Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett and company. I do not earn any profits from this story.
Summary: Helga was a cracked shell, long before Arnold came along.
Author's Note: This story underwent a complete makeover. If anyone had read the first two chapters, you might want to re-read the revised versions. Hope you enjoy. Also, welcome to anybody just now reading this story for the first time.
Bitter
Chapter One: Say Goodbye to Girlhood
Helga stared despondently at her computer screen, toiling over the manuscript that was due in less than ten days. The scholarship committee wanted it to at least be seventeen-thousand words, summing up the entirety of her high-school experience. When Helga first took on this assignment, she thought she had it all down pat. What she hadn't counted on, was that others would be reading her story and making judgments of her life. If she had been any other girl, the kind that didn't skip class to hang with boys, the kind that always did her parents proud, she wouldn't be in this dilemma. She could revisit her memories unashamed, and not have to fear the skeletons lying up in her closet.
Sighing dolefully, Helga began to close her laptop, when a sudden creaking of her door alerted her. Swiveling around in her chair, Helga groaned inwardly at the sight of the auburn-haired girl.
"Lila, I thought I said not to bug me."
Lila, chipper as always strolled into the room, balancing a plate covered with aluminum foil in her upraised palm.
"I know, but you have worked so hard. I thought I'd bring you some homemade chocolate-chip cookies to cheer you up."
Could she be anymore Stepford? Helga thought irritably.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't eat sweets anymore!" Reaching over she swiped the plate from Lila and greedily tore through the aluminum.
Lila smiled pleased with herself, watching as Helga scarfed down all the cookies, and even went as far as to lick the crumbs off the plate. Lila's been hanging out with the girl long enough to know how her mind worked. Helga often spoke her feelings in code. If she said she hated something; that really meant that she loved it. Complicated, but that was just Helga for you.
"How's the story going by the way?"
"It's going nowhere; I'm still stuck on the first paragraph," Helga said, getting up to dispose of the empty plate.
Lila took her place on the chair, and opened up the laptop. She read the beginning sentence out loud. "My name is Helga G. Pataki. Like most young girls, I made a lot of mistakes. The biggest one of all being Arn-"
"Please, don't read anymore," Helga said, placing her hand over the rest of the text.
"I think it's good that you decided to write about him. I could never, not after everything that happened between you two." Lila placed her hand on the girl's forearm, giving it a comforting squeeze.
"You think this is a good thing?" Helga sneered, eyes clouded with emotion. "I thought it would be therapeutic. But all it did was scare the crap out of me. I'm afraid that if I write about my high-school experience, his name will come up, and I'll be reliving my nightmare all over again."
"Helga, I've made a lot of mistakes too," said Lila, her cheeks burning as she remembered some of her most recent activities. Unlike Helga, Lila's skeletons were in full view all over the internet, and there was never any way she could take that back.
"But, here's a chance to start fresh, and getting that scholarship is the first way to do it."
They had long ago decided that it was in their best choice to go to Women's Art and Literature College. The school was aptly named, and only allowed women to apply there. By pure luck, Lila had stumbled upon the school's brochure add, and seeing the smartly dressed women and their proud, untroubled smiles brought such a good feeling in her heart. This was a perfect school for her and Helga to attend, no boys to steer them from their goals, and it had some of the best art and literature programs.
Lila had already sent in her application. She had an outstanding S.A.T score and lots of community service backing her, plus she was eligible for financial aid since she lived in a single parent household. Helga however, didn't have good enough grades to apply for financial aid, and this scholarship was her only ticket to getting in.
"Enough with the cliques, Lila, I don't need you to tell me what I already know." Seeing her friend's crestfallen expression, she softened up her tone. "Do you have suggestions about my story? Maybe that would help."
Lila immediately brightened, "Well, if I'm being quite honest, I thought the first sentence had lots of potential." Seeing the wearied look on her friend's face she quickly explained, "I know you have reservations about including Arnold in the story, but if you think about it, the story would be lifeless if you didn't."
Helga nodded, "Looking back, I think I'm now starting to realize that Arnold was the center of my mistakes. All the craziness branched from him somehow, and even when I thought it wasn't about him, it really was. I'm obsessive, aren't I?"
