Helga wasn't sure were she was, or even who she was now. After all that had happened, laying in the park seemed to be her only option. Phoebe was gone for the weekend so Helga was left to fend for herself. Helga sighed and thought 'Arnold my beloved, now that it's all said and done will you take me with you or leave me stranded in this desert of my tormented pre-teen soul'.
Her thoughts didn't mean as much as they used to. They used to be able to express the way she was feeling, they used to able you curb her desire for Arnold. But not now Helga wanted something real. Something she could touch, something she could see. Not just a bunch of fantasy's inside an 11 year old year old girls mind. She and Arnold hadn't spoke about the incident on top of the FTI building in almost a year and a half. Since then Helga had found other things to occupy her interest; she had picked the guitar and because of her natural poetic talent writing songs wasn't anything difficult. But even that wouldn't keep her mind from reliving that moment over and over in the dead of the night. She could still remember that way he tasted…
Meanwhile…
Arnold had grown quite a lot since his hormones kicked in. He was no longer short and stubby; but now quite tall, not to mention handsome. Arnold ditched the blue t-shirt and his "un-tucked shirt tails" (I STILL SAY IT'S A KILT!!). Now he wore a fitted black t-shirt and torn blue jeans… but the 6 sizes to small hat remained, everyone could still see the little boy in Arnold through that hat. Unknown to Helga was Arnold's struggle with trying to fight off the visits to the FTI building, trying not to remember everything that Helga had said but "Who do you has be building shrines over you in her closet all these years!" would still ring in his head at night.
One Saturday evening Helga was walking home her guitar in its case- flung over her back- thinking about some new song lyrics. When around the corner…WHAM!!!. The distant but familiar feeling over running into someone headlong and smashing on the side walk with your back came back to Helga. But instead of the reaction we're all used to, Helga jumped up praying her guitar was OK. Not caring about what or who it was she ran into she ran into. Helga sighed with relief as she saw her guitar was not hurt, then a familiar voice asked "Helga?".