Author's Note: After many frustrating nights sitting at the computer, unable to find the write words, after many Sunday nights being able to sneak in a single paragraph, after many times of me saying, "I really should work on my fanfic…", this chapter is finally finished and posted for your enjoyment. I know it's shorter than the others, but where I ended it seemed like a good place to.
Personal Inscriptions:
Hellerick Ferlibay: Oh, no! Did I make this chapter too predicatable? I was going for foreshadowing, but I guess I overdid it a bit. There's still a lot of suspense, though, I think. I'm glad to hear you liked Hilda, putting her in as a little guider in Helga's life seemed like a good idea.
acosta perez jose ramiro: Haha yes, you're right! Thank you!
Everyone else read this too, it's importantAmanda: You're exactly right, I was waiting for someone to point this out. Basically, at the beginning of the story, Arnold doesn't know Justin all that well. He knows him more "by proxy"-he is a friend of a friend. He judges Justin to be "the perfect boyfriend" from the little he knows about him, but Justin's true character quickly shows through. You can see this even before the whole rape incident-Justin doesn't want to talk about Lila's problems, he abandons her at the party to go talk to some friends, despite the fact that she is clearly upset, etc. So it wasn't a 180 in his character-his true character was just revealed gradually.
Zappanale: Thank you; that's a really good thing to know.
desired-hanyou-aly: You'll see.
Hurricos: I know, I know….shakes head
Semi-Crazywithalittle weirdness: Thanks!
Dark Lady of the Sith: Unfortunately, you're right.
MadamFortressMama: Thank you!
xBakura's lovex: But, you see, the cliffhanger keeps you coming back for more!
DXM Junkie: Haha thanks, and you'll see.
I'm Not Perfect
Chapter 8
He's touching my shoulder, Helga realized as she slowly turned around. The warmth from his hand spread from her shoulder to the rest of her body. She was bathed in a white glow that she could probably not describe even in her poetry. Pure bliss.
Struggling to keep her wits about her, she said, as politely as possible, "Yes?"
Arnold dropped his eyes to the cracked sidewalk. "I want to ask you something."
"Uh, okay, Arnold, shoot." She smiled.
"Is it...I mean...do you want to do this?" Noticing the confusion on her face, he added, "Go to the dance, I mean. Because we don't have to. I mean, I don't want you to feel like you're being forced into anything. You don't have to do this out of gratitude to me. I just wanted you to have a good time tonight. But if you're uncomfortable with this-with us-I can understand."
She blinked. Oh, Arnold, my love, you fool, how can you be so naive? Can't you see what's right in front of you?
She had to admit, though, that she wasn't sending interpreter-friendly signals. She hadn't even thanked him when he opened the door for her. The truth was, she had stomped away so that he wouldn't see the idiotic grin on her face. She was living her dream, but how could Arnold possibly know that?
"Well, I mean, of course I want to do this. We're already dressed and everything and...well, criminy, why would I turn back now?"
"I know," he rubbed his arm, "but I'm feeling kind of bad. I kind of feel like I forced you into this, and I know that events like these really aren't your thing..."
He was so sweet, always concerned about the feelings of others...Inwardly she sighed. But criminy! What did she have to do to convince him that she really did want to go?
"Arnold, look," she dared to take his arm, "I'm here, you're here, so let's just go! Who cares if it's lame? At the very least we can make fun of all those "popular" kids who are at each other's throats trying to become "King" and "Queen"," she smirked.
To her relief, he smiled. "Yeah...okay. Let's go."
They walked a few feet to the Packard. Helga nearly swooned as Arnold opened the passenger side door for her. She climbed in next to Arnold's grandpa, who had fallen asleep in the parked car. He startled awake as the two teenagers climbed into the car.
"Ahhh...well, don't you look nice, young lady," he smiled at her.
Not used to compliments, she felt a little uncomfortable. "Thanks," she said curtly, fastening her seatbelt.
"Doesn't she look nice, short man?" Phil winked at Arnold in the rearview mirror.
Arnold smiled. "Yeah, she does."
