This is, effectively, my first HA published fan fiction. I hope you like it. Intending to finish this story soon!
Please leave a review! Thank you!
It was Monday afternoon. Gerald had broken his arm in a biking accident and his parents had planned to keep him out of school for about a week so he could recover easier. With him gone, Arnold found himself wandering around the school during the break period looking for something to keep him occupied. At first, he would join in on the activities of other kids, like Stinky and Sid, who would typically spend their time doing things like racing bugs they had found in the bushes behind the school or writing bad jokes on scraps of paper and slipping them into lockers. But after Stinky offered him a hotbox session in his car, Arnold declined and meandered away, getting lost in his own head.
He had forgotten what respite it could be to be alone with ones thoughts. It didn't happen much anymore. His social life demanded what spare time he had. Advanced Placement classes were stealing most of his energy this year, and though he was happy to have the opportunity to learn a little more, the workload was substantial. Going home every day to an active boarding house with family who needed him for various errands on top of four or more hours of homework each night was taking a bit of a toll on his mental well-being.
Some personal downtime was well-deserved.
Arnold roamed past the front office and out the front doors of the building. The grassy lawn of the high school building was occupied by clusters of lounging kids. A few were studying. Others were flirting. Harold was busy demanding Rhonda's food in exchange for the pencil she borrowed two days ago, a proposition to which she was protesting. Arnold was famous for interjecting himself into other peoples' conflicts in order to offer his own advice, but today, he passed them up to walk along the wall left of the main doors. The day was cool but windy, and so he sought a place with a barrier to block the chill that came from the east.
He rounded the corner of the building to find a bench facing the street, occupied by none other than Helga, who paid him no notice.
Arnold reflexively paused. Years of being conditioned to remain out of the path of the human steamroller that was Helga G. Pataki have left their mark on Arnold's behavior. Though more recently, he recalled, Helga had matured past the recklessly aggressive little girl he had known for so long. She was still as confident in herself as ever, but she had lost that brassy bitterness that she was so well-known for. Her spiteful comebacks were replaced with witty, clever remarks that you wouldn't notice as insults unless you were sharp enough. While her attitude had mellowed considerably, Helga had somehow grown even more intimidating by becoming quieter and more deliberate of speech.
That is, at least, what he had heard from others. They didn't talk too much these days.
She was no longer clad in pink dresses and bows since she began choosing her own wardrobe. She was, however, wearing a pink backwards baseball cap, a skirt, and a sweatshirt, which Arnold preferred over the excessively pink and deceivingly cutesy get-up.
Wishing to pass but not wishing to be rude, Arnold waved upon his approach.
"Hi, Helga."
She remained facing the street, unresponsive. It was only then that he noticed she was wearing headphones, and that the music from her CD player was too loud for her to hear him.
Arnold decided to continue walking anyway. As he was about to pass, he glanced down to notice the cover of the CD Helga was listening to.
He stopped his stride in front of her upon recognizing the name of the album. She looked up at Arnold inquiringly, giving him a blank look.
"You… you like Public Enemy, Helga?" Arnold asks.
She slid off her headphones. "What?"
"I asked... do you like Public Enemy?" He pointed to the CD case on the bench beside of her.
She stared back for a moment. Then replied, "… Sure, football head. They're pretty good."
"They're my favorite East Coast group."
Helga did a raspy impression of one of the rappers, "Yeaaaaahh, boooyy."
Arnold chuckled. "I, uh… didn't know you liked 80's hip-hop. That's pretty neat."
She gave a nod and pretended to be distracted by something across the street. She seemed to be out of things to say. The prospect of sharing one of his most esoteric interests (no one in his school was quite as engrossed in the world of music as he was, nor possessed the knowledge base) overcame his reservations for conversing with Helga. Arnold fished into his jacket pocket for something.
"Hey… I have a headphone splitter. Could I… maybe…?" He pauses.
"Join me?" She raises her brow. "I dunno, Arnoldo. I've got an image to uphold, y'know. Sitting here, looking cool and self-obsessed. You might impede my efforts."
"Um. That's fine… I'll just- "
"Sit down, I guess. Don't worry, football head, I can start the CD over. It's It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, in case you didn't know." Helga moved over to make room.
Arnold continued standing for a moment, then sat tentatively beside her and plugged the splitter into the audio jack. "Oh, I totally know." He grabbed his own headphones out of his backpack and plugged those into the splitter. Helga attached hers as well.
