Hello there. Here's Chapter 2. All those bold thoughts are Helga's thoughts.

Enjoy!

She needed to get her mind off Rhonda writing her next article. Currently, Rhonda was on a date with her boyfriend Harold and even though she had the apartment to herself, it made her worry. She had been pacing around it several times just thinking of the things that Rhonda could potentially write about.

What if she makes it too girly? Like the best way to dress for a date. Criminy. She could make it so over-the-top or dramatic. Or worse.

She shutters and flops down on the couch, grumbling to herself. She rests her head against the back of the couch and stares up at the ceiling. It had gotten to the point where she was almost ready to count the squares in the ceiling tiles before she groans. She changes out of her black work pants and pink silk button down and slid into a pair of running shorts and a tank top. She sits on her bed lacing her sneakers.

Running was not something she had wanted or had planned on doing today, or any day really, but maybe just maybe, it would get her mind off of worrying about the article and all the problems she had work. At least for a little while. She closes the apartment door behind her and jogs down the steps and out the front door. She runs across the street and into the park, feeling the cool breeze on her face, the leaves crunching underneath her feet and listens to the strangers she passes having conversations. She runs a lap around, two laps, and then starts to run a third when it starts to rain lightly. She thinks nothing off it and continues her run, enjoying the cold water on her sweaty face. She was enjoying it for a little while, until it had started to pour. She groans loudly as a man in a suit runs past her, newspaper over his head, scrambling towards the closest exit. She, unfortunately, has determined that she is at the opposite end of the park from her apartment, another 20 minutes run in the rain. She follows the man out the closest exit and attempts to hail a cab. As it pulls up, the man in the suit jumps in and closes the door.

"Hey!"

The man mumbles a sorry that is muffled behind the glass as the cab speeds past, soaking her even more. In frustration, she decides that she has to finish the run.

She has some trouble making her way through the park, avoiding the puddles and trying not to completely soak through her running shoes and into her socks. As she is attempting not to cry in defeat and swear off running for the rest of her life, she notices a person sitting on a park bench down the path, a person sitting in the middle of the pouring rain, doing what looks like feeding pigeons.

Who feeds pigeons in the middle of the rain? They're worthless pests anyway. Stupid idiot.

She gets ready to run right past them until she gets a better look at their face. Wet blond hair hanging slightly over their eyes, wearing a red plaid shirt and a black t-shirt underneath, a pair of khaki shorts and black converses. It was a guy, a very attractive guy. The weirdest thing about him was that his head was shaped…kinda like a football.

Huh. Football Head. How is anyone's head actually shaped like a football? Is that like a birth thing? How does that even work?

The guy whistles happily to himself and breaks off pieces of bread from a bag and drops them on the ground. No care in the world. She continues to watch him, and run…at the same time.

This guy is just so weird. Football head guy, just what exactly is your angle here?

And of course, being as clumsy as she usually was, she did not notice that she had been veering off the path and into the grass, straight in the path of a light post on the edge of the grass. She finally notices where she is going when she slams face first into the pole, collapsing into a heap from the impact.

"Hey, miss? Miss?"

She hadn't even realized that she blacked out for a few seconds until she opened her eyes to the football head guy standing above her, an obvious look of confusion on his face.

Hey, this guy has some big old green eyes.

She smiles, a bit dazed.

"Hey, are you okay?"

His voice sounds amazing. Like super pleasant and expressive. He sounds so concerned right now, you can see it in his eyes too. His big emerald green eyes…

"Miss?"

Was he talking to me?

"Are you okay?"

There's a sharp pain in her nose and she winces.

"Yeah…I'm uh…fine. Yeah, I'm fine. Just you know, running and stuff."

Wow do I sound like the biggest idiot on the planet right now.

She attempts to sit up as he extends his hand to help her. She reaches for it, feeling a sudden jolt of electricity and pulls away quickly, trying to conceal any sort of blush from forming on her cheeks.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just peachy."

