Please read the bottom note when you finish, if you can! Thanks for all the reviews, even the angry ones. It motivated me to finish this waaay sooner than intended.
Just come to the party, Helga. I won't let anyone hurt you. I could probably help you forget the bastard that touched you, too, if you let me try. Heal you a bit at a time like a real doctor.
Those are the thoughts I will into the night as I hop out of the Uber that leaves me in front of a massive house. Everyone else was taking their sweet time at home, meanwhile I had to leave my very part-time job as a cashier at Blick's art supplies to head straight here.
It's chilly, a merciful forty five degree night as far as my cell is concerned, but it doesn't stop girls in short costumes from littering the front lawn as they arrive. Sexy fairies, sexy nurses... hell, I wouldn't be surprised if I saw a sexy burrito costume at this point.
I walk in to a crowd of people with enough mixed body heat between them to hatch a baby chick early. Sheesh. They weren't kidding about this being such a big event. I make my way past strangers and a few of the faces I recognize from class. The kitchen has a bar of it's own piled onto the island in the middle: I see Grey Goose, Captain Morgan, five different types of beer, four different colors of wine, and enough chasers to make almost anything imaginable. And that's just what I recognize. God only knows what's in the other crazy looking bottles Ive never seen before.
I grab a red plastic cup and contemplate what to drink for a bit, stopping to text Gerald and Lee in a group chat. I send a few fire and thumbs-up emojis so they know the party is worth the trip.
"You look like a coke and henny kinda guy." A voice- female and rich- decides from beside me.
Whoa.
Her hair is on fire; the red of it is vibrant and glossy as hell, that is. She's decked out in fake leather save her finger tips and the bottom half of her face. And she's so damn curvy. At first I'm not even sure she's talking to me. It's not that I think myself ugly or anything, but girls like that don't tend to go for me.
"You're like the creme de la creme of white boys, Arnold." Lee had clapped me on the back once after one of our first nights out, in which I'd been all but ignored by this long haired hispanic chick. "You wouldn't know your Marc Anthony from your Prince Royce, and that upsets them."
"I bartend part time," she grins. I then notice that her mask ends in little cat eared points. "So I have a knack for drink picking. How about it?"
Catwoman is a full head shorter than me. But despite being so randomly straightfoward she seems friendly, not sleazy. So I smile back politely. "I don't usually have more than beer or vodka."
"You're telling me you came to this booze paradise and you're gonna walk away con solo una fria? Sorry, I meant just a beer. The spanish slips out too often when I drink. My name's Ariella, by the way. I prefer Ari if it's all the same to you."
I laugh. She's got alot of energy. "Arnold. Okay, fine. I'll try it, that drink you mentioned."
"Haha,"she makes a fist of triumph. "You don't look like you've ever come anywhere close to this stuff so I'll go easy on the cognac. This'll be some real gangster shit to you, probably." She starts pouring soda over this dark brown alcohol. "I kid. Just stay the hell away from the unlabled bottles. It's moonshine and a baby like you will die."
"A baby? That's what you look like from way up here." I spit out without meaning to.
"Ooh, he's sassy! I like it!" She shoves a red cup at me. "Here. Taste one of life's simplicities. You aren't a freshman or something, are you?"
I take a sip. It's a stronger flavor than what I normally have, but goes fine with the coke. It's good, and the heat of the drink warms my throat and stomach. Good thing I ate before coming. "Nah. Sophomore."
"Ah, okay. You can take care of yourself then."
"Are you by yourself or...?"
"Yeah, my girl was supposed to meet me here and then bailed to go hang with some guy. What are you gonna do? I didn't squeeze into this shit to go back home. Who are you dressed like?"
"A doctor from a wierd show."
"I believe it!" Ariella laughs, head tossed back. "But it works on you. The trench coat is dope. I was half expecting you to be the crazy ass that shows up trying to sell people drugs, but when I got a better look at you you just seemed lost."
"Yeah. I'm waiting on some friends of mine for now."
She pours herself some vodka and juice. "Nice. Well how about we be party buddies. At least until one of us needs to split."
"Well... alright. Why not. Not like I know many people here."
"I know enough, but aquaintances don't always make for good convo, know what I mean?"
I down the rest of my drink and hand her the cup with a grin. "Yeah. Another drink please, Catwoman."
"A la orden, doctor!" She laughs in that wild way of hers and hands me a refill. "Now let's go find a place to be outcasts."
We find unoccupied space on a pretty plush couch and sit. After a while she giggles at me with a smug face. "Diablo. Who has you around her pinky, huh? And don't tell me it isn't a girl. I know those faces. You've reached for your phone a hundred times in the last five minutes."
The coke and henny slosh in my stomach, making me feel wavy. Hazy, but in a nice way. The relaxed, who gives a fuck sort of blur setting in.
"Damn. You really are good."
"I knooow. So who is she? You're a looker so I bet she's pretty, huh."
"She is. But she's my childhood friend."
"Oooh. Friendzone issues?"
"No... I mean, I don't know. I'm like... attracted to her. Really badly. But I don't think telling her is worth losing her. That make sense?"
