Chapter 44

A Show and Dinner, Part 1

YM-YWNDA

-ARNOLD-

"Uh-uh, Arnold. No way. No way in hell."

"Aw, c'mon, Gerald, it's not like I'm asking for a lot!"

"You know that's a lie."

The two of us were playing a one-on-one pick-up basketball game at the court out back behind the YM-YWNDA when I had brought up the proposal. Really, it wasn't like it was an unreasonable request.

"Look… I sort of agreed to the whole thing on the spur of the moment, and it wasn't until she left that I realized I'd just committed myself to a night of potential hell. So, all I'm asking for is some kind of buffer. Just ask Phoebe out and make a reservation at Chez Paris, and I'll pretend to be all surprised when I see you two there and invite you to sit with us. Simple."

"Arnold… my man… you know I love you as much as heterosexually possible. I'd take a bullet for you. But that don't mean I'd take a Helga for you."

"Aw, c'mon… she hasn't been that bad in years."

"Maybe she's not bad bad, but watching the four of you attempt to make small talk is gonna be painful. Like, physically painful. Like step on Legos painful. Besides… Phoebe's family's gonna be at her grandma's in Kentucky for the holidays. So I'd be nothing but a fifth wheel. And you couldn't pay me enough to be a fifth wheel at that table."

"Well, thanks a lot. Traitor."

"You could just back out…"

"Of course I can't back out! Then I'd look like I was the one who was scared!"

"…well, aren't you?"

"I mean, yeah... but I don't want her to think that!"

Gerald smirked knowingly. "Which 'her' are we talking about here?"

"What do you mean, which 'her'? Isn't it obvious?"

"I'm just sayin'… there are two girls involved here. Are you scared of looking weak in front of your girlfriend… or your ex-girlfriend whom you still have a thing for?"

"Both, okay?" I sighed. The second I'd bumped into Helga, everything, every feeling had all come rushing back to me, and it was all I could do to keep myself from taking her into my arms and locking lips with her. Only the realization that my girlfriend – my current girlfriend – happened to be standing right behind me had stopped me. And now, part of me just wanted to get back with Helga and pretend none of this had ever happened… but then there was Shaia, who had been there when I needed someone, and who didn't deserve to be treated like that. And Brainy, who was… well, was he really a friend? I can't really point to any time when we hung out together. To be honest, I don't even think he ranks as high as "D-List" friends like Park, Joey, Peapod Kid and that one guy with the glasses and curly blond hair… We'd never really talked, even; he'd just sorta been part of the scenery all this time. And now my ex was dating him and apparently he had this whole personality that I never knew about; he was into art house movies and obscure cuisines and alternative music and stuff like that. He'd secretly been interesting this whole time. Could I compete? I wasn't exactly Mister Dynamic.

"Mmm-mmm-mmm! I'd hate to be in your shoes. Good thing I'm not."

"Thanks for the sympathy, Gerald," I said sarcastically.

"Hey, who knows. Maybe Helga's just as scared of this date as you are. Maybe she's desperately trying to rope some poor sucker into being your buffer even as we speak."

"No… can't be," I replied. "This whole thing was her idea in the first place. Trust me; there is no way Helga's trying to drag someone else into this."

Briddget's secret underground base

-HELGA-

"Oh. Oh god, no. No way in hell," Rhonda replied to my very reasonable request.

"What? I'm not asking for a whole lot here. On your left." I flung a small fireball over her upper-left shoulder, hitting the target that popped up behind her. "That's five-three for me, Princess. You need to step your game up. Anyway, is this because I yelled at you at practice today? Because I totally apologized for that!"

"It has nothing to do with that, and everything to do with you asking me to be the meat in your gigantic sandwich of awkwardness." She flung an arc of electricity around me. "Five-four."

"You and Nadine, Rhonda, you and Nadine. It's not like we haven't done multi-couple things before."

"Yeah, when you and Arnold were together, not when you were split up and dating different people and the tension between you was so thick you could get stuck in it."

"I don't know what you're talking about. There's no tension."

"Then why are you so eager to drag me into it?" Zap. "All tied up."

"'Drag you into it'? Don't be a Paranoid Rondalloid. I'm just inviting two of my dearest, closest friends to a nice dinner out. You like fancy French grub, right?"

"If you're just inviting close friends, why aren't you inflicting this torment on Phoebe?"

"Because she's gonna be in Kentucky. C'mon. I'll pay."