Grandpa started up the Packard and drove away from Helga's house. "Aren't you two just adorable together! I remember my first school dance...the year was 1934. I was so nervous, hehe, my stomach felt like a bowl of split pea soup! My date was looking quite charming in her feed sack dress...that was the fashion back then..."
Grandpa's story took up the three mile drive. When they pulled up to the high school, the parking lot was jammed with cars, and the entrance of the school was filled with parents dropping their kids off. The dance was being held in the gym. In front of the gym, there was a table were students paid for their tickets. Currently, the line extended out to the street.
Helga's eyes widened. "Criminy...what a mess."
"Grandpa, you can just drop us off here," Arnold assured him. The Packard screeched to a halt, and the two teenagers climbed out.
Grandpa said to them, "Have fun, kids, stay safe, and remember..."
"Never eat raspberries," Arnold finished his sentence. His Grandpa burst into laughter as he drove away.
Arnold couldn't resist a small chuckle himself. The look on Helga's face was one of total bewilderment. "Um...my grandpa is...quite a character," he offered the best possible explanation.
She turned to him, half of her eyebrow raised. "That story wasn't true, was it? The part about him saving the school dance from an evil clown with telekinesis powers?"
Arnold rolled his eyes. "I think he's been watching one too many horror movies lately." He shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked a rock off the sidewalk. He stared across the street, toward the west and away from the school, where there was an open field, one of the few left in the whole city. Hillwood High School was on the outskirts of the city, on top of a hill, away from most of the bustle. The open field belonged to a company who claimed that they would soon build a chemical plant there, but it hadn't happened yet.
In the meantime, the open field gave a clear view of the setting sun. The orange-pink ball had already sunk halfway across the horizon. Multicolored strips of light reached their way into the depths of the dim sky, as if saying their final goodbye for the night.
How romantic, Helga thought with a silent sigh. Turning toward her love, she said nonchalantly, "Pretty cool, huh?"
He smiled at her. "Yeah. It's beautiful." After a few seconds, "I wish that we had known about this field when we were kids. It would've been perfect for playing tag, or flying a kite. The park was always too crowded, and the playground at school closed at five o clock. We used to sometimes have to play in the street, remember?"
"Yeah." She rolled her eyes. "We almost got ourselves run over a few times playing baseball until we found Gerald Field. It was too small to play tag or fly a kite, but it worked for baseball or football games."
He nodded, then hesitated. "I sometimes wish things could be like that again. Back when we all played together. Why'd we stop, anyway?"
She shrugged. "A few people stopped coming...and then a few more...and a few more...I don't know. I only stopped coming because there was hardly anyone there anymore."
"Me too. I guess other people stopped coming, because, well, junior high came, and we had more schoolwork, and more obligations..."
Helga stared at him. "Get real, Arnold. I'll tell you what happened. Friendships got complicated. There were boundaries. Boundaries that weren't there, or at least not as pronounced, when we were in fourth grade. There were cliques. We didn't play together anymore because there was an unwritten rule-still is-that we have to stay in our own little groups."
He sighed, knowing she was right. "I just...I hate it. I always have. I don't understand why we can't all get along and be friends."
"Because that's not the way the world works." Helga glanced at him, then added with a smile, "But I think you definitely broke some boundaries on Thursday, Football Head. I have to give it to you, that took guts."
He grinned at her. "Yeah." I did it for you, he didn't add. But she knew that. Didn't she? True, he had been tired of the popular crowd's antics for a long time, but it was their insulting her that had resulted in his breaking point. She had heard everything he said. Surely she knew that she was the whole reason he had stood up to them.
She was looking at him carefully. "You do know that you're an "outsider" now, though, right?"
"I don't care," he said honestly. "Trust me, none of "us" are missing anything. Those guys have nothing that we want."
Helga smiled. Arnold was so brave, so desperate to stand up for what he believed in. He was right: in a perfect world, clothes and money and beauty shouldn't matter, and personality and kindness and generosity should matter. Most of the student body admired Arnold now for taking a stand. But the sad truth was, in a month or so the incident would probably be forgotten. Things would go back to the way they were before, with the "popular" crowd ruling the school, and the outsiders standing around like desperate dogs longing for a morsel of meat. And this time, Arnold would be on the outside instead of the inside.
