Written By Shaun Blankenship

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Gerald answered his door. "Yeah… what are you doing here?"

"Cough up the journal, buddy, I know you have it." Helga propped her hands at the side of the doorway. "Fork it over."

"Girl, what are you talking about?" Gerald scratched at the side of his face. "What journal?"

Phoebe stepped up from behind Helga. "She forced me into talking! I didn't want to do it!"

Gerald lifted an eyebrow at the girl in front of him. "So you know about it."

"I wanna see it with my eyes, hair-boy." She took her hands away from the door and put them at her sides as fists. "If you really stole Arnold's journal, I want to see it for myself."

Gerald put his hands over his face. "You told her that much, Phoebe?"

She nodded guiltily. "Yeah."

Helga folded her arms. "Look, I'm not gonna tell Arnold unless you let me have that journal."

***

"See," Gerald started as the two girls followed him to his room, "Arnold's been my best friend for years. I have no real hateful reason to steal from him, but this I just had to. One day, he had left me up in his room and I found it. When flipping through the pages, I started reading slightly about how he felt for you, Ruth, that girl down the street who dropped out last year."

Helga spoke out in question, "Lila?"

"Nah, the other one. I think her name was Vanessa." They reached his room and he pulled out his key ring. "Anyway, I had to snatch it. When he noticed it missing, I said that he probably just misplaced it. If he knows I stole something this personal from him, he may not trust me. I was gonna return it before school let out."

"How current are the entries?" Helga asked.

After sliding the key in and twisting, Gerald's door opened to reveal his room. "Seeing how I stole it two months ago, it's pretty recent. Are you sure you want to read it? Not everything in there about you is positive."

"Just give me the book!" she yelled. "Come on!" She was now shaking like a withdrawing drug-addict.

"Okay, okay." Gerald walked over to a far-off wall in his room, opened a dresser, and produced a small, red hardcover book. "Here you go, and don't you tell one single person."

"Gerald," she squeaked as she gripped the book, "I'll never say another unkind or incriminating word about you."

"Yeah, that's all good and all," he said as he pushed at her back, "but you gotta get out of here before somebody seen you. You being at my house will make any other people who know of the book suspicious."

"Okay," she drooled as she held the book. "Okay." She started to walk down the stairs with Phoebe.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Gerald scolded. "Phoebe can stay."

***

The only problem is that I know that since then she has changed. I can tell it's not the same person I used to know. That isn't necessarily a bad thing. I liked last year's Helga, but I have to say that for some reason this Helga is… something. She really is something.

***

"Huh?" Helga gazed puzzled at the book. "Hmm, well… this doesn't do me any good." She flipped rapidly through all of the entries in her room at Robert's house, searching for something else she could feed her craving with.

Then she found it.

***

***

"Oh, MAN!" She stood up from her bed and set the book on the dresser beside her. Stepping back from it as if taking caution from a hot flame, she slowly started breathing to stop herself from fainting. "Oh, man!"

A knock swiftly landed on her door causing her heart to jump inside of her ribs. "WHAT?" she snapped back.

The muffled sound of Robert's mother's voice came as soft as possible. "Helga, are you okay in there? What's going on?"

"Um, nothing," she replied calmly. "Nothing's goin' on, I'm just reading a book… with a lot of surprising twists."

"Are you sure?" the mother asked. "Can I come in?"

Helga nodded, mistaking that Robert's mom did not have x-ray vision. She followed it up with, "Oh, yeah, sure. Door's unlocked."

The door slowly creaked open and the familiar face peeped through the crack. "Okay. I was just a little concerned. I was putting towels away and I heard you screaming. Thought that something might be terribly wrong."

Helga grimaced at the thought. "Well, I really appreciate you caring so much, but I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she stated, now a tiny bit annoyed. "I'm sure."

The mother shrugged. "Okay then. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." With that, she shut the door as slowly as she had opened, hoping not to disturb the environment she intruded on.

Once again, Helga nodded and this time waved at the door. "I will." Her hand quickly shot down and she rushed to the book. After finding her page, she sat on her bed and read on.

***

***

Helga scrambled to close the book and slide it under the bed. As soon as she collected herself back on top of the mattress, she flung her hands out to the ends of the mattress and sighed with fluttering breath. "Oh, Arnold… you do love me!" She slapped herself but could not wipe the dopey grin off of her face. "Oh, dearest Arnold…"

She quickly fell asleep on the bed, still frozen in the same position when she woke up; arms wide and smiling, gripping on her thoughts as her teeth did her bottom lip.