This was really strange. Helga hit play and Arnold felt the raging lyrical passion of two rappers hyped up on the controversy of the time blast his ears. The audio quality would have been much better on his own sound system, but this was enough for him. Normally, the Helga Pataki he was familiar with would've made every effort to avoid such a seemingly friendly interaction with Arnold. Though, Arnold supposed they hadn't actually interacted properly in some time. For almost three years now, their interests and classes have kept them relatively apart, save for passing each other in the halls or Gerald tugging Arnold along to say hi to Phoebe, who was usually within arm's reach of Helga. He couldn't recall if their last actual conversation had even been civil.
Arnold kept facing forward purposely, limiting his awareness to the CD and that which was in front of him. He didn't want to upset this bizarre situation by making eye contact with Helga at a bad time. After a few moments, he allowed a shift in his vision so he could just see Helga in his peripherals. She wasn't paying him any attention. By the second track, he had lost himself in the music. The world didn't seem to continue on outside of his headphones. He sat totally still.
Time passed. Arnold continued in this state until the school bell cut through the sounds. He removed his headphones and turned at last to look at Helga. But she had already unhooked her CD player from his splitter, stuffed it all in her bag, and slung the bag over her shoulder to leave.
"Gotta go." was all she said.
For the days Gerald was gone, Arnold revisited Helga's bench where, it turned out, she spent every free period (despite having a readily available group of friends) listening to a meager collection of CDs by herself. Being the audiophile that he was, Arnold brought some from his own collection that he thought she might try.
"Jazz fusion?" Helga queried in a haughty tone. "What exactly is it fused with?"
"You can fuse it with lots of things. At first it was just rock, but you can use just about anything now."
"Strange." She glanced at Arnold as he popped the disk in. "Who's the artist?"
"Miles Davis. He's a jazz legend! You must know him."
She twirled her hand absentmindedly. "Y'know, not really. But since you're the music snob here, I suppose I can trust your judgement." She gave a barely detectable smile.
Arnold suddenly felt self-conscious. This might be the most sociable she has ever been toward him. He hit play and privately noted any visible reactions Helga had to the CD. She made a few faces in the beginning, but settled into it eventually. She even tapped her foot to a few tracks.
Things continued in this manner for the next few days. The two quietly shared each other's company whilst the other kids ran about and socialized. At more than one point, Arnold pulled out some light homework he desperately needed to finish. Helga observed this but did not comment on it, for which he was a little grateful.
It was Friday. Gerald would be allowed to come back to school next week. Arnold had been stopping by his house to see him on the way home from school every day, as well as deliver his homework. The parents didn't appear to be home when he entered the Johansson residence.
Timberly tackled him upon arrival. "Arnold!" Her weight was not enough to push him over. She was leaping for his hat.
"Can I borrow your tiny hat? Please?" she begged. "It's so small! It'll fit perfectly on my Mr. Bear toy!"
Arnold wrestled her off of him easily and lifted her up out of reach of his head. "No way, Timberly. This hat must never leave me. It's the only thing holding my super small brain."
She squealed. "Oh, now you gotta give it to me!"
"Timberly! Get your paws off my guest!" Gerald called from the living room. "And come in here and pick up your mess! Momma told you!"
The little sister ran ahead of Arnold into the doorway. Gerald was reclining on the sofa with his cast resting on the sofa's arm, watching the television. Timberly had scattered an assortment of toys across the carpeted floor, and she was now gathering them and carrying them halfway to her room before scattering them again.
"Hey, man!" Gerald greeted him. "Sorry about the welcome wagon. Mom and Dad are out for the night so they can't control her. Jamie O sure ain't gonna do it."
"It's cool, dude." He smiled at his buddy. Arnold never minded the chaos of the nuclear family that Gerald was blessed with. He really liked the idea of having siblings. He almost felt like Gerald's were his when he was over sometimes.
"I swear, I am getting some crazy cabin fever stuck in here. Can't go out and play ball. Can't do anything in the house except lay around like this. Folks don't want me stressing any important body parts while I heal."
"I can see that. They're just worried, you know?" Arnold dug out Gerald's homework from his back pack and handed it to him.
"I guess." Gerald sighed and snatched up the papers. "It's really getting to me, though. Please give me some insight into what all is happening in the real world."
Arnold paused. "Well, you might find this interesting." This got Gerald to raise an eyebrow. Arnold plopped down on the couch beside him.
