With written word I discovered myself,

It was with music that I allowed myself to soar.

~Lindsey Ann

I never understood poetry all that well. I much preferred the simplicity in novels and books than that of the poetic word, but once added to music, all of the poetry in the world can make sense.

I discovered this in 8th grade; the year we were partnered up and had to write a song about Ebenezer Scrooge for our, "A Christmas Carol" project. Naturally, I was paired with Gerald (thank goodness seeing as he is the smarter poet between the two of us), and together we made a killing with our rap-meets-cool-jazz-song that earned us a well-deserved A with extra credit.

That was nearly 4 years ago now and my music-infused-poetry had come a long way since then.

"You don't have to scream and shout for your words to be heard." I sang as I plucked away at my keyboard inside my room while jotting down the rest of my lyrics just beside me on a blank stationary page that read, 'From the Desk of Arnold Shortman'— a gift from my mom just a year after said Ebenezer Scrooge project.

"Just your voice alone gives you away like a song bird." I nodded my head at the lyric and continued. "And I've got to shake all these feelings that I've given you today but let's not say we didn't try it one day, some day."

Setting the pen down, I reached up into the air to stretch my arms towards the sky and folded them to rest atop of my head like a picture frame. Then, in that same position, I leaned towards the right and left before dropping my hands to my sides and taking a deep inhale of breath.

Today was the two-year-anniversary of my breaking up with Helga.

Today was the two-year-anniversary of the dumbest decision of my life.

Sure, we were still friends and cyber-talked most nights, but since her parents had moved half-way across the state to open up 'Big Bob's Cellphone Castle' it had been tricky to talk and not show most of my regret.

Of course, Helga hadn't moved there the second we broke up, no, but they did move after the one-year-anniversary and I couldn't help but feel like it had something to do with Helga leaving Hillwood High and transferring to Starlight Academy.

I hated that that preppy school had her instead of me.

"Arnold!" My mom's voice rang from downstairs, along with Grandma's familiar old cow belle. "Supper's ready!"

"Coming, mom!" I hollered down before getting up to make the usual trudge down the attic steps towards the kitchen where my parents were 'discussing' the operation that was suppertime in the Sunset Arms Boarding House.

"I just don't see why we have to keep using this old cow belle to call everyone down for supper," Mom said while setting it down on the counter beside the refrigerator.

"The boarders are used to it," Dad responded while stirring and tasting the spaghetti sauce, followed by a slap of my mom's hand on his wrist in hopes at getting him to stop. "Why go and change things on them now?"

My mom sighed and reached over to rest her hand on his shoulder. "Miles, I know you miss your mom but it's been nearly 5 years since she passed. Maybe it's time we change things around a bit. You know, make the house more…homey."

Dad shook his head and gestured up towards the stairway. "And dad? How do you think that'll make him feel?"

"He'll understand," she said before beginning to set the table with dishes and cups. "He always does."

"But he misses her even more than I do, Stella," he said while crossing his arms shyly. "If it's anyone it would hurt, it's going to be him."

Mom sighed and nodded her head before returning to her place-setting. "Alright, but just consider it, okay? I just… I feel like I'm calling the Calvary or something."

Dad chuckled as he tasted the sauce one more time. "That's what mom used to say anyway."

Mom turned to see me standing in the doorway and offered me a smile. "Hey kiddo," she said before coming over to me and kissing the top of my head. "You ready for some homemade spaghetti?" She asked while dad came over to peek just above her shoulder at me.

"The sauce is delicious," he teased while she turned around and mock-hit him in his chest.

"I told you no more tasting!" she laughed while offering him a peck on his lips. "But thank you, I'll inform the cook."

It was odd to see my parents in the kitchen together, even though I'd been used to it since we found them in elementary school. They'd fit into the role of parenting so perfectly that it was almost as if I hadn't lived without them my entire life.

Almost.

My mom's cooking was excellent in comparison to Grandma's; especially in the latter years. She'd done so well raising me that when she started to take a turn for the worse and Mom was around, she took over the cooking instead of Grandma and she just never recovered enough to pick up those spoons or any kitchen utensil ever again— even if it was only to bang some pots around in lieu of her cowbell which always somehow got lost.

But my parents never knew all of that. They hadn't been around to see what it was like without them around, only my dad that is. And if dad wanted to keep Grandma's traditions in check, than I was totally fine with that.

It meant that she wasn't gone. It meant that things were still normal, somehow, and with wishful thinking I could picture her here with Grandpa and my parents.

And Helga. Just like when she used to come over while we were dating. In the 3 years we'd dated, she must have become Grandma's best friend. Maybe that's why she moved.

Who are you kidding, Arnold, my thoughts were quick to cut in, Grandma had nothing to do with this. She died long before you went and broke both Helga and your own hearts.

I shook my head as if to clear the etch-a-sketch in my head. Only took yourself two years to figure that out, genius.

But two years was nothing in the great scheme of things and as soon as supper was over, I was going to talk to Helga. I'd just have to see if the spaghetti Mom made would have enough of a kick to give me the nerve to do so.

"So how was Shortman a'la king tonight?" Helga asked while scarfing a bowl of spaghetti-o's in front of her webcam.

"Sorry, how was what?" I asked mid-chuckle.

"Dinner, wise-guy," she retorted while gesturing towards her own dinner for the night. "Like this only," she swallowed, "better."

Laughing again, I shook my head and smirked, "Spaghetti, oddly enough. So like yours only…"

It was her time to laugh. "Better. The word your looking for is better."

