ALL THAT WAS
.
I know you think that
I shouldn't still love you
Or tell you that.
But if I didn't say it,
Well I'd still have felt it.
Where's the sense in that?
.
Everything had been all right for a while. Arnold had miraculously accepted her feeble excuse of the "heat of the moment," and everything had gone back to the way it had been. Okay, so there were less spit balls thrown and a lot more monologues made (mostly about the amazing kiss she had shared with her beloved on the FTi rooftop, but others too, especially after that... that whatever it was that occurred during the April Fool's Dance). But for the most part, Arnold had gone back to being a dense pushover, and Helga had returned to being the tormentor of her heart's secret affections.
But then came the prank that had gone horribly wrong in sixth grade. Helga had devised a simple trap for an unsuspecting football head. She had never expected or wanted the klutzy Eugene Horowitz to walk into the classroom first. What should have been a bucketful of honey in Arnold's honey-colored hair suddenly became a broken arm for the innocent redhead.
The other kids had assumed either that the prank had been for anyone, or perhaps that Eugene himself had specifically been targeted. Thankfully, the teacher had no evidence to send anyone to the principal's office, and Helga had been relieved to skip that phone call with Big Bob.
However, Arnold, in one of his rare, smarter moments, had figured out that the bucket was meant for him. And that Helga had put it there. He wasn't sure how Helga knew that he had meant to be at school early for tutoring, but when it came to Helga torturing him, Arnold had learned anything was possible. Luckily for him, Arnold had missed the first bus and was not the first student to enter the classroom. He actually felt guilty about Eugene's broken arm, until he reminded himself that Helga was the real problem.
He had told all of this to Helga with an angry voice as he cornered her after school. She could only stare like a deer caught in the headlights. Arnold hadn't been this upset since that one April Fool's day. And he hadn't pushed her like this since the rooftop of FTi, she realized, as he badgered her on why she continuously picked on and tormented him. Helga was slightly impressed that he had figured her out and was confronting her about it. Oh, Arnold, there's something so irresistible about you when you get mad, she mused, before snapping back to reality at his raised tone.
"Why do you do it Helga? I know somewhere in there is a nicer person," he argued, somehow making her feel small even though she was taller than him. "Why is it always me you're bothering? Why do you have to be such a bully? Why can't you just be yourself?"
Helga's emotions had been building rapidly by the second. How dare Arnold question her like this? Who did he think he was? Did he forget who ran this school? Helga G. Pataki answered to no one, especially not this little yellow-haired shrimp! She couldn't help but bully him, he was Arnold. Arnold, the football head who set her heart aflame. Arnold, the most amazing, nice, sweet, caring boy she'd ever met since that day in preschool. Arnold, who was as dense as a brick and yet somehow put the pieces together when she least wanted him to. Arnold, who couldn't handle her first confession and had swept it under the rug as some "heat of the moment" thing. Arnold, who, Helga was realizing, would never understand the depths of her feelings for him.
Just like that, the fight was gone, and Helga's resolve crumbled away.
"Because you can't handle my real self," she replied quietly, defeated.
Arnold, who had certainly been expecting some kind of explosive, angry comeback, seemed stunned by her admission. Of course, being the slow, paste for brains that he was, he was utterly confused, and Helga had to spell it out for him again.
"Criminy, Football Head," she started, though with less force, as those words had come to mind automatically. "Only you could be so stupid as to make me go through this twice."
Arnold crossed his arms impatiently, unaware of the conflict that had gone through the pigtailed girl's brain earlier. "What are you talking about, Helga?"
But Helga was still hesitant to say it outright. The last time she had bared her feelings before Arnold, she had gone off into a rather long monologue and lost herself as she made out with him on that accursed rooftop. Helga hated losing control, and she wasn't about to let it happen again, not here in a classroom at school, even if the building was mostly empty after hours.
"I already told you once, Arnold," she replied at last. Her use of his real name caught Arnold's attention, and Helga could feel his eyes on her heated cheeks. "I love you."
He laughed weakly. "You can't possibly mean... I thought we moved past that awkward moment."
Awkward moment? His words stung. She had always suspected it, but to hear Arnold confirm just how little he thought of her heartfelt love confession... She gripped the straps of her backpack tightly, trying to will away the tears threatening to fall.
"You see what I mean?" she asked, barely whispering and struggling to keep her thoughts from running wild. "You didn't want to know it then, and you don't want to hear it now." Helga pushed back the tears and tried to look unaffected (she failed). "So don't pretend you want me to be myself, Arnoldo."