"Yes, yes. Slow down you. That's the last cup you get until later. Man... you're sweet, Arnold. And good looking. Just tell her."
"We can't all be as crazy blunt as you, Ari." I chuckle. My voice sounds low as fuck. I'm well on my way to drunk.
"So you're just gonna have blue balls over her forever? Geez. You really are cute. Too pure for this world. I bet you're still a virgin and everything, on some Notebook shit." Ariella cackles.
"What makes you think that?" I hear myself growl. Shit. She wouldn't be talking like that if she was under me, that's for sure.
"I was teasing, blondy. Calmate. I'm sure you're fine."
"Which it then, Catwoman. Am I a virgin or aren't I?"
It's then that I notice everything. The way so many people are paired off and sucking face in every corner of the room. Couples of every gender sneaking touches and laughing drunkenly. The kind of college party you only ever hear about but never see for yourself.
Damn.
Ariella's hip is right near mine- thick and lush- to the point where I can feel the heat of her skin through the costume.
"Is that an invitation?" She asks in a low purr, her dark eyes shining in the fuck or be fucked lighting.
Suddenly the weight of her is straddled over my lap. "I'll be straightfoward with you. I'm not some party whore who lurks in corners waiting to devour people. But I do have needs. And if you've gone without as long as I think we both have, it could be nice. I'm not looking for any hand holding bullshit right now. Broken hearts take a while to heal, ya know?"
"I hear you."
I look her over. She's pretty and warm and real, and my dick's already waking up from its hundred year slumber right beneath her. Our gazes are unsteady on each other as we both become a couple of drunken decisions in the heat of it all.
Minutes later I find myself tangled with a girl I barely know, and while it wouldn't be the first time, it's definitely one of the few. My mind is practically gone. All I feel is handfuls of ass... her mouth tastes like pineapple and liquor... she's whispering some very dirty words. It's only a matter of time.
We make it to a bathroom so she can grip the sink and arch her back like a real cat. I don't even know who puts the condom on me. Ari is tight, the kind of wet vice a girl only gets after a little while of celibacy. My head spins and I groan at the slap that echoes every time I thrust foward.
"...There!" She begs with a hiss, so I give it to her. Grab her where neck joins shoulder and pull her body into the tightest bow against me. The way her pussy clenches at that... fuck. Red hair shifts again and again. I know that little cry. She's close already. Pushing back against me and dragging me with her. I slam into it with clenched teeth.
One.
Two.
ThreeFourFiveSix...
There we go. She's crying out shit I can't understand or give a fuck about because I'm coming, too. Pulling out as it happens and panting up at the ceiling. After a while we look at each other and laugh.
"Do that to her," Ariella pants in a rough voice, "and she might throw friendship out the window. Damn, I needed that."
"I think I did too."
Once we're more or less put together we walk out of the bathroom with as much nonchalance as two newly sexed up people can muster. I reach for my phone. Three missed calls from Helga. A picture of her looking beautiful as ever in a pink skirt, dressed up just like Rose.
Fuck my life.
A: Helga? Did you leave? I didn't know you were gonna come! Where are you?
A: Hello? You home safe?
A: ?
Helga doesn't respond to a single text or call.
Two weeks go by without so much as a word from Helga, the November weather cooling down as if to match her sudden lack of communication with me. Even Phoebe doesn't know what happened. Only that Helga left as quickly as she got there, assuring her that she'd gotten home safe by snapping her a picture of her cat Nymph sitting on top of her heels. We're all sitting together for lunch, sans our missing blonde, when I feel a flick at my neck.
"Who the-?"
"What up doc?"
It's Ari, her heart shaped face no longer obscured by black. Her lips match her hair and she looks even smaller than I remember, all wrapped up in jeans and a sweater that might be a bit big on purpose.
"Hi." She waves at everyone. "I'm Ari. Met this lost little lamb at the Halloween party. Just thought I'd be awkward and say hola."
Questions get exchanged. She's a junior. Fashion design major and marketing minor. Works at a bar her aunt owns, so she can get away with bartending even though she won't be twenty one until March. Has an upcoming fashion show she's been making outfits for which is why four out of her ten fingers sport bandages. She leans over Lee's shoulder and her eyes light up at his sketches. Asks him if he might want to collab on some video game inspired clothing designs, because his are badass. They tentatively trade facebooks and then she runs off. Thankfully everyone waits till Ari's gone to interogate me.
Gerald covers Phoebe's ears against a squeal of 'Your hands are freezing!'
"Whoa, whoa, whoaaa. Did you hit that?"
"At the party?" Lee chimes in. "You dirty dog!"
I sigh a puff of air into the cold. "Yeah, okay? That a crime?"
"Oh shit. Maybe Helga knows, you idiot!"
Phoebe pulls away from Gerald and looks at me. Hard. Like if looks could kill I'd be dead yesterday.
"You're an ass, Arnold. I know you're just friends but-"
"But what, Pheebs? Something not being said here?" Lee asks softly.
"Ugh! It's not for me to say! If you really are Helga's friend you talk to her! I don't care how you do it, just do it! If you can't be her friend for whatever reason, tell her so! You're both so ridiculous..."