"Different," I explained, though she wasn't buying it. "The house could use some of your laughter again, you know," I blurted out before I could take the words back and put my thoughts out there more…integrated to the conversation.

Silence overflowed the speakers of my computer. I tried with all my might to think of something, anything to say, but came up with nothing instead.

So the sound of silence continued on.

"You know, Shortman," Helga finally said to break the ice, "Prep school sucks."

I sighed. She's changing the subject.

"Yeah, yeah, I bet. Hillwood isn't much better, though."

"Better than here," she retorted, my scoff not helping the cause.

"I think I'm prepared to fight you on that."

Helga rolled her eyes, "Through a computer screen, huh? And by the way, what makes you think you could take on old Betsy and the five avengers? Your freakish head?"

"Nah, nah," I said trying to sound casual, "just my wicked sense of humor."

"Which," she added, "isn't exactly your forte, now is it, football-head?"

And just like that she shut me up, not because she was right, which she was, but because I didn't have a witty comeback— only proving her point further.

"That's what I thought," she said before setting her empty bowl aside and leaning back in her computer chair to watch me from her side of the world.

"There are things you don't know about me, though," I tried as she cocked a brow with a sheepish grin.

"Oh is that so, Arnoldo?" She replied using her fighting tone. "Cause I'm fairy sure I know most everything that goes inside that pretty giant head of yours."

I couldn't help the butterflies that went through my stomach like wild rabid rats eating away at my insides. I wanted her back so badly, but that wasn't just the sort of thing you say right out into the open.

Especially not something you say over a video chat at 9 o'clock at night.

"'Spose you're right," I finally said with the color draining from my face. "Seeing as you dated me and all."

"Don't forget that there past tense, smart guy," her words were laced with acidity and I couldn't fight the dry mouth lingering on my tongue.

She was right and I couldn't dispute that. We did date, and as much as I wanted to resume so, it was really up to Helga and I was sure she wouldn't want anything to do with me given her distance.

Given her rather extreme distance, that is.

"Well I gotta get going on homework," Helga said quickly while typing on her keyboard quickly; a pop up showing on my computer from her message. "We'll talk later."

Boop.

The sound of a finalized video chat.

I sighed and pursed my lips before nodding, then went through to the chat only to see her message staring back at me.

Pink_Bow87: Roommate just got in. Tomorrow. Same time.

Three sentences. Three sentences that meant hope and another shot.

Another shot at getting Helga back, somehow.

"You've been kicking it with those beats I sent you the other night?" Gerald asked as we wandered the halls killing time before our next class.

I shook my head, my eyes cast downward on the floor I was walking on. "Nah, Gerald I've been, uh, I've been—"

"Talking to Helga again, huh?" He said with knowledge. If it was anyone who knew me better than Helga, it was Gerald.

"Uh, yeah, yeah I was."

"Mm mm MM, man," he said with his usual enthusiasm. "Why'd you go breaking up with her if you were gonna get all hung up over this in the end?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head while staring down at my feet as we came to a stop just outside our door for Science. "I didn't realize she'd… she'd—"

"Have such a hold on that big ol' softy heart of yours?" He finished for me yet again and I looked up to glance at him with a deadpan stare.

"Would you stop doing that already?" I exclaimed as we entered the classroom and Gerald laughed while slapping a hand on my far shoulder and squeezing it once.

"Finish your sentences? C'mon man, I've been doing this for years, don't stop me now." We made our way to our seats across the room from each other. As we set our bags down, he chuckled to himself before calling out in my direction, "And besides, Arnold, who else is gonna help you figure yourself out, huh?"

He had a point.

"If I found you, how would you react? If you found me, would you take me back?" I sighed and scribbled out the words before trying again. "If I found you, would you, could you…ugh!" I tossed the pad of paper on the floor beside the keyboard and frowned at the keys staring back at me.

"Why can't you be easier, huh?" I asked the inanimate object getting no response back, as I'd expected.

It wasn't that writing was all that difficult anymore but it was getting my feelings out that caused a train wreck inside my head that I just couldn't avoid. It was as if all the words jumbled themselves together into one long sentence of questions— if I could get her back, if I could find her, if she would take me back. All the would've, could've, should've's came crawling into my mind and it seemed the only thing I could do anymore was doddle a couple melodies out every once in a while.

I didn't know how Helga did it. She could tap into her emotions so easily and write poems in a way no other human could, especially me.

After all, it was that talent alone that landed her in that fancy academy she was going to now, seeing as Bob wasn't willing for anything more than public school. I wondered what her aversion to it was; wondered why she would choose an all-girls school over some easy public place with people everywhere she could annoy and then fall in love with until she could leave again and leave them wondering what to do without her insults in their life.

Maybe I was bitter. Maybe the music wasn't coming out of me because I'd left all my feelings with Helga when she left. There were too many maybes and so many whys that I couldn't answer my head felt so big it might explode.

Before long, I reached out for the pad of paper and scribbled the questions coming to my mind. If I found you, would you, could you come back to me? If I lost you once, couldn't you return to me? If I found that the solitude was anything but cold and rude, would you at least consider coming back to me?

I stared down at the words I'd written and smiled.

Now that's how you get Helga back, smart guy, I could almost hear her saying inside my head.

And that was just what I was going to do.

Hey everybody! Thanks for checking out my ficlet! this story was inspired by my good friend Arnold's Love and the song "Love Song" by Sara Barellis. As i was writing, i discovered that this was a bigger story than a single oneshot could handle and here we are! Also, the song, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron inspired me endlessly in the writing process.

Please review and stay tuned for more!