"So let me get this straight, Arnold, you and Helga kissed?" said a african-american 4th grader pacing the room of his football headed best friends' room, a week after a certain field trip, to a certain jungle, on a certain quest to find one's parents.
The football headed ten-year old hesitated. "Um, yeah, I kind of kissed her, but mostly yeah."
"Yeah, I know, I saw everything!" Gerald grimaced. Can't help but remember his best friend almost swallowing the girl that claimed she 'hated' him for years!
"I mean," Gerald continued. "You practically dipped her back, and shoved your tongue down her throat!"
Arnold blushed. "I-I-I did n-not!"
Gerald raised an eyebrow, "By the way you're stuttering, tells me that you're lying."
Gerald paced to the left.
Arnold could do only nothing as he watched his best friend struggle to comprehend all of this. "Look Gerald, I know it seems weird that I kissed her but-"
Gerald turned around, like he'd been shot. "WEIRD? Arnold, this whole situation is 9-yards past weird! Since when do you have feelings for Helga G. Pataki?"
Arnold looked absently into space, and with a love-sick smile, dazedly replied, "Since I found out how brave, intelligent, poetic, selfless, beautiful, and caring she is."
Gerald froze, choosing to stay silent.
The blond-headed boy went on. "She's nice and mean, she's soft and hard. I've gotten to know the real her Gerald, under that hard, rough exterior, is a soft mushy center. She's-" He paused searching to find the right word to describe her, "amazing."
If Gerald's jaw could have dropped any further, it would have fallen off.
There was an awkward silence for a few moments.
"So," Arnold cleared his throat coming out of his daze, "Did I bring too much on you man?"
Gerald rubbed his arm, "N-no man, I'm good. So um-" He cleared his throat. "Do you like her, like her?"
The question hit Arnold like a ton of bricks. He did didn't he? It was hard to tell.
He knew he suddenly had strong feelings for her, but for some reason 'like like' didn't seem to describe his feelings. When he saw her butterflies came to his stomach, ever since a week ago, she's the only thing that been on his mind. He thought of her as a complete angel sent to him from above. And considering the fact he knows she loves him, by the way she blurted out her feelings on the FTi building.
Arnold had come to a decision on how he felt.
"Well I-" He started, "I-" Nervously, he started rubbing the back of his head, avoiding the contact of Gerald.
"You?" Gerald persuaded him to go on.
"I think I'm in love with her."
Somewhere else across town, Helga G. Pataki, layed comfortably, on some pillows on her bed, doing nothing more but writing down the past events from this week.
Dear Diary, I can't help but think he regrets it... What you may ask? The whole 'Helga, I know how you feel about me, and I feel the same way' thing, and that kiss. Haaaaaaa...mmmm... ..Sorry, getting off topic. But anyways since then, it's been longing stares in class and on the bus, and sometimes before I can even ask him what he's looking at, he turns around quickly, like he has committed a crime or something! I mean criminy! If he has something to tell me than why not approach me?
I haven't seen Arnold for a week now. Well, besides the fact he keeps staring at me everywhere I go. Making matters worse, my face grows hot before I can even utter out an, "What are you looking at football head?" And even that comes out in a stutter.
Haaa, that kiss. How soft his lips were... So moist and succulent! And his body pressed against mine in the heart of that jungle.
I can't help but think he regrets it...
What you may ask? The whole 'Helga, I know how you feel about me, and I feel the same way' thing, and that kiss.
..Sorry, getting off topic. But anyways since then, it's been longing stares in class and on the bus, and sometimes before I can even ask him what he's looking at, he turns around quickly, like he has committed a crime or something! I mean criminy! If he has something to tell me than why not approach me?
She paused, tapping her purple pen against her bottom lip, as if thinking of more to say.
Then it dawned on her.
What if he did regret kissing her? What if it had only been that he'd been appreciative of her help? And was just in the heat of the moment?
She hated thinking about the thought. She'd long for the day in which Arnold loved her back.
She reached into her jumper and pulled out her locket. Giving it a longing stare, she felt her eyes begin to water, as she stared into the Arnold picture, with his half-lidded gaze.
"Oh Arnold," She spoke softly as a few tears flooded her vision. "Why don't you love me?"