A/N: Yeah, brace yourself for this chapter. I'm not nearly as excited as I should be. I'm kinda nervous about this part and Idk if I like how it turned out at all. XP Ehhhhh... whatever. -_-
In any case, I'm posting two chapters this time around, because I have grown impatient and I want to move on to Philliam's chapter. xD Also I'm going to be posting random chapters in between this chapter once it's finished and Phil's, to try to mix it up a little (I grow so weary of serious chapters nowadays). So here's the low down, the scoop, the dizzle in the hizzle—after these next two parts of the chapter, there is only one left, but... it's not finished. D: *Slaps self* I know, I know. xD But I've been having problems with it. Like, Idk if I want to do this or do that, or if I want to go down this road or that road or if I just want to carpool. I'm all discombobulated and I have an entire page full of notes on the matter. xD So I have a basic mental outline of what I want to write, but I'm very on the fence about one part. I'm hoping posting these two up will help me make some decisions.
Say thank you to the lovely xxP00h67chu for being the 90th review! That's what held up the update for so long. xD I'm super excited about all of this! I never would have expected a... a... a RESPONSE to this fic. D: xDD Like at all. I was just doing this chizz for kicks and practice. xD But now I'm only ten reviews away to 100 reviews! ...TO AN OC FIC! *Faints* HOLY GUACAMOLE BATMAN! You guise ;_; THANK YOU. 100 f-ing reviews... I'd squeal for eternity. XD :'D
~Amazing People~
Narcisa Le Fay
metalheadrailfan
writergirl97
starrynights1987
Nep2uune
acosta perez jose ramiro
Panfla
LovelyPooh67
Thank you guys so much for taking the time! I got a lot of long reviews and I swear I nearly had a heart attack. xD You guys just continue to amaze and mystify me. This part is mostly serious I think, but the next has a lot more antics, and then we draw to a close. Plot bunnies... *Sigh* I hate 'em. They just run everywhere and are impossible to catch and they tempt you with their fluffy little faces. The horror. D:
Hope you enjoy this, next part will be posted very soon. I'll have more important notes at the end of the next part.
Disclaimer: I own the Shortman kids, but not "Hey Arnold!" or Taro.
Looking Up
Part 3
As the school loomed closer, Zack found himself sinking down into his seat, the chilled morning air somehow still managing to bite through his clothes despite the heater being on full blast.
Josh was smiling stupidly across the seat, searching out the window for anyone he knew and swinging his legs. Since Phil was beside him, he kept trying to latch onto his arm and he kept having to bat him off his cast. As a result, Phil was on the verge of tears, but all Zack could think was how he wasn't far off from that point either. Zack reached over with his good arm to ruffle his hair and Phil frowned, trying to bat his hand off. Zack remained resolute, though, and before long Phil stopped fighting and fell silent. Zack took his hand away then, smiling, and Phil begrudgingly smiled back.
Reality came crashing back when the car came to a stop, and his dad turned around to smile brightly at them. He didn't have to say anything to them, this was routine by this point, so Zack just smiled and Josh beamed. Zack got out of the car and walked around to help Josh out best he could with one arm, before they both waved goodbye to Phil and slammed the door shut. Phil's jellybean eyes peeked through the window as they walked up the steps of P.S. 118, before Arnold drove them out of sight to drop him off at the preschool around the corner.
Unbeknownst to them, Zack watched them drive off with dread in his eyes, before Josh excitedly pulled him into the school. His reluctant feet caused him to stumble, and Josh scrambled to keep him up on his feet. Zack smiled gratefully as he gained back his balance, and before long Josh was pulling him along through the halls again.
Since their dad taught at the school, he always had to drop them off earlier than usual so he could make it on time. It didn't take more than ten minutes to drop Phil off, so Zack knew it wouldn't be long before he was rushing through the halls to get his things ready for the school day, but they wouldn't cross paths again until lunch. Zack wondered sometimes how his father could be in the same building with him all day and still not know. It made things feel even more helpless than they were, although Zack knew it was his own fault. He was good at hiding things, and so was he.
Zack dropped Josh off in his second grade classroom and kept him company for a little while, before he edged his way out and began his slow trek to his own classroom, down the hall, two lefts and a right, and here he was. He stared at the door handle for a long while, afraid of what he might find on the other side and mentally berating himself for being such a baby.
"Got a problem, Brow?"
Zack's heart kicked into high gear and he slammed himself up against the door, his wide eyes scanning slowly up to meet two smug brown eyes that he swore shone red in the bright lighting of the hallway, nearly matching the thick, blinding red locks of his hair. His chest heaving, he could do nothing but stare.
August Bailey looked down at him like a piece of candy stuck to his shoe, nine years of age and yet a tower compared to Zack's average height and skinny frame. With a girth that made him nearly three times the size of the average fourth grader, people cowered at the sight of him, whether he was looking at them or not. Zack was no exception. He was a preference.
"Something wrong with the itty, bitty baby, hm? Cat got your tongue?" August laughed with all his weight, yet somehow Zack felt like he was the only one who could hear it. He could do nothing but shake his head, already messing up the hair his mother had spent all morning combing out.
August just laughed again at his response, before his eyes zeroed in on the giant cast surrounding his left arm. He smirked at the sight of it. "Wow, I did that, huh? Guess I really don't know my own strength."
Zack looked down at his arm, wrapped so neatly in the carefully applied gauze and held up by a plain blue sling. Somehow it looked much less sturdy now, like it could just be blown off with one, determined gust of wind and thrown into a mangled pile on the floor. Zack gulped and looked back up at August, finally managing to speak with a sheepish smile, "I guess not…"
August smiled down at him, looking pleased, and reached over to touch the cast. Zack twitched but then quickly realized his error and stiffened up. August noticed, though, and his hand snapped to grab the cast in a fist, making Zack's eyes widen. August just smiled. "That's a pretty thick cast. I must have done a real number on ya. You squeal to anyone?"
Zack took in a shaky breath and shook his head rapidly. "No, and no one suspects anything. I told them I fell."
August sneered at that, gripping his arm tighter and eliciting a squeak from him. "That's a weak excuse. You couldn't have come up with anything better?"
