A/N- Hey everyone! I'm sorry for not updating. College crapplications are finally finished. I tried to make the chapter as long as possible. I now present Chapter 5 of Love is Blind. Enjoy, everyone and thank you for your patience! 3

Helga's P.O.V.

Holy shit on a stick! As disgusting and unappealing as that sounds, I really don't give a rat's ass. What a night! Well, technically, morning. Oh, who cares? I'm as happy as a pig rolling in shit.

After all, it's not everyday that the boy you're in love with for thirteen years makes out with you after he apologizes.

Anyway, by the time I arrived home, it was extremely late. I don't really need to describe how late. For a school night, it was way passed my curfew. Thankfully, Big Bob was asleep, snoring like a hibernating bear and Miriam was passed out on the couch, courtesy of her smoothies.

The last thing I needed from them was to waste my time by actually pretending they care.

Please. If Olga came home this late, Big Bob would buy her a damn Bentley and treat her like the Queen of England. Psh. What a moron.

So, by the time I came home from the park, it was exactly 2:52 in the morning. Now, any normal girl would be asleep. Or, girls in my case who just came home from the park would put on their pajamas and hit the sack. The sissy preppy ones would worry about getting their eight hours of sleep to avoid a zit. Lord. What a bunch of maroons. All the oil from the shit they plaster on their faces is what gives them their zits.

The term coco buttered bitches was invented for a reason.

I, on the other hand, do the most logical thing after my current ordeal. I call up my dear friend, Phoebe.

Why am I calling her at almost three in the morning?

Doi! Because Phoebe is the only one beside myself up at three in the morning!

I wonder why she's not in bed, as I dial her cell phone, expecting her to pick up.

Two rings later, she does.

"Hello?" she chirps.

" Pheebs, it's me," I state.

" Helga! " I hear her exclaim in shock and surprise. " Oh my gosh! Hi! Is everything allright? How are you feeling?

" Never better, Pheebs" I smirk, sad that she couldn't see it grace my face.

" Oh, thank goodness" she sighed. " I was worried about you after you stormed out of Slausens. But, I'm just glad that you're feeling better."

" Thanks, Pheebs" I say, a very small smile on my face. " But, I'm fine and that's not why I called."

"Really?" she asks, munching on something crunchy, probably some sort of vegetable. " Then why did you call?"

Here it comes, I thought. Get ready for some shrieking. " My lips are swollen and I'm going with football head to the dance."

There was an immense period of silence. I'm actually getting worried. Almost 3 minutes have passed. As a result of my little statement, I can just imagine Phoebe choking on her late night snack.

"Hello?" I asked. Silence this long was not normal.

"Phoebe? Are you dead?"

"Ahhhhhhhhhh! Oh my god! Oh my good! Oh my god!" I hear her scream, my hands coming to rub my broken, bleeding ears. Shit! Why the hell she has to scream like a banshee on angel dust and crack, I don't know.

"Ow!" I yelled. "Crimeny, Phoebe! Keep it down. If Bob and Miriam wake up, I'm not exactly going to be a happy camper tomorrow."

"I'm so sorry, Helga!" she chirped. " I'm just ecstatic for you. You really worried me today and I hate it when you're upset."

"Hey" I shrug. " It's okay, Pheebs. I think I'm getting the rag any day now. I over reacted a bit, but it was worth it, Everything's cool now. So, let's get on with our boring lives."

" I'm just surprised" she beamed, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She then smiled coyly over the phone.

" So…" she pressed.

"So?" I questioned, not particularly liking her tone. It was way too mischievous.

" Did he use his tongue?"

"Phoebe!" I gasped, shocked, but very amused. It wasn't Phoebe's style to ask such personal questions.

"What?" she chirped. " As your best friend, I have every right to know! Besides, I need something to discuss with Gerald tomorrow."

"Phoebe" I yawned, too tired to growl. "I don't think hair boy wants to know about our tongue war. Are you honestly telling me that you and hair boy have nothing else to do but talk about my nighttime love life? Why don't you tell me if Geraldo knows how to use his tongue…"

"Helga!" she shrieked, gasping for air.

"What?" I mimicked. " As your best friend, I have every right to know."

" Very funny, Helga."

