(A/N: Hey guys! Just wanted to thank you all again for reading and reviewing! Believe it or not, you guys are what's pushing me to continue writing. Sorry if there are grammar issues here n there, I tend to forget to put apostrophes... and only write on wordpad so I don't have spell check to help me out ;; Plan on getting it though! Anyway, You're all my inspiration~ Enjoy!)
"I just don't understand it..." Miles said as he sat down in the living room with his wife and parents. Dinner had recently concluded and Arnold had just retired to his room for the evening, leaving the adults to entertain themselves without him.
"Well, what's there to understand, Son?" Phil asked, as he got comfortable in his lounge chair. "He's a growing boy! You weren't always open and honest with your mother and I at times, right Pookie?"
Gerty smiled and rested her hand on her son's shoulder, who sat next to her on the worn sofa. "He's right you know, Miles. Let Arnold decide for himself when he will come to you."
Letting out another frustrated sigh, the adult male slouched back like a stubborn child and crossed his arms, causing his wife to smile at her childish looking partner. "He will come to us when he's ready, dear. Just be patient. You're acting more his age then even he is right now." she laughed softly, hoping he would come to terms with the situation.
Miles peered over at Stella, eyes full of hurt and confusion. "How can you not be worried?"
Stella shook her head and rested her hand on his knee. She looked into her husband's eyes with concern, understanding full well the deep rooted frustration he was feeling. "I am just as worried as you are, but getting all upset like this won't solve anything. He's just a boy, Miles. You can't just expect Arnold to confide all his intimate struggles with us just yet."
"I agree..." Phil chimed in with a wary tone, causing all attention in the room to focus on him. "Arnold isn't a complicated lad. He is normally pretty open and honest with us when he feels it's needed so I wouldn't worry too much about it." The old man took a swig of his iced tea before continuing. "And not for nothing, and I mean this with all the love in the world, but you just came back into his life. It's going to take time for young Arnold to come around and adapt. He's growing up pretty quick with all those hormones n' stuff kicking in right about now..." He finished as he gave a warm smile to his son that was now giving him a nervous look. "You know what I'm talking about..."
"Dad!" Miles groaned, shutting his eyes and dreading the thought, causing Gerty to laugh alongside her husband.
"Ahh... the good old days..." She smiled lovingly towards Phil, reminiscing of long days past. "You were quite a handful yourself, young man."
"Yeah. Always getting into trouble with the neighborhood kids. Picking on little girls and stealing their dolls..." Phil mused to his wife.
"Putting tacks on their seats, kicking their marbles all over the floor... Rolling them in honey and sticking them on top of ant hills..." Gerty continued fondly, clutching her hands over her heart.
"No, Pookie that was you." Phil interrupted.
Gerty put her hand thoughtfully on her chin and cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, was it?"
Stella couldn't help but laugh at their ramblings of the past and tried to imagine her husband a child picking on kids. "Did you really do all that, Miles?"
"Of course not!" He stood up and cried, waving his hands in the air. "I was a wonderful child, thank you very much!"
"Uh huh... You're definitely you're mother's son..." Phil mumbled to himself before taking a bite of an oatmeal raisin cookie and washing it down with another swig of iced tea. "The point is, let Arnold have his privacy and he'll eventually come to you. He's a good boy."
After a few more discussions, the couple had decided it was time for their own retirement and bid their parents a good night. Gradually they made their way to their room, worries still hot in their mind. It was natural for them to feel this way. After years of separation from their beloved son, they were finally back home where they belonged but didn't anticipate that adjusting would be this hard. Sure, it was nice thinking that everything to just work out and they could pick up where they left off... however, it wasn't realistic. Arnold was on the verge of becoming twelve years old... and they left when he was just starting to walk on his own. The gap was far too large to be sealed with only a mere 3 months of reconnecting to fill. They understood his feelings yet it was too painful for them to accept.
Stella laid down on the bed and Miles followed. Gazing over at her loving husband, a tender smile graced her lips as she placed her hand on his head and began to pat his hair down gently. He looked up at her and gingerly smiled back. Through sickness and in health, through good times and bad, through triumphs and failures, and now even venturing into unknown territories such as parenting a pre-teen boy whose life they had missed out on entirely.
"We'll get through this, dear" She said, running her fingers through his thick blonde hair. "We've gotten through worse."
