*****Esmeralda ~ I was hoping someone would notice; that's one of my favorite movies, and it inspired that scene! TY
"Arnold," Stella said gently, still causing a rush of dread to run down his spine. We give you space because we trust you. But if you keep making these choices," she spoke, maintaining eye contact, "it'll worry us, and that trust will eventually dwindle." Stella's eyebrows turned up. "We know you're capable of so much better."
Arnold set his fork down with a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on his plate, as he muttered, "I know I messed up. "He considered explaining that it wasn't his idea but realized that didn't change his responsibility. "I guess at the moment, I didn't consider the consequences. I just wanted us all to get together and have fun. I'm sorry."
Stella and Miles exchanged a sympathetic look and back to their son.
Miles opens his mouth to speak, hesitating, his face etched in disappointment and understanding. He remembered what it was like to be a teenager, and he didn't want Arnold to go down the wrong path. "What you and your friends did was a crime—trespassing on private property," He explained. "Luckily, Officer Ryan has made arrangements with the school. You'll be cleaning up after school every day, as decided by Principal Hernandez, for however long it takes."
Arnold nodded. He knew they were cutting him some slack. "Okay, that sounds fair."
Stella cleared her throat. "Even more than it being a crime, the injury to that boy could have been worse. Fatal. Please think about it before you partake in risky activities for fun."
Arnold lowered his head. "Okay. I understand, and I will."
"Alright, son," Miles said, "you can head to your room if you'd like."
Arnold nodded again, grabbing the plates and utensils. As he cleaned up, his mind replayed the evening's events, the guilt lingering as he retreated to his room.
Arnold picked up a few clothes from the floor, pausing with them in his hands.
They're right; I played a part in this, too.
Arnold yawned and dropped the items when Gerald knocked on his door. Gerald entered, greeting him with a confused look. "Hey, my main Arnold. Did you redecorate again?"
Arnold tossed his clothes in the hamper. "I didn't," he said, collecting some items off the floor. "Rhonda did it. I plan on changing it to something different, but I'm still deciding."
Gerald observed Arnold's puffy eyes and tensed posture. "You alright, man?"
Arnold sat on the bed, placing his hands in a prayer position. "I just feel disappointed."
Gerald collapsed down next to him. "Are you disappointed in Rhonda?"
"Yes." Arnold bowed his head. "And in myself. I stuck in this relationship out of habit, hoping it would improve. But it didn't. Also, I was involved in what happened at the water tower, and I didn't realize until I spoke to my parents that some of it tied back to me."
Gerald jerked his neck back. "Come again? You were there for Eugene when he needed you."
Arnold met Gerald's gaze. "My actions, or lack thereof, led me here. If I had been more proactive, maybe Eugene wouldn't have been a target." He threaded a hand through his hair. "And with Rhonda, I expected her to stay and support Eugene with me. I know she cares about people in her way, but maybe not in a way that aligns with my values."
Gerald's brows rose when he nodded. "That's pretty deep, Arnold. I respect that you're taking accountability." Gerald stared out the window in thought. "Can I ask why you're with Rhonda?" He squeezed his eyes shut. That sounded more judgmental than he intended. "Don't get me wrong, she can be cool, but we've known forever that she's self-absorbed."
Arnold turned away from his friend and sighed. "I was with her because it seemed right... but even when it stopped... I held on for the wrong reasons." He rested his chin in his hand. "I think I convinced myself that if I stayed with her, I'd feel something more; now I see, I've been more into the idea of us."
Gerald grinned wryly. "Yeah, I was there with Chanel last year. What I'm building now is different." His grin turned more confident, and his chest pushed out, lost in thought or memory for a few seconds.
Arnold smiled faintly, knowing that Gerald had been dating Phoebe. He recalled those talks with Gerald before he finalized the relationship with his ex-girlfriend. "Oh, right. I remember those conversations. Thanks for talking this through with me."
The two shared a smile, both knowing they'd come full circle.
"No problem, man."
The best friends spent more time together, watching TV, tossing a basketball, and discussing less complicated things. It was a needed change from all the tense conversations lately.
Alone again, Arnold juggled a tennis ball with his eyes narrowed on a picture of Rhonda. Although he was still battling feelings of guilt, he felt more clear.
The following week in school, Arnold started his assigned cleaning by sweeping up in the hallway. Most of the school was empty, with only a few students and staff leaving from club meetings. With all the silence, his mind reviewed his conversation with Gerald, and he knew what he had to do once he left the school grounds.
