Author's Note: Wow, this chapter ended up being really long! I think I have an idea about how I want this whole thing to end, but I'm open to any and all suggestions. Unfortunately, my goal of this whole fic being finished by Christmas probably won't be a reality. But I'll try to have chapter five up ASAP.
Personal Inscriptions:
Dark Lady of the Sith: Thanks! I wish men like Alex could be locked away forever….
apie: Yes, Chapter Three was terribly sad….
Hellerick Ferlibay: Things are really looking down right now…don't worry, happier times are ahead! And no, Monster is not forgotten. As for Lila/Helga interaction…hm….you actually gave me an idea for that, which I may or may not use. We'll see. Thanks, though!
acosta perez jose romiro: Right on about Lila, that's exactly what I was going for. And yes, I think Arnold did remember a bit of karate, which is why he delivered such a smooth punch to Alex's face.
xo Just Another Suicide xo: Yeah, Helga kicks butt! No way was she going to let Alex try to rape her without a fight!
maggie-mags: Thank you!
LateOrliBloomer: Wow….thanks for the long review! I'm sorry ffn kept kicking you off….Yeah, maybe Lila's story is a little too sob storyish. A dead mother and a cocaine addicted father? Geez! But it makes her seem more real, I think. Gerald's behavior is weird, I agree, but there's a reason he's afraid to talk to Phoebe, which will be explained later. And….geez, did I make Arnold's reason for turning away from Lila's kiss that obvious? Well, actually, there's a bit more behind the reason than you might think. Or not. Maybe everyone has it figure out already. Yeah, Lila is naughty for almost cheating on her bf, but….she's not perfect! The title of the story comes in here once again, and it's really the resounding theme. Yeah, Alex's crime might be hard to believe, but it does happen.
I'm Not Perfect
Chapter Four
Arnold slowly traced a circle design with his finger on the arm on the plastic chair. "And…then the guy ran away," he concluded his story, looking up at the uniformed policewoman.
She nodded, scribbling on her notepad. "And you're sure," she turned to Phoebe, "that this was the same man your friend introduced you to earlier? Alex Builtoo?"
Phoebe nodded. "Positive. The black curly hair was trademark. I recognized him immediately."
Arnold stretched his arms and looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight, and he was exhausted. He, Phoebe, her parents, and his grandparents had been at the police station for over an hour.
Pookie reached over to pat her grandson's shoulder. "Why, Slim, I'd say you look mighty tired."
Phil crossed his arms as he looked at the policewoman. "So, how much longer are you going to keep us here? Some of us older folks should've been in bed hours ago."
For the first time, a smile crossed Officer Pat's face. She clicked her pen and stood up. "I have all the information I need, so you're free to go. We have eyewitness reports now, so we can start filing a charge with the District Attorney. Alex should be put under arrest sometime tonight, assuming he hasn't taken off somewhere."
Arnold sighed with relief. He would be so glad when this whole night was over with. He shuddered to think what might've happened if he and Phoebe hadn't come along in time.
"Thank you for your help." Officer Pat shook each one of their hands in turn as they filed out of her tiny office. "It's incidents like these they remind me why I chose a career in law enforcement."
"That boy." Mrs. Heyerdahl gave a small sigh as they walked out to the parking lot. "I can't imagine why he would do somethin' like that…"
Arnold swallowed the lump rising in his throat. He thought of Helga, his friend, who had been taken away from his boarding house in an ambulance. It was all his fault. After all, it was his party. He should've been more selective with the guests…he should've paid more attention to everyone, especially Helga. If someone had been with her, if someone had gone to his room with her, this never would've happened…
It wouldn't occur to him, until after all future events had taken place, to speculate why she had gone to his room in the first place.
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"Good news." The doctor took a seat in the swivel chair next to Helga's hospital bed. "We had a technician look at the x-rays, and your nose isn't broken."
