It's Too Late for That...
Note: This is not my usual genre, but Olivia forced me into it. She kept on reading Hey Arnold! romance fics and babbling about them. The whole group got into a great big argument about true love. I would like to state my views, but that would kind of give away the plot, now wouldn't it? This story takes place right before Helga's wedding.
Disclaimer: The only character that belongs to me is Tom. Go ahead and use him if you want, his last name is the German equivalent of 'Anyman.'
One hour left. One hour left before Helga would be walking down the aisle with... Tom. Her childhood dreams were finally coming true. Okay, so not exactly true. There was a slight change in cast, and while she loved Tom very much, it still didn't seem right for this moment to happen without Arnold.
Oh, he was here, along with a few of her other high school friends. He had been among the first to express his good wishes for the happy couple, and judging by the size of his wedding present had spent a good deal of money on them. It just wasn't the same, though.
Helga sat in an eye of calm, surrounded by the whirling hurricane that was the preparations for the wedding. Last minute tweaks of gowns and tuxes, racing voices and racing hearts, and above all the never-ending activity of the two men that she loved most: Tom and Arnold.
The time came. All went according to plan, except Helga's fantasy of Arnold standing up when the priest said, "Speak now or forever hold your peace." The wedding was beautiful, the reception was wonderful, and now Helga sat on her bed opening the presents from her friends. Tom had agreed with her in that they should open their presents separately; undoubtedly he had his reasons, although Helga had no idea what they were. Phoebe, Gerald, Lila, Brainy – and finally, the large package from Arnold.
She almost didn't open it. It was too frightening: such a big package, and she didn't know what was in it. Finally she stiffened her resolve and ripped the box open. There was another box inside. She ripped that open. There was another. And another. And another. And another. Until finally she came to a tiny box covered in royal blue velvet, and carefully lifted the cover.
There, wrapped in packing material, was a gold locket. It was heart shaped, and it held her picture.
Helga Mann lay back on her bed and cried.