As he swept near a lit classroom, Arnold could hear a few laughs. He tiptoed and leaned close to the door to avoid anyone seeing him. Wicked cackles hit his ears, and he immediately knew it came from Helga. From what he could tell, she was playfully mocking Sam, and everyone laughed.
Hearing Helga give her best impressions of each of her club members made him think of the time Helga roasted everyone in their school clubhouse in the 4th grade. His eyes closed, visualizing Helga poking fun at his nine-year-old self. A few chuckles rolled out of his mouth. He opened his eyes and dove out of sight to avoid getting caught eavesdropping.
He leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes again. He saw Helga imitating his girlfriend, and it sunk in further that Rhonda had always been the same.
Arnold thought about his recent birthday. He spent it with Rhonda, wearing luxurious clothes and surrounded by strangers. When he'd rather spend it somewhere cozy with friends, he couldn't believe he had let things go on like this for so long.
She was always so put together and sophisticated. That used to draw me in, but now it feels empty.
Arnold's head dropped as he considered his superficiality. He realized that, to some extent, he had valued those things and brought this all on himself.
The somewhat faint sound of another girl, a very opposite girl's mischievous voice and laughter, lifted the corners of Arnold's mouth.
Even with her prickly edges, Helga never seems fixated on material things; she seems natural and authentic.
Arnold shuffled the mop back and forth, lost in thought. Each stroke reflected his doubts sweeping away. As he mopped, he pondered the disparity between his relationships. He felt a growing realization: he had been settling for a relationship that wasn't fulfilling. The weight of his actions—and inactions—pressed heavily on him.
He sighed deeply, the mop swishing rhythmically in sync with his introspection.
The silence in the hallway strongly contrasts Arnold's chaotic thoughts. The mop's wet slapping against the floor was almost therapeutic, a rhythmic distraction.
Arnold jutted at the vibrating coming from his pants pocket. He pulled out his phone and saw another text from Rhonda. Is this really what I want? He wondered, the question echoing in his mind as he wiped away streaks of regret from the linoleum.
Arnold could feel his muscles beginning to ache with each movement. He paused and stared into space, taking a moment to stretch his arms. Then, he heard footsteps approaching; he snapped back to reality.
"Watch out!" Arnold called out. Seeing the girl slip, he maneuvered quickly and caught her by the waist without thinking.
"Geez, football head! First, you headbutt me in the hall, and now this." She wiggled out of his grip. "Why are you cleaning anyway?" she asked, still annoyed.
"I'm supposed to do this after school every day because of what happened with Eugene at the water tower," Arnold blandly explained.
Helga's frown faded, and her shoulders dropped lower. "Oh yeah, Phoebe told me about that. Is he okay?"
"Yeah, I think so; his parents are letting him stay home from school for a few days," he said with a slouched posture, spinning the mop and putting it back in the bucket.
"That's tough; that kid can't catch a break," Helga said, looking him over with raised brows. "Hey, Arnold, are you okay?" She asked, resting her hand on his shoulder.
Arnold's gaze lingered on Helga's hand resting on his shoulder. The warmth of her touch was a comforting contrast to his sadness. But then, as he looked into her eyes, the heaviness returned, and he realized how overwhelmed he was of pretending and forcing something that wasn't there.
"Yeah, I'm just a little tired and disappointed about certain things, certain people. But I'll be okay," he said, finishing with a tight smile. "Anyway," Arnold shook his head. "How's your club and writing going?"
Her eyes blinked as she got lost in her thoughts.
Perhaps he's still the same old Arnold, putting the world's weight on himself.
A vision of the two of them talking and laughing became clear in Helga's mind. It started to make her feel more trusting of Arnold and opened up some old emotions she had long buried.
"Helga?" He whispered, and his face was somewhat concerned.
"Huh...Oh, uh," she finally pulled her hand back, rubbing her arm as if unsure what to do with it. "It's going pretty good." Her voice wavered slightly, and Arnold squinted, mouthing 'okay' as he saw her cheeks flush a lighter shade.
Why was she nervous all of a sudden?
His eyes stayed on her face, curiosity bubbling up. Noticing her gaze softened, something tender slipped through her usual sharp demeanor. It caught him off guard, making him want to understand her more because it appeared she was showing some genuine underlying emotions.
