Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold.

Summary: After waking up to a bizarre series of events, Helga finds herself back in Hillwood, after a 3 year absence, and just in time for her senior year of high school. But maybe a particular, lovable, football headed guy can make her return worthwhile. Oh, if things were only that simple, and with Helga and Arnold, they never are.

A/N: Hello everybody. This is a little something new that I've been working on. In the midst of writing "Clean" I've really felt like dabbling in an Arnold/Helga comedy. Something to balance me. I've never written something light hearted before! This might be a little off the wall but, bear with me, I strive to be…unique.

HOUSE KEEPING: So this story is going to be rated 'T.' There may be some mature content in a later chapter or two, and if there is the top of the chapter will be clearly marked.

Say it Ain't So

Helga Pataki had never considered herself a particularly lazy individual. Typically, she liked to keep herself moderately busy all of the time, whether with friends, with school, or her job. High school was a real drag, but an obvious and necessary evil. She wasn't about to 'flip burgers' the rest of her life…or whatever the common phrase was.

It was the last hoorah of summer vacation, and she made sure she enjoyed every drop of it. This included, sleeping in like a bum on almost every morning. And why not? She'd be back to dragging herself out of bed at 6:00a.m before she knew it. The now 17-year-old was preparing to enter into her senior year of high school. The last leg, and what a relief!

Hillwood was now only a distant memory. Bob had decided to move the family to Virginia, about an hour outside of Richmond the summer after Helga's 8th grade year. She had been delighted with the move, embracing it with vigor (which sort of weirded out her parents initially). She had her reasons though, and 99.9 percent of them involved a certain green eyed, corn flower haired boy.

After elementary school, she'd left him alone for the most part, content with observing him from afar instead of bullying him like she had been doing. What was that called? Being passive aggressive? Reserved? Oh, who cared!

She lurked. How about that?

And just to be clear, not in a creepy way either.

Anyway, they each had their own groups and their paths only ever crossed at the corner of Phoebe and Gerald street. By the time 8th grade rolled around she was sick to death of the whole ordeal. Just sick of it. Mostly because it occurred to her one day, that she really hadn't any interest in him anymore. And it wasn't because somebody else had sparked her fancy either, rather, a 13 year old could only take so much unreciprocated… ugh, obsession before going on with life.

Eight years was enough. She could move on from that.

Sure.

The thing was, instead of just moving on, she found herself becoming downright resentful about wasting her youth pinning over him. Okay, yes, she knew the term 'wasted youth' sounded ridiculous, especially for someone her age, but she did feel like a large portion of her childhood could have been better spent doing…you know…un-Arnold related things.

So, needless to say, when Bob came home announcing they were moving her first thought was: 'How soon?!'

Phoebe had been downright inconsolable when she had broken the news to her, so much so that Helga had been utterly convinced that her best friend would come bounding out of one of their moving boxes when they unpacked. Thankfully, she didn't, and surprisingly, the pair hadn't lost contact, like they'd feared, chatting on a near weekly bases via email, text, phone, and the works. Phoebe had come out and spent a couple weeks with her during the summer of sophomore year and Helga always visited when they flew in on the holidays to see Olga and her husband.

Yes, for the most part Helga loved living in Virginia; she loved her new school and most of all she loved not having to see Arnold's face every day. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. And that was her life. Easy going.

So she thought.

It had been, for all intents and purposes, a pretty average Wednesday morning in the Pataki residence. So Helga guessed. She was, as they call it, 'dead to the world,' sprawled out in the sheets of her bed. The sudden banging and booming of her father's voice forcefully yanked her from her nocturnal bliss. She bolted upright; scaring the Jack Russell nestled at the foot of her bed.

"Huh, wha? What?!"

"Helga!" Bob barked, "I said get your butt up and down stairs!"

With a groan, she flopped back down on her pillows, "Why?!" She demanded.

"Hey, don't ask questions young lady, just get your butt down here now!" He banged on the door again.

Helga growled, rubbing her sleepy eyes, "Fine!"

With that, she heard his thunderous footsteps plow back down the stairs. What the hell could he possibly want at…whatever time it was in the morning? She glanced at her clock on the bedside. It was 9:15! Kicking the sheets off of her body, she flung her legs over the bed and got up.

