Here's a little oneshot for y'all. Why is it not with my other oneshots, you ask? Because the idea's not mine… and for some reason, I feel like I shouldn't post this in my collection. (shrug) So, the idea was presented to me by Inuyasha-Loves-Kagome. The story itself was written by me.

Arnold lay on his back, staring blankly through the skylight where thin wisps of clouds hovered lazily over the spring sun. His bed was littered with papers and photos—memories of time spent with one of his dearest friends, Helga Geraldine Pataki.

When had they even become so close? Time so often separates old friends, but it had managed to do just the counter with Arnold and Helga. The girl with the pink bow and sour disposition had all too easily taken Gerald's place as Arnold's coconspirator, wingman (or perhaps wing-girl would be more appropriate), and simply, best friend. She was brilliant; there was no scheme she couldn't bring to realization. She had done so much for him, had brought him through such tough times, and had shared laughs with him through it all. And in all honesty, he found that he—…

Arnold picked a photo off of his stomach, eyes softening at its image. The photo showed Helga pinning him down, grinning triumphantly at the camera. Something in his stomach turned.

…—yes… He loved her.

He was deeply, thoroughly, head-over-heels in love… and sitting around, staring at pictures wouldn't solve anything. Arnold hopped to his feet, sending papers falling to the floor.

x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x

Helga took a deep breath, and dove in, savoring her sudden weightlessness. She reached the pools wall, somersaulted, and kicked off. All thought simply washed away when she swam; it had to. After all, it was impossible to fly when weighted down with pointless, overly self-dramatized problems.

She pulled herself out of the pool left for the locker room. Although she wasn't quite ready to go home, home was the only place left to go. She changed into shorts and a tee and slicked her hair back into a ponytail. Time to see if Miriam had remembered to make lunch! Fun!

x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x

Helga came to an alley, then paused, pushing herself against a wall so that she would remain unseen by those in the alley. Arnold. He was standing with his usual crowd—Harold, Sid, Stinky, and Gerald.

Why am I hiding? her mind reprimanded. I've known these guys practically my entire life!

But then… she heard her name. They were talking about her. Arnold was talking about her. Helga took small, shallow breaths as she attempted to catch their whispery words.

"What if… Hilarious… Never thought... You should…"

She couldn't make out so much as a single complete sentence, but it was obvious that those boys were plotting something, and that something involved her. But would Arnold really turn against her? They were friends, were they not? She had suppressed her romantic desires in exchange for a friendship that rivaled that of her and Phoebe's. Had she misplaced her trust? No… This was Arnold. She must have misheard something. Chances were, she still had water in her ears, or something alone those lines.

But the doubt remained, ever-present in the far corners of her mind.

Besides, it was hardly a good day to let her guard down.

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Arnold had circled his neighborhood for the better part of an hour. He had told his friends; of course he had told his friends. They had laughed, rolled their eyes, and slapped his back, proclaiming that it was "about time".

He wanted to take her someplace, but couldn't quite afford to. Besides, what if it felt too planned? Did those perfectly calculated confessions ever end as imagined? And was this the best day to let his emotions take the wheel? No… but he had to tell her—to just walk up to her and flat out spill his heart.

Arnold turned on his heels and took off down the street, knowing where he had to go.

x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x

Thump! … Thump! … Thump!

Helga grabbed for the TV control, turning down the volume.

Thump!

Something was hitting the front door… An animal? She stood up, cautiously tip-toeing to the door.

x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," muttered Arnold again and again. He had made his way to the Pataki porch, but couldn't find the strength to so much as ring the bell. So, he had sat down… and spent the last minute or so banging his head against the door—punishment for his obvious stupidity.

Suddenly, there was a strange lack of a door behind him. The boy found himself laying on his back, head on the carpet of the Pataki living room, staring up at Helga.

"Ar…Arnold!" gasped the girl, who stepped back in surprise. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, and finally walked outside, closing the door behind her. "Any particular reason you're chipping the paint on my front door?" She smiled, plopping down next to him. And then she saw his eyes, the way he looked at her…

Those eyes, they lied so beautifully.

"Helga…" He dropped his gaze.

Guilt? Was perfect little Arnold having a guilt-trip? It was likely his first. Helga's hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms.

"Do you know that feeling," he continued, "when… when you just know that something's right, but you don't know how to… how to make it be?"

What had given her away? Why was he doing this? Had she smiled once too often, stood too close, what? Arnold had always been so blind to these things, and even if he did realize that her feelings had never faded, why would he suddenly feel the need to torture her?

"I mean… I—I just… It's hard to say. You're really amazing, you know? Everything… You've always been there. Always. You're important to me."

The others. Gerald, Stinky—them. There was no other explanation. They had finally dragged sweet Arnold under. They had convinced him that she was below their little clique, that a joke held a higher rank than her heart. Her beloved Arnold, her dear friend, was gone… and he could not be saved. But… as gone as he may have been, he was still about to say something… something she had always hoped to hear. And she would make damn sure he said it too. "Spit it out already," she hissed. Helga hadn't meant to use those words, to sound so harsh… at least not yet.

Arnold looked up, slightly taken aback, but that was just Helga being Helga, wasn't it? "Helga, I love you." His smile, any other day, would have melted Helga's heart.

Had Arnold always been this emotionally manipulative? To her discomfort, Helga found the answer to be yes. Even if he didn't mean to, Arnold could coerce those close to him (even strangers, for that matter) to fall in line behind him, and follow him willingly and without thought. And this time, Arnold was maliciously tearing away at her heart. His voice had been so… true. But despite the soft fluttering of her insides, Helga could still see through that 'truth'. And as much as she had wanted to hear those words, anger slowly crept over her, filling the spaces once occupied by love and doubt.

"Do you think that's funny or something?" Her voice was tiny, and strangely flat.

"W-what?" Arnold suddenly went numb. A coppery taste formed in the back of his throat.

"Yeah, ha-ha! Hilarious! Where are they? Around the corner? Are you bugged?" She got to her feet, eyes flicking between all possible hiding places. "Well…" Well, do you know that you're hurting me? Do you care? There's no coming back from this, Arnold… You know how I feel about you. You have to. And this is what you do? Thanks. Thanks for caring.

Arnold, suddenly feeling very small, followed Helga's lead and stood up.

Then, she turned towards Arnold, smiling. "I'm kidding. I believe you." The smile had spread to her voice, in a manner abnormally warm for her.

Arnold closed his eyes. She was kidding, of course she was kidding. He had let himself forget the day, for a moment, at least. How silly of him, that slip of the mind had been. Everything would work out.

But it wouldn't… it couldn't. Something in Helga's voice, in her eyes… something… In mid-thought, Arnold realized that two hands had been shoved into his chest, that those hands had pushed him off of the stoop, and that a muddy flower bed was a none-too-pleasant place to be.

"A happy April Fool's Day to you too, Lover." Helga stepped briskly into her house and slammed the door pointedly. Yes, a very happy April Fool's Day, indeed.

Eee! I was going to go in a different direction with this, but then I realized that it was April Fool's Day… and had to write it this way… Hope you enjoyed!