Author's Note: What happens when you don't write for long, long periods of time? You almost forget HOW to write in the first place. Gah! I tweaked this a little bit - just some changes in formatting, maybe reworded a sentence or two.
The Pataki household was eerily quiet. Miriam lay slumped over the kitchen table, a small puddle of drool forming under her open mouth and a light snore escaping her lips. Big Bob Pataki had passed out in his easy chair, the light from the television illuminating his face every few seconds causing him to frown even in his slumber. Olga's room had been kept as almost like a shrine; everything was kept exactly as it was left in anticipation of her return which hadn't occurred for the past 8 years. The only one conscious was Helga, who lay in her bed staring at her ceiling.
When she was a child she had managed to place glow in the dark stickers above her to make her feel as if she were surfing the Milky Way and they still glowed faintly in the moonlight. At least, this is what she told herself now. Her real motivations stemmed from a football headed boy and his sky light ceiling. Despite her serene surroundings this particular evening, Helga was having quite a lot of trouble breathing. Her loneliness was often overwhelming, a throbbing so intense she would have trouble catching her breath. Her skin would tingle and then burn with desire for just one more chance to feel that exhilarating rush that came from the contact of skin lightly touching skin. Her eyes began to water, her breathing came in quick gasps and before she knew it she was holding herself chanting aloud, "It's going to be okay, it's going to be fine..."
She knew the truth and couldn't deny that her heartache wouldn't end for many more months.
"Easy Helga, steady ol' girl. It'll pass. It always does..."
Her trembling stopped after a few minutes, but she kept her eyes shut all the same. Her thoughts wandered to her future plans, her only source of comfort for the past two years. When she could flip off her "home", take what measly belongings she actually wanted with her and catch the first bus out of Hillwood...that was when it would all be okay. But she still had one more year left...well 103 days. The time to leave was fast approaching. She knew where she was going to college. She had a full ride scholarship that paid for meals, her room, and her tuition. She had gotten a job just a few months before she turned sixteen, worked part time when school was in session and full time during the summer. She saved every last penny she could spare. Miriam and Bob had stopped supporting her long ago; they neither paid for her clothing, food or school supplies so for all intensive purposes she was completely independent of them. She picked up extra hours when she was able to, growing her savings to help pay for her bus ticket, her hotel stay or room rental until she had access to the dorms. She had even acquired a full time position for when she arrived so she wouldn't have to rely solely on her savings.
And then she'd say goodbye to all the memories...
She'd say goodbye to Phoebe...the barista at her local cafe who knew exactly what to get her based on her expression, the librarian at both the school and county library who chitchatted with her whenever she checked out more books...
Arnold...
Her fantasies eventually lulled her to sleep, and soon her soft snores were all that was heard. She slept fitfully, her subconscious working over her past refusing to let her rest comfortably.
She had become friendlier since PS 118. She had stopped deliberately pushing people out of her path, she didn't chuck spit balls at anyone...she didn't actively seek confrontation anymore. She just wanted to be left alone. But for all her changes she also remained pretty much the same. She still retained her trademark scowl, she still had a bow situated somewhere on her person...her fists would occasionally wave angrily in the air when she was upset or threatening some idiot who had crashed into her. Everyone took her threats with a grain of salt, but instead of further facing her legendary wrath (don't wake the sleeping dragon!), they all just did what she commanded and apologized profusely.
But it was he who would inexplicably appear if it seemed as if things might get out of hand...then he would calm her with the only way he knew how...
He became aware of her weakness a few years back, sometime after 7th grade, but he'd only use this weapon whenever he felt it was necessary. She'd be in mid-rant, raising her fists as if to strike...that's when he'd smoothly catch her wrist and step in her path, always with a mask of seeming indifference (a frown would make her defensive).
"You don't want to hit him, Helga. Even if you think he deserves it." It was like some Jedi mind trick!
She would gape for just a second, before snatching her hand away, glaring bloody murder at him. But she would always relent. She would always do as he asked.
"Whatever, Arnold-o!" Never more than a few words, she never spoke more than was absolutely necessary. And then she'd stomp away, clutching her wrist to her chest, cherishing those precious nanoseconds of contact...the touch of her loved one that sent vibrations all throughout her body...that made her remember that she was a human who could feel. It was the one thing she couldn't get enough of but couldn't allow herself to seek.