He spotted how her eyelashes fluttered a bit each time she blinked, giving her a look he had never seen on her before. Arnold's eyes lowered to her chest, seeing her subtly panting. His gaze quickly returned to her eyes, seeing how almost doe-like they appeared, with something peering out that he couldn't fully process. He opened his mouth to say more, but there was a hesitation as if he was grappling with words he couldn't quite express.
Arnold stepped closer to Helga, and her feet moved on their own accord, neither fully aware of what was happening or would happen.
Arnold's heart skipped a beat, feeling the invisible pull between them. He stepped closer, feeling his heart race for reasons he couldn't quite name. Her eyes held something soft and tender, making him feel exposed in a way he hadn't expected.
But before he could make sense of it,
"Hola." Curly's voice shattered the stillness, and the moment slipped away before he could grasp it.
Arnold's eyes snapped away from Helga's towards the unexpected voice.
He sighed and took some steps back. "Hey, Curly," Arnold said, his eyes still peeking over at Helga; who was grasping at her chest.
His mind still held a vision of her face before Curly interrupted.
Was there something more to that look, or am I imagining things?
He shook his head slightly, trying to push the thought aside, but the weight of the unspoken moment between them stayed, gnawing at the back of his mind.
Helga gasped dramatically at the boy in a knight costume. "Why'd you have to sneak up on us like that?" She raised her arms high and scolded. "I swear you're going to be the death of me, kid," Helga said with a satirical tone.
"My apologies, comrades." Curly rubbed the top of his bowl-cut hair. "You see, I was hoping to catch Sam and ask if I could walk her home." He gave a cheeky eyebrow raise.
Helga grinned with a hint of humor. "Oh? Well, you missed her. That girly walks faster than me." She poked him in the chest. "I tell you all the time. Always strike while the iron is hot." She suggested Curly should have spoken up before.
Arnold watched Helga talking to Curly, casually playing with her long braid and tightening the pink bow at the end. Her eyes rounded, and a light shone through them. He noted how at ease and natural their interaction was, and his brows knitted, because that gave him a feeling he couldn't identify.
"Duly noted, Madame." The energetic guy's face became more serious as he focused on Arnold. "Thanks for helping out, my pal Eugene. We miss him for rehearsals. But I'm covering for him."
Arnold rubbed between his brows. "You don't have to thank me; I just reacted... as most people would."
Helga watched the two interact, paying more attention to Arnold. Even though he was his usual easygoing self, his optimism seemed to dim. She felt a pang in her heart and a desire to hug him but stopped herself.
Curly was talking about the new play, and Arnold turned to Helga, whom he could feel watching him. The two held a searching gaze, feeling drawn to open up but with clinging uncertainty.
They turned back to Curly. He was twirling the mop, acting out a scene from his play. "And scene." He handed the mop back to Arnold. "Coolio, well, since I'm here. Can I walk my best girlfriend home?" He offered his arm, and Helga inserted hers. Curly looked at Arnold. "I mean, girlfriend, as in a friend who happens to be a girl." He humorously clarified.
Arnold blinked with a somewhat dry face. "I know."
"See you later, Arnold, "Helga called back, her grin lingering as she walked away with Curly.
"Yeah, don't let the man overwork you later, Arnold, "Curly added.
Arnold watched Helga heading out with Curly, her words persisting in his mind. Something about her concern felt different—genuine, unselfish. It starkly contrasted with what he had been feeling with Rhonda lately.
But before he could dwell on it, the sound of stomping heels pulled him back to the present.
Arnold set up two warning cones so no one would fall. He leaned against the wall, studying the floor to see if it was clean, and began to reflect on the conversation.
Strike while the iron is hot—hmm, she's right. I must stop procrastinating on ending this; it's unfair to Rhonda.
Arnold recalled their recent arguments about priorities and support as he prepared to confront Rhonda. Rhonda had often seemed more invested in appearances than any deeper issues; the incident with Eugene was a turning point that highlighted their disconnect.
Arnold stood outside Rhonda's house, the fall wind moving through his golden locks, his phone buzzing with another text.
He took a deep breath, feeling a mix of apprehension and resolve. His recent conversation with Gerald had crystallized his thoughts.
Rhonda opened the door, her smile faltering as she saw Arnold's serious expression. "Arnold! Darling! I didn't expect you."
"Hey, Rhonda, "Arnold said, forcing a smile. He stood with one hand in his pocket. "Can we talk?"
Rhonda stepped aside, and they settled on the couch. Arnold glanced around the opulent living room, a stark reminder of the superficial nature of his relationship with Rhonda. He remembered how their arguments often centered on material things. As Rhonda's voice faded into the background, Arnold longed for something more—a connection built on trust and shared values, someone who understood him, someone who didn't put up a front, someone real.
