Face on the wall says

Time to go. Bells sound

And we emerge drowsed

Into the fading daylight

Where the wild truths romp free

"Come on Pheebs!" Helga crumpled a candy bar wrapper and tossed it over her shoulder. The corner of Phoebe's room was littered with an increasingly growing pile. "You've been hiding where you've been going for weeks. Can't you just tell me what's going on?"

"Trust me, Helga, all will be revealed soon. And don't tell me you don't know where I've been going. I know your ways." Phoebe didn't look up from her desk, but Helga knew she was frowning.

Helga casually turned a page of her magazine. The backpack next to her still had all its textbooks inside, neglected. "Geraldo suspects you guys are planning a surprise birthday party for him. Why won't you let me help?"

Wheedling was not Helga's strong suit. Phoebe was on lockdown. "I thought you hated event planning."

"I've changed my mind." Long arms stretched lazily in the air. "I'm in a helpful mood."

"Sorry, but no." Phoebe cleaned her glasses on her sweater. "And I know that's not what Gerald said."

"Oh really? And how is that possible.…" Helga clapped a head to her forehead. "I get it. You—and Gerald—"

Phoebe's book slipped off her desk, but she wasn't quick enough to catch it. There was a big thud as it crashed to the floor. "It's not what you think!"

Helga leapt to her feet. "Oh, it is what I think! I can't believe you, Phoebe. How long?!"

Phoebe crouched, checking that her book was unhurt. She climbed back into her chair and set it gently back on the desk. "I-I don't know what you're talking about." She hurriedly searched for her page.

"Don't play dumb." Helga crossed her arms and looked with utmost scrutiny at Phoebe, who shrank backwards, pulling her knees up to her chest. "You two are canoodling and you know it!"

"Fine, if it makes you happy, sure!" It was Phoebe's last parry.

"Admit it!"

Phoebe sighed and removed her glasses again to rub her nose. "I admit it. We're dating, okay?"

"First you start disappearing on Friday nights. Well I guess that mystery is solved. Now you're disappearing in the afternoons. Why are you keeping all this from me?" Helga paced, oblivious to the frustration gradually filling Phoebe's face.

"Because—because…."

"Man oh man, have you kissed him?!"

Color rose to Phoebe's cheeks in splotches. "Hey, that's personal!"

"I'm your best friend! Best friends share junk like that with each other!"

"Share! Share?" It was Phoebe's turn to go on the offensive. "Excuse me, Helga, but you've had at least two kisses that I've hardly even heard a whisper from you about—two well-publicized ones anyway—and—" Phoebe growled in frustration at her visibly affronted friend and slammed her book. "I don't know why I bother. And we didn't want to make it awkward, okay?"

The room grew tense. "Oh, 'we' didn't? And why, may I ask, would it be awkward?"

Phoebe folded her hands in her lap, twiddling her thumbs. "Because, well… you know how it is with you and… Ice Cream."

"And how is it, exactly?" This was treacherous territory.

"It's fine. Absolutely fine. Forget I said anything."

The blond girl seemed like she was holding in a torrent of fury. "What are you planning!?"

"Nothing!"

"Tell me!"

"Helga. Just… wait until Saturday. Please?" Phoebe clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Ah. So it's at the Coco Hut…" Her voice was steely.

"Yes, and don't ask me anything else! No more hints. That's final, and I mean it!" Phoebe crossed her arms insistently and turned her head to look out the window.

Helga flung her backpack over her shoulder. Wrappers swirled in the wake of the slamming door.