Chapter 11

It's Not a Date

Spencer Beach boardwalk, 8:58 AM

-HELGA-

I should've really just blown this whole thing off, really. I'm not even close to ready to date anyone. On top of that, Alex is too old for me. I'm sixteen, he's gotta be close to twenty. The two of us together is problematic as hell. The only reason I'm even humoring this is the fact that Phoebe put me on the spot yesterday.

Whatever. It's not like I'm putting any effort into this whole thing anyway. I didn't bother doing anything with my appearance. Just khaki shorts, sandals, and a loose-fitting open blue Hawaiian shirt over a tank top. Very gender-neutral. No makeup. Hair pulled back into a ponytail. Sunglasses so he can't be mesmerized by my admittedly dazzling eyes (Hey. I'm allowed a little vanity).

Well, it's not like he was here yet. Maybe there was still time to back out of –

"Hey, Helga!"

Aw, nerts.

I turned and forced a smile onto my face. "Alex, hi…"

Oh, lord. Khaki shorts. Blue Hawaiian shirt. Sandals. Sunglasses.

"Oh, hey, cool, check it out, we're twins!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, how about that," I replied, a bit uncomfortably. It was like some cosmic force wanted to subtly push us together and I wanted none of it. It was that point I decided it was time to lay all my cards on the table and let him know exactly where I was at. "Look," I said, "I'm not sure what you expect from today, but it's probably not what you're going to get."

"Uh, what do you mean?" he asked, seemingly oblivious.

"Well… how old are you, exactly?" I asked.

"Nineteen," he replied. "Gonna turn 20 in October."

"Well," I continued, "I'm sixteen. I can't even drive yet. So, you, me, this… it can't happen."

He shrugged. "Nothing has to happen," he said blithely. "This doesn't have to be anything. We're just two people hanging out. I'm not gonna put any pressure on you or anything."

"Good. I wanted to make that clear. Fact is… I just got out of a long-term relationship, and even though it's over, it kind feels like it might pick up again at some point… and we kinda agreed to be okay about seeing other people, but… I don't know whether I'd be really okay with knowing he was, so I feel like I'd be kind of a hypocrite if I did it myself… it's this whole weird messed up thing and I honestly don't know why I'm blabbing all this crap to you seeing how it's absolutely none of your business." I sighed. "As you can see, I'm kind of a crazy person. You should probably back out now."

He chuckled. "It's okay, dude. Believe me, I know a crazy chick when I see one, and you're nowhere near that."

I cracked a bit of a grin. "'Dude'? I really did nail looking unsexy, didn't I."

He grinned back. "I wouldn't go that far. I just call pretty much everyone 'dude'."

"So… what makes you think I'm not a crazy chick? You don't know me. For all you know, my luggage could be full of human heads."

"Well I used to date a crazy chick. And you're nothing like her."

"There's different kinds of crazy, bucko. What flavor we talkin' about here?"

"Well, this girl was absolutely obsessed with that old show, Babewatch…"

"Oh, with Danny Hassenpfeffer and Sam Henderson? I used to love that show. Looking back, it was actually pretty lame. These days, I'm more into stuff involving zombies and dragons. But back then, I guess I just kinda liked the whole beach romance deal. Y'know… funny story… I was actually on that show."

"Really?"

"Yeah, back when I was 10, my ex and I won this sand-castle-building competition – right here on this beach, actually – and the prize was a bit part in a Babewatch episode. Well, he wasn't my ex back then, in fact, on paper, we supposedly couldn't stand each other. It's kinda funny how things work out. Anyway, I had what was supposed to be a non-speaking part as a junior lifeguard trainee and Arnold – that's my ex – was a drowning victim. I was supposed to just sorta look on as DJ gave him mouth-to-mouth, but I kinda had a thing for the guy at the time, not that I'd ever admit it to anyone… and I sorta shoved my way into an iconic screen moment."

While I was going on, he was just sort of staring at me. Well, if anything'll make him back off, it'll be me being a ranbling lunatic, I reasoned. "But anyway, I'm probably-"

""Oh, wow… that was you," he suddenly interrupted. "You're that girl!"

"The- oh my god, you're the boyfriend, aren't you."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that was me, back when I was with Summer. I was kind of a jerk back then."

"Yeah, well, a lot of us weren't great people back in the day."

"Wow, you changed a lot. I didn't even recognize you."

"Yeah, I know. I have two very huge changes that you can't exactly miss, can you."

"Um… well, it's not like I was staring…."

"Doi. I was talking about my eyebrows, dumbass." I retorted, tapping them. "Way to prove your mind's in the gutter."

