FRESHMAN, HIGH SCHOOL
Helga had been back for three months before the school year started in September. During that time, she and Bob settled into their new home. It was bittersweet moving back into Hillwood and not being at her childhood home, but she was glad for it. When they left that place, they left their old life, full of hurt, anger, and bitterness. Nothing good happened in that house.
Lexington had been a threshold, an in-between time for the Patakis. Here, in this new home in their old city, was truly, Helga felt, the beginning of their new lives.
Phoebe, the ever wonderful, faithful Phoebe, had been waiting for her at the airport. Bob, not wanting to do anything out of style, had ordered a limo to pick them up. Oh, how good it was to see her again. And how much she had changed! Phoebe was still skinny as a rake and lanky. Her face had thinned out and she was growing out her hair. Puberty was never nice to any kid, but Helga knew that Phoebe was really going to be a looker. She would have to beat back all the boys in high school, no doubt.
And beat them back she would. Over the years, she had learned to control her anger. Instead of lashing out at everyone and everything that passed by, she focused it through sports. She played soccer, basketball, lacrosse and anything else she could sign up for that would take her in. During the summer before eighth grade, she joined Angela in some pre-teen group and went hiking in the mountains in the south of Kentucky. That had been a blast. Her true love, though, was baseball. When she found out that they were moving back to Hillwood, one of the first things she asked Phoebe is if Hillwood City High had a softball team.
Of course they did.
So until she could find some outside-of-school league for teenagers, she'd probably play basketball in the winter. And, of course, dance in the fall. And, if it fit in the schedule, for the rest of the year too.
So while sports were her outlet for her anger, poetry, writing, and dancing were her creative outlets. It was a good balance for her. Whenever she felt her anger getting too out of hand, she fled to the local youth rec center and picked up some boxing gloves. Then she'd go to one of parks and pour her feelings out into stories or poems. By the time she cooled down, she was able to go back home and face her parents for whatever reason that had pissed her off to begin with.
Because Phoebe didn't really keep in touch with any of the kids who went to PS 118, she didn't really see anyone she knew during the summer. Instead, she met Phoebe's new friends. They seemed nice enough, but were kind of cookie-cut from the same mold. There were three of them, Josie, Joel, and Jessica or the Triple Js as Helga liked to call them. She never saw the three of them separated. Either they all were together or they weren't around at all.
It was kind of creepy. Maybe they were some sort of aliens, trying to suck the intelligence from Phoebe. Her friend had just rolled her eyes at her when Helga mentioned it the day before school started. "I'm serious, Pheebs. They all have black hair, kind of a bowl cut, and they all wear glasses." Helga was sitting on Phoebe's bed, absently throwing a baseball in the air as Phoebe was drying her freshly-painted toenails. Since when had she turned so girly?
"What's wrong with wearing glasses?" Phoebe eyed her, knowing that Helga hadn't truly meant anything from it.
"Oh, c'mon. Like you haven't thought the same thing."
Phoebe only smiled and shook her head. "No, but now that you mention it, I do see where you're coming from." They were silent for a moment. "So are you nervous about your first day back?"
"What are you talking about? I've been back for three months!"
Phoebe shot her a look. "You know what I mean."
Helga just shook her head. "Nah. I mean, why would I be? I didn't really talk to anyone except for you when I left. I doubt anyone really remembers me anyway."
"Oh, Helga, don't say that. I'm sure everyone remembers you. But you're right. It's unlikely you'll be in many classes with anyone, anyway. Except for me, of course," Phone ended with a grin. They had been ecstatic to find out that they were in the same Biology, Math, and PE classes. What luck!
"Yeah, I'm surprised that I got into the same math class as you. I didn't think I'd do it, but hey, what'd ya know?" Helga continued to toss the baseball up in the air.
"Are you nervous about seeing Arnold?"