"The, uh… water fountain broke again and flooded the science hall with an inch of water."
"Is that literally your highlight of the week? Dang, things are getting' dull around here. I mean, by comparison. That stuff might fly in another district, but remember when the entire first floor of P.S. 118 flooded and we had to be rescued by your grandpa in a boat?
Arnold nodded. "Yeah, that was pretty incredible."
"That's what I'm talking about, dude. Suspense and all that."
"There is something else that's happened since you've been out."
"Spill it for me." Gerald coaxed as he flipped through the T.V. channels.
"I, uh… I've been spending a lot of time with Helga during break period."
"…"
"…"
"Dude, what?"
"I know."
"No, like, doesn't she hate you, though?"
Arnold shrugged. "Not anymore, I guess. She's seems a little more grown up. She's had some time to change."
"What do you guys even do?"
"We listen to CDs. I've been showing her my favorite jazz albums."
"How do you make conversation?"
"We don't talk a whole lot, actually. Just… share music and stuff."
Gerald threw his good arm up in the air. "This is pretty weird, but okay!"
"It's not that bad. And I really need the quiet time. Just no one talking. It's kinda nice. It's hard to find someone you can share a comfortable silence with."
"It doesn't seem like it would be all that comfortable."
Arnold sighed. "Well, if it's okay with you, I'd like to keep hanging with her after lunch. I know you and I usually chill then, but-"
"Dude, it's okay. I'm gonna let you explore this weird social tangent. You just tell me how it goes."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, man. It might be worth it if she's actually becoming a decent person."
"Okay, cool. Because I think she might, y'know?"
"Whatever floats your boat, kid." Gerald resigned. He met Arnold's hand with one of their signature handshakes.
Arnold changed the subject. "What's on the T.V.?"
"The new Pop Daddy reboot. It's not bad, actually. But I feel as though they aren't catering to the fans of the original as much as they could be. I mean, you already have a loyal fanbase. You shouldn't try to re-hash what was already good."
They shared an hour or two of Pop Daddy before Jamie O came downstairs and took the remote from them, at which point Arnold decided to head home for dinner and his Statistics worksheets.
Arnold approached the bench like he had for the past few days. Helga was there, lounging, and maybe looking cheerier than average.
He dropped his bag and hopped onto the seat. "Hey, Helga. Did you get to sign Gerald's cast yet?"
"Uh… not yet. But I brought a CD I thought you might wanna hear."
"Hey, can I ask you something fir-"
She pulled a case out of her bag. "It's by a group called Earth, Wind, & Fire. A friend let me borrow it."
"Whoa." Arnold recognized the band and gaped. "I would… really like to listen to that."
"Then let's do it." She snapped it into the player.
"Hey, wait." He placed his hand preemptively on the CD player she was holding. "We're here every day at school together, and I really like meeting you here. But I also feel like I should know more about what goes on with you by now. We haven't really caught up or interacted at length since the 6th grade. Would you like to do that?"
Helga's eyes were wide, staring back at his. Arnold couldn't tell if she just didn't expect him to bring this up or if she had been trying to avoid a conversation like this. Either way, he was hoping she'd allow it.
"You mean… catch up? On, what? Life and stuff?"
He nodded. "Yeah, absolutely."
"I don't know… I don't sit on the bench during break to talk. If I wanted to talk, you'd see me elsewhere. You know. Talking to people."
"Please, Helga. I know it's a little out of the ordinary for you, but it would really mean a lot to me if we did discuss things."
Helga folded her arms and regarded the boy sitting next to her. It wasn't a cold stare, but it was the sort of stare people gave you when they didn't really want you around anymore. Arnold was uneasy and almost regretted bringing anything up. He was about to say so when the look faded, and was replaced with a weary expression. She slouched and averted her eyes.
"Are you okay with that?" He asked, out of genuine concern.
Helga reclined and folded her arms behind her head. "Well, I'm not really sure where to start you off... bucko." She smirked. "Four whole years of our adolescent lives. Why, it's been ages. Not even sure where to begin."
Arnold wasn't really sure what he was getting into.
She continued, without the playful sarcasm. "My father's beeper company went under a while ago before he could sell it off, what with "text messaging" becoming a thing now. A couple million in the hole, he took a job working for a telecommunications company. Ironic, huh?