"Whoa, boo. Calm down." Gerald tries to soothe her.
"She's my best friend. I will not calm down untill they stop acting so... so crosseyed!"
"Crosseyed?" I murmur hesitantly. Phoebe has gotten pretty scary on the low. Jesus.
"It's her nice way of calling you both dumbasses." Gerald clarifies with a smirk.
"I'm going to text you a time and place and I want you to show up there, alright?" The little spitfire glares at me. "She'll be there and so will I. And don't say you can't. I'm already pissed off enough as it is. I didn't expect all of this drama."
The guys all look from her to me and stare. "... Yes ma'am."
I guess I'd better start panicking.
My handwriting is neat and girly. Pressed onto the page with angry stokes and miserable loops. When was the last time I felt this way? And why now? It's not like he belongs to me. 'But it's not like you don't want him to. Even just a bit.' My mind throws back at me. Is it possible to hate the rational, honest part of yourself this much?
Texts come nearly everyday, and everyday I ignore them. I'm not a good friend. Friends don't get jealous of their friend's sexcapades. They don't cross Ariel off their favorite Disney Princess list just because they saw their friend hook up with a redhead. A real friend would cheer him on for getting some. Not be bothered that he did.
'You are bothered though.' And I am. It makes me itch on the inside to picture Arnold with that girl, and there's a hundred reasons why. She looked nothing like me. Shaped like every man's quintessential coke-bottle dream babe. Is that his type then? She wasn't afraid to tell him what she wanted. And she got to do things I'd only ever pictured fleetingly. I can't unsee it. Can't stop wishing it was me, if I'm honest. Wondering what his too-white teeth would feel like on my lip, how his hands would feel sliding against me.
What his dick would feel like rocking between my legs, instead.
A guy as sweet as Arnold became a rough, hungry man right before my eyes that night, and some part of me wants to know him that way. That and every dorky, artistic, old-fashioned facet of him. God... what is wrong with me? How can I like him this much again?
I text him real quick. Finally.
H: Hey. My bad, I've been busy lately. When I got to the party you seemed, uhh, busy yourself so I went home. Nbd. Way to work that charm, Shortman ;)
Being a good friend fucking hurts.
I toss my phone next to my notebook. Onto an unfinished poem I've been mulling over for a few days. There's not much time left before the Slam, and I'm no where close to making it sound... real enough.
Golden locket
I kept in my pocket
I pressed to my chest
And wore like a chain
Heart shaped weight
That halted my gait
I lifted you free
Never wore you again
Face I remember
Made me a pretender
How is it I still
Feel you under my skin?
Love unrequited
That life quickly smited
Has wandered before me
Like memories lost
Golden locket
Rolled onto my sleeve
Could it be
That's where I now wear you?
Love so simple a thing
That you've started to sing
Back to life
With no one to guide you?
An old, tarnished locket glimmers beneath the small lamp on my desk, beside my pencil and phone. The screen of my cell lights up after a few minutes.
A: Helga I'm so damn sorry. I wanted you to come so we could have fun. Not so you could walk in on me... doing that. Just because we're friends doesn't mean it wasn't wrong. I promised to keep you company if you showed up. I just had no idea you were going to. You're costume was beautiful. I'm an idiot. Can you please forgive a friend for scarring your innocent eyes? Please?
I smile but the pain is still there.
H: Yeah, yeah, you hornball. Apology half accepted
A: Half?
H: You had me in heels for no reason. So yes, half. You have some making up to do. Good luck
A: Challenge accepted
A: I missed talking to you. Is that odd?
H: Do you think it's odd?
A: I think I'm just glad to hear from you again. I'm already used to having you back
H: Me too
That night I dream of Arnold, sweat glazed and gorgeous, ruining me from head to toe. Lust or the beginning of love... I don't freaking know. But I touch myself to his imaginary moans in the dark and come with a blanket between my teeth, shivering for a man who I'm learning to want all over again.
This time more intensely than before.
Oh my gosh. Guys. I'm sorry you all hated how the last chapter ended so let's have a little heart to heart for a sec. Keep in mind I've been on both ends of that kind of situation, so flame me if you like, but at least know I've lived it. Yes, Arnold and Helga are interested in each other. However, neither has actually said so to the other. They're both ultimately unsure about their feelings. They've established a foundation of friendship that neither is willing to ruin, therefore making it clear there is NOTHING going on between them. They are not boyfriend or girlfriend, or even dating. Being attracted to someone doesn't make them yours! Also keep in mind that Arnold is drinking and is human. He's crushing on a girl he's certain he can't have and met someone who gets what that feels like in some way. His timing was just shit. It's called life, my dears, and it happens. Sometimes it's ugly. Have faith. I'm not writing this to keep them apart! :) *hugs*
Ps: I'm not going to argue with anyone about what is morally right and wrong here. Everyone's life is different and this is just a story. If you want uncontested fluff I'm sure this site can fufill those needs with other fics? I'm not sure if I like the format of this story compared to others I've written, so I'd love some thoughts on that rather than how much you hate Ari lol. Thanks peeps!
Rant over!