Iced Coffee, Hot Tea Chapter 7

"So let me get this straight," I folded my arms and looked my professor in the eyes, "this book, that you so happened to write yourself and that you insist that we buy only from your publishing company, is going to cost us $250, even though it's only on the school's recommendation list? And if we don't get it, you're going to deduct points from our overall grade?"

Professor Gatlin, a tall thin man with a vein practically bulging out of his bald head, glared down at me. "If you have a problem with how I run this class, Pataki-"

I spread my arms in an open gesture. "Problem? I didn't say I had a problem. I was just wondering if the dean or department chair new about your little operation. I actually think it's a brilliant idea to make some money on the side."

"Miss Pataki-"

"I mean hey, most of the students here are already shelling out a grand a semester for textbooks what's a couple of hundred more, right?" I said letting my voice rise. "It's not like we to struggle to afford dorm rooms and food on a part timer's, minimum wage salary right?"

"Miss Pataki-"

"As opposed to our professors who earn ninety grand a year and still expect us to pay for their beach houses!"

"Miss Pataki! Would you like to be expelled your first day!?" Professor Gatlin screamed.

There was brief silence followed by a timid throat clearing. We both snapped our heads over to see a group of students hovering in the doorway, terrified and confused looks on their faces. I snuck a quick glance at the clock. Their class had actually started ten minutes ago. Professor Gatlin turned back to me and released a long frustrated breath.

"Class dismissed." He finally barked out. "And forget about the extra textbook. Pataki, if you need any help understanding the material, don't bother coming to me."

I scoffed and stood up with a roll of my eyes. "Like that would happen."

Me as well as the rest of the students herded out of the classroom to make room for the next round of students. Some of them gave me grateful looks and smiles as they passed me, glad that they didn't have to shell out an extra $250 for an unnecessary textbook. But a couple more gave me a weird look, probably confused at my audacity to argue with a professor on the first day of class.

"Bitch."

I looked up sharply but now no one was making eye contact with me. My lips pressed into a thin line and as I exited the science building and into the quad.

Blood pounded behind my eyes signaling the beginning of a headache. My jaw felt tight from clenching all day. And my throat felt hoarse after getting into arguments with three of my four professors today. Not to mention that I had to open the coffee shop before going to my first class. The coffee shop had been trying this morning with a line of students waiting for me and Jake coming in late to relieve me. My feet had already begun hurting by the time I had to run out and catch the bus an entire block away. I got into my first class sweaty, hot and irritable only to face off with a sexist history professor who assigned only feminine topics to girls and the cool topics to the boys. After that headache came two more professors who seemed to like to take advantage of timid freshmen.

"Loud mouth bitch." This time the words were punctuated by a shoulder roughly bumping against mine.

I opened my mouth to yell at the offender, but abandoned the idea when I realized there was no way to tell exactly who it was. So I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood and I kept moving, heading to the bus stop so I can finally head home.

The sun was low in the sky by now, but it was still plenty humid out. There was a couple of frats and sororities throwing parties this week, but I definitely wasn't planning to attend any of them. I definitely wasn't what one would call the life of a party. Besides, it's not like I'd be welcomed there by anyone other than the usual douchebags or creeps.

Bitch.

I took a shuddering breath and forced myself to hold my head high as I moved off of campus grounds and into the streets. The bus stop was only a few feet away but I bypassed it and kept walking. The warm air actually felt good right now and I needed the exercise. But for all the pain and torture I went through today, call me a masochist, but it was incredible. The day had been a challenge and a struggle. I had mastered the art of making ten Frappuccinos a long time ago so the only challenge the coffee shop presented anymore was me trying not to strangle customers. Dare I say that I was actually looking forward to arguing with my professors again tomorrow?

Loud mouth bitch.

The smile was immediately wiped from my lips. Whatever, it wasn't like I was going to college to make friends or hookup with anyone. Helga G. Pataki does not give two craps about what people thought about her. Besides, there was no need to worry about anyone else once I reached the sanctity of my own apartment. The first stars were beginning to come out by the time I reached it as it neared seven o'clock.

"Man, I'm starving." I muttered to myself. "I hope Arnold got dinner started."

But when I finally found my keys and opened the door, the apartment was dark.

"Arnold?" I called, "You home?"

When there was no answer I felt my heart sink with disappointment. One of the things that I had been looking forward to all day was being able to complain about my crappy day with someone. Oh well, empty apartment. No one here to watch me, no one here to annoy me, I could even walk around naked if I wanted to.

Suddenly, an idea came to mind and my lips curved into a wicked grin. Whipping out my iPod, I cued it to my secret playlist, and secured it in my bra. As the violins geared up I shimmied out of my restrictive pants and shoes and got into fourth position. As soon as the flutes hit I was off. My sock clad feet prance across the floor as I made my way to the kitchen for a soda. My body always felt ten pounds lighter when I danced. I had to give up this week's dance classes to adjust for my work and school schedule. As I bend down to look in the fridge I keep my back leg straight and kept the other extended until it was well above my head. The muscles in my calf stretch and I hum in satisfaction. This is exactly what I needed at the end of a long day. Soda in hand, I straighten back up on my tip toes and take a few dramatic steps backwards, following the rising crescendo of the music. And as the violins hit their peak in a solo, I spin my body in tight circles on one leg, letting my arms and my hair spin around me. As the music fades I end in a second arabesques with my leg extended out and my arms stretched out.

In the brief silence that followed the song's ending, the sound of clapping reached my ears. My eyes snapped open to see Arnold standing in the front hall, grinning at me.

"Arnold!" I shrieked and yanked my earbuds out. "What the hell are you doing here!?"