"Great," she whispered-it was still hard to talk-"one less splinter in the pile of wood." She rolled her eyes. She had been in the stupid hospital, getting x-rays done, getting examined, getting tests run, for the past three hours. The worst part so far had been the stitches in her lip. The stitches themselves weren't that bad, but beforehand the doctor had had to inject a vial of Novocain into her split lip, which hurt like all Criminy's angels. For about the hundredth time that night, she cursed Alex. Tie him up, give her a stick, and she'd have some fun. "Can I go home now?"
The doctor frowned. "I'm concerned about that breathing. I wrote you a prescription for an oral steroid to help keep your airway open until your throat heals. You need to take it every day for the next month, and don't forget. The last thing we want is for your airway to swell shut."
"Could that happen?" Miriam, who had been sitting next to Helga's bed along with Bob, suddenly stood up. "What if, I mean, what do we do if that happens?"
"This drug should prevent it from happening. But if she experiences extreme difficulty breathing, bring her in right away. Otherwise, she can go home now. Just take it easy, young lady, all right?"
"I suppose this is going to cost me a bundle." Big Bob groaned. "If I ever get my hands on that kid…" Then, his expression softened. He looked at his daughter lying on the hospital bed and asked gently, "You sure you're feeling well enough to go home….Helga?"
"I'm fine, dad, really." Helga stood up. She was still woozy and very sore, even though they had given her something for pain.
The car ride home and getting into bed was a blur. She felt distanced from everything else. Her sleep was restless and punctuated by nightmares of a tall man with curly black hair trying to rape her. Sometime during the night, Monster came out from under her bed and climbed up next to her. He curled next to the sleeping teenager, trying to provide her with some comfort. She awakened shortly after one a.m. with a churning stomach, and reached the bathroom just in time to spill the contents of any food she'd eaten at Arnold's party. Whether it was her injuries, or her nightmares, or the sheer trauma of what she'd been through, she didn't know, but for some reason her stomach continued to rebel throughout the night. The fourth time, she was rinsing out her mouth at the sink when a knock came at the bathroom door. Miriam was standing in the hallway, looking concerned.
"Dear, are you sick?"
Helga sighed. She was too weak and sick to fire off a sharp retort. "Yeah, mom."
Miriam reached over and gently stroked her daughter's back. "Oh, honey….you know what might help? I could make you some tea with honey. That always settles my stomach."
Helga forced a weak smile. "Yeah, okay…thanks."
Monster curiously poked his head out of Helga's room and watched as the Pataki mother and daughter headed downstairs. He slithered out the doorway and followed them to the kitchen. Helga reached over and scratched his chin. Miriam flicked on the light, and the dark kitchen was suddenly visible. With a small groan, Helga collapsed into a kitchen chair. She still ached so much that even a trip down the stairs took a lot of her.
"Let's see…nutmeg, cinnamon…where did I put that honey? Oh, darn. Well, I'm sure I bought it…" Miriam shook her head. "Is sugar all right instead, dear?"
"Fine." Helga wasn't sure she'd even be able to stomach it. But her mom was being so kind to her, so….motherly, that Helga thought it best to just sit back and let Miriam take care of her. What a strange picture, she thought. Miriam making tea for her at 3 a.m. She was even doing it the old-fashioned way, putting tea leaves into a kettle with water and letting it boil on the stove. It was something that, until a couple of years ago, would never have happened.
"There you go," Miriam smiled at her youngest daughter as she placed two large ceramic mugs on the table. Helga flashed a small smile of thank you. Miriam winced upon looking at her daughter's swollen and bruised face.
"I didn't even know that you knew how to make tea the old-fashioned way," Helga said. Miriam could still hear the way she drew in a breath before every syllable. Was Helga still having trouble breathing? God above, what would she do if her daughter's airway closed? How could any boy be so cruel as to attack her daughter the way he did?
"Well," Miriam smiled, trying to keep her mind off her fears. "My mother and I used to run a tea house together, so I have a lot of experience with this."
Helga looked confused. "A tea house?"