Peachy?

"I just need to watch where I'm going is all."

God what are you doing?

She gives him a thumbs up.

Yeah that totally made it better.

She slowly rises to her feet as he tries to help her and keep her steady but she brushes it off. She manages to get a good look at her support as she stands.

Somewhat muscular, to the point where she knew he had to work out a little but was already gifted at looking like a supermodel. Tall, incredibly handsome and still a little bit weird with the whole pigeon thing, but still he was pretty damn near perfect, just based on looks alone. If Rhonda was engaged, she'd eat him up in a second.

She sighs.

"You know, I could help take you to the hospital."

Was that sigh out loud?

"Not necessary at all. I'm really okay."

She tries not to visually grimace in pain as she touches her nose.

"It looks like your nose is broken."

It probably is.

"No big deal, it's happened before."

"Was it from running into a light post before too?"

She notices the lighthearted smile and returns it.

"No. A skiing accident when I was six. Then I ran into a tree."

He tries not to laugh.

"So you're prone to running into things."

"No…I'm mean I'm not usually this clumsy… clumsy in general, yes…breaking my nose clumsy, only the two times."

He shrugs.

"Right…as long as you're okay."

"Yes! Yes, um… yeah, I'm great. Super fantastic."

God this is awkward.

"But um…" she clears her throat, "thanks for checking on me."

"Sure. See you around."

"Yeah, sure. See you…"

He smiles before walking back towards the bench he had been sitting on and she stands trying not to cry in pain or cry in an overload of awkwardness that she was feeling. She turns to look back at him.

He's got a nice butt.

She smirks at the thought. As she starts to walk onto the path, she looks as the pigeons flock over to him, cooing as he drops bread to the ground.

Helga. This is the part where you walk away and never look back. You already messed up talking to him and he thinks you're insane and cannot talk like a normal human being. Walk. Away. Forget this happened. Keep moving. Lift your feet.

But her feet do not move.

Why am I even still looking at him? Is it the fact that he is still…STILL feeding those damn rats with wings? Is it the fact that he's kind and willing to help an innocent yet apparently socially awkward stranger? Is it the shape of his god damn head? Gah. I don't know.

She starts to walk forward on the path before it forks into two different directions. One way would be taking her back to the entrance in front of her apartment and the other towards him.

It is still raining. Go home, take off these wet clothes, and watch some hockey.

She hesitates.

And yet…

She walks down the path and stands by the bench. He doesn't look up at her until she clears her throat.

"Um…hey."

"Hey."

He is a little confused at first, but smiles softly. She stands there in silence until she blurts the first thing to come out of her mouth.

"Hey, you know it's raining right?"

Idiot. That's what you say to him?

"I hadn't really noticed."

How do you not notice? You're soaking wet.

"How do you not notice? You're soaking wet."

Of course you say that out loud.

"I guess."

God was he that oblivious?

"Would you wanna sit?" he asks.

"Huh?"

"I said would you wanna sit. I can move this bag. There's enough room for the both of us here."

"Oh. Um…sure."

He moves the bag from the bench onto the ground beside him.

"I…um…"

He smiles.

"I promise I'm not gonna bite."

She gulps before sitting down next to him, saying nothing. He takes the bag out of his lap and continues to feed the birds; she looks straight ahead as the rain falls on both of them.

"So…"

He whistles to another bird to catch its attention. She perks up a bit at the whistle.

That's a weird whistle, like a song. Quick, a bit higher-pitched for a guy with some much bass in his speaking voice. But every note, it had almost sounded like a bird itself. It's interesting. He's a bit mysterious himself. Gotta be a local guy, not many people come to this park tourist wise. Not many tourists at all actually.

He pushes more of his hair out of his eyes.

And he doesn't seem to mind all the rain falling on him. He's in his own little world over there, isn't he?

"Um… you're staring at me."

She sees the quizzical look on his face.

Busted.

"No I'm not!" she stammers quickly.