Lila gasped, and pointed at Helga. "Repeat what you just said!"
"I said, looking back-"
Jumping up, Lila eagerly sat Helga down in the chair, her excitement startling the blonde. "Don't you see Helga, that's you're second paragraph!"
Helga paused, an incredulous smile growing on her face. "So those bouts of poetic monologues really did come in handy."
"Poetic monologues?"
"Never mind that, I got a story to write." Inspiration flooded her, lighting up the dreary place that had once been her soul. She felt innervated, and the hope emitting off of her was almost palpable. Maybe she could finish this story after all.
Aligning her fingers to the keyboard, Helga began to type. She typed long after Lila left, long after the sun began to set, and a canopy of darkness covered the city that was Hillwood.
My name is Helga G. Pataki. Like most young girls, I made a lot of mistakes, the biggest one of all being Arnold S_. I say Arnold S_, because the love I hold for him is a secret one, and I'd appreciate it if it stayed that way.
Looking back, I think I'm now starting to realize that Arnold was the center of my mistakes. All the craziness branched from him somehow, and even when I thought it wasn't about him, it really was. I'm obsessive, aren't I?
I've got countless stories about high school. I've got countless stories about him; I can't tell you that their pretty, because they're not. In fact, this story should really be called the "Don't Do What I Did" story. But I think that "Ramifications of Helga" has a more poetic ring, don't you think? It seems like my life has been nothing but consequences as of late.
One of my biggest downfalls had to have been my little drunken stunt with a certain blond-haired boy. It's why I've spent my last days of high school hiding out in the girl's restroom. I thought I was a pariah then, but nothing could have ready me for the backlash I received for canoodling with the star of the volleyball team's boyfriend.
I remember thinking, there's no holding back this time. Any flashes of uncertainty had drained away the second we connected. I poured everything into that one kiss, unbelieving of the luck that had fallen into my hands. You can only imagine how encompassing that feeling was. I ran my hands meticulously through his hair, watching as his gorgeous cornflower locks spilt between my fingers. He looked at me, poring over my visage with bright, verdant green eyes. I felt like he was mapping out my soul in that one look.
We were lost in the tumults of our passion. The smell of his damp skin intoxicated me; his look of pure veneration consumed me. So overcome by the feelings that had long been unreciprocated, I was oblivious to everything around us; including the sight of Melanie's shadowed figure standing frozen by the door, her face stricken and pale as marble.
"How could you?" Her voice, so powerful and real, hit us like a bucket of ice-cold water.
Arnold jumped off me in a flash, his face twisted with gut-wrenching guilt.
She left us there in the dark, our bodies shaking in the aftermath. I could still hear the cries of our passion. It echoed around us, loud and shameful, blocking out the music blaring behind the door.
I licked my lips, catching the bitter twang of booze before it disappeared, like this moment would.
Moving on to three years earlier, those were just the beginning days of my self-destruction. I had already been a train wreck all throughout elementary and junior high, but oh, freshman year…They had a name for me back then.
(Three Years Earlier)
"See you later, Wacky-Pataki!"
Helga remained in her seat as students began to clear out of the auditorium. She had her feet prompted up on the seat in front of her, arms folded behind her head. Her eyes flitted over to the boy who had said the comment, Harold Berman. Him and his gaggle of friends laughed derisively as they passed her chair, one even going as far as to throw a crumpled ball of paper at her head. She sneered at their football team jerseys with contempt. Picking up the crumbled ball she lobbed it back at the boy who threw it.
He dodged it with a sly smile, "Better luck next time, Wacky."
Once everyone had departed, Helga let her mind finally fly away from her. She imagined herself being far away, just like Dr. Bliss had taught her long ago. She missed her old psychologist, and wondered what became of her. Was she counseling another angry blonde girl?
"Riveting wasn't it?"
"Huh?" Helga looked up, startled to find Lila Sawyer standing over her. She blinked dubiously for a few moments, having not been aware of Lila's existence up until now. After the PS 118 crowd parted ways, many of Helga's classmates had matriculated to different schools around the city, Lila being one of them. Helga had heard that the girl was going to Hillwood High now, but it was like trying to spot a needle in a hay stack. Those rare times she bothered to look up in the halls, she thought she might have seen the lone figure meandering through the halls. It was as if Lila had the uncanny ability to disappear, nobody knew her anymore, or cared to know her.
