Figuring Cecile

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold. If I did, Arnold and Helga would be a couple, Lila would be gone, and the episodes would be played at least ten times a day.

Arnold sighed and threw everything from inside his closet behind him. Grandma had gone into her Spring Cleaning mode and forced everyone in the boarding house to clean out their rooms and get rid of things they didn't need anymore. Arnold grumbled to himself and walked deeper into his closet, not bothering to watch where he was going. He accidentally stepped on a soccer ball and slipped, crashing to the ground. He groaned, rubbing his head. "Ow!" he cried, as he slowly sat up, his leg pushing on something sharp. He looked down and found a small red high-healed shoe. He picked it up and held it delicately in his hands. "Who were you?" he asked as he drifted off into his own world. Arnold sighed and snapped out of his daydream. "Guess I'll never know," he thought for a minute then turned to his phone. "Unless..." he trailed off, debating in his head whether or not to call Gerald, his best friend. He smiled mischievously and put the shoe down next to his bed. "I'm gonna find out who she is if it's the last thing I ever do." he said clenching his hands into fists, a look of determination on his face.

The next morning, Arnold sat quietly in his desk, waiting for school to start. A small smile played on his face and his hands were folded neatly on top of his desk. Helga walked by and smirked at him. She kneeled down next to him. "Yo, Football Head!" she screamed in his ear. He jumped, hitting his knees on the underneath of his desk. His eyes blinked frantically and he shook his head.

"Oh, hi, Helga." he said softly. "Sorry, guess I didn't see you there." Helga narrowed her eyes at the boy. She stood up and placed her hands on her hips.

"Didn't see me there? What were you doing, Football Head? Thinking about Lila?" Arnold snapped his head at her and narrowed his eyes. "S'matter, Arnoldo? Haven't gotten over Little Miss Perfect yet? You know she doesn't like you like you." Arnold turned back to face the front of the classroom.

"I know and frankly I grew out of that crush I had on her." Helga's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. She dropped her hands from her hips and then crossed them in front of her chest.

"You don't like her like her anymore?" She asked, turning her head to the side. Arnold chuckled and shook his head.

"Class, please take your seats." Mr. Baker, the kids' fifth grade teacher, said. He carried a huge brown box that seemed a bit too heavy for him. Mr. Baker was a small, thin man with glasses and a pointed nose. He had a small brown tuff of hair under his lower lip and he was also balding. He set the box on his desk and pushed up his glasses. "Today is the day you get your fifth grade yearbooks." He paused as the class cheered loudly. He laughed softly as everyone scrounged for a fancy pen. Phoebe pulled out a case of metallic roll and Gel pens in all sorts of colors. She peered over the rim of her glasses towards Gerald who winked at her. Helga watched and sighed longingly. Mr. Baker finally regained control of the class. "These yearbooks have your names on them so don't go trying to take another student's and please, when you sign them, no vulgar writing." he said glaring at Harold. Harold looked up at the teacher.

"What?" he asked innocently. Mr. Baker rolled his eyes and began calling out names.

"Harold, Arnold, Danielle, Phoebe, Curly," he said and paused, leaning down to Curly. "Now, Thaddeus don't tear the pages out of this. This book is extremely hard to replace." The class chuckled and Curly sunk down in his chair, choosing to ignore the laughter. Mr. Baker turned back to the class and continued. "Andrea, Gerald, Stinky, Eric, Lila, Rhonda, Peter, Nadine, Helga, Chris, Alexander and Sid." Each of the kids gazed down at their yearbooks, longing to have every single signature of their classmates. "Oh all right. Today's lesson is cancelled so we all can sign the yearbooks." The entire class cheered and began to separate into small groups. The only person who remained at her desk was Helga, knowing the only person that would sign her yearbook would be Phoebe, her best friend.

A shadow fell over Helga and a pen clicked. "Hey, Phoebes."

"Can I sign your yearbook, Helga?" A young boy's voice came from over her shoulder. Helga spun around to face Arnold, holding his own yearbook under his arm.

"Arnold! I mean, sure Football Head. I guess you can," she said, blushing.

"Okay, great. Hey, wanna be the first to sign mine?"

