Arnold looked sad during breakfast on Thursday, so Helga assumed that Pragma wasn't a dump. She wondered when Phil planned to move there, but didn't ask; she tried to steer the topic towards something that would cheer up Arnold.

"Olga sold her car yesterday," Helga said. "You know who bought it? Shirley Kaline!"

Arnold gasped. "Mickey's wife bought your sister's car?"

"Cool, huh?" Helga took a bite of her breakfast.

"Speaking of cars," Phil said, "I'm giving mine to Arnold's mother. I won't need it once I move to Pragma."

Arnold looked glumly at his half-finished breakfast. Helga sighed.

"Do they serve tapioca at Pragma?" Helga asked. If she was doomed to spend date nights there until college—assuming that Phil wouldn't live past ninety—she hoped the place would have good snacks.

"Sure do," Phil said. "Not sure how big the pearls are though. Arnold doesn't like the small ones."

"So I heard," Helga said.

Arnold didn't look any happier, and Helga's breakfast wasn't even close to finished. Think, Helga, think! What does Arnold like?

"Was Easy Growing on this week?" Helga asked.

"No," Arnold replied. Then he stood. "Do you wanna go on a date after school?"

"A date?" Helga repeated. The suggestion was so sudden and unexpected that it took a couple seconds for her to process it. "Oh, yes! Anywhere, my love!" Then she blushed. I just called him my love in front of his family.

Arnold smiled, and Helga smiled back.

I wonder where we'll go, Helga thought. Maybe to the skate park? Or the arcade? Wait—it's Thursday! What about homework? I hope he's not planning a library study date...

Despite her objections, Helga smiled again. At least I won't be at the cell phone store.

There would, in fact, be a test tomorrow, but the fact that it was an ELA test made it less annoying for Helga. Maybe I'll impress Arnold with my knowledge of grammar, usage and mechanics.

"So," Arnold said, as he, Helga, and their best friends walked to the cafeteria, "does anyone have a plan to get tapioca back?"

"If my calculations are correct," Phoebe said, "the school will lose sixty-six dollars per student who only buys lunch on Wednesdays in October, though I also included the last two days of September, since the first day of October falls on a Wednesday."

"Sixty-six dollars." Helga blinked. "That's it?"

"Per student," Phoebe said, sounded more hopeful than Helga felt. "The boys and I together will cost them nearly two-hundred." Helga, of course, wasn't exactly boycotting; her parents stopped giving her lunch money in April.

"What if that's not enough?" Helga asked, as she approached her usual lunch table.

They all sat down with their home-brought lunches. "Um..." Arnold avoided eye contact. "I haven't come up with another plan yet."

"Well I did," Helga said. "I'm taking matters into my own hands. I..." she paused for dramatic effect, "will impersonate the lunch lady."

Gerald's face wrinkled with confusion. "What? What will that do?"

"My plan," Helga said, "is to impersonate Maura while ordering pudding. Our pudding—tapioca pudding."

Phoebe gasped. "Helga, that's illegal! You could get sent to juvenile detention!"

Helga cackled. "Only if I get caught."

"Maura's employment could get terminated," Phoebe said. "She could get sent the bill!"

"Except the kids will buy all the pudding, and the school staff will realize they made a mistake cutting back on it."

"But Helga," Phoebe said, "the staff already knows that tapioca sells well. I believe our boycott has a better chance of succeeding."

Helga looked at Arnold. "What do you think, love? Boycott, or impersonation?"

"Boycott," Arnold said. "I'd miss you if you went to juvie."

The words I'd miss you filled Helga with joy. She doubted that two geeks, a geek's boyfriend, and an outcast could convince enough people to boycott school lunch, but she wasn't about to give up.