He was the only one who dared, he was the only one allowed. Phoebe had been so busy these past few years; there was no semblance of contact: no hugs, no accidental brushes. Her parents hadn't touched her since she was nine, and even before then it was only because of her great dependence on them as an infant. It had turned her into a defensive and extremely sensitive girl. Time had changed her further...the touch deprivation had made her skin hypersensitive, and caused a great hollow within her breast that she couldn't really describe nor get rid of. She couldn't bring herself to seek outside contact once she became aware of the lack of it. Her only source of human interaction had been those occasional collisions from her classmates. But that hadn't happened in over two years. Her last remaining hope was in escape; she could shed the ugly skin of Helga G. Pataki, terror of PS 118 and beyond and be just plain Helga, the smart and feisty girl who would be there for you no matter what. She could be tough without having to shake her fists at everyone; she could be sarcastic and biting without it being seen as a threat. She could just be. And that meant the world.
Morning dawned too soon. Her alarm sounded at 6am, blaring into her dark room. Stiffly, she hit the snooze button and opened her bleary eyes.
Another day down, just 102 more to go. Perhaps there was something she could do about that number.
Stretching out her limbs, she stuffed her feet into her fuzzy pink slippers and began to work out details for her final days at Hillwood High.
Helga had stopped noticing people around her all together several years ago out of self-preservation: they reminded her of all the relationships she didn't have. She didn't hang out with anyone from the old gang anymore. In fact, despite a few being in her classes, no one noticed her let alone spoke to her. She was practically invisible to them at this point. But there was still someone in particular who cared tremendously for her wellbeing. He had followed her every day throughout grade school, although he took a tremendous step back when they became teenagers. Somewhere along the way, he decided he had to let her go. When he realized that his love could never be enough to heal the damage, that she needed to see what was worthwhile in herself, accept who she was, and become comfortable in her own skin before she could ever understand why someone would love her...upon realizing this, he said goodbye to the fantasy of every calling her his own. So instead he just watched, cataloged her ups and downs to see how she was feeling, greeted her to get better insight.
If she frowned at him without saying anything, she was okay. If she seemed lost in space, and responded with a "hey" before scowling, she was slowly slipping into her own thoughts: a sign of approaching danger. Finally, if she didn't register she was being spoken to at all...well, he didn't want to think about it. It's not that he hadn't tried being her friend. He had noticed that Phoebe and Helga weren't really speaking as much during 8th grade. Thinking that this was the perfect chance for him to forge his own friendship with her, he actually made his presence known when he snuck up on her. He even tried his hand at conversation! But her defenses were always up. He couldn't get her to speak to him, she didn't even punch him in the face anymore! Eventually, he had to be content with what he always did for her: watch and be there if she seemed ready to break.
This particular morning, he noticed that she was walking down the hall a bit more hesitantly. She took slow, calculated steps as if she were afraid the floor would give way beneath her feet. And for some reason...something about her appearance seemed different...but he couldn't see well from this angle. He took several steps back and scanned her quickly up and down. And then swallowed a gasp. What? Where was her bow? She never left home without a bow! Worried, he followed behind her, doing his best to blend in with the crowd (not exactly a difficult task for him) but stopped short when she entered the administration offices.
Brainy frowned. "What reason would she have to go there?" But he shrugged it off. After all, graduation was fast approaching. She was probably getting ready to head out into the real world.
Arnold hadn't had a meaningful conversation with Helga since they were ten. Had he kept his perceptive abilities that he possessed in grade school, then he would have pieced together the same picture that Brainy had come up with but with a very different conclusion: Yes, his tormentor needed to have a healthier image of herself, but it needed to be forced upon her: don't take "no" for an answer! But being aware of what his touch did to her put him in an awkward position. He remembered the events at FTI but honestly couldn't decide what he should have done with that information. He didn't love her the way she loved him; he knew that there was something more to her character then the rough exterior she preferred to show. He figured it was due to her own insecurities, how her parents treated her. But the nicer he was to her, the more she seemed to resent him. He had tried to explain that it wasn't out of pity, his need to be kind to her, but the conversation barely made it past a "Hey, Helga." She would mutter under her breath, "Yeah, whatever, football head" and bolt out of his sight as if he had the plague.
His indecisiveness had made the situation more complicated; the longer he waited, the worse he began to feel about everything. Eventually, she disappeared into the background of his existence. But this year, things had been a bit different. He had started to notice her once again when she glided past him on the first day of school. Her eyes were looking at the floor, there was no frown, no comment directed at him or anyone else for that matter. She seemed almost exhausted; her movements were slow and unsure as she walked down the hallway. He had tried to remember the last time they had spoken...and couldn't come up with any conversations. They had classes together in the past but were never paired for any projects. She hadn't participated in any class discussions and seemed to prefer to chat with her teachers when the bell sounded for the next block. Come to think of it, the last time they had even made eye contact was two years ago, when he had stopped her from hitting that kid.