"Whatever." She answered. She grabbed his yearbook and he took hers. After a few minutes they exchanged their yearbooks and read what the other had to say. Helga opened her book to the first page where Arnold took up the entire page. She smiled secretly to herself. "Hey, Helga. I always knew that under that bossy, unfriendly exterior, you have a kind heart. I know that you just hide it to protect yourself from getting hurt. I just want you to know, you can tell me anything. I'll always be here for you. I know that your parents aren't exactly the greatest in the world, but at least you have them. Not like a little "orphan boy" like me. Ha! I'll see you next year in sixth grade. Love, Arnold. PS: If you ever want to talk, call me or e-mail me." Helga looked up and smiled at her secret crush. "Thanks Arnold. Maybe I will." She said softly. He nodded and left. Helga sunk back into her chair and sighed happily.

Gerald groaned. "Arnold, man, I can't believe after two years you still want to find her. You know that was probably a once in a lifetime meeting. I don't think she even goes to our school."

"You're wrong, Gerald. She does go to our school and I'm pretty sure I know her. I just need your help trying to find her." Arnold answered, writing down the last female name from his yearbook on a spreadsheet on his computer. Gerald groaned again as Arnold turned to face him. "Please help me find her, Gerald." He asked, pleading for his friend to help him. Gerald sighed and nodded. "Great. Now, I know we can eliminate all the, kindergarteners, first graders, second graders, and third graders." He said, deleting all the kids third graders and younger. "And I know it's not Ruth McDougal." Gerald nodded again and watched as Arnold highlighted her and deleted her name. "That leaves all the fourth graders, all the fifth graders, the sixth graders, and the remainder of the seventh graders."

"Okay, man. Let's do this. What outfit did you wear that night?" Arnold went to his closet and pulled out a black suit. Gerald walked over with a pair of tweezers in his hand. He inspected the outfit and pulled a strand of blond hair from the threads. Arnold immediately knew it wasn't his. Gerald went to the microscope on Arnold's desk and put it under the lens. "Well, Arnold, I'd say it's safe to say this girl is a natural blond." Arnold went to his computer and deleted all the brunettes, red heads and unnatural blonds.

"Gerald, that only leaves eight girls." Arnold said, his eyes widening.

"Man, that really narrows it down. What are their names?" Gerald asked. Arnold turned back to his computer screen.

"Summer, Connie, Gloria, Hilda, Annie, Danielle, Rebecca and…Helga." Arnold answered, pausing before he said Helga's name. He turned to Gerald and saw he was trying not to laugh. He couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.

"Helga?" He laughed. "As in Helga G. Pataki? The girl who is always tormenting you in particular? The girl who never has anything nice to say to anyone? The girl who tricked you on April Fools' Day? The girl who tore the last piece of paper in that little pink book and made it into a spitball? Arnold, man! Think about it! Helga is not in love with you. She acts like she doesn't even like you!"

"I dunno, Gerald. I mean she can be nice at times." Arnold answered softly, resting his head on his arms. He smiled happily and closed his eyes.

"Arnold, are you okay? The last time I saw you with that goofy grin on your face was when you were thinking about Ruth." He paused, realizing what he just said. "Oh…my…goodness. Arnold, you have a crush on Helga!" Arnold immediately sat up.

"Me? A crush on Helga? No, no, no. I do NOT have a crush on Helga. You've got to be nuts, Gerald. I don't like her like that." Gerald rolled his eyes and turned away from his friend.

"Sure, Arnold. Come on, man. You can tell me. I'm your best friend." He answered.

Arnold hesitated and turned away, hiding the blush that formed on his cheeks. "Promise not to tell anyone?" He asked. Gerald put his hand on Arnold's shoulder and nodded. "I guess I kinda do like Helga. I mean, when Rhonda told me that I was going to marry her when I got older, I freaked out. I even had a dream that we got married, and she was mean in the beginning but actually really shy and scared around the end. She even almost admitted something but then I woke up."

"Hmm, mm, mm! Man, you've got it bad! You don't just like her, you love her."

"Love her? Is that what this is?" He asked. Gerald nodded.

"Sure is. Now then, let's get back to our experiments. I know that it can't be Rebecca or Annie because I saw them walk by when you and our little mystery girl were in the resturant and Danielle was in Chez Pierre while you were in Chez Paris. That leaves five girls: Summer, Connie, Gloria, Hilda and Helga. It can't be Hilda or Summer because you didn't even know them then."

"Right. And it can't be Gloria because she moved away before I met the mystery girl and Connie had a date with someone else that night."

"Well, Arnold, that only leaves one girl. Helga."



