Author's Note : Hello, dear readers! This is a new fanfiction, a one about Arnold and Helga-of course-and … well, I hope you like it. If you haven't read any of my other stories, please do! And leave reviews!
Arnold thought everything in the world was right. That is, until he saw her.
That morning, Arnold had finally finished unloading boxes in his new apartment, glad to be in Boston at last. He had finished college just a few years ago, had gotten a job, and, in between, found himself a lover. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd wasn't the best candidate, according to Gerald, but Arnold didn't care. She would be moving in with him tomorrow.
Arnold's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Shortman, were back in Seattle, living with their in-laws, and taking care of Sunset Arms. They were sad to see their son go, but elated to ( A ) see him find the love of his life, ( B ) see that he was coming home for the holidays, and ( C ) have a new child. That's right, Arnold was an older brother to Michael Shortman, a bright-eyed, shy, sarcastic, brown-haired boy. Oddly, both brothers didn't share the same football head. And when Arnold was seventeen, Michael was eight, and their parents and grandparents were, well … old, the Shortmans adopted a Russian orphan, Aleksandrya Anastasia* Popov. She was pretty, with light olive skin, wide gray eyes, and the darkest hair you've ever seen. Arnold and Michael weren't fond of their new little sister, but, before long, the three Shortmans were as thick as thieves. In fact, the siblings chatted earlier on the phone.
The year was 2016, Arnold was twenty-nine, and unloading his boxes put the young man into a good mood. Arnold Philip Shortman, according to most, was drop-dead gorgeous, with tantalizing emerald eyes, thin brown eyebrows, unruly golden locks, and a strong, slender build. Arnold hadn't really changed since he was nine, which explained why he still wore plaid shirts, black sweatshirts, and cargo shorts.
"Arnold!"
Arnold whipped to the door, blue cap on head, and walked over to it. Gerald had told him he was coming over tomorrow, but since when did Gerald sound like a girl?
"Arnold, it's meee!" cried a familiar, female voice. "Rhonda!"
Arnold blushed, then smiled, then frowned, and then wondered what on earth Rhonda was doing in Boston already. He planned to set up the house all romantic, with flower petals, steamy baths, and silk pillows, and wanted to take a boat ride with her in Public Garden.
There, and only there, would he propose.
Stuffing the elegant engagement ring into his pocket, Arnold walked over to the door and opened it, smiling to see his lover. Rhonda, like Arnold, had certainly matured, with long black hair, pretty brown eyes, smooth creamy skin, and a curvy shape. Behind her were two boys, nerdy and tall, carrying her luggage. Arnold frowned.
"Um, Rhonda?" Arnold asked, confused. "I told you not to bring the Henchmen."
"Oh, I missed you too, Arnold!" Rhonda hugged him and kissed his cheeks. "Of course I had to bring the Henchmen!" She pushed past him, bags in hand, and stared at the luxurious apartment Arnold had bought for them. It was beautiful, with more than half the walls covered with tall windows, giving the two a view of Boston. The snacks were stored in the oak wood pantries, fruit in their clean bowls, and the dining room swept and polished. Rhonda saw the marvelous painting in the living room, which had sofas, a console, a chess table, and a TV, passed the romantic balcony, marveled at the study room, and gasped softly in her and Arnold's new bedroom.
The romantic canopy bed in an alcove surrounded by desks and plants, their new bedroom was quite spacious, with large windows, built-in bookshelves, a tiny fridge, and a comfy sofa.
"Do you like it?" Arnold blushed, smiling. "I spent all morning working on everything."
"Oh Arnold," Rhonda whirled around, her Henchmen behind Arnold. "I hate it."
"What?"
"Arnold, you've been working so hard to just buy this place," Rhonda said, sitting on the bed. "Mommy and Daddy can just buy us a penthouse."
"I don't want a penthouse," Arnold desperately said, quite tired of Rhonda's antics. "I bought this apartment for us! Now, do you like it? And please don't say no."
"Arnold, I think this is all getting to you," Rhonda said gently, massaging her lover's head. "You know what? Why don't you just buy some stuff from the supermarket? And no-named-brand food is not acceptable in Rhonda's apartment."