He was strong, though. Helga hadn't cracked under the torment of the "in" crowd, and she knew Arnold wouldn't either. She didn't care if they were outsiders, as long as they were outsiders together.
They stood in silence for a few moments, staring at the sunset. Then Helga turned back toward the school. The line to the gym had shortened somewhat. "So...uh... you wanna go in?"
Arnold turned and looked at the line of kids. They stood in small groups, talking, giggling, flirting, shoving each other around, and adding last minute touches to their makeup. Not a mess he particularly wanted to be in right now.
"Not really," he confessed. He turned back to the sun. Then, he sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm really looking forward to tonight." Quickly, he added, "No offense. It's not you. It's just...I wish the dance wasn't today, of all days. Any other day would've been fine, but today..."
Helga was confused. What was today? It was a Saturday. Arnold had no inhibitions against Saturday, as far as she knew. It was October, the beginning of the month. The fourth day. No, the fifth...
October fifth.
"Oh, God," she said aloud. How could she have forgotten? A wave of guilt made her feel sick. Oh, Arnold! How selfish I have been, how conceited! All this time, I've only focused on myself and on the hope that this night might be special for us, never once stopping to remember the significance of this particular day to you, my beloved. Never once putting your feelings over mine! "I...I'm sorry. I guess I forgot that it was...the anniversary of when your parents left." Oh, smooth, she told herself. Say it out loud and make it worse.
But Arnold only looked confused. "How did you know that it was the anniversary of when my parents left? I only remember telling that to Gerald. I didn't think that I told you..."
He hadn't. She had found it out, several years ago, when she was spying on him as usual. "Uh, well..." She fumbled for words, "You...you must've told me, right? I mean, how else would I have known?"
He shrugged. "I guess." He let out a sigh that cracked her heart. What could she say? She wasn't exactly the best at making people feel better.
"You know, Arnold...we don't have to do this," she said in a moment of selflessness. "If it's too hard for you, we could call it off..."
He looked up at her, shaking his head. "Didn't I say the same thing to you a half hour ago? And you told me that, after all this preparation, you weren't going to turn back?"
She smirked, realizing the irony of it. "Yeah...I guess so."
"So..." he took a deep breath, and she could see that he was physically as well as mentally preparing himself for whatever lay ahead, "I'm not going to turn back either. I asked you to this dance, and I intend to follow through."
Inwardly she sighed. He was so noble.
"Hey Arnold!" they both turned at the sound of Gerald's voice. He and Phoebe were walking toward them. Gerald was dressed in a bright blue suit with a red silk tie, and, as usual, his hair was perfectly styled in the top of his head.
Helga smiled at her friend. "Nice dress, Pheebs."
Phoebe glowed under her compliment. "Thank you." In a celebration of one half of family heritage, Phoebe had chosen to wear a baby blue kimono. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a bun and fastened with chopsticks.
"Man, we've been looking all over for you guys! Why are you just standing out here?" Gerald asked Arnold. "Come on, let's go in!"
Arnold offered a half smile to Helga. "Ready?"
She returned a full grin. "As ready as I'll ever be, football head."
Arnold was surprised when he offered her his hand, and even more surprised when she took it.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000
The school gym was dark, punctuated by only a single row of florescent lights here and there. At the back of the gym, two huge speakers vibrated as the DJ, a college student with a variety of music tastes, cranked up the music to its full volume. Braver students stood directly in front of the speakers, moving and vibrating their bodies in time with the music. Shyer students stood along the walls or in the far right corner next to the punch bowl. Others sat at the cheap plastic tables set up along the left wall under the basketball hoops. And, in the darkest corner of the gym, two young stood alone, bent over in conversation. Both of them had dressed the bare minimum for the occasion, wearing untucked white dress shirts and baggy khaki pants. One was tall, with chin length brown hair and angry hazel eyes. The other was muscular and tan. His grey eyes flashed as he surveyed the gym. He pushed a clump of black curls away from his face and asked his companion, "What time is it?"