Gerald and Arnold spent the entire weekend figuring out what to do about Helga being the girl who appeared at Chez Paris. Finally, Monday morning came. The bell rang, sounding the start of school. Gerald rushed towards his locker.

"Oh, dearest Arnold. Last year, I would have given anything to be Lila, however this year I am so happy that you've realized you don't like her like her anymore. Arnold, my darling, maybe this year I'll gather up enough courage to tell you how I really feel. Maybe this year, of all years, I'll be able to tell you, I love you, Arnold. I love you!" Gerald slowly crept up towards the garbage can and noticed two blond pigtails poking out. He peered over the lid and noticed Helga was sitting there, starting at a heart locket with Arnold's picture in it. His eyes widened and he rushed off to tell Arnold.

"Man, you are not going to believe this!" Gerald cried, pulling Arnold by his arm. Arnold grunted as Gerald pulled him into the boys' bathroom.

"Gerald, what is it?" He asked.

"Helga loves you!" He cried out.

"What?!"

"I heard her confessing to a locket with your picture in it. If I were you, man, I'd watch her carefully, you know, stalk her for a while. Just to hear her confessing. We've always wondered where she used to go to, ever since preschool. She's been going off places just to tell a picture of you how much she cares for you." Arnold gave his friend a confused glance. "I'm serious, Arnold!"

"All right, Gerald. I'll follow her around today and see just what she says. You may be right about her."

"I am right about her!" Gerald cried as the late bell rang. The two boys rushed out of the bathroom and into their classroom.

Arnold grunted as he felt the first spitball of the day hit him in the back of his head. He turned around and saw Helga sitting there, twirling her thumbs. She glanced over at him and glared.

"What?" She whispered sharply. He shook his head and smiled gently. She tilted her head, her scowl turning into a confused expression. His smile grew and he turned back around, leaning his head on his desk. His eyes suddenly drooped. Behind him, Helga sighed softly and rested her cheek in her palm, staring dreamily at Arnold. From across the room, Harold noticed the two's reactions to each other and decided to tease them all he could.

Class seemed to hardly begin when the bell rang signaling for recess to begin. Arnold rushed out of the classroom and pretended to wait for Gerald on the bench. Gerald approached him and motioned that Helga had gone behind the dumpsters. Arnold quickly made his way over there, as to try not to attract any attention to himself. He approached the dumpster and heard a soft voice coming from behind.

"Oh, my love. Someday, I will tell you how I feel. Despite the fact I may act like a complete fool in public, truth be, Arnold, I adore you. Those emerald orbs of yours drown me. The only reason I pretend to hate you is because I'm truly madly in love with you, and I don't want you to know it just yet. My darling, I wish I could tell you without having to worry about getting hurt."

Arnold smiled secretly and walked off towards the swings. He sat down on one and began to kick up some sand. He noticed Helga walked out from behind the garbage can and smiled softly. Suddenly he felt a forceful push and before he knew it he was on the ground, face first.

"Well, Ar-nold!" A gruff voice called from behind him. He turned around and saw Harold standing behind him, with Stinky and Sid to his sides. "You know, if you weren't making ga-ga eyes at Helga over there you would have heard me coming up behind you."

"Huh?" Arnold questioned innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Harold."

"You like Helga, Arnold. Admit it!" Harold said, grabbing Arnold by the collar.

"Ooh!" Stinky and Sid chimed in mockingly. Arnold narrowed his eyes and blushed.

"I do not like Helga, Harold." Arnold said softly.

"Liar!" Harold screamed. Suddenly he felt a strong push from the side. He stumbled and released Arnold, falling into the sand. He looked up and saw Helga glaring at him. He smirked suspiciously. "Ooh, getting your little girlfriend to fight your battles for you, Arnold?" He asked. Arnold walked towards Helga and smiled his thanks. He turned to face Harold.

"She's a girl and she's a friend, but she's not my girlfriend and I never asked her to push you, even though you deserved it."

"Ooh, that must mean Helga is the one who likes Arnold." Stinky mocked.

"I do not like Arnold, Stinky! You take that back or you're going to be the one eating sand!" She said throwing a fake punch. Stinky gulped and stepped back behind Sid. "Now, the three of you, beat it before Old Betsy and The Five Avengers need to rough you up." She said. Stinky and Sid took off and Harold scrambled to get up. "You too, Pink Boy." She snapped. Harold ran, screaming.

Arnold turned to face the girl. "Thanks a bunch, Helga." He said. Helga blushed and nodded.