Angrily, she swung open the door and stomped downstairs.

"Dad, I swear, if this is about some new phone I'll…" She trailed off, walking into the kitchen wondering why there were papers everywhere, and why both of her parents were flying around the room like chickens with their heads cut off.

"Not now Olga…" Bob mumbled, as he leafed through a handful of parchment before shoving them into a duffle bag nearby.

"Helga," She corrected, distractedly, more interested in everything happening around her.

Bob pushed past her with the duffle bag that he had just shoved a wad of paper into and stormed into the dining room. She heard the dining table scraping across the wooden floors that blanketed the room. That terrible screeching noise of fresh scratches being dug in. She skipped to the doorway to see her father, on his knees feeling on the floor where the table used to sit.

It was official; her parents had finally gone loony.

"Dad! What the heck are you doing?" Helga implored.

"Quiet…I'm trying to…" He trailed off, continuing to feel around on the floor.

Helga watched as he dislodged a board with his fingernail and lifted up an entire square section of their hardwood flooring. After he removed the floor, he pulled open a black door and peered inside.

"Okay, why is there a compartment in our floor?!"

Bob reached his burly paws into the hole and pulled out a stack of fresh green cash.

"Okay! Okay! Bob, why is there money in a compartment in our floor?!" She exasperated more frantically.

Bob shoved them into the duffel bag, and reached back into the hole for another handful of money stacks. He did this quickly and then shoved past Helga with the duffel bag.

"We've got to get out of here. Go pack your things!" He explained.

Helga gaped, wide eyed in bewilderment. "What do you mean 'we've got to get out of here?' What is going on?!"

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Miriam shrieked, "You fathers been laundering money through his business!"

Helga could only blink in horror, "Shit Dad!"

"Hey! Watch your language little lady!" The husky grey headed man scolded.

"You're worried about my language?! You're laundering money!" Helga shouted, shaking her hands back and forth, emphasizing her point.

Bob and Miriam ignored their youngest daughter, continuing to sort and shove papers into briefcases and duffle bags.

"Oh good Lord…" Helga mumbled, leaning against the wall and pinching the bridge of her nose. "We're criminals…"

"Hey!" Bob boomed, "Why aren't you packing? We're leaving!"

The bewildered 17 year old shot him an are-you-kidding-me look, "Where are we going?! To jail?!"

Miriam rolled her eyes, "We're leaving the country."

Helga's mouth fell unhinged, "Leaving the—Leaving the country? To go where?!"

"We're moving to Guam." Bob replied, continuing his quest to shove paper into duffle bags.

"Where the heck is Guam?!"

Bob paused, his brow furrowing, "Its…you know…it's out there with—Why aren't you packing?!" He barked in frustration.

"Because I can't go to Guam, that's why!"

"Well you don't have much choice. The police are going to be closing in to arrest me and your mother soon and we've got to get the hell out of dodge!" He pointed away…presumably to 'Dodge.'

Helga opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it, rethinking her father's speech. "Wait…mom too?"

Bob rolled his eyes, "As my beautiful and dashing accomplice!"

"Oh, B!" Miriam blushed and fluttered her eyes.

Helga shuddered in disgust, "Ugh! That's just…no!"

"Go! Get! Packed!"

"Dad!" She yelled back, "I cannot move to Guam! I refuse," She crossed her arms defiantly.

Bob growled in frustration. "Fine! Suit yourself!" He angrily shoved more parchment into the bags.

A few feet away, Miriam paused and glanced at her husband, a look of appall masking her features, "Bob! We can't leave her!"

Bob stopped shoveling paper and gave his wife the closest thing to shame that he was capable of.

"She might rat us out." Miriam continued.

Helga choked, "What?!"

Both Bob and Miriam looked at each other before both turning back to look at Helga in creepy unison. You know, that look that you see in zombie movies, when the survivors realize that there's one among them that's been bitten. Yeah that one, and Helga instinctively took a step back from them; not knowing what those people were capable of.

"Do you really think she'll squeal?"

"I mean, we haven't been the most attentive parents…"

Helga dropped her arms, mouth falling agape, "Oh. My. God. Really?! Like I don't have better things to do?" She motioned to herself, "Or standards…"

Bob thinned his eyes at her and crossed his burly arms over his chest, "And just where do you think you'll stay if we do leave you?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes for the millionth time, "I don't know Bob. I guess I'll stay somewhere."

