving back through the shelves to the register. "Thanks for the help," I added with a smile as I rummaged in my pockets to hand over the cash. She smiled in returned, counting back my change to me.
"No problem. Hope things work out."
"Yeah, me too," I replied with a shrug. "Thanks again!" I took the bag from her, heading back out onto the sidewalk. There was a small candy store nearby as well, so I ducked in about bought a small bag of plain chocolates. Girls were supposed to universally like chocolates, right? Just in case the book didn't work, I wanted to make sure I had a back-up plan. The sun was starting to fade as I made my way to the nearby bus stop. I knew I had a vehicle, but I preferred to ride the bus when I could. It was a lot cheaper in the long run. Most of the seats were full by now, people getting off of work and so on. I took one of the few empty seats left, next to a girl who didn't look like she could be any older than ten. She didn't look at me as I sat down; she just scooted closer to the window, staring straight ahead. Her expression was very surly, her pants hanging well below her shoes. I knew how to recognize and a hand-me-down shirt when I saw one.
"I like your headband," I offered up, giving her a smile. Her expression softened a bit, but she didn't say anything. "It's unique." Her dark hair was held back from her face by a chunky headband, studded with multicolored stones and glitter.
"Thanks," she muttered. "I made it myself."
"It's really neat," I said sincerely, giving her a smile. I noted her glance over to the gifts I was holding in my lap.
"You like ballet?" she asked a bit shyly, looking up at me curiously.
"Huh? Oh, no, but a friend of mine does. This is a gift for her. Do you like ballet?"
She nodded. "I do, but everyone at school says I can't be a dancer because you have to be pretty."
"Well you're very pretty!"
"No I'm not," she huffed, kicking her foot against the seat in front of her angrily. "Everyone says so."
"Well everyone is wrong," I assured her. "My friend, when she was your age, I know a lot of people used to make fun of her about her looks. But I think she makes one of the prettiest dancers I've ever seen."
Her eyes widened as she listened. "Really? Is she your girlfriend?"
I laughed. That was just seeming to follow me everywhere. "No, she's not. But I can still think she's pretty, like you." I tore open the bag and handed her a piece of the chocolate. "This is my stop. I'm Arnold, by the way."
"Lucy. I can have this?"
"Yes,"I laughed, waving as the bus halted at the stop I usually boarded to get to school. I stepped off, making my way down the sidewalk in the direction of Helga's house. I was about to knock, not remembering if this one her nights of practice or not. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. I finally opted to pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling for Helga's number. I punched in, "I left something on your porch. -Arnold" , hitting send as I walked back down the sidewalk toward my house. That way she could look at the stuff without me hovering over her shoulder, and she could thank me when she was reading. I think by this point, I wouldn't even need my class on lesson two.