Miles couldn't help but give a small laugh. "Running away from river pirates was pretty bad but so are pre-pubescent hormones." He shuttered, causing her to laugh a little herself.
"I was a child once before too, you know. I understand that growing up isn't easy and that my parents had a lot on their plate also, but I also know that Arnold went through a lot to find us. He wouldn't have done all of that if he didn't want us in his life, right?" Stella reassured, determined to bring her husband around to a lighter point of view. "He risked his and his friend's lives to be with us, Miles..."
"I know..." He whispered back before picking himself up and positioning himself better to properly look at his beautiful wife. He looked into her strong brown eyes and could feel their connection. This was the woman that he planned to be with forever and this was one of the reasons why. Stella was always the more level headed of the two, while he would always be the one jumping to conclusions and stumbling into bad situations. Bringing up a hand, he lovingly stroked the side of her cheek. "What would I do without you?" He asked tenderly.
Stella let out a loud laugh. "Probably be dead in a ditch, honestly." She grinned.
Letting out a sigh of defeat, Miles leaned in and kissed her. "You're 100% correct, as always..." He groaned. After a moment of self reflection, Miles decided that she was right. Worrying so much about Arnold not confiding in them wouldn't do either of them any good; however there was another thing that was pressing in his mind and Stella could see it clear as day.
"So what's the other thing bothering you?" She asked as she read his face.
Miles let out another sigh and let his body collapse back on down, causing the bed to give a little shake before returning stationary. "What's your opinion on his little girlfriend?" He asked curiously.
"Well..." Stella started, thinking to herself a moment "She must really love him if she risked her life alongside him to free us from that long sleep."
Miles nodded. "Yeah. That's a pretty strong love for such a young girl to do all that for him."
Both of them began to reflect on things Arnold had told them about her. All the good and the bad.
"Even more so of a reason that we shouldn't be so worried, Miles. It seems she has done a pretty good job in helping him grow up as well. Her intentions must be good, so whatever happened between them tonight probably isn't going to be all that serious." Stella coaxed. "I'm sure they will talk tomorrow and everything will be fine."
Suddenly, Miles burst into an all out laugher, causing Stella to jump. "What?! What is it?" She demanded, however her voice was only drowned out by the continuous laughter. "Miles!" She insisted, as she gave him a sharp jab in the stomach, causing his laughter to halt and turn into painful coughing.
"Ah... hah, Not so rough, Stella!" He winced out. "It's just..."
"Yes?" She insisted.
"It's just, looking back on all the things Arnold has told us about her... They actually sound a lot like my parents when they were young! Like, pretty spot on!" He explained through the pain.
Stella gave him a curious look. "How?"
With the pain subsiding, Miles then went through the long explanation of his parents past, not leaving out any of the key details that his dad had given him many many years before. While he explained, Stella's eyes widened in astonishment and soon they were both laughing.
There she stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking a calm sea below. The waved crashed gently over the rocks below and he could hear seagulls crying in the distance. Her hair pulled back by one pink ribbon that was blowing with the sea breeze. Arnold could feel his heart start to thump in his chest as he gazed upon her. "Helga..." He breathed as he willed his body to walk forwards. She had on a white sundress with lace surrounding its outlines, and what looked like pearls around her neck. Had she always looked this beautiful? Why was she there? Arnold looked around and could see they were alone. Nothing and no one around for miles accept the ocean, sand and trees. As he got closer, he could see her expression. Her eyes looked out at the sea in a longing type of way, but on her lips wore a solemn frown. "Helga, what's wrong?" He proceeded to ask, but words wouldn't leave his lips. No matter how hard he tried to talk to her, his words could not reach her.
The boy then noticed something inside her hand. It was a small gold shaped locket, one he had seen a few times before now. Helga brought the locket up to her eyes and smiled. Softly, she began to speak words but Arnold couldn't hear them. All that could be heard was the crashing of waves below. "What's going on?!" He demanded.
Arnold's heart began to throb intensely. With all his might, he tried to yell to her but still nothing happened. He then reached out to touch her and much to his surprise, his hand went right through her body. "Am I a ghost or something?" He wondered.
Suddenly, the sky went black and the scenery changed around them into a dark void. Startled, Arnold looked around frantically. Helga remained standing in the same position with the same expression. "What the...?" but before he could finish the thought, the large head of Big Bob Pataki emerged from the pitch black.
