Entry 18: Arnold's Valentine
Love, so tender, so warm, so intense, so….dag blasted complicated!
I was sitting in class listening to Ms. Slovak preach about how special Valentine's Day is. Pttss..How would she know? She's never been with anyone before?
Having watched Arnold put together an oh so impressive piece of artwork for that cheapskate Ruth Mcdugal, I listened to our teacher say she was coming around to pass out letters from our Pen Pals.
Why do people even bother with such an activity? I mean criminy! Who said I cared about what anyone was doing on the opposite side of the planet? Especially after the old lady hands me a postcard saying…
"Please send money!"
Oh yeah, couldn't wait to get my hands on that one!
Anyway, I hear football head telling tall hair boy the perfect way to present his masterpiece to Ruth, would be by inviting her to dinner.
Fate then spoke to me as I listened to our lonely teacher say lunch was starting.
I had an appetite for something new. Rather than helping myself to the last tapioca in the lunch line, I decided to help myself to a bit of Arnold's mail.
Apparently his Pen Pal was some fancy French girl named Cecile. A brilliant idea then struck my mind! The perfect way to tell Arnold how I felt, without actually having to do it myself!
I made a few adjustments in Cecile's letter, telling football head to meet her at Chez Paris that night.
Little did I know, he had already made plans to present his heartfelt card and feelings to go along with it by inviting Ruth~ to Chez Pierre. Oh brother!
So what happens? Mr. problem solver decides to get tall hair boy to stand watch and observe when the right time to switch tables came.
Just picture him running back and forth across the street. Who has to use the bathroom THAT frequently within the same hour? Criminy!
When he first took a look at me, he was stunned, and I'm guessing not just because I looked nothing like his long distance buddy's picture.
The so called 'hair parlor' I went to (Ol' Betsy will make an appearance if you ask what it actually was) didn't do exactly what I was expecting them to.
Having taken a look at my wild hair style, Arnold held the picture up and said…
"You don't look much like your picture?"
My heart began to pound! What was I going to do if he saw the real me? Honestly, I can't believe he made it through the night without figuring it out. I mean we've known each other since preschool for crying out loud. All I had to do was change my hairstyle to wipe his mind clear of my existence? Wonders never cease.
Anyway, after not being able to answer a few simple questions about Cecile's home life, I suggested we talk more about him. I wasn't going to dance around the topic. I insisted on knowing if there was anyone he liked.
His idea of answering that question was bringing up my name, just to say everything about me that bugs him? Pttsss...way to charm a lady bucko!
Of course, no conversation can be considered going smoothly without nine or ten interruptions.
I watched him race off, not caring to notice it was to Chez Pierre to deliver his imperative Valentine to Ruth~
Instead, I sat there trying to think of the right things to say, and perhaps even summon the strength to tell him the truth.
When he made it back to me, I could tell something was troubling him. Although he didn't tell me exactly what was on his mind, he wanted to know if I had ever liked someone, but they didn't turn out to be as I expected?
It was an awkward thing to be asked. I've only liked one person in my life. It's more than like though, it's absolute, head over heels for LOVE! And to top it off, he's all I ever expected and more!
All I could say to him was what I was hoping would someday be true for us. Something that would make him look past my rough exterior and into my soft natured heart…
"Maybe she wasn't the one for you. Sometimes the most beautiful gift can come in the plainest box."
A smile formed on his face as he reached out for my hand. I had almost forgotten we were in the restaurant when our waiter finally made an appearance, I ordered something that was ten syllables long, yet I will never forget the English translation…
"Cow brains and eggs!"
Tell me, what kind of restaurant doesn't have an English version of the menu if they're going to be serving in America?!
Not to mention the guy has the audacity to wait until AFTER I take ten spoonfuls to tell me in plain English what it was. I mean for crying out loud, even HE said most people my age don't appreciate that meal? Sheesh!
After spending a good chunk of the night in the restroom, I returned to the table with my hair completely unstyled (yet looking the best it had all day), only to find Arnold wasn't there.
I went outside to see his actual Pen Pal aka the real Cecile.
The poor football head stood there clueless while I tried thinking of an explanation. I gotta say, Geraldo came in handy after all. Taking the lonely French girl off Arnold's hands so he and I could work things out.
By work things out I mean him watching me chicken out on revealing my feelings once again.
"There's still one thing I don't understand. Who are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"I just can't okay?"
His desperation to see me again made the night all the more sweeter however. As he kissed my hand, I walked away, not caring he still had one of my shoes. It was as if we mutually implied for it to be a memento of that special night.
After returning home and spending the night on and off in the bathroom, vomiting the remainder of the terrible meal, I'm wondering if he'll ever figure out it was me?
Oh Arnold, one day I'll find the strength to reveal to you my true feelings as myself. Not some fake French girl with an absurd hairstyle, but as me...Helga G. Pataki!