Luckily, she hadn't yet thrown the ball in the air when she asked the question. Helga looked at her, startled. "Geeze, you just came out and said it!" Arnold's name hadn't been brought up once during her time back.
When Helga had first left, her heart had been broken. She cried herself to sleep often and was only plummeting down deeper into despair. Everything was still boxed up, unwilling to admit just how much she needed him, despite her nightly tears. All of her journals, her poems; everything that reminded her of him laid deep in her closet. But then there was that fateful day when Ms. Black had read her essay aloud, where she told everyone in her class about her unrequited love, it kind of snapped her out of it.
She had started to hang out with Angela and, since she already knew at least something about Arnold, Helga had told her everything. It felt good to get it off of her chest. Such a small amount of people knew about her love for the football-headed kid. Angela didn't judge and gave fantastic advice. Perhaps Arnold was only an illusion. Perhaps she was just projecting her betrayal and neglect from her family onto the boy. Besides the stalking, did she really know Arnold at all? How could she think she was in love with someone who she couldn't possibly really know? Angela seemed way too astute for her age, but she was probably right. Helga accepted it. One night, everything but her books had been burned or tossed out. It was the first night her pillow remained dry.
Then she began to heal.
But it wasn't just her that was able to let things go. Not being around in such an angry city helped her family become a unit, just as not being around Arnold made her figure out who she was. The essay was proof of that. Her entire life, her entire existence was because of Arnold. She lived and breathed because he lived and breathed. She was horrible to him because she didn't want him or anyone else to know that she was deeply, utterly in love with him.
The pain had eventually subsided after a year in Lexington and she could move on with her life and be Helga for the first time. The athlete. The dancer. The poet. The writer. And so many other things she had yet to find out.
But then the first letter came. It had been so unexpected, Helga wasn't sure what to make of it. So she ignored it and left it in her drawer, unopened. And then a second one came a couple of days later. Arnold was writing to her. How had he even gotten her address? Phoebe hadn't mentioned it and there's no way she could have double-crossed her like that.
"No, not really." Helga sighed and rested the ball on her chest. "Well, maybe a little. But it's been three years. I'm not the same kid in love with him anymore. And he's changed too." Helga had called Phoebe the day the second letter came, freaking out. What was he doing? Why was he contacting her? And why were they coming from South America?
"Yes, I'm sure he has. At least, from what you've been saying."
It turned out that shortly after Helga moved away, Arnold's parents had been found. They had been kept hostage in some sort of POW camp and needed to be questioned and quarantined before allowed back in the States.
The ass that had kidnapped them had been a huge international smuggler and war criminal. They had been locked up for almost 8 years. It had been a miracle that they had survived at all, let alone still have sanity on their side. Arnold had gone down to be with them for a couple of months, until they were cleared by the American government. That's when he began writing to her.
Helga lifted an eyebrow at that. "Besides, I doubt he'd even want to see me."
"Helga! You've been writing to each other constantly-"
"Not constantly, Phoebe."
"-for the last two years! Of course he's going to want to see you."
Helga resumed throwing the ball up in the air. "So what? It was nothing. He needed to vent to someone who wasn't in his hometown, so it was kind of defaulted to me. It makes sense. Besides, he hasn't written since he left for the summer." That still kind of stung.
Her first response to his early letters had been a test to see if she had really been over him. She replied to him, a short paragraph saying she was doing well in Kentucky and that she was glad he had found his parents. She wasn't expecting anything back. But, of course, a month later, his response came. The letters became more frequent once he and his family settled in Hillwood and international letter-travel wasn't an issue. Her fears eventually subsided and she found that all she saw Arnold as was just a friend. It had been really nice getting to know Arnold through ink and paper.
It was odd, really. One would think that she would have fallen in love with him all over again, but it hadn't been the case. There was no need to build a shrine or write volumes of poetry in his honor. No behind-the-trash-monologues or elaborate, engraved lockets. It was just…friend Arnold. And while they both had email addresses, they thought it was more fun writing their letters. Getting something in the mail as a kid was always exciting.