"You better not go talking…"

Helga dropped her head into her hand, completely exacerbated with the entire situation, laughing cynically as it was. Her parents had tuned out her presences when she didn't respond back immediately, once again focusing all their attention on the mountains of parchment around the kitchen.

"You know, I don't know which is worse," She began after some time, "The fact that you wanted to drag me to Guam or that you're actually agreeing to leave me here."

"Well make up your mind already, you're either coming or you're staying," Bob replied, not paying an ounce of attention.

Helga's brows furrowed, "What? I've been staying the entire time!"

Before she could wait for another half-attentioned response, the residential kitchen phone began ringing and a sudden silence engulfed the bustling room. Miriam temporarily abandoned her papers, setting the bag down on the counter, grabbing for the cordless receiver and squinting through her square spectacles at the screen.

"It's Olga!" She panicked.

"Don't answer it!" Her husband waved his hands in a 'no-good' fashion. God he watched too many sports. Miriam sat the phone down on the counter and retreated away, as if it would bite her.

"Does she know?" Helga pointed at the phone.

"Of course not! Are you crazy? The phone would be ringing off the hook!" Bob rolled his eyes.

Helga skipped across the kitchen and snapped the receiver off the counter with her parent looking on in sheer horror.

"No, no, no, no—"

She pressed the green button, bringing the phone to her ear, while narrowing her eyes at her them. "Hey sis, I'll call you back. I'm knee deep in some laundering—I mean laundry. Mmkay bye!" She said with fake sweetness and hung up.

"You guys better tell her." Helga threatened with her index finger.

"We were planning to on the plane." Her mother confessed.

"Is that everything?" Bob asked.

Miriam nodded, looking around the kitchen for any stray paper, "Should be."

Suddenly there was the sound of a car horn beeping three times. Helga spun around and peered through the window that overlooked their front lawn to see a taxi van waiting by the curb. "Oh, uh, apparently your chariot is here. Your chariot of escape. Criminals fleeing via taxi…how original."

Upon turning around, her parents were nowhere to be found, "Dammit…" Her face fell as she swore.

She hustled out of the kitchen into the living room to find them with arms full of bags and suitcases clamoring out the front door.

She panicked.

"Whoa, whoa wait!" She ran out the front door after them, "How long are you guys going to be gone?"

"Forever!" Her father yelled over his shoulder.

"We love you!" Miriam yelled back, "But you better not squeal!"

Helga stood on the porch, dumb struck for the first time since she'd walked into the kitchen. She watched them cram all of their bags into the taxi van and then climb in themselves. Seconds later the taxi pulled away from their curb and squealed tires down the street.

Oh, was that really necessary? Really? Really? How dramatic.

And then it was quiet. Her dog Zeus came skipping out the front door and sat down on the top porch step. Helga peered down at him and slunk down to sit on the step herself, reaching out and scratching him behind the ears as the gravity of the situation began to firmly take root.

It felt like hours that she sat there, though she truly had no idea how long it had been. Probably minutes for all she knew.

She'd always prayed that Bob and Miriam would disappear but this was ridonkulous.

Her parents were criminals, who were fleeing the country and had left their 17 year old daughter with the house to herself.

A single brow perked.

Her parents…were fleeing the country…and leaving her…alone.

That brow crept further up her forehead.

Parents: Gone. Helga: Alone.

That brow became her second hairline.

Umm…winning!

She jumped up, "Holy-there is a God! I knew it!" She exclaimed and skipped into the house, "C'mon, in you go Zues," The small dog trotted in before her.

"This is going to be…amazing," She said to herself before running upstairs to shower.

About an hour later, she came down, casually dressed and with a huge smile plastered to her face, skipping to the living room stereo and cranking up the music. With it loud enough to hear on the other side of the neighborhood, she air-guitar rocked it into the kitchen to rustle up some grub, which ended up being a blueberry nutra-grain bar.

She could dig it.