"Yeah, you know, like a coffee house, only we mainly served tea. We thought our original idea would attract more customers." Miriam shrugged. "I had just graduated from high school when Mama had this idea to start a business. We knew a lot of people from around the area drank morning tea instead of coffee, so we thought our idea would sell."
"Wow! I didn't know that!"
Miriam smiled. She and her daughter were getting to know more and more about each other every day, which she liked. She had never been as close to Helga as her older daughter, but she was hoping one day that would change.
Helga placed her mug to her lips and took a small sip. "So, tell me more about this tea house, Mom."
The two blonde heads bent in a conversation late into the hours of the morning. Monster curled up between mother and daughter, and fell asleep to the murmur of their voices. A rare bonding moment enfolded between them, and Helga wasn't sick once afterwards.
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"Hey, man." Gerald greeted Arnold on Monday morning. He noticed the dark circles under his friend's eyes. "Rough weekend?"
Arnold shrugged. "I didn't do much but sleep."
Gerald chuckled as they made their way to his locker. "Sure doesn't look like it." His expression softened. "You still trippin' over what happened Friday night?" Arnold had explained the entire incident via phone to Gerald on Saturday. He was the only outside party that actually knew what happened. Grandpa had shooed all of the remaining party guests home shortly before the ambulance arrived for Helga. As far as Arnold knew, no one else knew a thing.
He was soon proved wrong.
"Hey Arnold!" Iggy approached Gerald's locker. "What happened at your party Friday? There's a big rumor going around that Alex Builtoo is in jail for beating up Helga Pataki at your party."
Arnold winced. Apparently he had underestimated the power of the high school gossip mill. "Uh, yeah….sort of. I really don't think I should talk about it." He had learned from experience that when it came to rumors, the best thing to do was just keep his mouth shut. Especially in this situation, out of respect for Helga.
"Arnold!" A high pitched voice came from behind him, and he turned to see Mandy and Christina. "Why is your friend Helga saying all these mean things about Alex? There's a charge against him for, like, trying to rape her or something. As if!"
Arnold sighed. "She's not lying. I really don't want to talk about it, Mandy."
She frowned at him. "I'm Christina!"
He rubbed his forehead. This was giving him a headache. "Sorry."
"Come on, man, let's go." Gerald took his elbow and guided him through the small crowd that had now formed around his locker. "See you ladies later."
"Man, Gerald, how do you think people found out about this?" Arnold sighed.
"Who knows? Things spread fast around here. Don't worry, though. I'm sure it will all blow over, eventually."
Arnold slowly nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I just hope Helga doesn't get harassed like this."
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Helga stared at her reflection in the heart shaped mirror in her locker. The bruises on her face and throat were barely visible. Her mom had done a pretty good job this morning with the concealer. Helga wouldn't have had a clue how to do it herself-she rarely wore makeup. The only thing that couldn't be covered was the stitches in her lip, but she could always tell people she'd fallen down or something. No way would she admit to people that some jerk had beaten her up.
With a smile, she recounted the weekend in her head. Despite the pain she'd been in, the past few days actually hadn't been bad at all. Her parents had been unusually nice to her. Big Bob had even let her have free reign of the TV. And her mom had barely left her side all weekend, summoning to her daughter's every beck and call. She had even insisted on driving Helga to school this morning, worrying that the bumpy bus ride might not be good for her injuries. It was nice. It probably wouldn't last, but that was all the more reason to enjoy every second.
She grabbed her biology book from the top of her locker. She had her binder, her folder, her pen…she dug around in her pocket for a pencil.
"Criminy…." She rooted through her locker. She had a biology test that was on a scantron, so she needed a pencil. A search through her locker produced no results. True, she probably wouldn't pass the test to begin with, but she didn't exactly want to take a zero for lack of a pencil.
She turned to Selena, a girl with curly red hair who had the locker next to hers. "Hey, Selena, could I borrow a pencil?"
Slam! The locker door closed and Selena walked down the hall, ignoring Helga and her request.