"So…I have been thinking of trying contacts."
This sudden, drastic change in topics got Helga's attention. She had mentioned it to Phoebe a few times over the last couple of years, but Phoebe had just brushed it off. It wasn't who she was. Phoebe always wore glasses. Besides, her prescription would be too powerful for contacts. "Really?"
"Yeah, in fact, I'm thinking of starting fresh. Just in time for High School, you know?" Helga sat up on the bed and crossed her legs underneath her.
"Why? I think you look great as you are."
She just rolled her eyes. "Please, Helga. You're my best friend, you're supposed to say stuff like that." Phoebe stood up, her nails completely dry, and opened her closet, on a mission to remove all the clothes that she was tired of. Like this ugly turtle neck and that boring t-shirt. A pile started to grow next to Helga on the bed.
"Yeah right. I may have gotten nicer but that doesn't mean I'm going to lie to you." She thought for a moment. "Well, not lie about anything serious. Like this."
"I'm just tired of the same-old. I think change is good. And isn't today the perfect day to do that?" Four more tops were dumped on the bed. Helga's frown deepened as she looked at the growing stack.
"You sure are getting rid of a lot there, Pheebs. Maybe, uh, you should save some things. You know, since you don't want to go to school naked."
Phoebe turned to her, round-eyed. "That's right! I'll need a new wardrobe! We should go now before it starts to get too late. It's only, what-" she turned to look at the clock, "two-twenty now." Grinning widely, she grabbed Helga's hand and dragged her off the bed.
Helga wanted to protest, but she saw how happy it was making Phoebe. It had been a while since she saw her get really excited over something.
And so that's how she spent the day before school: shopping. At least Phoebe didn't force her to get anything for herself. Helga had never been one for shopping for clothes. And, it was kind of fun seeing Phoebe so happy. She held onto the clothes that Phoebe wanted to try on, trailing behind her as she went from rack to rack. There were only a few complaints, and nothing terribly nagging. Except for the fact that it was almost dinner time and Helga was starting to get hungry.
As Phoebe was paying the cashier, Helga grabbed the three large bags. "Where did you get all of that money anyway?"
"Holidays and allowances. I rarely buy anything so it adds up."
"Yeah, obviously. You know, you could always give me some of that green if it's too much of a burden." Helga grinned jokingly. She would never take money from Phoebe. Besides, she had a shared credit card with her and her dad's name on it in her back pocket. It was only supposed to be used in emergencies, but it was there none-the-less.
"So, Phoebe," Helga continued, as they walked out of the store and towards Phoebe's house. "Isn't your optometrist just a few doors down?"
"Why, yes, Helga. Good memory!" When Phoebe smiled up at her, she was slightly confused to see Helga looking at her with a strange grin. After a moment, it dawned on her. Once again, an excited look crossed her face. "Helga, do you really think I should?"
"I've been saying it for years. And you just said you were thinking about it. If you really want to try it out, why not go for it? We're going to be Freshmen and all. Besides, if you end up not liking them, then you don't wear them."
An hour and one starving stomach later, Helga and Phoebe walked out of the door from the eye doctor. Phoebe was looking at the world for the first time without any frames in the way, and she could see things from her peripheral vision. It was amazing! It took her a few tries to get the darn contacts in, but she eventually got it. As Helga watched Phoebe skip home, her head constantly moving as she took in her new sight, she never really realized just how infectious Phoebe's happiness was. Was Phoebe always this happy and Helga always so miserable not to see it? What a chump she had been.
They walked to school together. It was a bit of a trek, but Helga wanted to keep up on any exercise that she could and Phoebe just wanted to be with Helga. They talked about what they thought they thought their classes would be like, what Phoebe had heard in terms of rumors through friends' older siblings, and other pointless chatter. They were just happy to be together.