"No problem, Football Head. Besides, they were getting on my nerves. They just like picking on people." She was interrupted by the sound of the bell.

"Going to class, Helga?" Arnold asked. Helga shrugged and smiled.

"Yeah."

"Wanna walk with me?"

"Uh, sure, Arnold." She answered. The two walked side by side into the school.

Helga sighed happily as she closed the door to her Arnold shrine. Slowly she lit a few candles and sat on the floor pillow. She took out her pink book and her pen. "My dearest Arnold. Today was a piece of heaven. You actually thanked me for something and you actually asked to walk to class with me. Oh, Arnold, I love –."

"Hey, Olga!" Helga's father's voice rang from behind her bedroom door. Helga sighed and came out from the closet.

"It's Helga, dad!" She said.

"Whatever, your little friend Archibald is on the phone."

"What?! Arnold is calling me?"

"Uh, yeah, Arnold. Pick up the phone, girl." Helga immediately rushed to her bedside table and snatched the phone from its hook. She screamed as she slid from one side of her bed to the floor. She grunted and sat up, holding the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" She asked shakily.

"Hey, Helga. It's Arnold." Helga blushed and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, Football Head. How's life treating ya?"

"Good, I guess. I've still got a bruise from Harold shoving me off the swing." Helga couldn't help but chuckle. "What's so funny?" Arnold asked.

"Nothing. Just the picture of you eating sand." Arnold laughed on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah, I guess it was kind of funny."

"Yeah. So, Arnold. Why'd ya call?" She asked. She didn't mind the fact he called, but the reason why was killing her. She had to know.

"No reason. I just wanted to talk."

"Oh, okay. About what?"

"Um, stuff. Actually, I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go to dinner with me Friday night." Helga immediately dropped the phone. After the realization of what Arnold said sunk in she dove for the phone and brought it back to her ear. "Helga, are you still there?"

"Uh, yeah, Arnold. I'm still here." She answered, blushing furiously.

"Good. So how about it?"

"Uh, you mean, like a date or something?" She didn't want to sound too forward, but she wanted to put Arnold in a situation where he had to tell her if it was a date or not.

"Yeah. I guess you could call it that. I was thinking Chez Paris. I had a lot of fun the last time we went." Helga assumed that he meant where they had to wash dishes for not being able to pay. She smiled to herself and held the phone tighter.

"Sure, Arnold. That sounds like fun. I'd love to." She didn't mean to put that last part in and hoped she could take it back as soon as she'd said it.

"Great! I'll pick you up at six."

"Okay, Arnold."

"Great. Well, Grandpa's calling me for dinner. I'll see you in school tomorrow, Helga. Bye."

"G'bye, Arnold." She said and hung up the phone. A full minute went by that she sat in silence. Finally she let out a high-pitched happy scream as she flopped on her bed. She heard two pairs of feet run up the stairs and ignored the turning of her doorknob. Miriam walked in followed by Bob.

"Are you okay, Helga?" Miriam asked gently. Helga nodded and turned away from her parents. They slowly closed the door to her room.

"She's a nutcase." Bob said.

"No she's not, B." Miriam answered.

"Sure she is. That scream had something to do with her little friend, Arnie, or whatever his name is." Miriam glared at her husband.

"She likes him, and his name is Arnold."

"Whatever, Miriam. Anyway, my beeper commercial is coming on soon, so don't bother me."

"Sure, B. I'm gonna go make a smoothie."

The week passed by slowly but finally Friday came. Helga sifted through her closet and found the same blouse she wore Valentine's night. She immediately pulled it out of her closet and threw it on. She sighed and sifted through her drawers, finding a pink skirt. Then she looked through her closet again and found a pair of white high-healed shoes. She knew she couldn't wear her red ones, for two reasons. One; she only had one and two; she didn't want to look exactly like Cecile. She admired herself in the mirror and decided to release her hair from their captive pigtails. She began to brush her hair out and smiled, approving her new look.

"Helga! Your friend Arnold is here!" Her mother's voice rang clearly in her ears. She gave herself one last look over and went downstairs. She slowly descended from the staircase and gasped at Arnold, who was wearing the same tuxedo he wore Valentine's night. In his hand he held a single pink rose. She blushed and walked down the stairs.

"Hey, Arnold." She said shyly. He smiled and took her hand in his, kissing the back of it. She blushed furiously and couldn't help but smile. He looked up and handed her the rose. She smiled and set it in a small vase next to the door.

