Sailor Helga: SGR
(Special Thanks to Sokai for all the feedback & support. Love ya, girl - you rock!)
Criminy...I can't believe I'm starting ANOTHER one of these diaries...
Just finished filling up my third "little pink book" (it helps to by them in bulk, I guess).
Actually, it's been a while since I've had to crack open a new one. Two years, to be precise. Man, how time flies. Seems like only yesterday I was writing about the whacked-out adventures I was having in the fourth grade. Heh, I'm sure Dr. Bliss would think I'm a nutjob. Oh well...
School's starting up again in a week. It'll be nice to see my friends again. Well, okay – FRIEND, but Phoebe's the only friend I need anyway. It'll be interesting to see which kids in my class had growth spurts over the summer break. Especially Arnold...
I've finally outgrown these stupid pink dresses handed down to me by Olga; now I can at least wear her second-hand jeans and not look like a complete tool. Found this old hat in Gerald Field and decided to claim it as my own; Miriam hates it, so it's here to stay.
My summer? Sucked, what's new? My life's been pretty dull since that whole...moon thing with the cat a couple years ago. Phoebe and I talk about from time to time, but most of the time we keep what happened to ourselves. Search me if Princess Rhonda's done the same – I'm sure she's blabbed the entire episode to Nadine by now, but no matter. It'll only make her look all the more crazy...
We don't really hang out that much, Rhonda and I. It's kind of sad, really, considering what we've been through. But I guess it just goes to show you that some people never change. Wait, what am I talking about? It's no skin off my nose. Like I'd wanna be friends with Princess Rhondaloid anyway...
I haven't seen Arnold that much this summer. He just came back last weekend from a camping trip with his grandpa. I remember the time when I went camping with him; that was so much fun. And Big Bob got poison ivy, ha! One of the best moments ever.
There's talk that Arnold's been hanging around with Lila a lot lately. I hope not – I thought he got over Miss Perfect. Or perhaps I should say, Miss Imperfect; she seems like such a different person now. Black shirt, ripped overalls, messy hair. She's still insufferably nice to everyone, but I can tell that being dirt-poor is getting the best of her. Probably doesn't help that her father is such a loser; apparently he's having a tough time holding on to a stable job.
Criminy, even in the private sanctuary of these pages I can't avoid talking about her. I guess that means it's time for me to wrap this up. School starts tomorrow, and I still need to borrow money from Miriam's purse to cover lunch.
"Helga...Helga, it's time to wake honey..."
Helga heard Miriam's voice drone as she made her way into her bedroom. Helga covered her head with her pillow in defiance and growled loudly.
"Don't you have school today, sweetie?"
"Grr...just give me 5 more minutes, Miriam," grumbled Helga, underneath a mountain of blankets. "I have plenty of time. It's only...what time is it, anyway?" an arm emerged from the bed and groped blindly for the alarm clock sitting on the dresser beside her bed. The arm then retreated back into the fabric mass, and there was silence, followed by a loud, panicked "AAAAAHH!" as Helga literally tumbled to the floor.
"IT'S 8 O'CLOCK!" screamed Helga. "Why didn't you tell me it was 8 o'clock? I've got to be at school in 20 minutes!"
"Oh...I thought...I thought you didn't start until 8:30..." rebutted Miriam.
Helga wasted no time arguing with her scatterbrained mother, instead making a beeline for the closet to throw some clothes on. She appeared literally seconds later in a wrinkled pair of jeans and a pink dress that she dug up from the dirty laundry hamper. She grabbed her backpack and zipped by Miriam.
"Bye dear, have fun at school..." said Miriam, still left standing at the doorway.
Helga raced downstairs and into the kitchen, where Big Bob was busy sitting and reading the newspaper.
"Police have reported a dramatic increase in robberies over the past several weeks…" the radio blared on the kitchen counter. "No injuries have been documented, but authorities are advising citizens to lock their doors and to enforce a curfew for minors…"
"Mornin', Big Bob!" she said, as her hand stealthily went for his plate of toast of eggs and scooped it up as she went for the door. "Bye, Big Bob!"
"Grgdmprh...mornin'," muttered Big Bob, unaware of the theft on his breakfast until she was well on her way down the street. He slammed his fist angrily on the table. "Darn it, Olga!"
Helga kept up a swift but steady jog; if she was going to make it before the first morning bell, there would be no time for walking. She sensed that there was someone behind her so she looked over her shoulder. There, only a couple a feet away, and also jogging at a rather brisk pace, was a petite girl with black hair down to her shoulders, wearing a blue shirt with matching blue skirt. Her glasses bounced up and down on her nose as she ran, making Helga chortle.
"Seriously, Phoebe?" laughed Helga, slowing down only slightly so that she could run alongside her best friend. "You're late for school? I must be seeing things!"
Phoebe panted, clearly out of breath. "I will not...get a tardy...on the first day of school..."
Helga rolled her eyes. "Criminy...come on," she removed her backpack and pointed to the available space on her back.
Phoebe blushed. "Helga, I can't...!"
"It's either that or be late for school!" warned Helga. Finally, Phoebe hopped on Helga's back, allowing herself to be piggybacked the rest of the way to school.
"You're lucky you're light," Helga smirked.
With only a few minutes to spare, the old, austere school building of P.S. 118 appeared in the horizon. After crossing the street, Phoebe jumped off her friend's shoulders and back onto the ground. "Thanks, Helga," she said.
"No problem," said Helga, flexing her arm muscles. "I needed the workout anyway – I've vegged out WAY too much this summer break."
The two friends made their way to the side of the school, through the playground, and cut through Woodrow Wilson auditorium, as it lead to a quicker route into the upper levels of the school, where grades 6-8 were taught.
"Do you suppose we'll be in the same class this year?" asked Phoebe.
"I hope so," replied Helga, as she pushed the door of the auditorium opened and it filtered into the main hall, where all the other students had congregated.
"Aren't you excited? As of today, we are officially sixth-graders! We are now considered the adolescent ambassadors of this fine academic establishment!"
Helga scoffed. "Big whoop – now instead of being the most senior of the juniors, we're scraping the bottom of the barrel again."
Helga established her point by motioning towards Wolfgang – now a seventh-grader – as he held Sid upside-down and shook him for his lunch money. Edmund and the other seventh-graders nudged each other and laughed. "See? Nothing's changed."
As she spoke, Arnold passed Helga's peripheral vision, stopping her dead in her tracks. Arnold didn't notice her, but Helga simply watched as he crossed her path. Phoebe waved a hand in front of her best friend's face. "Are you sure...?"
Helga quickly gave her head a shake, then scowled at the giggling Phoebe.
"Let's go – we wouldn't want to sully your perfect attendance record," remarked Helga drily. Together they entered their homeroom class just as the morning bell rang.