***

***

Helga snickered at the book's remarks. "That's right, football-head. You certainly are stupid."

A knock came at her door. Crimeny! Does it ever stop? Robert poked his head in as Helga put the book down on the bed. "Um, I see that you're awake now."

"Yeah," she gaspingly let out. "It would seem that way."

"Well, it is ten o'clock in the morning and you haven't come out yet." As he spoke, his eyes never lost their concentration on his shoes. "I came in here to see if you were awake. Breakfast?"

"I'll be out in a minute, Rob-Job." That's another good one. "By the way, don't ever come in here to see if I'm awake," she spouted out matter-of-factly. "What if I was sleeping in the nude?"

Robert swallowed all confidence he had left in himself. "Well, you don't sleep naked. You told me."

"Yes, but what if I had?" She crossed her arms. "I also toss and turn in my sleep. What if you came in here and I had lost my blanket in the middle of the night?"

He raised his hands to show his innocence to her. "Sorry, my fault. It won't happen again."

"Ah, I don't mind anyway." She smiled, letting him know that the whole argument was just a joke. "Smile, tonight's the prom."

He grinned at her and closed the door carefully, allowing her to get back to the journal. "Let's see, what else is in this thing?"

***

***

Helga held the book away from her in confusion. "Who is Vanessa anyway?"

***

***

She sped through the pages. "Forget that, what's the last entry say?"

***

***

She blinked, releasing the mist gathering in her eyes. "Oh, no," she muttered softly in despair. She turned the page back to read the entry from the night before.

***

***

Her fist pounded slow and hard on the door. "Open up, Curly! Open up!"

A boy with glasses greeted her with a confused glare. "Hey, what's that for? All you had to do was knock, for cryin' out loud."

Helga reached out, yanked Curly's shirt collar, and shook him violently. "Are you going to prom?"

Even though being physically threatened, the ego inside him instantly shone through. "Why, Helga, I had no idea…"

"I don't want to go with you, you idiot!" She released him. "I need your ticket!"

"Well, I am going, but my date will be extremely upset if I wasn't there to dance with her."

Helga quickly got a hold of her self and sighed heavily. "Curly, we've all noticed it and been meaning to tell you about it, but Gloria does not like you. It just was not meant to be."

He backed off a few steps and distanced himself with his arm outstretched. "WE WERE MEANT TO BE! YOU'LL SEE! I SHALL BE WITH HER TONIGHT! AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA…"

She jumped forward, knocked his arm out of the way and smacked him in the face. "Get real, freak! Just give me the ticket! You can always sneak through the back door."

Curly stood frozen in his shoes. "Hmm… why can't you sneak in through the back?"

"Because it's dangerous and risky." Helga moved beside him and nudged him on the arm. "Sounds like it's right up your alley there, sport."

"Yes," he said rubbing his chin. "Yes, it does. Okay, you can have my pass."

***

"Hey, Robert," Helga started as she stood at the payphone. Sure, going home and talking to him would save fifty cents, but this way was easier. "Is Rhonda driving you to prom?"

The voice on the phone hesitated. "Um… well, we worked it out and she's gonna have a Limo pick us up. Why?"

"I talked to Jim," she lied, "and he said he's gonna be there but he's gonna be late. I wanted to know if I could maybe hitch a ride with you two."

"Well, I don't know." A TV could be heard in the background, which Helga could clearly hear was a 'Great Grape' commercial. "It's going to be me and her alone in that back seat. She may not enjoy you sitting with us."

"Oh, that's okay. I can sit up in the passenger seat with the chauffeur." She tapped her nails against the side of the metal shell to the phone. "Just have the partition rolled up and I won't even be in sight."

"I can ask," her friend replied unsure. "I'll tell you what she says when you get home."

Helga rolled her eyes. "That's the thing though. I'm not coming home until later. I have some things to take care of in town. I wanted to know when she'd be around if it were okay. How 'bout I just call in a half-hour? Will you have the answer then?"

"I should." The sound of a chip crunching over the phone pierced the silence. "Call back in a half-hour."

"Okay; thanks, Chief." She quickly hung the phone back on the hook and ran as fast as she could away from the booth. "Yes!"