Trashing the wrapper, the poked out into the garage, smacking the button to open the doors. Zeus ran out behind her grabbing a tennis ball laying in the corner and throwing it around. There was an old refrigerator in the left corner, full of the Beep—er The Laundering King's weekend brew and the occasional left over whenever Miria—'the dashing accomplish' decided to actually cook something. In retrospect, perhaps she wasn't so lazy after all, just preoccupied with the Pataki crime family.

Sheesh.

Helga cracked open the fridge door, hoping to score a root beer soda or at the very least a yahoo soda with some rooting.

Beer. Beer. And more beer.

What a surprise.

Oh, but wait, there was a yahoo at the very back, hiding behind beverages that claimed to be the kings a beer, which she shoved aside to grab the aforementioned chocolaty drink.

Right as she popped the top, her phone began buzzing and she sat the can on the fridge to fish the device from her pocket. "Olga…" She sighed before begrudgingly answering it, "Hello."

"Helga! Oh! My! Gosh!" Olga sobbed.

Helga rolled her eyes, "Hey Olga."

"I-I-I'm so confused right now. Mom and Daddy are…are…I can't even say it! It's too horrible!"

"Criminals."

Olga shrieked so loudly that Helga had to hold the phone away to prevent possible ear damage, all the while mentally envisioning her sister dressed as Scarlett O'Hara, draped over an antique fainting couch with her arm theatrically covering her eyes.

She inwardly snorted. Over dramatic that one.

"Did they…say where they were going?" Her sister finally blubbered.

"Um…Guam."

"Are you still home?"

"Yep, still where they left me. Just…hanging out," Helga had wandered out of the garage and had begun pacing around her parents vehicles.

Olga sniffed, "Okay, well I'll get you a plane ticket out here then."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Helga came to a halt, "You want me to come to Hillwood?"

"Of course. You can't stay by yourself."

"I'm 17 years old. I'm sure that I can manage."

"I don't think so. You're coming out here, until we can figure this thing out, or mom and daddy come to their senses," Olga began sobbing again, prompting an eye roll out of Helga.

"Olga, I can't just drop everything and move. School starts in like…two weeks!" She reasoned, but it felt more like a beg.

"Baby sister, we are victims here, we have to stick together."

"And we can…in our respective parts of the country."

"Why do you have to make this difficult?"

"I'm not trying to."

"Then you're saying yes to the ticket."

Helga paused momentarily, before, in pure aggravation, she spun around and kicked Bob's SUV with her foot as hard as she could.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" Helga said through clenched teeth, hopping away, surprised at just how badly that had hurt her foot. "Zues flipped over the trash can," She collapsed to the ground and began nursing her tennis shoe.

"Oh."

"Fine, I'll come, but I'm not flying. I'm going to drive."

"What?! You can't drive! It's almost 2000 miles!"

"Can I have one thing my way? If I've got to live out there, again, then I want to bring all of my stuff."

"But—"

"-Olga!"

"Oh, all right. Will you leave today?"

"Can I leave tomorrow? I need to rest…I'm just super torn up about everything, you know," Not really, but maybe the fake despair would buy her the rest of the day.

Olga sniffed, "Oh, me too. I'm…just in so much shock."

"Mmhmm."

"I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

"All right, cool."

"Bye."

"Bye," Helga hung up and fell back on the concrete, staring up at the blue, mid-morning sky, briefly thinking about how strange it probably looked, but not really caring. With a groan, she rubbed her eyes with her palms.

She didn't want to go back to Hillwood. Period. She liked her new town, she liked her new school, she liked her new friends, and she liked her new life. What were the odds that her parents would royally screw something good for her?

Ugh! Apparently pretty freakin' high if your last name began with a P and ended with –ataki.

Also, why, why, why did she have to have an older sister? Who, coincidentally enough, was the most responsible person on earth, and would most certainly be flying out there to drag Helga to Hillwood herself if Helga didn't transport her person there in a timely fashion. That much was for sure.

She sighed in defeat and after lying there a little longer; she pulled her phone to her face, selected a familiar number and held it to her ear.

"Pheebs-yes I know that it's early. Never mind, you're going to shit a brick…"

A/N: Well, that's the first chapter. I'm sorry if it seemed to move really fast. I kind of wanted to jump right into the story. I didn't want to bore the reader with copious amounts of background information either. Please read and review!