"Ready to go?" He asked. She nodded and they left.

Outside, Phil, Arnold's Grandpa was waiting patiently. He started the car as soon as he saw the two kids come out of Helga's house. He chuckled softly. Arnold opened the car door and allowed Helga to go in first. She smiled happily and got in. Within minutes, they had arrived in front of Chez Paris. "Don't come home too late, Short Man." Phil said winking at his grandson. Arnold blushed and turned to Helga.

"Arnold. Ah, oui monsieur. Your table is all set." The headwaiter said, taking the two kids to the exact table they first sat at. Arnold smiled as Helga looked around and blushed. He knew she knew that was the same table.

"Something wrong, Helga?" He asked innocently.

"No. Nothing's wrong. In fact, so far, everything's been going great." She whispered.

"You seem really shy. Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. She nodded gently, smiling at Arnold. He smiled back. Arnold noticed her hand was lingering on the table. Slowly he reached for it and placed his hand upon hers. She gasped and looked up. "You remind me of someone." He whispered, narrowing his eyes at her, as if identifying her. She blushed and turned away.

"Bonjour, monsieur and mademoiselle. I am Jacques, your waiter. I'll be serving you tonight. May I start you off with something to drink?"

Helga sighed relieved. She didn't want to tell Arnold the truth, at least not yet. "I'll have mineral water, please." She said softly.

"Sweetened iced tea, please."

"Oui. I'll be right back to take your orders." Jacques said, writing down their drink orders.

The night flew by. Arnold and Helga engaged in a hearty conversation on their families and the past seven years. Helga laughed enchantingly as Arnold told her of his and Gerald's bus trip downtown dressed as fruits, how he had lost his favorite blue hat, and finally of Rhonda predicting they would get married. Helga laughed, knowing Arnold had no idea she already knew about the fortune telling matchmaker.

"So anyway, I tried the test, about a hundred and ten times and it always came out the same. You and me. Can you even believe that?"

"That's ridiculous, Arnold. Why'd you even try it in the first place?"

"I guess I just wanted to see who I would get."

"That makes sense." She answered softly.

"I guess. Hey, Helga, do you remember the April Fool's dance?"

"Yeah, who can forget that? I was soaked."

Arnold laughed. "We all were, remember? Why'd you play that prank on me in the first place?"

Helga leaned back in her chair. "You're such a pushover, Arnold, I couldn't resist." Suddenly a piece of her hair fell over her eyes as she leaned on the table. Arnold noticed this and smiled gently. Helga sat up and blushed.

"Now I know who you remind me of." He said. Helga turned away from him.

"Would you excuse me for a minute, Arnold. I'll be right back."

"Sure, Helga."

Helga paced the bathroom, the tiles clacking underneath her feet. "This is just great. I knew I shouldn't have worn this stupid outfit. Now my deepest, darkest secret will be unlocked by the boy I love. He probably doesn't even realize he booked our table at our resturant and he probably doesn't even realize he's wearing the same outfit he wore that night. What am I supposed to do?" She asked herself. "That's it! I'm sick of living a lie. Tonight, I confess to Arnold I love him."

"Hey, Helga." Arnold said as Helga came back to the table. "I was wondering, do you want to go for a walk in the park. It's supposed to be warm tonight."

"Sure, Arnold." Helga answered.

The night wind blew gently past Helga's cheek. She felt warm and cold at the same time. Arnold was on her right and the lake was on her left. She gasped gently as a hand enclosed around hers. Arnold turned Helga to face him. She looked deep into his eyes as the gap between their lips slowly closed. Before they touched, Helga pulled away.

"Arnold, what are you doing?" She asked. He smiled at her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She gasped softly as his eyes closed half way.

"Helga, I know your secret. I know you were Cecile." Helga gasped and backed away from him.

"How? You couldn't possibly know!" She cried.

"I have my ways of finding out. Gerald and I did a few experiments and they all pointed to you." He turned away from her and smiled. "And frankly, I'm glad they all did."

"Why?" She asked. He turned back to face her.

"Because, Helga, I love you." He said softly and kissed her. She gasped and finally gave into the kiss. Slowly her hands wrapped around his neck. He gently pulled away from her. She laughed softly and pressed her forehead to his.

"Really, Football Head?" She asked. He nodded and held her closer. "I love you too, Arnold."

Arnold chuckled. "Would you consider us going out now?" She laughed and nodded. "Good."