Zack tried to keep the stars out of his eyes as he responded, "It's best to keep lies simple… They're more believable that way." He shook, wiggling his arm a little to try to loosen his grip. "Nobody suspects, really. They were more concerned with getting me to the hospital than asking questions."
August leaned down into his face, his eyes slipping nearly shut and leaving only a sliver of the reds of his eyes. "You better keep it that way, short man." He let go of his arm then and put on a smile, looking much too normal for Zack's taste as he patted him on his shoulder. "I'll have to sign that later, Zack, if I might have the honor."
Zack grinned shakily. "It's all yours."
"Good." He smiled one last time, before pushing him out of the way and shoving into the classroom. Zack stumbled before falling onto his face on the floor. He moaned as the pain in his arm hit, and then the pain in his face, but he didn't move. This had been going on for months now, ever since August Bailey's last victim transferred schools and he decided Zack would be a suitable replacement. Zack had never been one to bring attention to himself, so this had shocked him. He was quiet during school hours, he hid behind trashcans to read during recess, and he ate lunch with his dad in his classroom. Kids tended to just ignore him, and he had no problem with that. He figured making friends should be a natural thing, but with his unibrow and rather plain looks and quiet ways during school hours, nobody ever took an interest. That included bullies. Zack didn't care at the time, though, because he had his family, and to him, that was all he needed.
It wasn't until fourth grade rolled around and the teacher started asking kids to come up to read their work that things changed. Within the first week of the new semester Mrs. Holt asked Zack to come up and read his poem. The assignment had been done within ten minutes in class, so Zack had just shrugged and walked up to the front of the room to do so.
He didn't expect much of a response from his reading his poem. Maybe a few bored claps or a polite smile or two, but nothing like what had happened. He didn't expect every kid in the class to stare at him, before bursting into laughter. He didn't expect the name calling or jeering or pointed fingers. He didn't expect the teacher to be in tears or the class bully, August Bailey, to look at him like a jelly donut. He didn't expect to suddenly get pulled into an alley after class and get called a sissy, punk, baby girl, unibrow. He didn't expect his entire world to suddenly get thrown upside down. Suddenly he wasn't staring dreamily out the window during class, now he was ducking down low in his seat and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. Suddenly everyone was a threat and he had to literally run to get away from his teacher's enthusiastic compliments. He hid behind trashcans for the protection and ate lunch in the janitor's closet. He just wanted to disappear.
Life seemed to get dimmer and dimmer as the days passed, and just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. He'd been having to hide black eyes, play off sprained ankles and wrists, and just all around act like things were normal for a while now, but it was starting to get tiresome. He didn't want to go on like this anymore. He felt like a wimp for not being able to stand up for himself, but he felt like he didn't have a choice. He wasn't violent. What could he do but take it like a man and suck it up?
He didn't think there would be a time in his life when a genuine smile from a stranger would mean the world, but now it was everything. Because not only did no one have an interest in him now, they just straight up avoided him, scrambled away from him like he was a wild animal. Kids had forgotten about the poetry incident, his five minutes of infamy were long up, but now no one wanted to be anywhere near "August's boy." No one ever had. He was starting to regret ignoring August's last victim. He understood him now, and he almost wished he'd had his phone number so he could call him up just to tell him that, but who was he kidding? He didn't even know his name. All he could remember were the vacant eyes that were slowly starting to become his own.
Lying on the floor now, Zack was furious with himself. If August was going to start breaking things, someone was eventually going to notice, and that horrified Zack now. He couldn't stand the idea of seeing his mother's terrified eyes or his father's panic-stricken face again. He'd heard his mom's heavy breathing as she talked to his dad when the nurses were taking him away; "Oh, Arnold, we're horrible parents, we're the worst parents that ever existed! We're in a hospital! I'm never letting him out of the house again! I'm going to strap him to a chair in the living room, duct tape a bunch of pillows to his head, and never let him out of my sight again!" He'd expected his dad to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of that, but instead he'd readily agreed. It had felt like someone ripped his stomach open and plunged a hand in. They shouldn't have felt like that, they were the best parents any kid could ask for. How could they have thought for a even second they weren't? It wasn't their fault this was happening to him. He felt horrible for being bitter at them before now. He'd thought because they weren't making an effort to fix the problem that they didn't care, but that wasn't true at all. They just didn't know. He knew that now, and it was ripping him in two.
The entire situation was. He didn't feel like himself. He felt wrong and different and just… odd. Especially now with his nose crushed up against the floor, the scent of floor wax nearly choking him. If he didn't think his parents would freak out, he'd just run away. That would solve everything, wouldn't it? But no, his parents would inevitably spaz out, his mother would be in hysterics and his father ringing in the cavalry. He'd be lucky if he even managed to exit the neighborhood before he was found, and inevitably ended up in the hospital again for whatever excuse they could manage. They'd wait in the lobby for hours as they had every test imaginable done on him to make sure he was one hundred percent okay, stick as many needles and vaccines as they could get away with in him, perhaps a few experimental even, and then his dad would come in to give him a stern talking to as he tried to reel in his emotions, again. At the very least maybe he'd get super powers out of it for the experimental tests, though. That would solve his problems all right. The thought depressed him, to think he'd need to have laser vision to be able to do anything. He was screwed.
Something flashed in his mind then, something he hadn't thought of in years before yesterday, and against all odds, he found a smile curving his lips without his even trying to put it there.
Shakily sitting up on the floor, his eyes rose to the ceiling, and his smile grew as the fluorescent light above him twinkled at him. It was unexpected, and maybe he was seeing things, but his spirits lifted all the same and he found he couldn't care less if he'd lost his mind or not.
He spoke quietly to himself, his voice a bit hoarse, "When life gets you down, wearing a frown, don't look away, look up…" He sighed.
He reached a blind hand up to smooth out his hair then before standing up from the floor on unwilling limbs. With his free hand he dusted off his cast as best he could before puffing up his chest, trying to look more confident. In the end he deflated, though, and he chuckled, the first laugh he'd managed in hours. He wondered why he didn't laugh more in public. Maybe then kids wouldn't be so standoffish.