"Olga! What are you doing standing around?! Sell my beepers, young lady!" He demanded and seconds later, more heads of Bob emerged from the darkness and began shouting at her.
"We're gonna be rich!"
"We're gonna be on top again, just you wait and see!"
"Pataki's never fail!"
"Go out there and make me some money!"
"I don't care if you have to sleep outside in the cold, little missy! You're gonna sell our beepers until we make it big!"
Arnold turned back around and looked at Helga. Her appearance had changed from her brilliant outfit to rags and a hand full of beepers.
"Yes, Bob." He heard her utter, however the Bobs never stopped demanding.
One after another they continued to demand unfair, unrealistic expectations of the poor girl. After each demand, the heads would grow larger and Helga would grow smaller.
Arnold desperately reached out to grab her away from it all, but further and further away her body became. "Nooo!" Arnold shouted as he began to run after her ever fleeting body.
Arnold awoke that morning in a cold sweat on the floor of his room, tangled up in his blanket. After blinking a few times and catching his breath, the young boy forced his body to stand on his two feet and he looked around in a daze; heart still pounding.
"What was that...?" He asked himself out loud. He was known for having pretty far out there dreams but never ones that affected him like this. He could feel the cold sweat drip down the back of his neck and quickly he wiped it off with his hand.
Next he looked over at the clock. It was only moments before his alarm would regularly go off to indicate he wake up for school. Arnold slowly walked over to it and disabled the alarm to keep it from needlessly sounding. Deciding that it would be best to forget the dream for now, he forced himself to get ready for school.
Breakfast went on as it usually did, however it felt surreal to him; as if it all was happening in the background as opposed to really happening. He ate his food, had casual conversation with his family, and dodged flying objects from loud and obnoxious borders causing a scene.
After saying his goodbyes to them all, he met Gerald outside his house per usual, collected Helga and Phoebe at the usual intersection and made it to school. Not once did the dream cease from nagging him from the back of his head.
"Arnold, you okay buddy?" Gerald asked, stopping him just outside the schools large front doors, letting the girls walk inside ahead of them. "You've been quiet all morning. Something bugging you?"
Knowing it was impossible to explain a dream like that to his best friend, Arnold shrugged his actions off. "I'm fine, Gerald. I guess I just didn't sleep all that well last night." He only half lied.
Gerald looked at him for a moment curiously. "Did something happen between you and Helga yesterday?"
Arnold shook his head. "No, nothing worth mentioning..." He said un-interestingly as he opened the doors for the both of them and entered.
"Uh huh..." Gerald replied, clearly unconvinced.
The walk to the class was quiet as Gerald gave up trying to get anything of substance out of the boy and soon they entered their room and sat at their assigned seats. Mr. Simmons came in shortly after and began teaching his usual routine.
The lectures were all a blur, like white noise in the background as Arnold stared off into space, with his head propped up on his hand. Images of the dream still ever present in his mind, the guilt he felt about rejecting his parents comfort as well as partially keeping his feelings secret from Gerald too... It was all a lot to take in at the moment. Still, he managed to take notes and follow along as well as he could during the teaching period. Soon the bell rang and the class burst through the classroom doors in anticipation for lunch. Arnold slowly rose from his chair and grabbed his bag, noticing a presence behind him. Gerald stood patiently at the end of the desk rows, waiting for his best friend to hurry up.
"Come on, Arnold. I'm starving!" He signaled after placing his fist on his hip.
Arnold smiled and nodded, feeling a little bit better now that some time had passed. He finished gathering his things and rushed out of the room with his companion close by. Mustering up what little he could, Arnold gave a wary sigh and looked over at his best friend who knew the confession was coming.
"I'm sorry, Gerald..." The young blonde boy started, looking ever so regretful.
"Uh huh, sorry about what?" Gerald joked, knowing it would only push the boy forward.
Arnold adjusted his backpack in effort to get more comfortable, even though it physically wasn't really bothering him. "I know we have no secrets between us so I'll just come right out and say it, okay?" He started and Gerald smiled in response.
"Last night... after I called you and the others to help with our project, Helga and I got to talking and..." He slowly trailed off, gripping his backpack tighter for some sort of support.
"And...?" Gerald mimicked, not letting his best friend off the hook.