" Oh, come off it, Pheebs" I grinned, surpassing a yawn. " You know that I'm just messing with you. If you and Gerald were wagging tongue wars, the whole school and I would know thanks to Princess Rhonda and her big mouth."

" Stop it, Helga" she laughed. " Gerald doesn't have feelings for me. And if he does, he doesn't properly show it. I've been psychoanalyzing him since the 4th grade. He's not intellectually or technologically deficient and he's extremely popular with the opposite sex. If he truly liked me, he would have told me by now."

"Phoebe, is this why you're up on a Monday night, now a Tuesday morning, until four in the morning? To psychoanalyze our chicken shit friend? Wake up, Pheebs. He does like you, sweetheart. He's just a pussy with a capital P. Seriously, my dear. He's intimidated by you because you're not like the other bimbos who roam and infest our hallways."

" Oh, stop it, Helga" she sighed blissfully, reaching for another carrot. " Sixteen and you're already a cynic. Gerald's always been there for me. He's sweet, gentle, charming, handsome, suave—"

" Not to mention sports crazed, hairy, dumb, loud, and an extreme, total, and major pussy," I added.

"Helga!"

So? Maybe I am a cynic. There's nothing wrong with it. It's not a crime. I'm life smart and prepare myself for all the bad things that can happen to me in the future. Hey, don't get me wrong. I love a good love story just as much as the next woman, man, or he-she. The difference between the "optimists" and I is that I'm more realistic about love.

I want Phoebe and Gerald to get together, really, I do. However, honestly, and I'd never tell Phoebe this, but I don't think Gerald will ever say anything to her. He's never dealt with a girl like Phoebe and he's probably afraid to ruin their friendship. He's probably even afraid to kiss her because she's not like the other skanks he's fooled around with. He also knows that she's my bestfriend. If he hurts her, his jock ass is mine for the kill.

I always argue with Phoebe about love. For example, I know that a good girl and bad boy can never be together. First of all, even if a bad guy and good girl get together, it's only for the sex.

Good girls always fanaticize about the bad boys. Especially since they've never come into contact with the life style they live in. These girls only crave excitement and live in a fantasy that they get from fake cheesy romance novels. These novels allow them to think that they can have the power to change a bad boy.

Well, honey, it doesn't work that way in real life. A leopard never loses its spots. Bad boys love the fast drinks, fast music, fast women, and fast sex. It's how they live.

Besides, these good girls always choose their families first in real life. It's only the movies that portray a girl giving up her family for some man.

It's funny. You'd think that as girl who's loved someone for thirteen years, I'd have this romantic soul mate belief. No way, bucko.

But, anyway, back to Geraldo.

Let me explain something to you and see if you agree with me here. Hair boy has liked my best friend since the fourth grade. She's liked him since the fourth grade.

If he's so clever, popular with the gals, and charming, then why can't he figure out the signals she sends him? And why can't he grow a pair and ask her out? Do you honestly think that the man never received any action? Please, Princess Rhonda may have a big mouth, but she never lies. What do you think happens at her parties?

Anyway, as a man, a man who has experience, he should have no trouble asking out my girl.

A) She's been flirting with him since the 4th grade.

B) Arnold's told him that Phoebe has a thing for him.

C) She's never had a boyfriend or kissed a boy, even though plenty of guys have asked her out.

D) They always hang out every Friday, sometimes with out football head and I.

Even a blind man can sense what's going on. Geraldo has to skip basketball practice one day and wake up to smell the roses. I think the perfume of the cheap tarts in our school has the boy asphyxiated.

And this is what pisses me off the most. Gerald has the nerve to sulk when guys like Lorenzo ask my girl to dances. What does he honestly expect? Maybe if he'd finally grow a pair and make a move, he'd be the one going to dances with Phoebe.

Seriously. What right does he have to be upset when he's not even doing anything about Phoebe? Talk is cheap. I don't give a shit how much he says he likes her. I'm an action girl, in a G-rated way you perverts, and I want to see him take action against my best friend.

Okay, maybe I'm being a bit harsh, but like good ol' Abe once stated, I never tell a lie. Really, I'm not lying. I don't lie.