He walked into the classroom shortly after deciding he would try to laugh more often, making no eye contact whatsoever with August, and settled into his usual seat by the window.
Today, things would change.
He just hoped the change would be for the better.
Zack woke up with a snort, gulping back a small pocket of saliva that had built up in his mouth. Sitting up, he coughed, beating his chest. "Agh, lovely. Just lovely." He shook his head. Chuckling, he sat there dumbly for a little while with a dazed smile, still too sleep-hazed to do anything else.
Before too long, he finally noticed there was a weight on his head that wasn't usually there. Confused, he reached up to touch at his hair, only to have his hand come in contact with a rough fabric of some kind. "What the…" He pulled the baseball hat off of his head and stared at it, almost offended of its existence. "Where the heck did this come from? I don't wear hats!" He threw the hat across the room carelessly, sure someone just put it on him to annoy him in his sleep.
"But who…" he mumbled, the room scattering before his eyes in the darkness. Blinking, he reached up to rub at his eyes and stood up. He knew who, of course he knew who. "Stinking Jaron, thinks he's so funny," he grumbled to himself.
As Zack exited out of the room, Arnold slunk out of the shadows and sighed, bending down to pick up the hat from the floor. Despite the failure, he couldn't help but chuckle as he stared down at the blue baseball cap. "You just wait, Zack, I'm wearing you down."
When Zack entered the living room, he found a considerably smaller group of people than the one he'd left earlier. It was down to the close friends and family portion of the night, and Zack knew it wouldn't be much longer before they'd have to go home. Zack was relieved at this realization, and would have loved a chair to sink into if there were one, which of course there wasn't. Why the Japanese insisted on sitting on the floor was beyond Zack but he'd have sat down in an electric chair by this point he was so tired. He sauntered his way to the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator to steal away the sushi Taro gave him permission to, only to find it was all gone save for one piece sat a little too conspicuously on a plate. Grunting, he pulled the plate out and awkwardly sat down in the miserable excuse for a seat on the floor, his long legs awkwardly curving up under him, which proved to be hissingly uncomfortable. Zack did his best to ignore the discomfort though as he sat the plate down on the miniature table and grabbed the sushi up. Amidst his chewing Zack noticed a plain white note had been hidden underneath.
He snatched it up and read it silently to himself. Traders don't get sushi.
There was some sloppily scripted Japanese writing after that, which Zack was able to loosely translate to "Screw you," along with a few other words he wasn't even going to think. Overall Zack got a kick out of it, and he lifted the small scrap of paper up and made a show of slowly ripping it to shreds, just in case anyone was watching. He threw it in the air like confetti and stood, wandering casually over to search through the cabinets. He knew how Jaron's mind worked—everyone always ended up trying to beat him at his game sooner or later, and Jaron had made enough attempts by this point that Zack knew all his tricks. He'd expected him to go crawling to him with an apology, and then he'd just whip out the sushi from nowhere like magic and happy ending music would play and then roll credits. But Zack wasn't about to offer an apology over something he'd well deserved. The way he saw it, they were even, and his attempts at gaining the upper hand were useless.
Sliding the delicate china out of harm's way, Zack reached deep to the left in the cabinet and retrieved a small bag of sushi already neatly put away in a wooden box. It was a hiding place Zack knew Jaron loved to put potato chips and stuff of the sort in, and where Zack used to like to steal snacks from all the time when they were kids. Jaron would probably go out of his mind if he knew he'd known all this time.
And just as he'd suspected, that was exactly what happened.
Jaron came bursting seemingly out of nowhere into the room, his arms flailing and contacts replaced in favor of some more comfortable golden eyeglasses. He looked livid. "How did you know?" he yelled, taking a step forward towards him with his arms set like he was ready to throttle him.
Zack turned around calmly and smiled at him. Smiled at him. "I think I may have told you once or twice that I know everything. That was a confession, not me bragging."
"How could you—" Jaron sputtered, his eye twitching. Shaking his head then, he growled like a bulldog, deep in the back of his throat with his brown eyes raging. "That is my most well-guarded secret! No one knows about it, I never talk about it, and I always check three times to make sure nobody's around before I get anything out of it! How did you find out?"
Zack blinked at him a bit dully, still exhausted, and just continued to smile his wan smile at him. "For something that's supposed to be your most well-guarded secret, you tend to yell very loudly about it." Chuckling quietly, he shrugged. "I was just hungry one day and went snooping. It's not that great a hiding place. Clever, but obvious. Although it is the most obvious hiding places people tend to overlook the most, isn't it—"
"Stop with your mind games!" Jaron shouted, flittering his hand in his face and making Zack feel a bit dizzy. "First you betray me to my arch-nemesis then you steal the only good thing I have to myself? Dude, uncool!"
Zack pursed his lips to keep from grinning. "You make me sound like some kind of diabolical villain."
"Oh, well," Jaron snorted, flicking his head to the right and rolling his eyes, "maybe that's because you are?"
"Hardly," Zack chuckled, carefully wrapping the bag handle around his wrist to ensure he wouldn't drop it.
There was a long moment of silence where Zack messed around with the bag and Jaron stared at him expectantly. Before long, Jaron got fed up and drew out angrily, "Hello?"
Zack looked up at him with innocent curiosity. It made Jaron feel like ripping his own teeth out and smashing them with a hammer. They were just going to be reduced to nubs anyhow with his best friend being Zack.
His voice came out even more impatient than he was, "Aren't you going to apologize already? For, you know, humiliating me?"
Zack looked at him levelly. "Aren't you going to apologize for inviting the devil over to a party you knew I'd have to come to?"
Jaron's jaw dropped. "Oh come on, that's different—"
"How?" Zack grit his teeth, a hardness entering his tone from the memories of earlier this evening. That girl was going to be the death of him, very possibly literally, and Jaron had completely disregarded it. She was like the black plague, relentless and determined to destroy no matter the circumstance. Jaron didn't understand but he shouldn't have had to—his discontent towards her had been more than obvious after the fit he'd been unable to resist throwing in the cafeteria. But he'd ignored all of that and invited her for kicks and a possible phone number. If that wasn't betrayal, he didn't know what was.
