"Arnold, I didn't know you were so studious." Phoebe didn't look up from her book as Arnold pulled out a chair from across the table.
"Well, I'm not really." He leaned an elbow on the table conspiratorially and got down to business. "I kind of wanted to ask a favor."
"From me?" Phoebe glanced up briefly, surprised.
"Um, yeah." He cast his eyes towards the bookshelves.
"Does this, perchance, have anything to do with a certain… lady we share a mutual acquaintance with?" Phoebe spoke slowly, pretending highest interest in the quantum formulas scattered over the page.
"How'd you know?" Arnold gave her a straight-faced look.
"Lucky guess? I'd hate to sound arrogant, but you know I'm pretty smart, right?" She grinned a tiny Phoebe-grin at her joke. He could see why Gerald thought she was cute.
Arnold laughed a tiny laugh and turned a page of the history book he'd randomly pulled out of his bag. "Could you meet me after school at Slausen's? I'd prefer it if we weren't overheard."
"Sure. I'll meet you at 3:30."
Do you see the oak sway with the gale?
It bends and twists and moans but does not break
O Tree, thy branches whisper to the wind
The secret talk of youth and age, youth and age
The late afternoon sun slid through the diner window and sparkled off the napkin dispenser. Arnold played with his spoon, feeling slightly awkward—he and Phoebe didn't spend too much one on one time together. He was used to Gerald's scrutiny, but Phoebe was on an entirely different level—he had to be careful, but he had to trust her.
"So. What kind of Helga-themed favor is so terrible that you've resorted to going through me?" Phoebe sipped her vanilla milkshake politely.
The brass bell tied to the door rang shrilly and Sheena and Eugene appeared. Arnold flinched and whispered quickly, "Can we not say her name out loud? I don't want…" He leaned to his right and made sure their friends weren't looking their way.
Phoebe's face was inscrutable. "Oh, I see… perhaps you'd like to use a code word instead?"
"Sure, that's a great idea!" Arnold brightened. "What's a good one?"
"Hm… well, I don't know," she pondered, tapping her chin. "How about… milkshake?"
Arnold considered it, remembering a particular April Fools' Day where Helga made him buy two at the very counter Eugene and Sheena were leaning on.
"Perfect."
Arnold traced the patterns on the worn table cloth, completely missing the spasm of pained composure that flitted across Phoebe's face. When he looked up again, she nodded calmly, expectant.
"Okay, so it's a long story…"
"Don't worry. I'm used to long stories." Phoebe shrugged. "It's one of the joys of being friends with… milkshakes."
Arnold looked down at the table again. Phoebe was smart. He relaxed a little and began to tell her about the music and his thoughts, more or less, about the whole predicament, careful to omit the part involving his bizarre run-in with "Milkshake" in the Coco Hut. Phoebe seemed understanding and almost clinical about the whole thing, except for a few strange coughing fits and once almost knocking over her milkshake.
At the end, Arnold sighed. "Please don't tell Gerald."
Phoebe phrased her words carefully, "You mean to tell me that Gerald doesn't already know?"
"Not… exactly. I don't think so." He sat up straighter. "Has he said anything to you?"
"Not exactly," she mirrored his speech.
Arnold frowned in thought.
"Believe me. The milkshake, while a… an intelligent beverage, is a little denser than it likes to let on." Phoebe's eyes sparkled as she took another sip. "There is no danger of her knowing what you want her to know before you're ready to tell her yourself."
The relief slid off his face as soon as it appeared. "That's exactly it, though. I don't know how to tell her."
"Ah, now I see the reason for your favor."
"Well… I do kind of have an idea." He slowly stirred the remainder of his chocolate shake with his straw.
A short while later, Arnold and Phoebe emerged from Slausen's, satisfied with their plan.
"You're sure this will work?"
"Oh, Arnold, I think it's a fantastic idea!"
"Well, if anybody, you would know." He shook her hand, weirdly formally, but with Phoebe it seemed like the thing to do.
"See you at our agreed-upon time!"
"Bye, Phoebe!"