Author's Note: This is my first fanfic, so I'm still getting the hang of it. Please be gentle. :) I absolutely love Hey Arnold! Probably one of the best shows ever (at least in my opinion). I've recently started watching the series again, and I can't help but squeal and smile like a dork whenever an "Arnold and Helga" moment comes up. I'm always rooting for Helga-she's my favorite character, aside from Arnold. I can relate to her somewhat (I mean, who wouldn't have a crush on Arnold?).

Hey Arnold! belongs to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon and not me...sadly. If I did own it, we'd have TJM already.

-Chapter One-

Helga was in a bad mood. Sure, she usually wore her signature scowl on her face, but today she was feeling extra bitter.

"Our darling angel is finally coming to visit today!" Miriam rejoiced during breakfast.

On most days, Miriam was usually unconscious and lying on the kitchen counter, clutching her precious blender in her arms. Drinking too many "smoothies" tends to have that effect on you. But today she was vibrant and cheerful. Helga scowled and took a big bite of her banana. Olga, Helga's perfect sister, was taking a vacation to come visit her family in Hillwood. Helga's face twisted in disgust as she remembered the day she heard the news. Helga arrived home from school, expecting the house to be quiet and empty as it usually was. Bob was usually at work during this time and Miriam would be knocked out somewhere in the house. She was surprised to hear both Bob and Miriam on the phone, sounding excited. An all too familiar, sickly sweet voice came out of the speaker.

"Oh Daddy! Mommy! I can't wait to see you all next week! Especially my baby sister." The whole week, all Helga ever heard was "Olga this" and "Olga that."

"We gotta pick her up from the airport in about an hour!" Big Bob yelled as he walked towards the door. "Hurry up little lady!"

"Coming, Dad," Helga grumbled. She quickly grabbed her pink iPod and drowned herself in music as they drove to the airport.

"Helga! My baby sister! Oh, how I missed you so much!"

She let go of her embrace and examined the blonde teenager. Helga was wearing a dark pink shirt, white shorts, and a pair of Converse shoes. She still kept her hair in two pigtails, but outgrew the bow in middle school.

"You look exactly how I remembered except you're taller now."

Helga grunted in reply.

"Oh, baby sister, I'm so excited to bond with you and do all sorts of fun things sisters do! We'll go shopping, paint each other's toenails, share our secrets over banana split at Slausen's…"

By this time, Helga had drowned Olga out. She wasn't feeling the same excitement as her older sister. Well, that's because—she hated Olga. She was her parent's pride and joy. After all, not anyone could win all the spelling bee competitions in the state and play the "Minute Waltz" in exactly sixty seconds flat. On the other hand, they couldn't even remember Helga's name. Helga wondered sometimes if her being born was a mistake. It sure felt like they didn't want her around.

"You must be tired from that long flight, sweetie. Why don't you go upstairs and get some rest?" Miriam said.

"Hey, Olga. Why don't you help out your sister and bring her luggage up to her room?" Big Bob grunted.

"It's HELGA, Dad."

"That's what I said. Olga."

Helga hoisted the luggage and grumbled up the stairs. This was going to be a long week.

After several hours of putting up with Olga sharing stories of teaching underprivileged children in poor neighborhoods, playing the piano in high society balls and charity events, and just about any other "no less than exemplary" accomplishment, Helga excused herself from the table and sought the refuge of her room. She slammed her door shut, leaned against it, and sunk to the wood-paneled floor.

"I can't stand that Olga. Why does she have to be so perfect all the time? Big Bob and Miriam just adore her, yet they barely pay any attention to me. They always say I should act more like her. It's her fault for being so smart and kind and talented. I'm just mean and ugly. Nobody likes me. The worst part is that she wants to get closer to me. Can't she see that she irritates me?"

Helga rose up and turned on her stereo. Her Three Day's Grace CD was playing and she blasted the volume.

I could be mean. I could be angry

You know I could be just like you.

I could be fake. I could be stupid.

You know I could be just like you.

You thought you were standing beside me.

You were only in my way. You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you.

Helga scoffed at how the song was so appropriate for the setting. Except, Olga wasn't mean and stupid. She was the opposite, always happy and optimistic. It's like she lived in her own fantasy world. She could never see the bad things going around her, and that's what Helga hated the most. Whenever she was upset, Helga would pour her heart out on paper by writing poetry. Usually they centered on a certain flaxen-haired boy. That lifted her spirits and changed her attitude from that of anger to longing. Amidst her messed-up and dysfunctional life, Arnold was the only thing that made her genuinely happy. She pushed aside her closet doors and entered. After searching for the light switch, she immediately picked up a pink notebook and flipped through the pages. Helga had long outgrown keeping a shrine of Arnold in her closet, taking into consideration that that kind of behavior was borderline stalker. That, and her parents started noticing that random objects in the house were missing from time to time. About time—she had been building shrines ever since she was a little kid. However, a large collage of her pictures of Arnold was pasted on the wall.

"Oh my beloved. How I yearn for the day when I finally have the courage to tell you the innermost feelings of my heart! How I've always loved you the moment I saw your football head. How I want to drown into those dreamy emerald eyes, full of goodwill and compassion. I long for the day when you and I runaway to a place, far away from here, where we can love freely without any troubles or cares."

"Yeah, that'll be the day," Helga sighed dejectedly as she shut the book.

She looked at her alarm clock. It was 10:00 PM and she was tired. She got under the covers and stared at her ceiling fan.

"It's only a week. You can do this Helga."