Apparently he'd said all this out loud without his knowing because Jaron looked furious. "I betrayed you for kicks? Zack, you betray people all the time, every day, just for laughs, and then play it off like it's nothing! You're a complete moral cheat! And you get away with it! Why is it so wrong if I do it for a change? The way you freaked out before was funny! Sue me for thinking it, but dude, you completely lost your mind! That was a complete overreaction, and so is your reaction now." Huffing then, he seemed to hesitate before adding, "And for the record, Pam's not a devil. You'd know that if you stopped flipping your lid and just listened to what she has to say."
Zack inhaled sharply, stunned.
Jaron stared at him hard with his brow and lips stressed, before sighing harshly. "Dude, all she did was ask you a question about a measly little grade. Why can't you just answer her? What is your problem?"
Zack stared at him. Words kept coming to mind to say but he couldn't force them out of his throat, wasn't even sure if he wanted to, they were pathetic attempts at an argument, plus it had just become obvious to Zack that Jaron had been talking to Pam earlier while he was asleep. She'd managed to turn him somehow, and any attempts Zack might make to turn him back now would be useless. For the first time in a long time, Zack felt small. He couldn't answer her questions, and he couldn't answer Jaron's, and he couldn't explain why. He had nothing to say.
Jaron glared at him for his silence. "Fine, say nothing, but the fact remains. I'm sorry if I committed some sort of horrible sin by inviting a perfectly friendly girl over, but you know how I feel about Taro. You're supposed to help me out of situations like that, not throw me into them."
Zack's lips still refused to move, and his feet felt cemented to the spot. Despite everything, for all the inner turmoil he'd found himself in thanks to that girl and mixed emotions regarding his best friend, he couldn't deny that Jaron had a point. He suddenly felt terrible. His face was effortlessly calculated to hide this fact, though, and all he could do was stand there, trying to figure a way out.
Jaron's eyes stayed hard on him for a few more moments, before his expression softened as it occurred to him he'd managed to make Zachary Shortman speechless, the guy who always had something witty to say, some sort of ace up his sleeve or great bomb to drop; the guy who was currently staring at him with not a clue as to how to respond. Jaron could brag and laugh in his face for finally getting him on something, but instead he just reached up to pat him on the shoulder and smiled. "Oh, whatever, dude. I forgive you for it. What are best friends for anyway?"
Even through his carefully crafted mask of indifference, Zack couldn't control his relieved smile. To think this was the guy who was constantly questioning their friendship. Zack couldn't ask for a better friend. He smiled at him gratefully, a hint of apology in his eyes that refused to make it out of his mouth.
Jaron gave him a beaming grin, before he suddenly snatched the bag out of Zack's hand, already racing across the kitchen. "But you still don't get any sushi!" Because of the bag handle's tightly looped hold around Zack's wrist, he ended up pulling Zack along with him to the middle of the room, the two of them stumbling before Jaron stopped and snapped around in surprise.
Zack's jaw unhinged in a split second of shock before a smug smirk ripped across his face and he puffed out his chest. "Ha, nice try, buddy, but better luck next—Whoa!" As he'd been talking, Jaron's mind had been fast at work on calculating exactly how to unloop the handle from him, and with a shockingly crafty movement, the bag was neatly tugged free of Zack's wrist and Jaron was laughing maniacally up the hall.
Zack's jaw dropped again and he froze, before his brain kicked into gear and he tore up the kitchen running. "Dude, uncool!"
Just as he turned the corner to race up the hall after his hooligan of a best friend, stars burst from nowhere in front of his eyes and the twittering of birds filled his ears. Stumbling backward, he rubbed his eyes and shook his head to try to clear the throbbing, before opening them to see what he'd slammed into.
Seeing nothing, his eyes frantically looked around the expanse of the hall before a flash of red caught his eye and he swiveled his gaze down. He instantly regretted it.
There on the floor, were female, green eyes the size of saucers blinking up at him, like two otherworldly UFOs come to abduct him and probe his mind of it's secrets. Every playful and overjoyed thought he'd been having instantly burst into flames.
His eyes ripped off of Pam to see Jaron's head poking out from his room down the hall, smirking his best imitation of his smirk back at him. Oh, so he'd planned this then. Well played. Zack's eyes narrowed into a death glare and Jaron's head snapped into his room. Wise boy. He couldn't postpone his death for much longer, though. Nobody screwed with Zack—not even his best friend.
He was snapped out of his vengeful thoughts by Pam, who currently had her UFOs narrowed at him, "Well are you going to help me up or not, Godzilla? I don't know what the air's like up there, but it's really stuffy down here—" he interrupted her irritating speech when he snatched her hand almost off of her wrist to pull her up, causing her eyes to shoot open wide, "Ah!" Pam wobbled on her feet as his hand retreated, almost confused of her whereabouts now.
Zack just sniffed at her, not feeling particularly up to dealing with her right now. He'd won their last roundabout easy enough and even gotten a laugh out of it, but now he was exhausted, his best friend had just guilted him into a trap, and he was not happy. He didn't know what time it was, but he wasn't willing to take the chance of it being midnight or anywhere near midnight right now—she might try to make that an excuse to start badgering him again. Curtly, he replied, "You're welcome," before looking for the nearest exit.
Pam gained her bearings fast enough and quickly put her arms up in the doorway, blocking his way with a firm look. "Hey, wait a minute, I have a bone to pick with you—"
"Dogs often do," Zack said, his eyes distractedly trying to figure out how to get around her without touching her.
Pam gaped at his audacity. "Are you kidding me? Is this all you do? Take cheap shots at someone whose only intention from the very beginning was to talk to you?" Her eyes shot up in a glare, and she growled. "I'm getting really sick of you—"
"Good!" Zack chirped grinnily, raising his arms in a shrug. "Because the feeling is mutual."
"Oh, really? I had no clue," she said dryly.
Finally giving up on getting away for now, Zack huffed. "What are you even still doing here? Shouldn't you have gone home by now?"
Pam shrugged. "I like free food." Snorting then, she glowered, "But I don't like unibrowed crybabies embarrassing me in front of hot guys!"