Hearing a pretentious laugh hit his ears as Rhonda ranted about her parents, Arnold's mind drifted. A memory of Helga's laugh—rough around the edges but real—floated to the surface. The contrast was stark, and it gnawed at him.
Arnold eyeballed this girl in her shimmering house robe, realizing these issues had been simmering.
He coughed and cleared his throat loudly, silencing Rhonda. Arnold rubbed his hands together. "I've been thinking a lot," Arnold began, his voice steady. "I've realized that this relationship isn't working for me."
Rhonda tilted her head to one side. "Huh? What does that mean?"
Arnold blew out his cheeks before explaining. "I'll be honest; I've been staying in this thinking and hoping things would improve. That wasn't fair to either of us, and I'm sorry." His eyes circled her face briefly, seeing the shock and confusion. "I felt alone when Eugene was hurt. You were supposed to be there with me."
Rhonda fiddled with her bracelet, then crossed her arms and legs. Her eyes directed straight ahead, and she sank further back into the satin cushions. "Arnold, I knew Sid and Harold were planning something with Eugene." She paused, feeling Arnold's eyes burning into the side of her face. "It was supposed to be a joke, but I didn't think he would get hurt. None of us did. When he did, I panicked and didn't know how to handle it all." She confessed, peeking over at him.
Arnold stared introspectively at the oriental rug beneath his feet, processing her words. "I understand freezing up and panicking because it shouldn't have happened in the first place," Arnold said in a slight low growl. He inhaled, slowly letting out a breath. "But for me, it highlighted our different priorities. I need someone who shares my values and can be there in tough times and not run away." He paused. "And I don't see this relationship improving."
Rhonda turned her body to face Arnold straight on, her eyes blazing with fire, and let out a harsh breath. "This is absurd. So I make one mistake, and that's it."
Arnold held his palms up briefly. "Look, I've been at fault, too. I stayed in this relationship because it was easier than facing how wrong we are for each other." Arnold angled his body to face her after hearing her exasperated sigh. "And it's not just one mistake, Rhonda. Think about it; we're constantly on different pages. I feel like I'm talking to the wall whenever I suggest we stay home or at least go somewhere less showy. Even within our conversations, there's a disconnect."
Rhonda's voice trembled as tears welled up. "So, this is happening?" Rhonda's voice wavered as she took in Arnold's serious expression.
Arnold nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and resolve. "Yes. It's been like this for a while. And it's just not enough anymore."
Rhonda looked down and sucked her teeth, poking her mouth out. "You'll regret this," she said, but the tremor in her voice gave away her real feelings. Rhonda wiped her face, putting on her best pageant smile. "Stop being silly, and let me just get you something to drink or eat. Then we can talk this through."
Arnold straightened up with his hands firmly on his thighs. "I'm not interested in talking or working this out."
She stumped her heel on the floor, not used to things not going her way. Seeing Arnold not budging and standing his ground, Rhonda caved. "I guess I didn't see how disconnected we were," she stubbornly mumbled, biting her lip, her voice breaking. "But you're right."
Arnold slowly nodded. "I wish things had been different, Rhonda. But we've been moving in different directions, so I think this is for the best for both of us." Arnold stood up and put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you going to be okay?"
She looked up with a smile on her lip and did a little hair flip. "Of course, I'm Rhonda Wellington Lloyd."
He squinted at her. "Yes, you are," Arnold laughed behind a closed-mouth smile. "See you around, Rhonda."
When Arnold walked outside, he immediately felt the slightly cold breeze contrast with Rhonda's toasty home. He felt the finality of his decision. As he climbed into his car, knowing the clarity he gained would help him address the issues honestly and move forward with purpose.
He shuffled to his room and collapsed onto his bed, his body worn but his mind unsettled, caught between the emptiness of the night and the questions that followed. His phone buzzed, a new message lighting up the screen:
Helga: I hope you didn't mop away all your football-headedness.
Helga: lol. How are you?
A faint smile appeared on his lips as he read Helga's message in her voice. Her playful but sincere words penetrated the chaos in his mind, leaving him with an unnamed but undeniable emotion.
Arnold's fingers hovered over the screen, a grin tugging at his lips. He typed and erased a few words before finally settling on a response.
Arnold: I'll try to keep my head intact ;) What's going on with you?