Arnold laughed, not at all offended by my outburst. "I live here, which you clearly seemed to have forgotten."

I followed his gaze downward and realized that I was literally in my underwear with my shirt just barely covering my modesty. I yelped and frantically looked around for my pants, only to realize that they had been discarded in the front hall…right at Arnold's feet. Arnold seemed to notice too and picked them up with a roguish grin.

"Looking for these?"

Ignoring the burning blush in my cheeks, I decided to forgo any illusion of modesty and marched right over to take them from him. But as soon as I took my pants from him, Arnold turned his back to me to give me some sense of privacy. A small smile curved my lips even as I rolled my eyes. Oh Arnold, forever the gentleman.

"So… how long were you watching me?" I tried to keep my voice steady as I folded my pants over my arm. After all, he had already seen me and it wasn't like I haven't been in anything less in front of him before.

"Long enough to tell that you are way beyond talented." Arnold peaked over his shoulder at me. "Do you think that one day I might be able to see you perform?"

Instantly my mood shifted as an opportunity arose to tease my favorite modest football head.

"Why Arnold, a gentleman like yourself isn't asking for a private dance are you?" I purred.

Arnold spun around to face me, surprise written all over his features. "W-what? No, that's not what I was implying!"

"Aww, too bad," I closed the distance between us and hiked my leg high around his hip, "because I would have happily obliged."

Arnold's hand automatically came up to grab my thigh to steady me even as he remained speechless. He hadn't run away screaming yet though, so I decided that it couldn't hurt to tease him a bit more.

"You know, it's been soooo long since I've gone to dance class that I'm afraid I'm getting rusty." I slowly began to lean back, clinging tightly to Arnold who continued to hold me securely. I kept leaning back until my hand touched the floor. I closed my eyes, loving how tight my beloved football was gripping my thigh so I wouldn't fall. "What do you think Arnold?"

In place of a response Arnold whipped me back up, spun me, and dipped me back down again. I opened my eyes with a breathless gasp and found him staring deep into my eyes, his own emerald ones shining with adoration and awe.

"I think you're absolutely perfect." Arnold smiled and gave me a gentle peck on the lips.

My eyes stung at his gentle words. I constantly had to remind myself that Arnold was actually, genuinely in love with me.

"I love you football head." I chuckled lightly. "Even when you take all the fun out of teasing you."

Immediately, his eyes darkened and his adoring smile curved into a wicked one. "Who said it wasn't working?"

Arnold then slapped my butt and gripped it hard. I squealed and jumped away from him so fast that I lost my balance and fell to the floor. Arnold laughed even as his brow creased in worry.

"I'm so, so sorry." He laughed, extending his hand to me, "Are you okay?"

"Peachy." I playfully kicked his hand away and stood up on my own. "So what do you want for dinner? I'm starving."

"Right, um about that," Arnold ran his fingers through his hair, "I was actually just stopping by to drop my stuff off. Gerald wants me to go with him to this party for the new basketball team members."

"Oh."

"But I'd like it if you'd come with me." Arnold smiled hopefully. "I mean, Phoebe won't be there because she wants to stay in her room and study, but I think that it'd be pretty cool if you went with us."

My hand went up to my shoulder. "No thanks. I'm good here."

Arnold's eyes searched my face for a minute before he shrugged. "Okay, suit yourself Helga."

"Don't I always?" I muttered trying to fake a smile. I didn't want to be one of those annoying clingy girlfriends but I couldn't help but feel disappointed that Arnold didn't want to stay here with me instead. "Are you expecting dinner to be waiting for you when you get back or are you grabbing a bite with Gerald?"

Arnold began laughing and I rose me eyebrow in confusion. What the hell was so funny?

"Sorry," he apologized once his laughter subsided, "It's just, for a moment there, we sounded like we were married."

The heat rushed to my face and I quickly pushed past him to the bathroom. "Whatever, Shortman. I'm taking a shower. Don't go walking me up when you come back in."

"I shouldn't be out too late." Arnold called after me. "Love you!"

I didn't trust myself to speak so I just put up a peace sign and kept walking. No need for me to lose my head just because Arnold was feeling all mushy. I heard the front door close as I went into the bathroom. My stomach growled at the lack of food inside me but there was no need for me to cook a big meal if Arnold was just going to fill up on chips and beer at some stupid frat party. But still, he could be hungry when he gets home…

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Arnold POV

It was almost 2 am by the time I was finally able to get back home. I blamed myself for refusing to leave until Gerald was safely back in his dorm. But in all good consciousness, I couldn't not make sure that he had a way home after drinking five beers and three tequila shots. I shook my head with a small pained grunt. Gerald was enjoying college life a little too much too quickly in my opinion. My head was hurting from the shots he goaded me into and hallway seemed to tilt under my feet. Part of me hoped that Helga was already asleep so she wouldn't have to see me like this.

I crept into the apartment as quietly as I could. It was dark and not a single sound was to be heard. I breathed a sigh of relief. In addition to smelling like booze I also reeked of cheap perfume. Despite repeating over and over again that I was taken, girls kept pressing up against me thinking I was part of the basketball team. Itt made me wish more than ever that Helga had been with me to ward them away with her signature scowl. As I crept pass the kitchen though something caught my eye on the stove. Investigating closer I spotted a plate of spaghetti with a side of salad and a roll cover with saran wrap. I picked up the folded note on top and read it.

In case you come home hungry.

Even as my stomach heaved a smile stretched my face. So Helga cared after all. Just like a good wife would. I chuckled and quietly made my way to the bathroom to grab a quick shower before I ate. The thought of marrying Helga was a sweet idea but it would have to wait a little while longer. After all, there was no need to scare her off just yet