Despite himself, Zack smirked. "Oh, come on, you seemed to get along just fine after I left."
Pam shook, her face coloring a bright shade of pink. "He gave up on me saying anything and told me I should probably splash some cold water on my face, so I asked him where the bathroom was, and he told me, but I got confused and it just…" She took in a shallow breath before glaring at him clearly trying not to laugh. "Shut up! This is all your fault!"
Zack sniggered, before smirking through his strained face and standing higher. "Oh, I know very well. I take full responsibility." He played with the collar of his shirt, feeling rather cocky with himself and looking it too. "One of my better works."
Pam looked up at him through her eyebrows, her expression totally flat and disbelieving. "How is this even possible," she muttered to herself, before poking him in his chest with a small scowl. "You've got a big, gaudy unibrow and the ego to match! That was uncalled for! I don't understand why you can't just tell me—"
"Ah, ah, ah," Zack wagged his finger at her, grinning darkly, "for the entire night, you said you wouldn't bring it up. And for the record," he licked his thumb and dragged it across his eyebrow, pompously remarking, "the ladies love the brow. You would know that if you were a girl."
Pam glared at him, before an exaggerated sigh fell from her lips and she shook her head sadly. "Ah, for the sake of your ego, I wish that were true. But alas, I'm quite female, and the unibrowed look is so 90s. I prefer the manly type, not the cross-dressing, petite type."
Zack's amused look turned sour. "Sticking two waterballoons down your shirt doesn't make you a girl. If anyone's the crossdresser, it's you." His eyes took in her baggy clothing and messy hair then, and his tone went a bit dry, "Although you're doing a terrible job of it."
She huffed out a breath and shot up on her tiptoes to grin in his face, her eyes narrowed. "Do you want I should prove it?"
Zack's jaw dropped for a split second, before a broad smirk spread over his face. Never a good sign, not that Pam cared a lick. "Normally I'd say yes, but I know you'd just be picturing me as Josh the entire time." He turned away from her like he couldn't even look at her right now, and said in a voice exaggerated enough for a soap opera, his hands rubbing up and down his upper arms, "And I don't like being used."
A hand smacked him across his arm and Zack snapped his head to her, outraged. Just as her hand was moving away he snatched it up and held it high above her head, scowling. "Stop. Hitting. Me," he stressed, his arm shaking.
Pam stared in surprise at her arm suspended above her, and instantly became annoyed as she struggled to get out of his grip. "Oh please, like you can do a thing about it, Brow. You call this anything? I've seen worse." Huffing at her failed attempts at freedom, she pushed a few tendrils of red hair out of her face and glared at him. "Seriously, what is your problem with me? I saw how you were with everyone earlier. You weren't being a doofus to any of them. I have done nothing to provoke this, yet you've been a complete jerk to me ever since we met." He let go of her wrist then and she shot it back down to herself, rubbing at where he'd held her. Taking this as a good sign, she asked, honestly wanting to know, "What did I do?"
Zack stared at her blankly.
After a few silent moments, he pushed past her down the hall. "Nothing."
Pam was too tired to argue at this point, so she just watched him go into one of the rooms and shut the door. Sighing, she concluded he was a lost cause and yawned. It was about time she went home anyway.
After all, there was always tomorrow.
Gerald shook his head in rueful disbelief, feeling his towering hair sway as he did so. "Mmm, mmm, mmm. It's been two years but I still can't believe Timberly married Chocolate Boy."
Arnold, standing steadily beside him with a cup of water in hand, just yawned and laughed. "I don't know, it's kind of obvious if you think about it. They'd been friends for years. That whole fling he had with the Campfire Lass in seventh grade threw off a lot of people, though."
Gerald snapped his fingers at him into a pointer. "No, now that was an obvious match! And one I completely saw coming. I was shocked when they broke up."
"But he only liked her for her chocolate," Helga guffawed, hanging off of Arnold's arm.
Arnold grinned at her, clearly not getting her double meaning. "Very true." Looking back to Gerald then, he swished the water around in his cup. "But I still think it's sweet how they ended up together…" He coughed, "No pun intended." Helga smirked at him and he purposely avoided her look.
Gerald unleashed a hot breath from his nose, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. "Man, I thought you had him off of chocolate by that point? Wasn't he on some kind of sick radish kick then?"
Helga shook her head. "I think it was turnips."
Arnold smiled at her, chuckling a little. "No, it was radishes…" he blinked, his eyes losing focus, "I think." Shaking his head, he went on to explain, "But I did have him off of chocolate for a while, but he had a breakdown when his nanny came to visit. Remember? I thought he was finally going to gain closure but instead he just lost it again when she had to leave."
Gerald hummed under his breath, his lips pursed. "Ah, yeah. That's a shame. Still, the kid's incapable of not overdoing it with something. Radishes or chocolate or even turnips, that boy doesn't know when to quit. And Tim's a horrible influence—she's even more sweet obsessed than he is, and I didn't think that was possible."
Helga laughed at this, coming out of Arnold's arm a little to step forward with a smirk. "Hey, maybe that's not a bad thing. She eats all the chocolate before he ever gets any. Girls have a longer lifespan anyway, if she eats all the candy away from him, maybe they'll end up dying around the same time."
Gerald gave her an incredulous look, before putting on a girly look and fluttering what little eyelashes he had. "Ohhh, how romantic." He snorted.
Helga snorted back. "Whatever keeps the romance alive, don't question it. I mean, Arnold and I—"
"Up, up, up!" Gerald held up a hand, twisting his face. "I do not need to know. In any case, though, that's not really their system. We ended up only having one piece of cake left so they had to split it in half, and they didn't even argue. Something tells me they've been doing that for a while now. So in a way, they're kind of keeping each other from dying of diabetes. Too soon, anyway."
Helga shrugged. "Depends on how much sugar they split a day, and something tells me it's a lot. We'll outlive them."
Arnold scrunched up his nose. "Cute. I just love our conversations."
Air burst from Gerald's nose in a silent laugh. "I always get a kick out of 'em."
"They'd be better with Pheebs," Helga couldn't help adding, her eyes averted. "She'd know exactly what amount."