"I just enjoyed Mr. Kinsley's presentation on school bullying, ever so much. What are your opinions of it?"
Helga stared enviously at the girl's perfect visage. She was wholesomely dressed, and still wore her hair in pigtails. To symbolize her innocence some more, the clouds behind the picturesque windows parted, and a wave of golden sunlight filtered the auditorium, illuminating the top of her auburn mane like a halo.
Lila shifted awkwardly when Helga didn't answer. Her heart sunk slightly. She didn't want to spend the rest of high school being without friends. She had thought that because they were both friendless, Helga would warm to the idea of her, but it seemed she was wrong.
"Look, Helga, I know you don't like me but…Do you mind if I sit here?"
Helga scowled, weighing her options. Lila was a social leper just like Helga, but for different reasons. None of the girls liked her because she was too innocent, and boring. The spiteful part of her wanted to tell Lila to go back where she came from, to not cross the line that separated them.
"Sure, why not. It's a free country," Helga said, gesturing to the seat beside her.
The other part of her was a sad and lonely girl.
Fast forwarding to when Helga was fourteen. She was the angriest she'd ever been. Lila, already influenced, did nothing to stop the ticking time bomb. Together the two girls already cultivated their own little group. They weren't the pariah and ghost anymore but simply Lila and Helga. Well, there were still some people who called Helga, Wacky Pataki, but only when she wasn't in hearing distance.
"Move it, bucko, I'm walking here!" Helga said, shoving her way between two elderly women on the sidewalk. Lila gave them an apologetic smile before traipsing after her friend. They randomly entered a small little boutique on the edge of town. Helga snorted at every item in the store, shaking her head at Lila who held up a big sun hat with wide, hopeful eyes.
"Oh, these are cute." Lila led Helga over to the lingerie section. She browsed through the hangers of bras, picking one out and holding it to her chest.
Helga looked around wearily, "I don't think this is for girls our age, Lila."
"You're probably right. None of these fit me anyway." Sighing wistfully she put the bra back.
Helga snorted, "Hey look, they sell sling shots here!" Helga bent over, and picked up a thong off one of the tables with her forefinger. It was hot pink, and trimmed with lace. She stretched it, and then smacked Lila across the cheek with it, guffawing loudly at the mortified expression on her face.
A salesclerk woman made a beeline over to Helga, snatching the flimsy garment from her. "This is not a toy store, Missy," she said, peering down her nose at Helga.
"Well, duh! I already know that."
The woman smirked covertly, "This isn't a suitable place for a girl you're age anyway. How about Little Kiddies across the street, I hear their training bras are on sale."
Lila gasped, her cheeks turning several shades of scarlet.
Helga snatched the garment back, glaring brazenly at the woman. "Come on, Lila, the service here stinks."
"Aren't you going to pay for that, Little Missy?"
Helga stomped off, throwing the money at the cashier before exiting out the stop.
When she got home, she ensconced the skimpy underwear into an old gym sock, and stuffed it into the very back of her dresser. The next couple of days she forced herself to forget the purchase.
One morning while getting ready for school, Helga was fumbling through her sock drawer, when a thought flitted across her mind. Feeling silly, she got out the old gym sock where her purchase was hidden away. Pulling the underwear from its confines, she stared wearily at it, wondering again why she bought it in the first place. Oh, to prove that stupid woman wrong.
Nobody will know, Helga thought. She walked stiffly to the bus top, feeling naked and embarrassed. After today she was going back to regular underwear.
That afternoon, while in her biology class, Helga had this strange, pressing feeling that someone was watching her. She twisted around in her seat just in time to catch Arnold duck his head, his face turning puce. Phoebe, seated two seats behind him was blushing too, and pointed a finger towards the lower part of Helga's back, where her shirt had ridden up. Helga quickly lowered her shirt, but not before catching his eyes moving back to the spot where they had been ten seconds ago.
A week later, she went to the same lingerie shop and asked for a matching bra. By the tenth time she visited the store, the salesclerk woman smiled deferentially at her, asking if she needed any help.
Another Note: Any parts written in italics is supposed to be the story that Helga is writing.