"No. Nooooo. You made your bed, you lie in it." Zap. "And with the come-from-behind victory…"

"Hey hey hey HEY! It's not over yet! You just got me distracted. All I need is two more-"

*BZZZZZ*

As the buzzer sounded and any targets still open retracted, Rhonda shot me a triumphant smirk. "You were saying? Guess you owe me a milkshake."

Rats. I should've bet that she had to come on that date. Maybe it would have motivated me more. Hmm, maybe could still do that. "One more go. I win, you have to come on the triple date."

"Nope," she replied smugly. "I think I'm going to quit while I'm ahead."

"We have everything we need anyway," Kelli Yeung, Bridget's R&D chief, stated. "Thanks for helping us test out the target practice room, btdubs. Bridge really wanted us to get it finished before holiday break."

"No trouble at all," Rhonda replied. "It's a great way to blow off steam. Some of us really need it," she added archly, glancing in my general direction.

"I do not need to blow off steam. I am perfectly fine."

"Good. So you should be able to handle a dinner with your ex, and his date, and your date. You shouldn't need us to run interference. Unless there's something you're particularly worried about."

"What are you implying?" I asked, eyes narrowing.

"I'm not implying anything, because it's as obvious as the horns on your head that you still have feelings for Arnold, and you're worried that being in close proximity to him will ignite those feelings. And two people are going to get burned."

"…well, duh," I huffed, having run out of protests.

"…then why'd you suggest the whole double date to begin with?"

"Doi, obviously because I wanted to show that I wasn't still obsessed with him and that I could handle a casual evening with just the four of us, which was obviously the stupidest thing I could have possibly done." I flopped on the break-room couch, not really caring that I was sitting on my tail and it was super uncomfortable. "I didn't think he'd agree to it so easily."

"Why not?"

"Well, I assumed he was as ambivalent about the whole thing as me, so he'd turn me down so we wouldn't have to deal with all the awkwardness, but noooooo, he just said 'yes' without a moment's thought, which means he's probably totally over me. And really, why wouldn't he be? She's smart and hot and an actual freaking princess straight out of some kind of ancient myth or fairytale, and I'm… I'm Helga G. Pataki. How the hell can I compete?"

"Hey now," protested Rhonda. "Sure, you're not royalty, and you're kind of a hard person to like, and you've got enough emotional baggage to start your own luggage company…"

"Well, thanks for the encouraging pep talk," I said, rolling my eyes.

"…I mean, besides all that, there are plenty of good things about you, too."

"Oh, really, what are those."

"Well, for one thing, I can't think of anyone else I'd want beside me more in a fight."

"Great, so I'm a violent brute."

"And you're brilliant, and creative, and a natural leader…"

"She will literally be queen some day."

"What else… well, you're not exactly not hot…"

"Now you're just messing with me."

"It's true. You may not have Barbie-doll features, but your face has character."

"That's the word people use when they want to call you 'ugly' the nice way."

"Urrrggggghhh, just learn to take a compliment," she whined, eyes rolling.

"I can't help it, this whole thing is just showing me how pathetic I am. I mean… here I am practically begging you to be my babysitter so that I don't throw myself at Arnold. What's wrong with me? I bet Arnold isn't doing anything like that. No, he's way too confident for that."

Rhonda groaned. "Hellcat, you're just going to have to suck it up and endure the awkwardness. You made your bed, now lie in it. Besides, there'd be a conflict of interest. I'm taking Shaia out to find her a new dress tonight."

At that moment I felt very good that I hadn't opened my Yahoo yet, because I would have dropped it at that point and spilled it all over the carpet. "You're taking her shopping?"

"Well, of course! She's going to the theater in a week, and then to a fancy dinner the following Saturday night, and she's from a secluded kingdom in the middle of nowhere, so no doubt she hasn't a thing to wear! I am simply doing my civic duty!"

"But… right before Christmas? The stores'll be a madhouse!"

"Not where I shop. You're forgetting, darling… I'm rich."

That evening

-SHAIA-

"Are you sure I shouldn't come along?" Arnold asked, looking a bit too anxious."

"I think I will be fine," I assured him. "Rhonda is merely taking me shopping. In truth, I'm been wanting to do that sort of thing since we got here."

After we ran into (literally) Helga and had met our dinner date, Arnold had shown me around the school grounds during the morning, looking in on a few of the classes. It was easy, even in as limited a sampling as I'd had, to see how chaotic the typical high school experience could be. It was something I wasn't sure I could handle.