Gerald looked like he wanted to agree but instead he just sighed and wagged his finger at her. "Ah, ah, no hinting, she needs her rest. She's got an early morning tomorrow, and she already had to throw this party for Taro and bake the cake and everything. No one is disturbing her. Not on my watch."
Helga took a step out of Arnold's arm and gave Gerald a nasty look. "She had to bake that enormous cake, all by herself, when she had work tomorrow?"
Gerald looked surprised for a moment, before he scowled at her. "She insisted! I told her she shouldn't but with Taro going off to college in less than a week, she really wanted to make his birthday special. These kids are growing up way too quick—Kori was off to college before she was even fifteen! I still can't get over it." He shook his head to the ceiling. "So we had an agreement—she made the food, I decorated the place."
Helga hummed lowly as her eyes inspected the room, still scattered with some random teens here and there that had yet to leave with party streamers and lanterns abound. She looked back to Gerald then and receded, grabbing Arnold's arm to wound it around herself again. "Okay, fine, just wanted to make sure." Suddenly she was out of Arnold's arm again and was glaring daggers into Gerald's eyes, her teeth bared. "Because I don't give a rat's ass how long you've been married now, my threat on your wedding day remains, you skyscraper-haired bozo. If you ever do anything to hurt her—"
Gerald gaped at her before waving his arms at her to get her to back away, which she did, thank God. Gerald huffed at her, his shoulders tensing. "I would never hurt Phoebe!"
"Again," Helga corrected, her eyes sharp.
Gerald's face flashed with hurt. "Again. We both worked hard on the party, she just has work. Phoebe deserves her rest."
Helga held no sympathy for him, though, and Gerald knew that she never would. Gerald and Phoebe had been dating and liking each other long before Arnold and Helga had ever realized their love, but things were always simpler in elementary. There were kids laughing and joking around, but hardly any teasing or hateful judgment. Once High School rolled around things changed for the worse, and Gerald started drifting away from Phoebe out of embarrassment. He was going into sports clubs and getting all sorts of attention from the popular crowd, and her head was always stuck in textbooks and she was the head of the Science and Math Clubs. Being with her made him look ridiculous and he got nervous because of it, so one day he broke up with her, awkwardly in a deserted hallway before walking off and leaving her paralyzed. She'd ended up bawling in the broom closet with Helga afterwards—not that Gerald had ever seen, too busy yucking it up with the jocks. It had taken a lot of begging from Phoebe to keep Helga from ripping off some very vital parts of him for hurting her best friend.
It had been after Arnold had moved so Gerald had no voice of reason to tell him what he'd done wrong. Their break up had lasted two months before he finally couldn't take it anymore and went to her. It had taken a lot but she'd forgiven him after a while, and Gerald flipped off the popular crowd for good and told them calling the most beautiful girl in Hillwood a nerd was "uncool." They'd been together ever since, but though Phoebe had forgiven him, Helga wasn't so at the ready to. Phoebe's heartbroken face plagued her so she was always quick to make sure Gerald never did anything stupid like that ever again. Gerald couldn't blame her for it but he'd wished she'd stop over time and trust him. They were almost in their forties now and she was still holding a grudge. Arnold always said Helga was stubborn—Gerald got that and he knew she was just being a good friend but… damn.
Despite this, though, something like approval seemed to flash in Helga's eyes before she took a step back and put Arnold's arm around her again, leaning contentedly into his side and holding back a yawn. "Good boy." Arnold gave her a soft smile, a bit amused with her antics.
Gerald sighed and rolled his eyes a little, and then was instantly thankful that Helga hadn't noticed he'd done that. Helga was getting more temperamental which meant she was growing exhausted, and he didn't want to be anymore on the receiving end of that for tonight. Coughing, he asked the couple, "You guys look really tired. You thinking 'bout heading out soon?"
Arnold's exhausted brain took a bit longer than usual to process this question, but when it did, he lifted his eyes from Helga to raise an amused eyebrow at his best friend. "Eager to get rid of us, I take it?"
Gerald waved his arm at him, shaking his head. "Not at all! You are by far my favorite lunatics. But everyone is tired…" he hinted in jest, raising his thick eyebrows high on his forehead.
Arnold laughed gently, too tired to do anything more, and just nodded his assent. "Okay, we really should get going anyway. I found Zack passed out on the couch earlier and I think Phil hoarded himself away in the bathroom. The only one with any energy still is Amanda." He raised a brow in Amanda's direction over by the food table, where she was currently shoving a cupcake the size of his fist into her mouth and giggling up a storm. He wasn't sure where Amanda had gotten such an enthusiasm for sweets—he'd always loved them as a kid, just like anyone else, but he'd never gone completely bonkers over the idea of a cookie, and Helga said she never had either. She'd mentioned once that Olga had always had a penchant for sweets when she was younger, and assured him she'd grow out of it, but Arnold wasn't so sure. He was starting to think he might want to limit her babysitting time over at Timberly and Jason's house.
He was snapped out of his tired musings by Gerald's laugh. "All right, man. Good luck with her." He went forward to give them both a warm hug, before pulling back and grabbing Arnold's hand and shaking it firmly. "Take it easy."
"I always try," Arnold said a tad dryly, before showing his smile.
Gerald patted Helga on the shoulder then, leaning down to smirk at her. "Being taller than you will never get old."
Helga scoffed, slapping his hand away from her. "Being able to beat the shit out of a guy twice my size will never get old." She shot him a look that could kill an army.
Gerald backed away slowly, never one to get on Helga's bad side. "Okay. Great way to end the evening." He smiled at them kindly. "Do you want me to go get Phil?"
Arnold laughed, and let go of Helga to head off in the direction of the bathroom. "Nah, it's okay, I won't subject you to his temper. I'll go get him."
Helga smiled at him as he left, waving her hand as she called, "And I'll go round up Zack and Ham! Meet you at the front in five!"
Zack suddenly appeared out of nowhere beside her. "You rang?"