Freshman orientation had been the week before, but it took a few moments to remember exactly where their lockers were. They were on different hallways but they stopped at Phoebe's since Helga had no reason to go to hers. Unlike Helga, Phoebe had all those little locker things that many freshman girls seemed to get so excited over. The shelf, the mirror, the pictures. All stuff Helga could really do without. Sure, she'll probably put up a wrestling poster and maybe an advert for some sort of dance performance in the future. But for now, she didn't even have books to put in it.
They were discussing about the latest episode of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, which Helga had forced Phoebe to get updated on during the summer, as Phoebe was finishing up her locker when they were unexpectedly interrupted.
"Helga!"
Both girls turned at her name. Helga didn't recognize the voice, but she did recognize the head. And hair. Kind of. Short hair fell straight along his face and his hat was missing. Her heart thumped as she stood there, frozen in place. He was so much cuter than he had been in fifth grade.
She straightened her back as she unconsciously did in stressful situations and squared her shoulders. Helga had convinced herself that he had no interest in talking to her anymore now that she was moving back. Him being out of the country for the summer made no difference; he hadn't had any issues with sending her mail while in San Lorenzo.
He stopped when he got to her, his arms instantly around her in a tight hug. She blinked, completely taken aback. What was he doing? Didn't he know that this could set her reeling back to those dark, painfully longing days of her childhood?
She braced herself for the butterflies, the pure bliss, but it didn't come. It felt like Phoebe hugging her. She grinned in relief and hugged him back. She really was over him! "Heya, Football Head."
He pulled back and attempted to give her a semi-annoyed look. "Really?"
She gave him half shrug. "Hey, habits die hard. But it's good to see you. How was Guatemala?" Arnold's last letter was him telling her that he would be accompanying his parents on a three month expedition through the country, trying to replicate various kind of Mayan medicine. Guess eight years being held by a psycho didn't deter the scientists one bit.
"Kind of crazy. Really depressing when we were in town, actually. But we can talk about that later. How are you doing? You look great!" His grin took over his face and she couldn't help but smile back. It had always been so contagious.
"Thanks. So do you, even with this goofy haircut." She flicked his hair for emphasize. He blushed and unconsciously put a hand on the top of his head.
"I thought it was time for a change…" he trailed off. It seemed entering high school was a change for a lot of people. "Sorry I didn't write. We only were in a town with a post office when we first got there and when we left there a couple of days ago."
"Ah, don't worry about it. I figured that a crocodile just ate ya, or somethin'." That seemed smooth.
He chuckled.
"Hi, Arnold." Phoebe had been watching the exchange with some amusement. Helga was certain that she didn't have any feelings for Arnold any more, and Phoebe had to admit that it was a pleasant, albeit unusual sight to see Helga so polite to the boy despite the years of separation, but she didn't think that Helga would be able to last the school year without those feeling coming back.
"Phoebe!" Arnold turned to her and, still grinning, hugged her too. "It's been so long! I feel like I rarely saw you in middle school."
She just smiled back. "Yes, I can't recall having any classes together, Arnold. But it's good to see you too. It looks like you got a lot sun over the summer. Guatemala, I think Helga said?"
"Yeah. My folks and I went down there for a few months, looking for some plants. We've been back a couple of days, but we've all kind of been dead since then," he grinned.
The shrill alarm of the first bell screamed over them. Helga scowled and rubbed her ear. "Criminy, can that thing get any louder?"
"What's your first class, Arnold?" questioned Phoebe. "Helga and I have Biology with Burt in room 101."
"Oh, I think I have that second period. I have Spanish first." He indicated the door a few feet away. "So I'm right here. Maybe I'll see you guys before you leave class."
"Maybe. But the school's not that big. We'll catch'ya later, Football Head."
Grinning down at Phoebe as they walked away, Helga lifted her backpack higher. "Not a thing, Pheebs. It's like there was nothing ever there before."
But there was something there, thought Phoebe. And even you know that no one ever gets over their first love.