"Our apartment, dear," Arnold sighed, feeling the ring in his pocket. He placed it into his drawer, without Rhonda noticing, took his bus pass, wallet, and shoes, and walked out the apartment building.
The window whistled into Arnold's ears as he took the trolley car all the way to the nearest supermarket. As soon as he got off, took a cart ( after paying twenty-five cents for it ), and walked inside, Arnold realized that he'd left his wallet at home.
"Then what was in my pocket …," he thought angrily, pulling out a firm burrito, something he wanted for lunch. Arnold sighed, put his burrito up, and continued to window-shop. Maybe, when he'd go home to retrieve his wallet, he'd know what to be. Arnold walked over to Aisle 7, where they sold yogurt, and began to write down his shopping list.
Arnold thought everything in the world was right. That is, until he saw her.
She was slender, with slightly muscular arms, a graceful, curvy build, and the most golden hair you've ever seen. Her back was turned, pin-straight tresses covering her head and backside. Mystery Lady was dressed in a navy blue button-down, a tight black skirt, and a pair of heels, soft bangs covering one of her magnificent blue eyes.
Arnold coughed, trying to ignore the gorgeous woman, but couldn't help but stare. She's probably my age or something, he thought. I'm new to this neighborhood; I'll introduce myself.
Mystery Lady laughed at Arnold, blinking her eyes. "Are you going to keep staring at me, Wonder Boy*?"
That laugh, Arnold thought, then he blushed, realizing that he was ogling at her. Outer appearance doesn't matter, he reminded himself.
"Hello," he managed. "I'm new to this neighborhood. My name is Arnold-"
"Shortman," the woman finished, smirking. "Everyone knows you. I know you, Best Actor of 2015."
Arnold smiled at the memory. "I was nominated," he modestly said. "Plus, I'm starting a new film in December, and the premiere for my last film is tomorrow night. I hear we're getting a new makeup artist."
"That's odd," the woman placed her hands on her hips. "I thought an old friend would at least recognize me, Yutz."
Arnold frowned. "I'm not Yutz, but Arnold-" He blanched.
Oh no.
No.
This can't be.
How could this happen?
"Helga?" Arnold asked, eyes bulging.
"Hey, Football Head," laughed Helga. "I really, really missed you. How's the family?"
"Good, good," Arnold breathlessly said. He hugged Helga, relieved to see his old classmate again, and she hugged him back, laughing.
"You're in a good mood," Arnold complimented.
"Yes, well, I guess you cannot refer me as Helga G. Pataki anymore," Helga giggled. "Get it? Because after October, I'm Helga Geraldine Foster!"
"Foster?" Arnold gasped. "Helga, you're getting married? Good for you! To whom, though?"
"Liam Foster," Helga smiled dreamily. Then she scowled. "Don't think he makes me go soft. I just really love him."
"Am I invited to your wedding?" Arnold asked.
"Oh yes, everyone is," Helga nodded. "You can be Football Head of the Year, or better, my maid of honor."
"Very funny, Helga," Arnold chortled. "Welp, I guess I might as well invite you to my premiere."
"A premiere?" Helga's eyes bulged, but she then turned deadpan. "Sounds pretty cool, I guess. Yeah, I'll be there, Football Head."
"Great," Arnold winked, and Helga blushed. "Welcome to the neighborhood, Shortman," she said, smiling. "Maybe we can catch up tomorrow morning at my place. Pheebs is coming."
"Sure," Arnold shrugged. "Gerald is coming."
"Oh no, Geraldo," Helga rolled her eyes. "Well, I might as well buy some disinfectant." She looked at Arnold and giggled uncontrollably. "And some groceries for a certain, forgetful Football Head."
"Gee, thanks, Helga," Arnold sarcastically said as she continued to giggle. She strolled off into another aisle, still laughing, as Arnold dug into his pocket to retrieve his hard burrito. He blushed, making a realization, and shifted, walking over to another bathroom.
Oh my gosh, Arnold thought, washing his face. I ran into Helga today.
Author's Note : Hey guys! Did you enjoy my fanfiction? Did you like it? Ignore that those questions are pretty much the same, please! Anyway, thank you, and please leave a review after reading!
Stay safe,
RomanionWarrior783