Helga screamed, jumping ten feet in the air and ending up in Zack's arms, breathing heavily. Zack blinked in shock, his jaw falling slack. After a few moments, his brain caught up with the event and a grin sprang across his face. "Criminy, Mom! And people say I overreact!" He burst into wild cackling, hugging his mom to him.
Helga blinked rapidly, until her panicked mind realized what was going on and her face fell dead, as well as her tone. "How does this make any sense?" She shook her head. "It must be the Arnold in you." She pushed out of his arms and scowled, waving her arms at him furiously. "If I've told you once, I've told you a billion times! Don't sneak up on me! You're lucky I didn't punch you out!"
"Oooh," Zack grimaced. "Getting knocked out by your own mom—not good." He laughed at her, before a yawn suddenly broke through his enthusiasm in the joke and his shoulders fell. "Okay, yeah, seriously, let's go home. The last thing I need right now is to collapse to the floor." He looked around himself. "The floor that's in a desperate need of a waxing." He yawned again, his eyes fogging over.
Helga's face softened and she rubbed his back in a motherly gesture, smiling at him sympathetically. "All right, Zacky. You know where Ham is?"
"Josh?" Zack blinked. "Oh, I saw him go home with that girl."
Helga's face flashed murderously. "What girl?"
Zack's serious face suddenly broke into a grin. "Bad joke, sorry."
Helga growled at him, her hand repelling away from him. "Do not kid about my kid, kid!"
Gerald interjected suddenly, startling them as he stepped forward. "If you guys need any help finding Ham, I could—"
"Oh, did you say Ham?" a random teenager suddenly came up to them, his voice abnormally deep and face covered with patchy, brown facial hair, with breath that was so strong with the stench of fish they could smell it even from a distance. Helga couldn't help but grimace at the sight of him. He either didn't notice or didn't care, because he went on, "Like, I saw him head up the hall like, maybe twenty minutes ago? He's probably just in one of the other rooms."
"So informative," Helga praised sardonically, her eyes barely open before they narrowed and she went pounding up the hall, no doubt anxious to get home and crash. Her head suddenly rammed into something hard, before her body slammed into it as well and she went propelling backwards. This wasn't what she meant by crash.
A hand shot out to grab her arm and pulled her upright with ease, and her eyes came into focus a second later to see Arnold smiling at her. "Sorry, Helga."
Helga waved him off distractedly, continuing instantly on her consumption of the hall. "No harm done, love."
Arnold proceeded out of the hallway to see Zack leaning against the wall half-asleep and Gerald nowhere in sight. Standing next to his eldest, he nudged him with his foot, amused. "Zack, you can't fall asleep on the wall. Didn't you get a nap?"
Zack looked up at him almost drearily, rubbing his eyes. "Agh, getting a little bit of sleep only makes me want more sleep." Blinking his eyes several times, he tried to bring his attention more to reality and ended up having his eyes assaulted by madness. Suddenly wide awake, his face nearly split in two from the sheer force of his jaw dropping. "What the—"
Arnold laughed at him quickly, before shushing him as he rocked Phil gently in his arms. Phil just snored in response, flicking at his nose to clear an itch.
Zack blinked very slowly. He had never seen such a sight before. If Phil was awake, he'd be throwing a huge fit and crumbling mountains with stamping feet. He hated being touched, let alone held. Zack could only stare for a few seconds more, before he snapped up straight and grasped at his head, his shaggy hair bursting between his fingertips. "I know nothing of this world!"
Arnold sucked in a breath through his teeth and shushed him quickly, holding Phil absolutely still. Luckily, Phil was in a deep enough sleep that he didn't react. After a tense second or two hundred, Arnold released the breath in a sigh. His face snapped in a glare. "Please. I found him asleep in the bathtub, and I'd like to keep it that way. It's been a tiring enough night."
Zack grinned sheepishly, his face flushing. "Sorry." He clamped a hand over his mouth and leaned against the wall then, clenching his eyes almost painfully shut. He just tried to keep his laughter silent. He wished he had a camera. His eyes popped open suddenly, and his hand was in his pocket before he could even think to put it there. He pulled out his cell phone and instantly began snapping pictures, doing all sorts of odd poses as he did so. He spoke in a hushed tone, grinning, "Oh, yeah, work it, Dad—this is so going in Vogue. Fabulous!"
Arnold rolled his eyes.
"All right, losers, let's get the flipping hell out of here!" Helga's voice boomed as she made her unexpected entrance, nearly dragging Ham by his shirt as she flew none-too-gracefully across the room to the door. She didn't notice Arnold holding Phil though, unfortunately, and he woke with a startled yelp and ended up practically smashing his father's nose into the back of his skull when his arms flew up. Arms flailing and face terrified, he shoved out of Arnold's arms on instinct and slammed into the floor. The event left Arnold rubbing his nose and Phil groaning on the floor, rubbing his back.
Zack brought the camera away from his face with a grin that could put the moon to shame. "Holy crap, I got all of that!" Laughter poured out of him in gallons as he looked through all the pictures he'd gotten. "I could make a flip book! Ohhhh, I'm going to make posters and hang them up all over his school! This is absolute comedy gold!" He chortled at one of the pictures, slapping his forehead. "Oh, geez, his face!"
Phil could hardly come to grips with the fact he was conscious, let alone the meaning of Zack's words. He blinked up at him wildly, his mouth open and hair completely covering one half of his face. "What—What—What—" His face turned red and he snapped his head to the rest of his family. "What the heck is the idiot going on about now?"
Zack just chuckled, still too enthused with the pictures of him on his phone to look at the actual him. He turned away, still browsing through his phone. "Oh, certain doom, Philly, just certain doom."
Phil just gaped at him stupidly, brain half dead and all discombobulated from his fall.
Helga impatiently grabbed Zack by his ear and pulled him over next to her and a dazed Ham, practically breathing fire, "Enough games, Zachary! I want to get the hell out of here, and I want to do it now—"
Taro suddenly came running at them, waving his arm and grinning. "Hey, you guys!"
Helga slapped her forehead, breathing sarcastically, "Oh, of course. Of course he'd show up now, what other time would be more perfect—"
"Zack!" Taro screeched to a halt and lifted the younger teen up off the floor in a crushing hug, making him squeak, before he let him back down on the floor and slapped him on the back, nearly toppling him over. "Thanks for coming!"