"Mom's had to pick up the slack too. She recently took a job waitressing at that one fifties-themed diner on 34th Street, and that's going about as well as you would imagine. So, coming home to an empty house every evening while the parents are still working has pushed me to find social outlets elsewhere, such as school, where I've carefully assembled a small but competent group of female friends who respect me and follow my lead. The emotional and political security that this cabinet of advisors affords me is what I assume to be the root of my newfound level-headedness."
Arnold cocked his head. "Political security?"
She looked over to him. "I've held the position of student body Vice President for three terms now, uncontested. That's not unrelated."
He lowered his gaze. "Oh."
"Well." Helga sighed. "I guess that about gets you up to speed. Oh, and my sister Olga took a job in Vancouver and only flies in twice a year, so that's nice. Life's a dream."
Arnold wasn't quite sure how to feel. He preferred this new Helga to the old one. Well, at least he was pretty sure he did. And her family life had never been very functional. But to lack one altogether wasn't something he could imagine, having a rather large, though extended, family himself.
"So…?" Helga pressed.
"What?"
"What about yourself?"
Arnold started. "Oh. Um… Not much is different at the boarding house, really. My grandpa had to make one of the more dishonest boarders leave. We've got a new lady, Mrs. Cammish. She… collects porcelain clowns, which makes visiting her really unfun. But other than that, she's pretty awesome."
"Euugh." She shuddered.
"Yeah. But besides all that… it's really not that different."
"Good to know that everything's standard, football head. I didn't really expect things to change on that front."
"I'm really sorry about your dad's company."
She waved it off. "Don't worry about it. It was bound to happen one way or another, but technology got to him first. And it may have been for the best."
Arnold wasn't sure how to respond. He had always known of Helga's softer personality hidden underneath her prickly exterior, but this was the most willful baring of that vulnerable side he'd ever witnessed.
"Helga… you know, we've never had interactions like this before."
"What do you mean?"
Arnold fidgeted. "I'm still used to the name calling and the... various other abuses. I mean, you seemed to dislike most people, but a fair amount of that dislike was targeted toward me."
"…"
"Now, you're just so… chilled out. It's kind of new to me."
Helga only stared at him.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to point it out or anything."
"But you have."
Arnold panicked a little inside. "I-I... forget I said anything…"
She chuckled softly. "It's fine, I'm just giving you a hard time." Arnold thought about this and didn't feel as though this could be considered a hard time in the context of everything Helga's ever said to him.
"I guess you have a reason to be confused or whatever. But it's not that big of a deal. People naturally change and develop. And I'm a person, so that's going to happen. I'm not such a little girl anymore. And you're not such a little boy."
Arnold's felt his cheeks flush mildly. "So, uh…" He turned away, hoping it wasn't visible. "Can I ask what it was about me that made you hate me so much?"
"I… didn't hate you. Well… I kinda did. In a way." Now it was Helga who appeared uncomfortable. "Look, we should talk about this later. Now's not the best time."
"It's cool. We can talk about it when you're ready."
"Maybe." She glanced over his shoulder at something that had caught her attention. "I'm gonna have to cut this short. Sorry. It looks like I'm needed."
Arnold turned his head to see a group of girls waving for Helga's attention. They appeared to be selling pre-packaged snacks to a small crowd for a fundraiser.
"Nothing personal. It's just business. Here." She handed him the CD case. "Listen to it today and tell me what you think later."
Arnold took it from her and gave a wide grin. "I'll try to have it finished today. And... uh... Helga?"
"Hm?" She stood and stretched her arms.
"I really appreciated you opening up to me. And I like talking to you. Maybe we should hang out sometime."
Helga paused mid-stretch to stare at Arnold. It didn't appear as though she was prepared for a response this positive to spending time with her. She lowered her arms but didn't seem to know what to do with them.
"I... uh... sure."
She quickly slid her bag over her shoulder and walked away from their bench. As she left, Arnold reflected on their exchanges. Now that every sentence wasn't punctuated with a malicious jab at his hair or head shape, Arnold couldn't help but find Helga… interesting. And far less weird. He had been noticing things about her that he had never considered before. Helga was an intelligent and confident girl. Most boys he knew wouldn't use the word attractive, but there was a certain something about her. He could bring himself to admit that Helga was pretty, in her own way. Even… developed. In the way that females eventually are. Arnold wasn't really sure how to feel.
He produced his own CD player, popped in the disk, and pressed play.