After the morning tour, we had met several of Arnold's friends for lunch. While talking, I happened to mention the plans Arnold and I had made, and Rhonda had asked me if I had anything suitable for a night at Chez Paris. I replied that I wasn't sure if I did, and she'd reacted as if someone had hit her with a poisoned blow dart. "You don't? We must remedy that at once!" She whipped out her phone. "I must clear my schedule. Tonight, you and I have a date with the most exclusive boutique in Hillwood."

"Oh, that really isn't necessary," I protested, mostly out of sheer politeness. In truth, a high-class shopping trip sounded wonderful, but I didn't want to impose.

"Nonsense! It would be my pleasure. After all, we are talking a potential fashion emergency in the making. Such a crisis must be averted for the good of all!"

"Uh-oh, this must be serious, she's gone full Rarity," joked Gerald. Upon stares, he said "What? The show had good writing."

"Y'all don't seem the type is all," Stinky said. "On account o' you bein' an all-fired jock."

"Ain't no reason a jock can't like magic horses. I thought we were all past gender stereotypes," replied Gerald irately, "Nothin' wrong with a brother likin' ponies," he muttered to himself under his breath.

I had absolutely no idea what Gerald was talking about, and didn't really have time to ask because Rhonda was already rattling off a litany of suggestions for the evening. And that brings us back to this moment.

"But I'm just worried… I mean, the mercado in Puerto Clara is one thing, but this is a completely different experience."

"Oh, Arnold, darling, don't worry about it. Shaia will be in good hands," Rhonda reassured. "You'd probably find the whole ordeal dreadfully boring anyway. I know how boys are with this sort of thing."

"Not necessarily," Arnold protested. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Arnold was a wonderful boy, kind, attentive, considerate, but he had a tendency to be overprotective. I suppose I could understand why, but it was not as if I was some delicate jungle flower that would wither the moment I was transplanted from my home environment. I was perfectly capable of looking out for my own interests.

"Really. So the thought of standing around waiting while we try on outfits, one after the other, until we find just the right… there. There it is. The thousand-yard stare. We didn't even have to go into a store. All I had to do was talk about it, and there it was." She smiled warmly, dropping the aristocratic airs. "Arnold, don't worry about. She's a big girl. She can handle this."

"She is correct, Arnold. I know what I'm getting into. Unless you are scared she wishes to steal me away from you," I teased.

"Is that it, Arnold?" Rhonda added. "Are you afraid we'll run off together?"

"No, of course not!" he said. "I'd never even considered that!"

"She is rather charming. I would not be offended if you were worried."

"I'm not! I trust Rhonda! She's not some.. woman-eater!"

"Oh, relax, Arnold, she's just messing with you." Rhonda noted. "Really, you must learn to lighten up."

"I will be fine," I emphasized, giving him a peck on the lips, as we got into Rhonda's car. "What is it you say here… oh yes. "I got this."

The drive to Upper Hillwood was significantly different from the trip from the airport; for one, Rhonda's… leemo was far more luxurious a conveyance than the Packard had been, with soft upholstery, an impressive amount of legroom, and a built-in wet bar. "Can I get you a drink?" Rhonda offered. "We have Yahoo, Yahoo Zero, Spritz, Diet Spritz, Mango Blast – that's Nadine's favorite so I always make sure we have it… or plain seltzer if you don't go for the sweet stuff."

"Thank you, Yahoo will be fine. So… This place you are taking me… will I actually be able to afford it?"

"Oh, don't worry about it. Consider it an early Christmas present.' Tis the season for giving, after all."

"Why would you do sucha thing? You barely know me."

"True, but Arnold clearly is a huge fan, and if he thinks you're something special, well, clearly you must be."

"Do you all truly hold him in such high regard?" I asked. The one thing I had noticed since I had arrived in this city was how no one seemed to have an unkind word to say about Arnold. At dinner the previous night, the boarders had gone on and on about his accomplishments. I'd known he was kind f nature and optimistic of heart, that much was easily evident just from spending any amount of time around him, but they spoke of him as if he was some kind of legendary hero. Then again… this was the boy who had stopped a volcano with his mere birth….

"We do. A lot of us owe a lot to him. Not just for what he's done for us, but what he's done to bring out the best in us. I know I, for one, would be a far worse person if I'd never known him."