"I – I didn't-"

"I'm kidding, Keanu! Criminy, lighten up a little!" I said, giving him a gentle slap on the back. Well, the way he winced in pain suggested I hadn't been quite as gentle as I intended. Sometimes, I kind of forget that I do keep a little bit of my strength even when I'm in human mode. "Whoops," I added apologetically. "That wasn't supposed to be that hard."

"You're kind of stronger than most girls I've known," he said, rubbing the sore spot.

"Yeah, I work out a lot," I lied. "Cross-fit, weight training, that sort of thing."

"Oh, well, it shows." He chuckled.

"Well… now that we know who each other are," I asked, "what do we do now?"

"I guess we could just check out the boardwalk," he suggested. "Play some games, ride some rides… and then we could get lunch. I know this place that makes the best fish tacos you ever had."

"You had me at tacos," I replied. "Well, let's get going, Keanu. Time's a'wastin'".

-SUMMER-

Binoculars, check. Newly-purchased sound amplifier, check. I was all set to spy on Sandy and that ugly blond harpy who had sunk her claws into him. They wouldn't do a thing without me being aware of it.

Yes, that bitch wouldn't know what hit h-

"SUMMER!"

"WHAT!? WHAT DO YOU WANT, MOM?!"

"YOU"RE LATE FOR YOUR DOG-WALKING JOB!"

"SO WHAT?!"

"SO IF YOU"RE LATE, YOU'RE GONNA GET FIRED! AGAIN!"

I groaned, trudging down the stairs to the main level, where mom was already where she would probably be for the rest of the day, on the couch, half-smoked cigarette between two fingers, one of those stupid judge shows playing on the TV.

"What do I care? You're the one who keeps signing me up for all these stupid jobs anyway."

"And whose fault is that?" she spat back. "If you'd just gotten that role back then like you were supposed to, we'd be on easy street right now. As it is, you're clearly not going anywhere, so if you intend to keep living under my roof, you'd better start pulling your own weight around here."

"As long as I don't have to pull yours…" I muttered under my breath.

"Just get out and do it. I'm getting sick of you constantly blowing off your responsibilities to do whatever it is you're doing. There aren't any places left in town that'll hire a high-school dropout."

Yeah, there's that. I'd flunked my senior year of high school and going back seemed pretty pointless anyway, seeing as I had no real interest in college beyond the parties anyway, and why bother paying tuition when you could just get in to the parties anyway by looking hot? College boys were always cruising the SB looking for some hot piece of ass, and I certainly qualified.

But mama didn't quite see it like I did. She was all "If you aren't going to school, then you'd better be working." So she kept signing me up for all these stupid jobs instead, of, you know, getting one herself. But hey, why should she have to, right? Daddy's alimony checks (sent from wherever he was plowing that redhead of his) covered everything she needed… rent, food, cigarettes, beer, and cable. Anything I wanted on top of that was my own responsibility.

"Fine," I conceded. "I'll walk the stupid dogs. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. I'm just overjoyed that my lazy, useless daughter is doing the bare minimum expected of her. Lemme alert the media so they can award you Daughter of the Year."

Ha ha, yeah, sarcasm, whatever. Ah, well… could've been worse, right? She'd probably be a nightmare as a stage mom… at least 'til I sued for emancipation, anyway.

Spencer Beach Furry Friends was a service for all those tourists that were sentimental enough to drag their mutts along with them on vacation but too lazy to be bothered to walk the damn things. And so, here I was being pulled along the boardwalk by half a dozen of the fleabags this fine morning, pausing every three or four second for one of them to take a piss or dump. Hallelujah. At least no one could claim that I wasn't earning my pay. Wasting all this time when I could be doing something constructive, like spying on Sandy and Butterface…

And then fortune smiled on me. I was waiting for Mrs. Borland's schnauzer to finish relieving itself when I saw them coming down the boardwalk. They'd rented rollerblades and were gliding towards me rapidly. The timing couldn't be better.

And so, ever so gently, I let go of my leashes and seven overexcited dogs broke loose and charged the nearest pair of humans.

This was gonna be fun.

-HELGA-

"Okay," I admitted. "You were right. This does make getting around a lot faster." Alex had suggested renting rollerblades to make cruising the boardwalk a bit more interesting. I'd been resistant at first, but damned if it wasn't working.

"What'd I tell you?" he replied.

"How about we make it even more interesting? Race you to the end of the boardwalk. Loser pays for the tacos."

"Well… I don't wanna brag, but I've been rollerblading pretty much my whole life, so if you think you can beat me, let's go."