"And...! Well..." Arnold suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway as they got close to the cafeteria. This wasn't a conversation that needed to be brought in the ears of their classmates. He gave Gerald and anxious look before continuing. "Her home life isn't really great. It's why I decided to make her family business our project..."
"Yeah, I know. So what? We're gonna help fix it and everything will be cool, right?" Gerald replied, now sort of confused at why Arnold was dragging the subject along.
Arnold scratched the back of his arm. "Well, I really didn't have her consent to do all this... sorta just pushed her to let me."
Gerald shook his head, although not totally surprised to hear that Arnold was going about saving her in his own way. "Pushed her?" Gerald said in an exhausted tone.
"Well, yeah..." Arnold lowered his head in shame.
"Mm, mm, mm..." Gerald scolded. "Now let me guess, you guys had a fight because she didn't want you snooping into her Private Affairs and, instead of backing down like a normal person would, you insisted on doing this until she gave in?" The dark skin boy paused to let out a heavy sigh. "When are you gonna learn, Arnold? I know you mean well, you're always Mr. Problem solver! But like I said to you before, some people can't JUST be saved! If she doesn't want you to help, why fight with her about it?"
"Well it wasn't exactly a fight!" Arnold exclaimed, causing his friend to widen his eyes in both shock and genuine surprise. "I mean, I guess it was... at first! But it didn't end like that... I guess...?" Arnold could feel the doubt raising forward and realized he really didn't have much to stand on in this explanation. "I dunno..."
Suddenly Arnold felt his friend's hand firmly grasp his shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze of encouragement and causing him to look back up again.
"Just continue... It can't be all that bad, surely." Gerald coaxed, giving a small smile and hoping his friend would continue to get whatever it was off his chest, even if this was now getting to be a bit redundant.
"Okay..." Arnold breathed. "We talked for a little while and I think I got her to really open up to me. It was only just for a little while, but then my parents interrupted to bring us cookies and she used that as a way of escape."
"Sounds like something she'd do." Gerald mused with a smirk. "So what, you don't know how to approach her now or something?"
"It's not that." Arnold shook his head, and looked up at his friend in desperation. "After that, I had this really crazy dream where she was being enslaved by her dad! It was really bad; Gerald and now I feel like I need to help her even more than before!" He finally finished.
Gerald let go of his friends shoulder and propped both hands on his hips before looking away in a moment's thought. He could understand why Arnold was feeling conflicted about something and wanted to relieve him of this pressure but how...?
"Okay Arnold, how about this..." The tall hair boy started. "You aren't going to bring up the topic to her again because you know damn well she will just avoid it. She IS the master at hiding stuff, after all. I mean, she hid how she felt for you for how long? So just carry on with your day like nothing ever happened last night and this includes the dream that you absolutely will NOT tell her about. Got that?" Gerald said sternly as he poked Arnold in the chest to solidify his intentions were serious.
"But why? Shouldn't I be honest with her?" Arnold replied, confused.
"Of course you should but sometimes... you gotta know when and where to bring stuff up. In your room alone? That's perfect! But here at school or some other public place is out of the question. Be smooth, my man." Gerald said as he patted his best friend on the back. "Besides, we all have plans after school to set your project in motion which, I have to say, is a rather bold move."
His last few words made Arnold laugh. "Well, I am a bold kid, after all."
Gerald smiled and returned his laugh. "I wonder who said that? Definitely not me..." He said as he led them both into the cafeteria.
"Criminy! Can this food get anymore crappy?!" Helga yelled as she stirred her lumpy mashed potatoes on her tray. "Murderers probably get better grub than this junk."
Phoebe sat down thoughtfully next to her boisterous friend and pulled out a pad and paper. She had already made a few plans on how to go about the big project to save Bobs Beepers and wanted to share them with her friend. "Ready to go over the plans, Helga?" She asked happily.
"Psh, what plans?" Helga scowled.
Phoebe tilted her head. "The plans for yours and Arnold project." With that she opened up the notebook and began to explain the outline. The who, what, where and when of everything that would go down over the next week. As she explained it, their two boy partners approached them with their own meals and sat down to fully listen in. Everyone was there minus one person.