And now, school was just a few short months of ending...there would be prom, graduation. He still had time to talk to the infamous Helga G. Pataki before she'd disappear once again. Today would be the day. But something seemed more off than usual. She still looked tired, almost completely worn out. Her eyes were vacant, her entire face devoid of any emotion. He watched her as she walked down the hallway and disappeared into a classroom. A little knot was forming in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it would be better to converse with Phoebe first. Helga's expression...it worried him. But he was the resident worry wart...perhaps it was nothing.
Finding Phoebe was easier said than done. She was involved with so many clubs and after school activities he didn't know which one to start with. All of her classes were far more advanced and, for some reason, were situated on the other side of the school. That side of the campus seemed to be reserved for the AP students so he never saw her during passing periods. He figured he'd try his luck during break. She had to eat sometime, right? He waited for her in the cafeteria but didn't notice her in the crowds of people. He maneuvered himself near the front of the lines before it dawned on him that Phoebe probably packed her own snacks; she was very health conscious and her aspirations to become a physician had made her more acutely so. The school cafeteria didn't have very many healthy options, so the next best place to look would be the tables closest to the windows away from the throngs of hyper students. He found her huddled in a corner, munching on a banana with a book covering half her face.
He sat down quickly and pulled out his own snack, making a hasty greeting before he took a bite out of his candy bar.
"Arnold! What a pleasant surprise! I haven't spoken to you in quite a few months. How are you?"
"Good! I'm great! Just waiting to hear back from the schools I applied to...how 'bout you?"
Phoebe swallowed her food and dabbed at her lips with a napkin before she answered. "Oh, I'm doing quite alright. I've been very busy with my extra-curricular activities and AP classes. I've even been volunteering at the children's hospital. It's an interesting, if not heart breaking, experience." She stopped suddenly, a frown slowly appearing on her face. "Arnold, forgive me, but I must ask. Are you here to inquire about me?"
Arnold gave a sheepish grin before responding. He wanted to say this just right, but wasn't entirely sure how to go about it. "Well, I did want to speak to you. We haven't talked in so long and we used to be pretty close. But actually, I wanted to ask you about...Helga."
Phoebe's eyes opened wide at her friend's name, her eyebrows disappearing underneath her bangs. "Oh? Well, what did you wish to ask?"
"Have you spoken to her lately? I mean, she's changed so much and I hadn't talked to her...well, for much longer than I've spoken to you. I'm not sure how to approach her..." He trailed off miserably, uncertain of how to finish and what she'd say. Phoebe was 10 times friendlier than Helga, but she had always been very protective of her friend. She sat there for a moment, studying his expression before asking a question of her own.
"What do you mean, 'you're not sure how to approach her"? Was there something in particular you wished to speak to her about?"
"Oh! No, no, there isn't! I just...I dunno...it's just that we all don't hang out as much as we used to. Even though we've all changed, I don't even recognize Helga sometimes. I guess I was missing how close we all were..."
Phoebe continued to look at him, her expression unreadable. The silence was beginning to make Arnold even more nervous, especially because her eyes seemed to be analyzing every aspect of his person. She finally sat back in her chair, seeming to have made up her mind.
"Although Helga and I are friends, we have drifted apart considerably over the past few years. But I'm afraid our time has run out so we won't be able to discuss this any further." The buzzer sounded immediately, much to Arnold's surprise. His mouth hung open in shock, uncertain of how to take her almost creepy attention to detail.
"Perhaps this conversation can continue at a later time? Are you available tomorrow evening?" She smiled at him hoping to ease his anxiety.
"Oh, well..um...I think I'm busy tomorrow. How is the rest of your week looking? I know you have a busy schedule." He quickly stood from his seat and picked up her books that were lying on the table, motioning with his head for her to lead the way. She got to her feet and proceeded down the hall...the one in the opposite direction from his class.
"I may have to get back to you on that. Is your number the same, or did you have a preferred way for me to contact you?" She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and held out her hands for the books.
"Same number. It's my cell phone, call me whenever."
"Will do. I think you should head to you class now. I apologize for making you tardy."
"Tardy? I'm late?" The buzzer sounded again, and Arnold suppressed a groan. Phoebe smiled in apology and stepped into her class. Arnold dashed back down the hall, his thoughts replaying their conversation. "That wasn't so bad...unnerving, but not bad at all..."