Helga shrugged and closed her locker. PMS? She would never figure out girls. Phoebe was an exception. Most "regular" girls were weird, which was why she preferred the company of guys.
She noticed Rhonda combing her hair at her locker. "Hey, Rhondaloid, got a pencil?" she asked as she approached the designer clad girl.
Rhonda jumped. She quickly shoved her comb into her locker and slammed it shut. "I…uh…" She looked around, then whispered, "Nothing personal, but don't talk to me, okay?"
Helga narrowed her eyes. "What?" But Rhonda had already made a steady retreat down the corridor.
Geez. The two of them were never exactly friends, but Rhonda would usually at least talk to her. Apparently she had decided that Helga was too "uncool" to talk to. Or something.
She looked around and headed over to the water fountain, where Sid was getting a drink. "Yo, Sid," she said, approaching him.
He jerked his head up, splaying water everywhere. "Helga! Boy Howdy…uh…I have to go…" He bolted in the other direction.
Okay, that was weird. What was wrong with everybody today? It was almost like…they were avoiding her. But maybe she was just paranoid. Helga changed directions and walked down the West Hall, where she knew Phoebe's locker was.
Was it her imagination, or did she hear people whispering all around her? And they were staring at her. Well, she did have stitches in her lip. And maybe the makeup didn't do as good of a job covering her bruises as she thought. But since when did the kids at her school start whispering about and avoiding people with stitches?
Luckily, Phoebe was at her locker. Maybe she'd have some idea of what was going on. "Hey, Pheebs…"
"Helga!" Her best friend jumped, sending papers flying everywhere. She quickly recovered and started gathering up the papers. "I mean…um…how are you? Are you feeling better?"
Helga ignored her question. "Okay, something's going on. I know it. What the heck is wrong with everyone? What did I do?"
Phoebe lowered her head. She knew she would have to tell Helga eventually, but it hurt. Her best friend did not deserve this, especially after everything she had been through. She stood up and took Helga's arm gently. "There's…well…I'm not quite sure how to say this, but somehow everyone knows what happened on Friday night. And…well….I've heard them talking. For some strange reason, they're…they're holding you accountable for what happened."
Helga stood, shocked, silent.
Phoebe sighed. "In the social standing perspective, it shouldn't be that strange. Alex Builtoo is a popular, athletic senior with many friends. And…"
"I'm not," Helga said flatly.
"Precisely. They…well, not everyone, but I would say most, are upset at you for accusing Alex of….such a crime. They seem to think you're lying, or that you asked for it."
She flew into a rage. "Asked for it! For Criminy's sake, did I ask for these stitches? That stupid jerk almost strangled me to death! Did I ask for that? Criminy…." She slumped against the wall, putting her head in her hands.
Phoebe knelt next to her. "I know," she said gently, reaching out to stroke her shoulder. "But, remember, this is high school. Most rumors like this subside. Eventually. In the meantime, I can try to set everyone straight if you want. I don't know if they'll believe me, though." She paused, and added softly, "I don't think they'll want to believe me…."
Helga raised her head from her hands. "Thanks for telling me, Pheebs."
The bell caused both of them to jump. They realized that the hallway was empty. Helga quickly stood up. "Sorry, Pheebs. Now you'll be late for class…"
She smiled. "I suppose one detention won't mar my otherwise perfect attendance record." Her face became serious. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"
She breathed out. "Yeah." She knew she was strong. She'd be all right. Who cared what the other stupid kids were saying about her? She only cared about the opinions of two people, and they both knew what really happened.
It was harder than she imagined, though. Throughout the day, she was vividly aware that she was being talked about. Over and over, she heard her name whispered-in class, in the hallway, even in the bathroom. Most people refused to talk to her. Even with those that did talk to her, like Sheena and Nadine, it was obvious that they were uncomfortable.
