AN: This was my first fic actually. Found it in the depths of my computer and thought I'd upload it. Wrote it back in highschool; I don't think it's as devolved as my other story on here (Side by Side) and it flows a little choppier, but there you go. Fifteen year-old Avery at his finest. Give it a read and see what you think. This will have about four or five chapters I think, which I will upload once a week on Fridays until it's done. Oh, and I do read your reviews and enjoy them thoroughly, so if you like what you read (or not) please consider telling me a bit about it. Hopefully you'll like this one while I work on my next little piece. Enjoy!

-AG

Chapter 1: Morning

His name ripped out through the silence and he pushed himself up in bed and fought the sheets around him. He looked around the dark room, light by a dim shade of grey coming in from the skylight roof. It was early enough for the sun to be shoving its way into the small rooftop room, but thick dark plooms blanketed everything on the horizon. The threatening black clouds that hung heavy in the sky the previous night had given out and a light patter of rain rapped against the glass. Smashing a hand against the button on the potato alarm clock, Arnold Short climbed stiffly out of bed.

He walked over to the ladder inlayed in the wall and opened one of the side windows. The air smelled clean and heavy, thick from the storm and the sweet rain. He took in a breath and closed the shade, turning to climb back down. He walked over to his desk and sat down on the grey and black close checker swivel chair. Arnold frowned as he looked at the mounds of paper scattered over the top; somewhere in there was today's calculus homework. He brushed his hand through the papers haphazardly, trying to glimpse the assignment when a flash of red caught his eye. He shifted the papers out of the way and looked at the red hardbound book underneath. P.S. 118 Yearbook was written in black chalk like writing on the cover. Arnold smiled and opened the book, flipping through the pages and looking at the pictures of his past.

A lot had changed since the years at 118, the entire gang drifting apart to deal with being teenagers. They still saw each other often and talked; being in a public school system tends to group the same group of people together until high school graduation. He scanned the photos and came across Gerald Johansen; they had remained friends and were still closer than ever. Gerald had made the basketball team and was pushed to varsity just after the start of Sophomore year, making him the youngest player on the varsity team. Arnold had found his talents in swimming; he was the fastest one on the team and he was set to make varsity as well.

Arnold had changed quite a bit from the scrawny little kid in the blue sweater his picture depicted. At fifteen, he had come in to his own nicely; his body was brushed with light muscle that pushed away the soft lines of youth and the long hours of practice at the pool tanned him up a bit. His hair had darkened in places and was now a mix of dirty and bright blond, which hung down haphazardly in his face and brushed the tops of his ears. He crossed the room and opened the door to the hallway of the boarding house. As he walked down the hall, he could hear the faint sounds of frying and clanging pots coming from the kitchen.

I hope that's Grandpa. I don't think I can take another watermelon turkey Arnold mused to himself.

Not much had changed in the boarding house as the years went by, some of the boarders came and went but for the majority, everything just went on as usual. Phil and Gertie were still running things very well and taking daring culinary risks in the kitchen. Arnold stepped in the bathroom and shut the door; it was still too early for the ritual morning line to form. He started the hot water and walked over to the mirror, pulling off his shirt. He stared at his face in the mirror as a pang of nervousness hit his stomach. The regional swim qualifiers were going to be held later that day, and team was in bad shape. The captain had gotten the flu two days before the match and the starting swimmer pulled his shoulder at a practice match. Arnold was the only one left with any speed; if he pulled this off today, Hillwood High would be heading for the state finals and he would all but guarantee his spot as captain. He stepped in the shower, hoping the hot water would keep his churning stomach at bay.

Here we go.

The light patter of rain woke her up, rapping on her window and breaking the dead silence of the house. That was what really hit her; the absolute quiet blanketing the entire house and seeming to epicenter in the small bedroom on the second floor of the Pataki house. Helga sat up in bed and looked around in the darkness. The grey gloom entered through the open window and lit the room in a sick charcoal. She stood up and crossed the room, the cold of the hardwood floor slicing into her feet with each step. The hall was as empty as her room was; darkness flooded the entire house and there were no signs of anyone there but her. She went into her parent's bedroom and found the bedspread untouched from the night before, from the last two nights before.

"Goddamn it Miriam" Helga whispered and leaned up against the doorframe.

She turned from the bedroom and went down the stairs into the living room, moving with practiced ease through the darkness. She turned on the kitchen light and pulled up a bar stool.

"Awesome. Just awesome" Helga said reaching for a box of chocolate doughnuts on the counter.

Her lunch box was sitting with the lid open next to an empty fifth of Jack Daniels on the bar. A can of Barbarol and a Budweiser were tucked in the tin box with a post-it note.

Helga-

I've gone out to the market and then out with some friends.

Bob is going to stay in Phoenix for a few more days at that conference thing.

Packed your lunch and don't worry, I'm not taking the car.

-Mom

Helga sighed and walked back upstairs. She hated to be alone in the house and as the rain beat down harder against the house, she just felt more alone. She went back in her room and sat down on the bed.

I should just go back to bed. Sleep until anyone cares to find me.

Her thoughts instantly fluttered of Arnold; his smile, his face, the way that his hair hung down and he had to blow it out of his eyes. His warm voice and his amazing talent in the water.

"Oh shit! His game!" Helga said bolting up and checking her calendar.

The word regionals was circled in red. She sighed and sat back down. The rain pattered down a little harder on the window outside and the large oak tree outside her window moaned against the wind. She laughed a little and stood up, picking up a jacket from her desk. He was the only reason she was going to walk out that door and into the cold, the only reason she cared about life. She longed to see his face and to be near him; every moment she was away from him it hurt a little more. Helga still poured love for Arnold, and nothing she knew how to do could change that. She had tried to forget him many times but it all ended up with her love getting a little stronger with each failed attempt.

She had never missed one of his games and she didn't intend to start now, especially with what was riding on the days match. Nothing made her happier or more proud than to watch her football head slice through the water and dominate the competition, scoring record times on each lap; and the fact that he wore a Speedo at every game certainly didn't worsen her attendance. Of course she would shout and call him names from the stands, more on principal than actually meaning anything by it. Any personal dislike that Arnold had felt from them was long gone by now, in fact he might have thought something was wrong if she went a day without insulting him just once. She grabbed her umbrella and walked to the front door, ready to tackle the rain and the cold for the warmth of his face.

Chapter 2: 4/22/11