If he's seriously is afraid of kissing and hooking up, he can take it slow. It doesn't mean he has to be a sissy like Harold.

"Common and get real, beautiful. I have more balls than hair boy," I stated.

I could hear her repress a sigh. "Helga, everyday, I ponder why you call Gerald "tall hair boy." He doesn't even have half the hair he used to have on his head."

The Cheshire grin on my face was enormous. " I supposed it had to go somewhere. Sheesh. If Geraldo is that hairy on top, can you imagine how hairy his di—?"

"Helga Geraldine Pataki!" she shrieked aghast. "Are you hearing yourself!?"

"Honey, yes I do!" I roared with laughter. " Oh, I wish I could have seen the look on your face. Relax, Phoebe. Men and women do have hair down there."

"Helga, this is something I do not wish to discuss with you."

"Sweetheart, who else can you possibly, to talk about this?" I inquired, grinning my charming and million-dollar smile.

It's not that I receive satisfaction from hearing my best friend sigh. I just love it when I cause her to blow her image as the cool, calm, and collected genius I've known since pre-school. I never told her this, but the guys in our school love the fact that she's so shy around them. Pure, they call her. Pure my ass. Well, she is physcially, just not mentally.

"Shouldn't you be off to bed, Helga?" she sniffed.

"Relax, Phoebe" I smirked. " You probably want to get rid of me because he's in your sheets this very minute."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Would you stop! Enough about me. What about you, missy? Is he a great kisser?"

I felt like such a sap when a stupid dreamy smile came across my face.

"Yes, ma'am" I stated.

"Well?" she pestered. "Details! Did he use tongue, is he a biter, sucker, what!?"

"Whoa, slow down, cowl girl," I laughed. " Yes to tongue, he likes to bite my lips but hates it when I bite his, and he prefers me to do the sucking."

Oh lord, that sounded so wrong.

"Forget the last line I said, Pheebs."

"Forgetting!" she chirped.

It was silent for a few seconds. It wasn't a bad silence. More like we were trying to take everything in.

"Oh!" she finally squealed. "I'm so glad everything worked out!"

"Honestly" I admitted. "So am I. I was ecstatic when he asked me to go to the dance. I mean, seriously, Phoebe. I loved him for thirteen years, and I don't think I'll ever stop. I know it's stupid, these dumb "I like you, I don't like you" games we play. But, Phoebe, you know I don't mean half the things I say and you'd think that he'd understand this by now. I think that I was more upset that he didn't figure this out then by what he actually said. That's why I was so happy when he found me. It showed that he had some sense knocked into him and he figured it out for himself."

"Uh, yeah, Helga" she agreed, pinching herself, and grateful that Helga wasn't able to see her eye twitch. She was a horrible liar.

" I guess he must of really thought about it."

"Yeah" replied Phoebe, rubbing her red wrist. " You know, Arnold. He always looks out for the ones he cares about."

" Just like you, Pheebs" I smiled.

Who does she think she's trying to fool? Please, football head's by no means stupid, but it would take him days to crack the lock to my feelings.

"You're my best friend, Helga. You were always there for me. Do you remember the Connie and Maria incident? You were a real friend. It's time that someone's there for you. Speaking of Maria, did you hear that she's—?"

"Phoebe?" I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing. " How hard did you shove my date in the wall?"

"S-shove? N-nani?" she squeaked.

That's another way I know that my girl is fibbing. Every time she tries to lie, she speaks random bits of different languages.

" Come off it, babe" I smirked. " You can pack a punch when you want to. After all, you have me to thank for teaching you how to."

" You're not angry at me for interfering?" she asked in a timid voice, simply astonished.

"Hell no" I roared. " I'm proud of you. Now I have a reason to say that you have more balls than Gerlado!"

" Haha! Helga G. Pataki, you're nuts!" she smiled.

"Nuts for you, baby" I singed lowly. "I was made for loving you baby, you were made for loving me."

" The only way of loving me baby, is to pay a lovely fee!" she sung back.

I tried so hard to stifle my laughter but we both started cracking up. I heard Big Bob's snoring stop, but it resumed a moment later.