By fifth period, she was exhausted, not only from the social torture, but her face was starting to hurt again. Weren't her pain pills supposed to last twelve hours? Criminy. At least fifth period-lunch-wouldn't wear her out too much. And her mom had actually packed her lunch this morning, so she wouldn't have to stand in line for ten minutes with a growling stomach. Only it wasn't exactly growling today. In fact, she felt quite sick. She felt the burning, accusing eyes of her fellow peers on her back as she made her way across the lunchroom. Phoebe had saved her a seat at a sparsely crowded table. As soon as Helga set her brown paper bag down on the table, the four girls that had been sitting at the table stood up, gathered their things, and left. Three of them avoided looking at her, but one of them glared at Helga and whispered, "Bitch."
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Arnold watched sadly from the lunch line as four girls across the cafeteria stood up and left their table as soon as Helga approached. He could only imagine what kind of treatment she had been receiving all day. He had heard the whispered rumors, and it was obvious that most of his classmates blamed Helga for what had happened. It made him furious, but he kept his thoughts to himself. No doubt anything he said would only add fuel to the fire.
Across the room, he watched as one of the girls turned and said something to Helga. Some kind of insult, probably. He watched as Helga's fists clenched, and he could practically hear the gears in her mind whirring as she contemplated whether she should beat this girl to a pulp, or just let it go. Ultimately, for whatever reason, she decided on the latter and sat down next to Phoebe.
He should go and talk to her, see how she was feeling. Let her know that she wasn't alone. Maybe he should even sit with them today. He didn't particularly want to sit at the "popular" table today, especially with all the things most of them were saying about Helga.
Arnold paid the cashier and headed toward the table. "Hi," he greeted the two girls as he set his tray down on the table.
Helga's eyes widened. Was he going to sit with them today? She took a breath. Be nice, she reminded herself. On top of everything else, he had saved her last Friday. He had also given her attacker a good thump across the face. She smiled a little at the look on Alex's face after he had gotten a taste of his own medicine. "Hi….Arnold," she said.
"Good afternoon, Arnold," Phoebe smiled and scooted her chair over a little so he could sit down.
"I wanted to see if you were feeling any better today," Arnold said to Helga. He hesitated. "I know that your day probably hasn't been the easiest."
Helga stabbed her fork into Miriam's homemade salad. "Oh, what do I care what a bunch of stupid kids say about me? So what if everyone thinks I'm some kind of lying whore?" The spite in her voice was obvious.
Arnold sighed. "It's ridiculous. But, Phoebe and I both know what happened. And Gerald believes you, too. And lots of other kids do, I'm sure. They just don't have the guts to talk to you right now."
"Fear of being shunned from association is probably high right now," Phoebe added. "However, I'm confident that won't last.'
Helga knew that they were probably both right. Still, she wasn't looking forward to the next few days.
"Hey Arnold!" Gerald appeared next to their table. "Man, I've been looking everywhere for you. Come on. Aren't you going to sit with us today?"
Arnold shook his head. "Sorry, Gerald, I think I'm staying here." He smiled. "Why don't you sit with us?"
"You're welcome to, Gerald." Phoebe leaned over, sparkling like the lights on a million Christmas trees.
He shuffled his foot. "I would, but uh…Arnold…there's something we need to talk about with the people over there." He jabbed his thumb toward the direction of the popular table.
Arnold was confused. "Who?"
"All our friends. Mandy and Christina. You know, homecoming plans?"
Arnold heaved a big sigh. "Right. Who am I going with again?"
"You're going with Christina, I'm going with Mandy," Gerald reminded him. "Now, come on!"
"All right, all right." Arnold stood. "Sorry, guys," he apologized to Helga and Phoebe. "I'll catch you later."
"Arnold," Helga muttered as soon as the two boys were out of earshot. "What an airhead. What a buffoon. Taking a stupid, shallow, giggly "popular" girl as his date to the dance."
"I must admit, it surprises me," Phoebe agreed. "I never imagined Arnold and Christina together."
"Uh…Phoebe, could you get me some napkins?"