"I can't believe I have to do this..." Rhonda complained from over at her table, staring off at the group from far away. "If I had to help anyone, Helga would definitely be last on the list. I mean, have you met her, Nadine? She's loud and nasty and hasn't even changed her color scheme since kindergarten. I simply just won't do it!"
Nadine sighed with annoyance as she placed her own food tray down next to the vicious girl. "But you agreed to, didn't you? You can't back down now. If anything, just think of it more as you're helping Arnold instead." Rhonda let out another loud groan and placed her head on the table, causing Nadine to straighten up and look at her friend straight in the face. "You shouldn't have agreed to help if you were gonna act like this, Rhonda." She scolded.
"Ugh! I know but he just sounded so... DESPERATE!" The posh girl whined. "I figured it would be nice to help the little people once in a while, you know, show my good natured side but..."
Hearing the term "little people" made Nadine's insides turn and disgust for her entitled friend boil up inside of her. Many times she had, had one on one talks with Rhonda with her less than self effacing attitude and how it wasn't doing either of them good. Every time it seemed like the rich girl turned over a new leaf, that leaf would crumple up and fly away along with its good natured intentions.
"Would you just go over there and join in on their plans? You already agreed to help and backing down now would only make you look bad." Nadine said after she quelled the frustrations within her. "Besides, they do need your expertise for selling the project."
Rhonda began to tap lightly at her peas, making them roll back and forth. "They do... don't they...?" she gave a little smirk at the thought. "I am the queen of fashion at this God forsaken mess of a school..."
Nadine smiled. "If anyone can help them sell beepers to those ridiculous hipsters, it's definitely you."
Suddenly a light in Rhonda's head lit and she shot straight up, causing her friend to recoil. "That's right! And if anything, maybe they would feature my brilliant designs in this week's Rouge magazine! I'll be famous!"
"That's the spirit!" Nadine encouraged, routing her friend along and slowly pushing her towards the table. "Go get em, tiger!" and with that final push, sent Rhonda stumbling into the table of her intended.
The moment Rhonda bumped the table, all conversation halted and all eyes turned to the drama queen herself. Immediately, she turned around embarrassed to see that Nadine had abandoned her and made her way back to their lunch table. Turning back to the awkward group of fellow sixth graders, Rhonda cleared her throat and resumed her face. "H-Hey guys! Room for one more...?" She asked hesitantly as she posed.
Helga took a bite of her mashed potatoes and looked over at Phoebe who smiled. "Of course, Rhonda! We were just talking about you." The Japanese girl said politely, as she moved over to make room.
With a nervous chuckle, Rhonda sat down and pretended to become interested in their conversations.
"After looking up some popular hipster "icons" online, I ran into a few that seemed quite suitable for our cause. Here, have a look!" Phoebe gestured as she pushed her notebook into the middle of the table for all to see. In the notebook were printed pictures of various models and their fashion tastes.
Almost immediately, Rhonda snorted in disgust. "Good gracious!" She blurted out, pushing the notebook further from herself, causing the other four to look at her. "Absolutely NOT, Phoebe! We could do much better than this!"
"Then what's your suggestion, Rhonda?" Gerald asked as he raised an eyebrow.
His question made the girl smile deviously before pulling out her cell phone and pulling up a webpage. Each of them looked at one another before peering into the bright and shiny screen.
"This is Marcy Stark! She is number one right now in her fashion class," She explained as she scrolled through the pictures. Each with a different yet similar style of clothing to the last with the same girl as the model. "One thing you should know about hipsters is each of them are incredibly different yet very much the same. They take something that was hip and fly back in the day, and bring it back with their own flare."
"Like a specific brand of their own?" Phoebe questioned, becoming interested in what the opinionated girl had to say.
"Very good, Phoebe!" Rhonda gasped, looking over at the small girl and smiling. "That's what Hipsters are all about! Their very own brand!"
"But hold on..." Arnold interrupted. "Then wouldn't that mean that even if using beepers appealed to one, then only that one would be able to apply it to their brand?" He was now beginning to become concerned that their plan was a bust.
Rhonda snorted. "Yes, but no..." She then took her phone away and pulled up another page. "You see, every fashionista has followers... You know? Like posers! Others who idolize that specific person and want to look just like them!"
This caused Helga to laugh. "Yeah, I got you. Like 'It Girl'" She outbursts. "Boy that was a ride that I'll never get on again... Even Miriam began dressing like me..."
