How I Love You
How I Love You
You re so stupid. You know what? You stupid football head!
I hate you.
I love you.
I hate you.
No, I love you!
I love the way you laugh. The way you smile.
Arnold, you stupid football head. How I wish I could just take you into my arms and kiss you. I want to hold you and tell you that I, Helga G. P-
"Helga!" her hand froze in the middle of the sentence at hearing that smooth voice calling out to her. When she looked up, she saw him standing there. Her heart began to pound. How she could stare into his eyes forever.
She suddenly remembered where she was and what she was doing, and closed her notebook before he could see the little notes, hearts, and ramblings she had penned onto the paper. Her lips pulled back into its usually familiar scowl.
"What do you want, football head?" She asked angrily. Helga G. Patacki was never angry at him. She just had to keep up this act for reasons she doesn't want to state. Her heart fluttered at seeing his tiny lips puckering into a frown.
"Nothing. I was just wondering if we were still on for the baseball game tonight?" The football headed blonde asked in his all too usual polite tone.
She wanted to squeal and just hold him. No, she wanted to squeeze the life out of him! That s what she wanted to do!
"Oh, right, right, Harold and Stinky want that stupid rematch between boys and girls. Yes, yes, we're still on." She muttered with a roll of her eyes.
Again, she watched him from the corner of her eye. His lips pulled back into a smile. Her heart jumped again.
"Alright, sounds cool. Thanks for confirming it." He said and then he was off with his books in hand, joining Gerald and their friends for the usual after school follies.
Her heart melted again and she swooned into her chair, her body going limp.
"Oh, Arnold." Were the words Helga G. Patacky uttered before hearing the usual heavy breathing behind her and decking Brainy like usual. She wouldn't change her world, not one bit. She loved staring and admiring Arnold from afar. He always made her days better.
How I love you, you stupid football head.
I hate you.
I love you.
I hate you.
No, I love you!
I love the way you laugh. The way you smile.
Arnold, you stupid football head. How I wish I could just take you into my arms and kiss you. I want to hold you and tell you that I, Helga G. P-
"Helga!" her hand froze in the middle of the sentence at hearing that smooth voice calling out to her. When she looked up, she saw him standing there. Her heart began to pound. How she could stare into his eyes forever.
She suddenly remembered where she was and what she was doing, and closed her notebook before he could see the little notes, hearts, and ramblings she had penned onto the paper. Her lips pulled back into its usually familiar scowl.
"What do you want, football head?" She asked angrily. Helga G. Patacki was never angry at him. She just had to keep up this act for reasons she doesn't want to state. Her heart fluttered at seeing his tiny lips puckering into a frown.
"Nothing. I was just wondering if we were still on for the baseball game tonight?" The football headed blonde asked in his all too usual polite tone.
She wanted to squeal and just hold him. No, she wanted to squeeze the life out of him! That s what she wanted to do!
"Oh, right, right, Harold and Stinky want that stupid rematch between boys and girls. Yes, yes, we're still on." She muttered with a roll of her eyes.
Again, she watched him from the corner of her eye. His lips pulled back into a smile. Her heart jumped again.
"Alright, sounds cool. Thanks for confirming it." He said and then he was off with his books in hand, joining Gerald and their friends for the usual after school follies.
Her heart melted again and she swooned into her chair, her body going limp.
"Oh, Arnold." Were the words Helga G. Patacky uttered before hearing the usual heavy breathing behind her and decking Brainy like usual. She wouldn't change her world, not one bit. She loved staring and admiring Arnold from afar. He always made her days better.
How I love you, you stupid football head.