Zack wheezed slightly, rubbing the back of his head as he forced a tired grin onto his face for his long-time friend. "Wouldn't have missed it for the world." Blinking, he put a hand up with a devilish smirk, "Now the universe, however—"
Taro just rolled his eyes and interrupted him quick, "Whatever you say, Zack. Just shut up. Consider that my birthday present."
Zack's smirk increased and he promptly threw the lock to his mouth over his shoulder before folding his hands behind his back.
Taro just gave him an amused half-look before he shot a grin at Arnold. "Mr. Shortman." He saluted him, before turning his eyes solemnly on Helga. "Mrs. Shortman." Helga just gave him a very odd look, half her teeth and gums in view and eyes flat.
"Taro," Ham grinned at him, stepping forward to practically pound him on his back, almost making him fall over this time. It was a weird sort of game Zack had noticed his brother and the rest of the jocks liked to play—who could kill whoever else the most thoroughly with just a pat on the back. At first it had been funny, before they started doing it on other people too, namely him. Zack knew they got a kick out of it behind his back, and he'd made a mental note to correct this fact. He'd been too busy for a long time, though, but with Taro going off to college soon, he knew he'd better come up with something soon. This whole "mashing Zack into the wall" thing really wasn't going to work.
Taro grinned at Ham. "Ahhh, don't give me any of this formal nonsense, gimme a hug!" He grabbed him up and hugged him hard, which Ham did his level best to match in enthusiasm. Taro dropped him back down then and screwed up Ham's hair, chuckling. "Always great to see you, Hammy. I'm going to miss you."
Ham ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face and smiled at Taro, nodding his head. "I'm going to miss you too. You'll visit on Christmas?"
"Of course." He put his hands together and bowed to the family respectfully. "Sayounara, watashi no tomodachi. Odaiji ni."
They all bowed awkwardly back, somehow always caught off guard by the need to.
Helga was the first to stand back up straight and she tried to hide her scowl, failed, and flew around to practically kick the door off it's hinges in her desperation to get out. "All righty! That's enough talking! Have fun being seventeen, Birthday Boy, I know I didn't have nearly as much fun as you when I was your age, so be grateful." She grabbed Ham and Zack by the back of their collars and proceeded to drag them out across the yard then, ignoring their backward, panicked stumbling.
Arnold blinked at all this, before he flashed a kind smile to Taro as he reached down to help Phil up off the floor. "Really, happy birthday, Taro. I hope you enjoyed your party, 'cause your parents worked really hard on it."
Taro beamed at him. "I know. I helped."
Arnold blinked in surprise. "You did?"
He laughed a little, nodding his head. "Of course. I'm the one who decorated the cake and made all the lanterns, also I helped put the banner up. This kind of doubled as my farewell party, so it was important to me." He smiled. "I couldn't just let my parents do all the work. I mean, my mom has to get up early tomorrow." Checking his watch, his smile turned sheepish. "Or, today, I suppose I should say."
Arnold stared at him a moment, before a warm smile spread across his face and he reached over to pat Taro on the shoulder. "You're a good kid, Taro, don't ever change." Seeing that Phil had nearly passed out against his legs during this little conversation, Arnold tentatively reached down to pull him back up into his arms. Surprisingly, he didn't object; just rested his head against his chest and fell back to sleep. Arnold felt his chest swell.
This was shattered by Helga's screech, "Football Head! I wanna go home!"
Arnold quickly shuffled out of the door, throwing Taro back one last smile. He just laughed at him and shut the door, enveloping the two fully in the darkness of night.
Zack popped the back door open for him and couldn't help but gawk as he saw him holding Phil again. He almost reached for his phone, but Phil suddenly snapped his eyes open and glared at him, so he just grinned and let it be. As Arnold eased Phil into the back of the car, Phil made sure to sit as far away from Zack as he possibly could in the restrictive space. They all twitched as the car door slammed shut, and Arnold walked over to sit in the front seat beside Helga. With the key already ready in the ignition, Helga asked briskly, "Okay, we got everyone here? Nobody has to use the bathroom or anything? 'Cause it's a long way home, and I sure as hell am not stopping for a f—"
"Whoa, wait a minute!" Zack flew forward to look at his parents with eyes the size of Manhattan. "Where's Amanda Faith?"
Both Arnold and Helga paused at this, and there was a moment of periods flying through the air before Arnold was suddenly ripping the car door off it's hinges and stumbling, tripping, and racing to the front of the house again in pure horror. "Oh, my God!"
The door flew open just before his hand managed to make contact, and Gerald stood there with a hilarious look on his face and a hand on Amanda's shoulder as she blinked her wide green eyes up at her father. Arnold screeched to a halt and immediately fell to his knees, grabbing Amanda to him in a hug. "Oh, Amanda, thank goodness! I'm so, so sorry!"
Gerald chortled. "Forget something, Shortman?"
Arnold couldn't help it. He pulled back from Amanda just enough to send a death glare at Gerald, a look that was always unnerving to see on Arnold's face, before his eyes zipped back down in concern to take in every freckle on Amanda's pale face. Sweeping her sunshiney bangs from her forehead, he asked shamefully, "Can you ever forgive me?"
Amanda could do nothing but blink for a few painstaking seconds, before one of her soft, easily forgiving smiles colored her face. "Of course, Daddy." Her hand came up to offer him something wrapped and covered in frosting, grinning. "Cupcake?"
A/N: Nothing says "You are forgiven" like cupcakes. xD
I got Chocolate Boy's name from wiki, but Idk if it's accurate or not because I never heard his name on the show (I don't think). But it sounded more right to me than "Jordan," so I ran with it. Let me know if there are errors anywhere in his mention. I haven't watched that episode in a long time.
Taro Japanese rough translation (it's been a while since I wrote that, lol): Goodbye, my friends. Bless you.
Idk if that's right or not, I did some Googling to find it and that has people on it and I don't trust people, so eh. You get it.
If you wanted to help me reach a 100 reviews, I'd love you forever... *Big eyes* I'm posting the next part today! :)
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