"Sure, Helga," Phoebe replied. As soon as she was gone, Helga ducked under the table and pulled out her locket.
"Oh, Arnold! Where is the non-conformist soul I have grown to know and love? How could you possibly chose one of those girls? And yet….how I wish I were one of them. How I wish I were beautiful and polished and always knew the right lines to deliver…so that your affections might be bestowed upon me instead. Alas, now I must face the pain of knowing that you are going to be in her arms that night instead of mine as I have dreamed."
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When Arnold approached the popular table with Gerald, everyone was engrossed in something that Justin was saying.
"Yeah, they arrested Alex Friday night," he said. "He was in for a day before he was eligible for bail. He's out of jail now, but he's not allowed to come back to school until after his trial in three weeks."
Arnold's eyes bulged. Alex would be out of jail for three weeks while he waited for his trial? That was insane! What if he tried to rape other girls?
"Alex told me that his lawyer thinks he can plea bargain for a lesser charge," Justin continued. "That would probably be easier than going through all the shit of a trial. Alex's lawyer doesn't know what the chances are that he would be found "not guilty" if he went through a trial, so he thinks it's best not to risk it." Justin shook his head. "The District Attorney is still thinking of charging Alex with attempted murder because he supposedly almost choked that girl to death. It's a crock."
Arnold could keep silent no longer. "I saw what he did to Helga," Arnold interrupted. "She had bruises all over her neck."
Justin glared at him. "That doesn't mean anything. I saw her today. If she came to school, he couldn't have hurt her that bad. And now she says he tried to rape her? Give me a break!"
"Justin," Lila said quietly, putting her hand on his arm. "Maybe we should talk about something else."
"He was taking off her clothes when Phoebe and I found them." Arnold struggled to keep calm. "He was on top of her. What do you think that means, Justin?"
"She asked for it. All the girls want Alex."
Arnold clenched his teeth. "Her face was covered in blood."
Justin smirked. "What can I say? Some people just like it rough."
Arnold closed his eyes, fighting the red hot rage that was building inside of him. Slowly he took in a breath. If one of his good friends was accused of raping a girl, he would probably deny it too. Justin hadn't seen what he had. He didn't know Helga. It would be easy for him to jump to conclusions. Apparently, he thought bitterly, it was easy for everyone else too.
"Justin," Lila pleaded, pulling at his shirtsleeve, "can we please change the subject?"
"Right!" Rhonda exclaimed. "Hooomecoming plans," she sang as she held up a notebook. "We'll all be going in a group together. Now, let me make sure I have all the couples right on my list. Justin, you'll be going with Lila, of course. Gerald and Mandy, Christina and Arnold, Iggy and Katrinka, me and Justin's older brother Mark…"
Arnold took some deep breaths and concentrated on his food, trying to cool off his anger. He noticed as Rhonda read her list, however, that one person seemed to be missing.
"Hey, isn't Nadine coming with us?" he asked.
He heard a few snickers. Mandy stared at him. "Nadine?" she said. "Like, you're kidding, right?"
Rhonda looked around, her cheeks burning. "Um…don't be silly, Arnold. Now…"
"But Nadine's your best friend!" Arnold persisted.
Rhonda blew out a sigh. "She was my best friend. But lately we've just sort of…you could say…grown apart."
You mean, you've decided she's not cool enough for you. Arnold narrowed his eyes. Why did he put up with this? He should do something. Take a stand. Confront Rhonda's shallowness, and all the other kids who wouldn't talk to Helga now just because they were worried about their reputations being ruined…
But, suddenly, his mind blurred. He was just so tired, so, so tired of it all. He picked at his food listlessly and let the conversations drift over him.
Suddenly, a snippet of the conversation caught his attention. "October fifth will be, like, the best day ever!"
The dance was on October fifth? Why hadn't he realized this earlier? A string of expletives crossed his mind. Angrily he pushed his food aside. He felt sick, and so tired. He dropped his football shaped head down on the cafeteria table and didn't move until the bell rang.