Unfortunately for the two friends, life got in the way of their meeting. Phoebe got caught up in her studies, and was dealing with the emotional traumas of volunteering with sick children. She figured that it would be best to maybe see Helga before she gave any advice to Arnold. After all, the blond girl would always be her best friend, but she couldn't reach her through phone calls, texts or e-mail. Social networking sites were out of the question; Helga never had one, never wanted one, and refused to make one just to keep in contact with her sole friend. She hoped that when she moved away to college, Helga would feel differently. But she wasn't sure how that would work out. Arnold too became distracted by his planning for college and ensuring that his grandparents would be comfortable once he left. He tried to spend as much time with them before graduation, feeling a fear in the pit of his stomach that once he left, they'd have some sort of accident and he wouldn't be able to help them out. He was walking down the street, playing just such a scenario in his head when he heard a boisterous laughter behind him.
Curious, he turned around and saw Helga walk out of a coffee shop, a large cup filled to the brim with whipped cream and chocolate sauce set securely in her hand. She looked happy for the most part, and was yelling to someone inside.
"Thanks, Jack! I'll miss all the wonderful drinks you've prepared for me!" She started walking away from Arnold, not even noticing his wide eyes taking in this completely different side of her personality. She...was...smiling! She was in a dress! And...what was this? It sounded like she was...humming? He wanted to yell for her, get her to stop in her tracks and find out just how much she had changed. But he couldn't function, couldn't move, couldn't process this very altered girl...who was walking further and further away from him.
He stood there, watching her silhouette disappear in the horizon, before he realized the opportunity he had just missed. "Well, I guess I don't have to worry anymore." He continued on his way, wondering what had happened to make her happier. "Maybe Phoebe finally got a hold of her...yeah, that's probably it."
But over the next couple of days, he didn't see Helga. She didn't show up in any of their classes together, he didn't see her in passing periods. "Where is she?" To ease his worry he began to come up with reasons why she wasn't coming to school. Maybe she was sick, maybe she went to visit family. Maybe she took some time off to scope out her school of choice.
After a week of no Helga, he finally decided to get back in touch with Phoebe. He left a message for her, trying really hard not to sound panicked...why should he be panicked? She was probably fine, there was no reason to throw things out of proportion! But by day nine with no Helga, and no word from Phoebe he began to get even more worried. He decided to corner Phoebe during break. He caught a glimpse of her small frame walking rather fast away from the crowded cafeteria.
"Phoebe! Hey! Pheebs!" He picked up his pace, yelling for her the entire time but either she didn't hear him or...no, no, she couldn't be avoiding him...right? It was loud, maybe he couldn't be heard over the throngs of excited teenagers discussing graduation...graduation? That's right! School was ending in just a few short weeks! One month left! How could Helga miss two weeks of school when everything was being wrapped up! There had to be something wrong...
His thoughts in a panic, Arnold began to run towards Phoebe all the while calling out to her. She finally stopped just before she reached a set of doors leading to the front of the school. But she didn't turn around to face him. Her body was quivering slightly, and her hair was hanging free from it's usual elegant bun. He slowed down and cautiously came around so that he could face her.
"She left..." It was barely a whisper, so soft Arnold wasn't entirely sure that he heard her at all.
"I'm sorry...what...? I don't understand."
"She's gone, Arnold. She left...I got a goodbye note...A NOTE...she didn't even want to say anything to me in person...that's my fault, I wasn't there...I didn't..." Phoebe began to shake more visibly and her hands came up to her face to wipe away her tears.
"I'm sorry, I still don't understand. How could she leave? School isn't even finished yet! I don't get it."
"Arnold, please...I..." Arnold quickly wrapped his arms around his friend, berating himself for not trying to comfort her in the first place. He could ask questions later, right now Phoebe needed him. Her trembling had finally ceased after a few minutes but her eyes were red and puffy.
"Hey, you wanna get out of here? I don't have anything important for the rest of the day."
"Yes..." She hiccuped softly, and her face took on a light shed of red. "Yes, that would be ideal..."
Arnold took Phoebe's hand in his and led her away from the school. He was thankful that there was no need for security to keep the students locked in. He didn't make it a habit of ditching classes, and he knew for a fact Phoebe had never missed a class. They walked with their hands interlocked for a few more blocks before he realized that maybe he was making her uncomfortable. But when he felt her hand squeeze his he knew that there was no need for him to worry further. He led her into their favorite childhood hang out, Slausens, and ordered her a hot fudge sundae with extra cherries. He got a simple vanilla milkshake for himself, and sipped it slowly waiting for Phoebe to begin.