"Oh, aren't you confident," I replied, smirking. "Just be warned, back in Hillwood my appetite is legendary. So it's probably in your best interest to win, 'cause I'm an expensive lunch date."

"I thought you said this wasn't a date," he remarked.

"Figure of speech. Didn't mean anything. Um… Right! We're racing! On three! OneTWOTHREE!"

"Hey, no fair!" Alex complained as I pulled off to an early lead.

"All's fair in tacos and war, Keanu," I replied, grinning. "You can still catch up to me, if you try…"

"Hey, do you hear barking?" he asked.

"Ooh, going for the distraction technique, very clever. But I don't fool easi-"

Too late, I heard the barking too, and the next thing I knew, I was knocked flat on my butt by a horde of rampaging furballs. I laid there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened to me, before trying to right myself again.

"Oh, sorry," A voice said, as I was offered a hand. I looked up into a face that I had not seen in over six years.

"Can I help you up?" Summer said with a veneer of congeniality. I could sense that it was only surface level, though. The girl simply oozed phoniness out of every pore. But I was hardly in a position to turn her down… besides, I could just be imagining it. After all, it had been over half a decade and what were the odds she even recognized me?

"Thanks,", I said, accepting the hand up.

"Hey… you okay?" Alex said after managing to navigate the runaway dogs.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said.

"Oh, Sandy!" Summer said brightly. "What a coincidence bumping into you here!"

"Yeah…" he said, looking a bit umcomfortable. "Coincidence…"

"So," she prompted, "Who's your little friend here?" The emphasis on little was definitely intended.

"Oh, uh, this is Helga. And we're not like together or anything, we're just friends."

"Pfft," she scoffed. "Like I care. You wanna hang out with high school girls, that's been me, you, and maybe Chris Hansen."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked.

"Totes. I am like, so over you, you wouldn't believe. I have so much stuff going on right now."

Yeah, somehow, I doubted that. I could spot someone putting up a false front a mile away, having done it myself for so long… in fact, I kind of still do given my secret identity and all. Frankly, though, I didn't want to push the issue with her, since it really didn't gain me anything at all. Instead, I smiled and said "Well, thanks for the hand up. It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she said, though she couldn't help but passive-aggressively add, "Have fun sophomore year!"

"I'm a junior!" I corrected unnecessarily. Why was I on the defensive? I have nothing to feel bad about. There's only a three-and-a-half year difference, and I have no romantic intentions anyway.

"Oh, my mistake," she said. "Anyway, I should probably go find those dogs. See you around!"

"Wow, she was a lot more okay with this than I expected," Alex remarked.

"Looks like it," I said. I had a sinking feeling that I hadn't heard the last of the woman, but right at the moment, I was just fine with being wrong about it. "By the way," I said as I copped yet another cheap head start, "the race isn't over yet!"

"Aw man!" he yelled, giving chase.

"Well, stop falling for it so easily!"

-SUMMER-

It took a while to round up all the dogs and finish walking them…. Not that I cared about keeping that job, but I cared about mom lecturing me over getting fired again.

With my job out of the way, I was free to shadow Sandy and the underage tramp. If he ran true to form, he'd probably take her to Pepe's Taco stand. It was a small shack with a few tables on the side. Sandy's preferred table was the one right by the palm tree. Right now he and the bitch had stopped to check out a fire-eater about a hundred yards away, which gave me plenty of time to work my magic. "You like fire-eaters, huh?" I muttered to myself. "Well, here's your chance to get in on the act." Jim Lang's Reaper Madness hot sauce. One drop was enough to turn your tongue into a raging inferno. Spiking the table's taco sauce dispenser with half a bottle? Well, let's just say it was going to be entertaining.

Once the deed was done, I took up a spot with good cover and turned on my new sound amplifier, waiting for my victim to come into range. My patience was soon rewarded.

-HELGA-

"…no way you could've beaten me in a fair race," Sandy protested.

"Well, doi, why did you think I cheated, Keanu?" I stepped to the counter. "I'll take two of your three-taco combos, please and thank you." I nodded back to Alex. "And he probably wants something too."

"…seriously?" he asked.

"I did warn you."

Once I convinced Alex that yes, I did intend to eat all the tacos and he finally ordered something, we collected our food and walked back to the table. "Do you always eat like this?" he asked. "Where do you put it all? Do you have an extra stomach?"

"Two, actually," I answered, deadpan.

"…you're kidding, right?"

"Duh, of course I'm kidding! What kind of person has three stomachs? No, I just have a really high metabolism. It's not like I'm some kind of, heh heh, weird mutant or anything…"

"You ever seen one? A mutant, I mean?"