I was never the kind of girl who fell in love with Chick flicks. On her 13th Birthday, Phoebe tricked me by saying we were watching The Exorcism of Emily Rose. I always wanted to see it, but I was grounded at that time. As a result, by the time Bob allowed me to leave my hellhole of a house, it was out of theaters.

I almost cried when Phoebe said she lied.

" Oh my god, Pheebs! " I cried in happiness. " I cannot believe we're watching The Exorcism of Emily Rose."

"Uh, well, believe it, Helga" she smiled shakily.

I was so excited that I didn't notice her eye twitching.

" I'm honestly surprised that you're watching this. You hate horror movies."

" I just want you to watch a movie I know you'd like" she smiled.

When she placed the video in and skipped the commercials the thought suddenly occurred to me. The movie didn't come out on DVD yet. Phoebe does not buy bootlegged movies. She doesn't even know what bootleg is! I was proven correct when I saw Moulin Rouge display itself on the screen.

"Oh, no" I whined. "Phoebe, I'm not watching a chick flick and that's final."

Phoebe can be very persuasive, especially with cookies and cream ice cream.

" I can't believe I'm sitting here and watching a chick flick," I muttered, nibbling on caramel popcorn.

"Shh!" she shushed, focusing in on the movie.

Surprisingly, I fell in love with the movie and with Satine.

I didn't cry like Phoebe when she died, but it reminded me of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet because the movie has two star crossed lovers. I loved that a courtesan like Satine and writer like Christian could fall in love. A love like theirs is everlasting, even in death. As a cynic, I know that a love like theirs couldn't exist. But, since Satine died, it was more realistic. In a sense, I want a love like those two had, which is why I love the movie.

After I saw the movie, for a while, I saw Arnold and I as Satine and Christian, while Lila was the bloody ugly duke. I never told Phoebe this, but the day I marry, hopefully to Arnold, our wedding song will be Come What May.

But, anyway, the point is, I fell in love with my first chick movie, and till this day, the rare girls night Phoebe and I do have are dedicated to watching Moulin Rouge.

Phoebe's favorite part of the movie is the tango de Roxanne. She found the roughness of the dance "hot." Hey, she had no reason to blush. It was hot. Very hot. Sizzling hot…okay, enough of this.

" I don't have the kind of money that you're worth" I teased.

" Aw…you know?" my best friend said. " How about a date with Nicole Kidman, Ewan McGregor, cookies and cream, chocolate, and I this Friday?"

" Aren't you going to miss your man?" I teased. I'm not joking when I say she and Gerald always hang out every Friday.

"Chicks before dicks" she yawned. " Besides, he's not my man…yet."

I laughed a content laugh.

"Amen, sister" I whispered. " We see the guys everyday. I accept your date. Let's have it at my house this Friday. I'll provide the movie. You bring the ice cream! Maybe I'll invite Patty and a few others."

"Sounds like a plan, Satine" she smiled.

"Yes, Roxanne" I smirked. I looked at my alarm clock and the red letters flashed 4:30. We've been talking for an hour and a half.

"Allright, Pheebs. As much as I love talking to you, school starts in four hours. I need at least three hours to function for today."

" Same here, Helga" she agreed.

"I'll talk to you soon, Phoebe. Good morning!" I screamed, before hanging up the phone.

Phoebe Hyerdahl merely smiled as she walked across her room to turn off the lights.

And as she felt her head hitting her pillow and the warmth of her blanket engulfing her, all she could whisper was "Good morning, Helga."

A/N- I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. I've been writing all about Arnold and Helga for a while, and I figured I'd show a Helga and Phoebe moment. Honestly, I can be a cynic and the Moulin Rouge moment really happened to me. My best friend always tried to beat it out of me, but it fails. R/R please! Thank you 3

I want to try to update more. Ideas, criticism, and suggestions are always welcomed.

Btw, the song Phoebe and Helga were singing was Elephant Love Melody from Moulin Rouge. I encourage anyone to watch the movie!

Nani means what in Japanese.

I'd also like to thank: iceprincessforever, Monkey BayBee, Jeni27, Darthroden aka Carl, RenaissanceGirl14, Athena005, Nikki Narcissist, Chrissy O' Niel, and K.S.P.I.C.E.R., for reading and reviewing my last chapter. Thanks so much, you guys.