Rhonda couldn't help but shutter at the thought. "Yes..." she then pointed at a number under the models picture."That number there is how many people are subscribed to her photos. Those are the people who are attempting to dress like her and be her, even though it's her own brand. Got it?"
As the others peered at the phone, they became astounded at the number they were looking at. "Holy..." Gerald gasped.
"That's a lot of people..." Arnold added.
Rhonda nodded and put away her phone. "Yes and these are the fans we will be attempting to reach!"
"Okay that's all well and good, princess" Helga pounded her hand on the lunch table, causing it to shake. "But how do those people find out about my Dad's beeper sale? And I didn't see her wearing one so why would they even care?" she asked.
Rhonda rolled her eyes at such a dumb question. "We get her to wear one of your Dad's beepers and voila! Suddenly they'll be at your doorstep begging for one"
"Just like Wacko Watches!" Gerald boasted. "All I did was make them seem really new and exciting and I practically had customers eating out of my hands! Even the owner of the company bought them all back from me at double the price! We could do the same with beepers!"
"This is exactly why I brought us all together. Gerald is an expert salesman, Rhonda is the best at fashion knowledge and Phoebe has the best management planning out of all of us. With us five, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that we could pull off selling these beepers!" Arnold grinned to them all, connecting with each one of their hearts on a personal level, causing them all to agree to his plan. He then turned to his angry looking partner, who was casually picking apart her food and flicking it across the room at unknowing passerbyers. "That just leaves you, Helga! After school you should pitch this idea to your dad and see if he'll go along."
"Psh, Sure, whatever Arnoldo. Consider it done." She smirked, barely looking in his direction.
This caused Arnold to frown at her lack of interest but he knew that once the ball started to roll, she would see that there was hope in their plan. "Okay good! How about we meet at my house today around... 4ish? Sound good?"
Each kid nodded and agreed in unison and soon the bell rang for lunch to conclude. Once the table left, save for Arnold and Gerald, the two did their secret hand shake.
"Looks like you got a pretty solid plan, my brotha." Gerald smiled as they exited the lunch room in route of their class.
"I hope so. Helga didn't sound too excited but I know she'll come around..." Arnold replied, as he filled his heart with hope.
"Ohhhh~ my beloved!" Helga cooed to her golden Arnold locket in the girl's bathroom, after making sure no one was around to hear. "Going through so much trouble to get everyone together to help out my cause! Planning and preparing even the littlest of things all just for me, Helga G. Pataki... What a benevolent little angel you are!" She then put on a frown as she looked at herself in the mirror. "And alas, here I am... Acting like I want no part in it. Acting like I don't care, as usual." She sighed and turned around, resting up against a sink and crossing her arms. "If only I could believe in him a little more. Sure, his plan seems pretty solid especially if we have Geraldo and Miss Princess Lloyd at our disposal, but then we have Big Bob who will probably say how stupid the idea is. That guy wouldn't budge even if a boulder was rolling his way..." Suddenly an interesting thought came into her head and a grin slowly grew across her face. "That's it!" She shouted and exited the bathroom to join her last class of the day.
"Oh no, no!" Bob shouted as he sifted through the box of beepers, counting them individually. "I don't need anyone else helping our business! I have enough on my plate. Too much to add supervising little eight year olds while they attempt to sell beepers."
"...We're twelve, Dad." Helga replied with a poker face. "And besides, you don't need to manage us. If anything think of it as free labor!" Helga gestured towards him to get out of his box and sit back down in his big green lay-z-man chair. "You sit here, watch your TV shows and we'll be out there pitching your sales! You did say you wanted us to wrack in the big bucks, right?"
Bob raised his eyebrow. "I dunno...This sounds suspicious. What's the catch?"
Helga waved her hands back and forth "There IS no catch, Bob. I want to get out from living in this broken down shop just as much as you do and the sooner the better. Just think of this as..." She then thought to herself before putting on a sickeningly sweet face and imitating her older sister, "Helping out my wonderful family"
Bob let out a whole belly laugh "Hah! You? Helping out the family? That's hilarious."
Helga then put back on her usual scowl. "Do you want free labor and big sales or not?" She stomped her foot.
With little deliberation, Bob was inclined to agree to her pitch. "Alright... But don't disappoint me. A lot is riding on you, girl." He said with a handshake.