"Um, no… no, not really, I mean, I've seen videos online and sometimes I see one flying overhead, but not in person, anyway, though I hear that pink one's really pretty… kinda looks like that blonde chick from iCarly but with more parts… [A.N.: yeah, I would totally cast Jeanette McCurdy as an older Helga in a live-action Hey Arnold.] Anyway, who cares about that. Let's talk about other stuff." I squirted a bit of hot sauce into my taco. For a second, I thought I heard someone giggling. Oh well, it was probably not related to anything I was doing.

"Okay, so… how's life in the big city?"

"It's, you know, big. Lots of people, lots of places," I paused to take a bite, "everything's re- oh… oh that's hot." Hot was putting it mildly. My mouth felt like it had spontaneously gone nuclear.

"Really? Sure it has a little kick, but I've nev-"

"HOT!" I said, feeling myself breaking into a sweat. I tried to say more but the words would not come. Just pain and burning and pain and burning and also pain and did I mention burning?

"Okay! I'll get you some milk! That should help…" He went back to the stand to pour some but I just couldn't wait anymore. I lunged for it and just chugged as much of the carton as I could without getting sick. The afterglow finally began to cool, though it would be a while before I could taste anything.

"Criminy," I gasped. "What do they make that shit out of, lava?"

"I don't get it," he said. "Pepe's sauce is never that hot."

"Then either you have no taste buds or he picked today to experiment with making people sick." I grabbed the sauce dispenser from the table and slammed it on the counter. "Hey! Is this how you get your kicks or something?"

"Pepe would never do such a thing!" the proprietor declared proudly.

"Well, all I know is your sauce nearly killed me!"

The owner sniffed the bottle. "No," he said. "This is not Pepe's sauce. Some one has tampered with it."

"Who would-" This time, I could definitely hear laughter. It was coming from behind some garbage cans. I had a sneaking suspicion exactly who I was going to find behind them.

"Helga, I'm really sorry-"

"Not your fault," I said. "But I think I know whose it is." I approached the garbage cans and flung one aside. "So… is this what you meant when you had 'so much stuff going on'?"

To her credit, the probably-out-of-a-bottle blonde was unflustered. "Okay, fine, you caught me. I'm behind some garbage cans laughing at something that was really funny. Slap the cuffs on me."

"So you had absolutely nothing to do with this?" I asked.

"Maybe, maybe not," she said with a smirk. "Unless you can prove otherwise, I'd just back away right now and go back to kindergarten. But you can't."

My eye fell on something sticking out of her pocket. "Oh, really?" I asked, yanking it out before she could react. "'Jim Lang's Reaper Madness'. Well, I can't fault you on your taste. This stuff got five mushroom clouds on rankthesauce dot com. And speaking from experience, great for pranks."

"Babe," Alex said, looking disappointedly at Summer.

"H-hey!" she protested. "I'm just looking out for you, okay? Sure, she may act all nice and charming now, and maybe she looks a little better, but this is the same little brat who cheated us out of our chance to be on Babewatch!"

"I know," Alex replied. "She told me. But I think she's changed. I was kind of hoping you'd finally changed too, but I guess I was wrong."

"I don't get why you're so hung up on it anyway," I said. "The show got cancelled less than a year later, anyway. It's dead. Get over it."

"Not true! I heard rumors that they're gonna do a TV movie that'll wrap up all the loose ends!"

"Pfft, yeah, like that'll ever happen. C'mon, Alex… let's get some ice cream. I need to get myself cooled down."

"Sounds like a good idea. And, Summer? I really hope one day you'll be able to move past this."

"She's evil, Sandy! You may not see it, but she's evil! And I'm gonna prove it!"

Yeah… this probably wasn't over. I'd have to stay on my toes.

A.N.: Well, the tables sure have turned, haven't they? I kinda love this whole situation with Summer in the position Helga was years ago. I threw in the scene with her mom because I was starting to worry that she went a little too cartoonishly evil, so I wanted to show how she may have become the person she is, with a mom that makes Big Bob look pleasant and a deadbeat dad.

Penguin Lord: Yep, that's the idea here.

Jose: I wanted a funny-sounding name that kinda sounded like "Hasselhoff". Rhonda has tangled with Bill Cipher in the past (admittedly at a minuscule fraction of his peak power), and he isn't exactly a slouch, so she's handled crazy, unpredictable types before.

Next: I'm sure Summer's cooking up more schemes, but will she stumble upon Helga's ultimate secret? Stay tuned!