The other checked his watch. "A quarter after eight." His fists clenched. "Where the hell are they?"
His friend put his hand on his shoulder. "Easy, man. They'll be here."
"Justin! Alex!" a whiny voice broke their conversation as a tall, attractive girl stomped over to the two teenagers. "Why are you just standing here? You've been here by yourselves all night, just talking. The least you could do is come out and stand next to me. I look so stupid out there by myself."
Justin glared at the girl. "Chill out, Rhonda."
"Chill out?! Do you have any idea how horrible this night has been for me? First, my date-your brother-calls me two hours before the dance and tells me that he's not going to the dance tonight. Instead, he's going to this frat party up at Germasen College-a party that somehow I did not get invited to. And not just him, either. Ninety percent of our crowd bailed out on the dance to go to that stupid party. So now I'm standing out there, alone, in my four hundred dollar custom made designer dress, looking like a loser because I have no date and no one to talk to. The only people here from our crowd are Iggy and Katrinka, and they've been dancing with each other all night and totally ignoring me. It's simply-"
"Shut up."
Rhonda's eyes widened. "What did you say?"
Justin's eyes flared. He was not in the mood for Rhonda's complaining. "Shut up," he repeated.
So foreign were those two words to Rhonda that she simply stood, her lips slightly parted, speechless. Finally, she huffed, "Well, I never!" She spun around on her designer heel and stomped away.
Justin blew out a breath. "What a bitch," he muttered.
"Aw, she's not that bad. She's kinda sexy when she's mad. I'd do her." Alex grinned at his younger friend.
Justin recoiled. "Dude, that's disgusting."
Alex shrugged and pushed a black curl out of his face. Justin rolled his eyes, and checked his watch again. "Eight twenty." He crossed his arms over his chest as his face resumed its stony glare. "Man, I cannot wait for this. Those jerks have it coming to them, big time. If they think that they can bring down the status of our whole group, they have another thing coming." He turned to Alex. "You got the stuff?"
"Right here." Alex produced a three inch bottle from his pocket. The bottle was filled three fourths of the way with a clear fluid.
Justin's lip curled into his first smile of the evening. "Excellent, man. So what's it do?"
"It's nothing too heavy. Just makes you, well, a little tipsy." He smirked.
Justin snorted. "So, we'll have the "righteous couple" stumbling all over the place and slurring their words? Ha! Won't make them look so heroic when they're led out of the dance by the big man for being smashed, huh?"
Alex smiled, shook his head, and slid the bottle back into his pocket.
For someone who just spent four days in juvie hall, Justin thought, Alex is acting really calm and collected. But that's what made Alex cool: nothing fazed him. Not a whiny bitch, not four days in jail, not having his social status take a major blow. Alex simply took things as they came, waiting, always waiting, for the perfect opportunity to get what he truly wanted.
Justin, however, was not so calm. "That Arnold guy makes me madder than hell," he said to Alex. "He's the one that brainwashed Lila into thinking that I was some sort of evil bastard. I mean, seriously. We had the perfect relationship, and then one day she was all, 'I don't like the way you're acting; I wanna break up.'"
Alex shrugged. "Come on, Lila wasn't that great. I bet she didn't even put out, did she?"
Justin recoiled as if he'd been slapped in the face. "Dude, that's not funny! I was, like, in love with her! It didn't matter…."
"Sure." Alex grinned at him. "You know, there's plenty more out there. Why don't you try going for Mandy or Christina? The blonde babes. They're easy," he winked at Justin, "trust me."
Justin sighed in aggravation. He was about to check his watch again when something caught his eye. He squinted across the gym at the tall stack of curly black hair that made its way into the gym. Gerald. The traitor, as Justin liked to call him since Thursday, when he had abandoned his own to hang with those people.
He watched the two blondes walk into the gym, hand in hand. His hand curled into a fist. He looked over at Alex. He, too, had spotted the group. His expression had not changed.
Justin looked up at him. "And now?..."
Alex gave a single nod. "We wait."