She played with her sundae for the first few minutes, her eyes staring down at the table, before finally taking a bite. After she took a deep breath, her eyes finally raised up to meet Arnold's. The redness had slightly subsided but it was still clear that moments ago tears had brimmed to the edges of her eyes.
"Start from the beginning...take as much time as you need..."
She remained silent for several more minutes but never broke eye contact from him. Whenever he thought back on it, he felt a tinge of pride that he never wavered from her intense gaze.
"I'm ashamed, Arnold. I didn't even notice until I got your message...she had mailed me a note, didn't even come by the house...She left two weeks ago. I'm not sure where to, but apparently she made arrangements with all her teachers. Because it was so close to graduation...the school...she was doing so well...that they let her leave early. She's not even going to come for the ceremony...she probably wouldn't have come to prom anyway." Phoebe trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper. She was fighting tears again, he could hear it in her voice, how it strained to remain steady.
"You noticed, Arnold. You knew the first day she didn't come to school. And we never even got the chance to discuss...well, discuss her." She looked away suddenly but her eyes jerked back to meet his will full force, her voice pleading, "Did you get the opportunity to speak with her? Did she say anything to you before she left?"
Arnold couldn't bring himself to speak. His eyes were calm, his face masking the hurt he felt as well as the anger. How could she do this to her? She was supposed to be her best friend? I don't understand!
"No. We never spoke. I got so busy...I did see her. The other day...she looked so different, Phoebe. She wasn't the Helga we knew. She was laughing, humming...wearing this beautiful pink dress. I thought that, I dunno, maybe you guys had finally reconnected. I thought she was happy so I didn't suspect that anything was wrong. I didn't think that she had planned on leaving so soon."
"You saw her? What did she say?"
"She wasn't speaking to me...I guess she was talking to the cafe guy. She was thanking him for the drink he had made for her." He paused, thinking back on those last few seconds of seeing Helga. Was there a detail he had missed? "What did her note say?"
Phoebe froze at his question. But after a few seconds, she pulled the note from her jean pocket. It had been folded over onto itself several times, its edges worn from continuous use. She placed it on the table and slid it towards his hands. He picked it up almost eagerly but when he opened it up he was shocked at how short it was.
Pheebs, Thanks for being my friend. I know we've drifted apart, we don't see or talk to each other anymore. Which I guess is mostly my fault. Anyway, I appreciate all that we had together. You were the best friend a girl could have. Can you believe it! My grades are so good, they said I could leave early if I needed to! Anyway, I'll contact you some time. Don't forget me, yea? Helga
Arnold folded the note back up. He held onto it for a few seconds before he met Phoebe's eyes. "This...this is all that she had to say to you?"
"As she stated, we haven't spoken much in years. I suppose I'm lucky to at least get a note."
Shaking his head in anger, he quickly retorted, "No! That's not any excuse! You guys were the best of friends!"
"As were you and Gerald..." she whispered. Arnold's anger quickly melted at the name of his former best friend.
"That...that was different! He moved to a different part of the city! You and Helga could have seen each other every day if you wanted to!" Arnold clamped a hand over his mouth once the words he spoke sunk in. "I'm sorry, Phoebe. That's not what I meant. I guess I just don't know how to take any of this. I never would have expected the two of you to end up this way."
Phoebe hadn't flinched at his words. She seemed almost passive, just sitting there watching Arnold twitch nervously beneath her gaze. "Yes. I don't blame you. I can only look at how I've treated my friendship with her these past few years. She's never had it easy. I understood her better than anyone. Arnold, I wasn't just her best friend. I was her only friend! What must she have felt when I completely forgot about her? I have no way of contacting her...she didn't leave me a phone number, an address. I don't even know how she's going to support herself. I can't believe I didn't see this coming." More tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, but they teetered on the edge, refusing to give in to gravities will.
The two friends sat in silence, each working over their own feelings. They eventually remembered the comfort foods in front of them and began to slurp up the melted ice cream. When they had finished, Arnold stood up and extended his hand to the petite girl. She smiled before placing her hand in his. They walked out just as the sun was setting for the day, the last few rays of sunshine extending over the tall buildings.
Phoebe stopped in her tracks and turned her head down the street.
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing...I was just thinking that if I concentrate hard enough, I could figure out where she went, ya know? I don't even know what college she was accepted to...Arnold?"
"Yeah?"
"Take me home."
"Sure."