I was not sure what answer I'd expected to get from her. Perhaps some sort of deeper insight? I'd gotten close to Arnold the past half-year, but on some level I felt as though I didn't quite know him… perhaps there was that whole legendary status looming in the background covering every interaction. Here I was, befriending, even having a relationship with, the savior of our nation. And while he himself had never made me feel unworthy, deep down I was unsure if I deserved the position I found myself in. Yet, there was one person that I knew for certain had been in the position before me… someone I'd be spending a formal evening with soon. Perhaps if I understood her better, if I knew how she'd earned his heart, I'd feel more secure in my own feelings.

"So… what can you tell me about… Helga?" I asked.

Rhonda raised an eyebrow. "Helga? What about her?"

"Well, seeing as we will be sharing an evening sometime soon, perhaps you can, er, fill me up on her history with Arnold? So I do not stumble into anything awkward of course," I hastily added for justification.

"Oh… well, I'm hardly one for idle gossip… oh who am I kidding, of course I am." She sat back on her side of the limo seat. "The legend of Helga G. Pataki is a long and complicated one. Most of us have known her since preschool. I would say 'have been friends with', but back then, 'friends' wouldn't exactly have been the right word for it. 'Tormented' would be more appropriate."

"'Tormented'? That seems like such a harsh word."

"Harsh but appropriate. From the very first day, she made it clear that she was in charge and that if anyone stepped out of line, they would face the consequences. Basically, she was the class bully. Or one of them. I guess I fit the description too, on occasion, but not to the extent she did."

Once again, my expectation had been defied. From Arnold's descriptions, she seemed like a wonderful person, and here I was learning the exact opposite was true. "That seems very hard to believe."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. She hasn't been like that for a long time. Tough, a bit abrasive, sure, but she doesn't antagonize people for the sake of it anymore. Really, even back then, I think she had trouble letting people in, so instead she took steps to actively push them away instead."

"Why would she do that?"

"Not my place to say, and believe me, if I won't talk about it, you know it's private."

"Still, even then she was close to Arnold, right?"

"Oh, no, if anything, he was the one she bullied the most. Every day, calling him names, pranking him, humiliating him, the works."

"Then, how did they end up together?"

"Oh, you know… love is strange… one minute she's gluing feathers to your butt, the next, you're making out in a broom closet. You never know who you're going to end up with. I think I know that better than anyone. If you told eight-year-old me I'd be in love with my best friend, I'd tell you that you were crazy. Of course I was still deep in denial over my attraction to girls at the time…" She shook her head. "Point is, love likes to throw you curve balls… you know, baseball, right? Of course you do. You're with Arnold, you're gonna hear baseball metaphors." It was true, he did use them a lot.

"But… they were together for a very long time, right?"

"Yeah, ever since we came back from your country actually, although they kept it secret for a while…"

Now, I was under no illusions that what I had with Arnold was going to be anything but temporary. Come the summer, he would be returning here, probably for good, while my destiny was, of course, with my own people. His was here. With her, probably. No matter what we had together, I knew that his heart would always truly belong to her. And even though that would be the last thing I would want.. I knew, deep, deep down, a part of me would resent her for it.

"Ah, we're here," Rhonda said suddenly, as the limousine pulled up to an elegant-looking building. A sign reading "La Coeur de Luxe" was mounted over the double doors, the lettering stylized but not overstated. "This is Hillwood's most exclusive boutique. Only the best for my friends."

"This is… very generous," I remarked. Seemingly too generous for someone she had just met.

"Well… I'll let you in on a little secret. My mother is part-owner, so… I get a bit of a discount."

"Ah, Mademoiselle Lloyd, welcome," a well-dressed man obsequiously spoke upon our entrance." Is there anything specific you are looking for today, or are you just browsing?"

"Nothing for me today, Monsieur Cardin," Rhonda replied grasiously. "Unless I see something I like, of course. Today, we're looking for something in a nice evening dress for my friend Shaia here."

"Ah, tres bien," he said. "Come..?"

"It is just 'Shaia'," I said.

"Oui, bien, come this way and we shall take the proper measurements so as to assure a perfect fit. An perhaps we are looking for matching shoes to complete the ensemble?"

"We'll get to that once we find a proper dress," Rhonda replied to him. "Ooh, what about this one?" she said of a green dress. "Seafoam should really bring out those eyes."