"Now you're blushing."

Shit.

The edges of his lips curl up slightly as she feels the heat rushing to her cheeks and brings her hands to her face to try to cover it. She turns away from him and he laughs.

"I'm sorry to kinda just fluster you like that. You know…it's actually kinda cute."

She turns back to him.

Did he just say I was cute?

"Cute?"

"Yeah… that's not a bad thing, is it?"

He said I was cute!

"No… I mean, it's not…but I…"

"Are you always this articulate?"

She sighs.

No. It's just you're really, really attractive and for some odd reason, words are super hard.

"Usually yes. You know, except for right now. Words are currently escaping me. Excuse me while I hide over here in shame."

He laughs, a little louder this time.

"So you think you're good with words, huh?"

"I'd like to think so."

"And what makes you so confident with that?"

She watches him move his bag on top of a black case.

Is that a guitar? Is he a musician?

"Are you a musician?" She blurts out.

Smooth there Helga. That wasn't a complete desperate question to change the subject. Nope. Not at all.

He raises an eyebrow, almost intrigued by her question.

"Answer my question first."

"I'm a writer…a journalist actually." She whispers it, almost like it was something to be ashamed of.

"A journalist huh? What paper? Or is it a blog?"

"Hillwood Daily."

"Ah. Actual print then. Interesting."

Not really. I'm getting screwed over by my boss right now.

"I guess."

"What do you write about?"

"Isn't it your turn to answer?"

He smirks.

"One more question."

"Sports. Mostly football and hockey."

"I love football, baseball is close second. As for the musician thing, I guess you can say I'm sort of a musician."

"How can you be sort of a musician? I'm assuming that's a guitar."

"It is."

"Can you only sorta play it?"

"Oh no, I can play it pretty well. Along with the piano, harmonica, trumpet and I occasionally sing a bit."

Oh wow. He's really talented.

"No professional stuff?"

"Here and there. I mostly teach music."

He's a teacher too?

"Where?"

"Hillwood Middle School. I love it there."

He loves it there! He loves kids! While I'm not too great with kids, he'll be great with kids for me. Perfect!

"Have you ever recorded anything?"

"Nah. I usually get turned down."

I bet you have the singing voice of an angel.

"I'm sure you're great."

"You've never heard me. How would you know?"

How would you know Helga, huh? How would you know?

"Just a gut feeling."

God you're terrible at this. But at least he's still smiling.

"Maybe one day."

"Maybe."

He stands up and crumbles the plastic bag and throws it in the trashcan beside him and picks up the guitar case and bag by his feet. His wet t-shirt clings to his body as he moves.

Cri-min-y.

He reaches out a hand to help her up from the bench and smiles. She is practically grinning ear to ear.

"You know, your smile is really pretty."

HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT.

"Oh…um…thanks."

"You're welcome."

HE DID JUST SAY THAT. BREATHE HELGA GIRL. WAIT, HE'S STILL HOLDING YOUR HAND.

She looks down at her hand in his and he leans down to kiss it gently before letting go. She tries not to melt into a puddle of emotions.

"It was nice meeting you…."

Why did he pause? What is he waiting for…OH. My name. Duh.

"Helga." She cringes at the high-pitch now in her voice.

"Helga. Helga. Pretty name to match the pretty smile."

Okay, now that was smooth.

"Maybe I'll see you again, Helga."

"Maybe you will."

He adjusts the bag on his shoulder and in his hand before turning and walking towards the opposite end of the park and back into reality.

Wow. He's amazing. Great smile, great man, great hair even if it's on a weird shaped head, great name…wait…what was his name? Criminy, I didn't get his name. Maybe it's not too late to ask?

"Hey wait!"

He turns around to look at her.

"I…um…never got your name."

"It's Arnold."

He continues to walk down the path, but not without turning and waving to her quickly. She stands there, frozen in her spot and once he is out of earshot, she sighs happily and sits back down on the bench.

"Arnold."