"I must say, I don't think I've seen a dress this color," I said. Back home, we only had a certain number of dye colors available. Seafoam green was not among them. A dress this color would be the envy of my people. "I think I would like this very much."

"Well, you heard her. Let's go see if it fits. And if not, they can do the alterations in time for your date."

"That would be very nice," I agreed.

The next quarter-hour or so was taken up in the fitting room, with myself trying on the dress and standing very still while a tailor took notes on whatever modifications would be necessary. I wasn't sure why, as the dress fit just fine, but what did I know about things? I was honestly just grateful we'd found something I liked so quickly.

While I waited for the fitting session to conclude, I became aware of some sort of commotion coming from the front of the store. Rhonda seemed to notice as well, as she poked her head out the door to see what was going on. When she pulled her head back in, there was an alarmed expression on her face.

"Mademoiselle, what-" began the tailor.

"I think we need to get out of here," Rhonda said. "Is there a back way out?"

"Rhonda, what is happening?" I asked.

"Trouble," she replied nervously. "If we can get out of here I can contact someone to handle i-"

"Oi!" A voice shouted. "'O's back 'ere then?" A man dressed in leather and chains, with a shaved head, goatee, and tattoos, pushed his way into the room. He was armed with some sort of oblong metal weapon… not a gun, more of a long barlike club, bent at the end. I noticed Rhonda subtly putting herself between him and us, tensing as if ready to fight. My impression of her until now had been one of polite refinement, but I was beginning to detect steel beneath the silks.

"Right," the man said. "You three. Out where the boss can see you."

"Oh, I don't think we'll be doing that," she said. "Maybe you should come in and try to make us."

"You wot? You think a puny li'l thing like you can get the best of me?"

"If you're so confident, why not prove it?" she replied, beckoning him forward with a gesture.

What came next had to be seen to be believed. The man made an attempt to grab her by the arm, but she smoothly evaded, grabbed his arm and twisted, forcing him to drop the weapon. Then she delivered three quick punches to his chest, staggering him before following up with three rapid roundhouse kicks to the head. The brutish man went down hard. Rhonda smoothly picked up his weapon and handed it to me. "Think you can use this?" she asked.

"Wh-wha-?" I stammered, still unsure I had seen what I had just seen.

"You'll need it if they have anyone guarding the back door. If we catch them by surprise we can take them out quickly."

"What is going on here?" I finally managed.

"It looked like a robbery," she said. "There's a bunch of thugs like this guy in the front, plus their leader. Doesn't look like any of them have guns, but the leader has some kind of high-tech-looking weapon plus some big tank strapped to his back. For all I know, the thing's full of poison gas, so we do not want to provoke him…"

"You speak as though you have experience dealing with such things regularly," I noted. With every moment, I was thinking there was far more to this Rhonda Lloyd than I had first suspected.

"Oh, uh," she said, as if she was realizing something. "Well, you know, a lady of society must be prepared for such things. We are often the targets of such attacks, after all. That's why my father had me take self-defense lessons, in case I ever find myself attacked like that." From the way her eyes darted back and forth as she explained, I sensed that she was leaving something out, but I figured that now was not the time to pursue further answers.

She addressed the tailor. "Now, like I said, is there a back way out?"

"N-not without going back into the main area," he said.

"Lovely," Rhonda replied sarcastically, casually kicking the thug in the head again as he stirred. "You," she said to the tailor. "Get me something to tie this guy up with. Then we'll see if we can sneak out of here. Oh, and put the dress on my tab. She'll be wearing it out."

When the thug had been secured, she motioned to us to follow her. A rack of clothing obscured us from view as we exited, so we paused to take stock of the situation.

There were four other men and one very muscular woman, all dressed in a similar manner to the one who had assaulted us, each with outrageous hairstyles. They were in the process of relieving the boutique's patrons of their valuables, while the leader leveled the nozzle of his odd weapon at them. The leader himself had a tattoo of a snake covering half his face, a large ring hanging from his nose, and hair done up in sharp magenta spikes. "Right," he said. "You bourgie lot best comply, or you get a face full of me peaches n' cream 'ere. 'At's right. All your money, all your jewelry. You lot 'ad it too good too long." Peaches n' cream? What was that man talking about? Just what did that weapon do?

"Hmmph," an elderly matron spoke up. "Do you know who I am? I am Agatha Smythe-Higgins. I refuse to submit to the likes of uncouth riffraff such as yourself."

The leader snickered. "Oi, looks like this one's volunteered to be a demonstration, then," he said, aiming the nozzle of the weapon at her. Beside me, Rhonda tensed, as if she wanted desperately to intervene but had to restrain herself. I wasn't sure exactly what she thought she could do; certainly, she'd proved to be a more than competent fighter, but could she handle multiple opponents and some unknown weapon?

The weapon's demonstration was quickly put on hold when the stores double doors were suddenly thrown open. And my eyes widened when I saw just who had shown up.

"Oh, good," muttered Rhonda, "someone must've gotten to a silent alarm…"

"Oi," the leader said, "Make one move an' the ol' bird gets it."

The newcomer surveyed the scene. She looked just like the icon I'd seen in the gift shop, though her head and body were properly proportionate. She was dressed in some kind of black-and-pink skin-tight outfit, and her eyes were concealed behind some kind of shield, but there was no mistake… I was gazing upon my people's goddess. Had she sensed somehow that one of her patron tribe was in danger?

"So, this is your game?" she said. "Threatening helpless old ladies?" She cracked her upper set of knuckles. "You're not exactly bringing out my compassionate side here."

The old woman in question took the opportunity to swat the distracted criminal with her handbag. "I'll show you helpless," she huffed. The goddess, in turn, advanced on the villain. One of his allies attempted to attack her from behind with a baton but she smoothly backhanded him in the face.

"You asked for it, ya cobber," the villain said, unleashing a cloud of dense mist from his weapon. The goddess stood there for a moment, before waving it away. It seemed as though the mist's only effect was to make her hair limp and lifeless.

"Oh no," she said sarcastically, "he's got a giant steam gun. the point of that was…" she prompted.

"Ohhh…" whispered Rhonda. "Peaches n' Cream. Steam. It's cockney rhyming slang. Which makes him… ohhh god…"

"Well… 'ere's a lot of expensive-like couture 'ere. Steam right ruins that sort of thing, it does."

"Oh lord," the goddess groaned, facepalming. "Steam…punk. That's your name, isn't it. All this, just for a really, really bad pun. Well… I have to give you credit for really committing to this whole bit you've got going here, but… you're going to jail now." She reached out and crushed the weapon's nozzle with her bare hands.

"…wow," I managed to whisper.

"Yeah, she's something, isn't she. Of course, I hear her sister's even better. And pretty. Very pretty. So I hear. I've never actually met her." Rhonda started rambling, but I ignored her. My mind was racing. Here was Xothipacla herself. Right before me. In the flesh. Before I was even aware of what I was doing, I found myself stepping out from behind the clothing rack to get a better look. By now, the police had arrived and were rounding up "Steam Punk" and his allies. Xothipacla was glancing around to make sure everything was going smoothly. As her gaze intersected with my own, she paused, hesitating, and for a moment, I could detect recognition in her expression.

"There's one more tied up in the back," Rhonda advised the police. "We got lucky and managed to get the drop on him."

"All right," the officer said. "We'll of course, need to take statements from everyone here."

I ignored them both. My focus was still on Xothipacla. "Thank you, my goddess," I whispered to her, kneeling."

"Uh… you're… welcome?" she replied, uncomfortably. Was she not used to such worship? "I… should.. really go now," she said, hurrying out. Had… I offended her somehow? Was she aware of my dalliance with Arnold? Of course she was. She was the goddess of love, she knew all when it came to matters of the heart. And here I was, standing in the way of the union of the two saviors of the Green Eyes, who were surely destined for each other. No wonder she was offended.

"Well. Shopping isn't usually like this, I assure you," commented Rhonda. "On the plus side, you're an absolute knockout in that dress. I bet Arnold won't be able to take his eyes off of you."

"Mmm-hmm," I nodded. Not that it mattered anymore. If whatever I had with him wasn't doomed before, it certainly was now.

A.N.: Well, things just got complicated there, didn't they? Of course, we know why Helga's reaction was awkward, but Shaia doesn't know that her boyfriend's ex and her (she thinks) tribe's goddess are one and the same. As far as she knows, she just got the thumbs-down from God.

Jose: Yep, Helga definitely needs a bit of education on Green Eye mythology, especially after that awkward meeting!

Veganmama: Shaia probably heard one of the Shortmans using that particular phrase; in general, she's a bit of a language.

You think it's awkward now, imagine what happens when Helga actually learns Shaia thinks she's her goddess.

Next: Part 2!