Arnold was silent for a long time, his face twisted in thought and disbelief.
"I don't know who you are Helga," he said at last, staring her down, "but I know that no one can act so mean one minute and then try to say 'I love you' the next. It's impossible. Don't even bother trying to explain. I'm not an idiot, despite what you think."
Whatever had been left inside of her disappeared. Had he really just...?
"Don't ever bother me again," Arnold said, turning away. "Just leave me alone, please."
It was all Helga could do as she watched him walk away. The second he had left and the classroom door closed behind him, the tears began to slide down her cheeks. Her legs must have given out because she suddenly found herself on the floor.
Arnold had just rejected her. Not in the sense that he had acknowledged her feelings but could not return them. No, he had completely rejected her love for him as a lie, as something she was incapable of feeling. He had labeled her feelings as impossible. And then he had left, not wanting to hear any more. He had forced her to reveal her deepest and darkest secret, but he didn't want to deal with it. She supposed it was her fault. Helga had bullied him for so long that he couldn't see her as anything else. Ever since that April Fool's thing, Arnold had been fighting back against her, little by little. And now he was standing up for himself. If he hadn't just ripped her heart out and left it on the floor to be stepped on as he walked away, Helga would feel proud of him.
Instead, she only felt the emptiness he had left behind.
.
I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder,
Or return to where we were.
But I will go down with this ship.
.
Helga was sure that the only reasons she could get up and return to school the next day were (a) Bob was in one of his 'actually aware he had a second daughter and griping about how useless she was compared to Olga so "get your butt out of bed and up to that school this instant, little missy"' moods, and (b) she was still numb from the previous day's events and was still processing everything that had happened and therefore was still in stage one of the grief that was sure to come.
Phoebe had immediately noticed the change in her best friend upon meeting at their lockers. Helga didn't know what she had done to deserve such a best friend, but Phoebe was there without questions. She somehow seemed to know even without asking, though Helga suspected she might have heard something from Tall Hair Boy. Helga was sure Arnold's side of the story was simple and clean-cut, but Phoebe had seen right through it and figured out the truth.
Her friend thankfully didn't pester for details, though Helga did catch Phoebe shooting glances her way all day. Somehow, Helga managed to take notes in every subject, though she remembered nothing she had written and couldn't even recall what the lessons had been about. Her teacher had also seemed to pick up that something was different about his gifted poetry-writing student, but he wisely chose not to comment on it. Helga thanked the maker that Arnold was seated four rows in front of her, and she practically didn't see him all morning. If his heavy words hadn't been drumming on the inside of her skull, she could have even forgotten he was in the same room at all.
Unfortunately, lunch rolled around far too soon for Helga, and she suddenly found herself in line next to Arnold. The shorter boy hadn't noticed her yet, talking amiably with Gerald. You can do this Helga old girl, just grab the jello and meet Phoebe at the usual table, she told herself. She reached for the last red jello cup in front of her, only to stop as another hand grabbed it.
"Arnold!" she squeaked. Seeing him right in front of her, she was thrown back to the previous day. Those horrible words leaving her beloved's kind mouth. Awkward moment. Impossible.
Her sweet, kind, caring Arnold surely couldn't have said those things, right? Maybe Helga had misheard. Maybe it was a misunderstanding. "Arnold," she said, glad her voice was no longer coming out in a frightened high pitch, "I, umm, about yesterday–"
"I thought I told you, Helga, leave me alone," Arnold reminded, as if she had forgotten and had planned to do something mean. "I won't take it anymore."
Gerald gave her a once over and scoffed in agreement, and then he and Arnold were gone. Helga stood there for a long time, looking at the place where the jello cup had sat but not really seeing it. Nor did she see the long line of students growing impatient behind her, finally rolling their eyes and skipping around her.
Normally, she would have growled and shoved that jello right up his nose and reminded that football head just who he was dealing with. But she found she couldn't reach that part of herself at the moment. Her shock at Arnold's cold words seemed to drown out everything else. It's impossible. Don't even bother trying to explain. You are a mean bully whose feelings can't possibly be so complex so don't even bother saying anymore, that was what he had meant. He had really said that. Arnold had actually, really and truly said those awful words.
Phoebe's hand on her shoulder caused Helga to jump and return to the cafeteria. She noticed it was empty and that the trash bins were full. Lunch was over.
Helga allowed Phoebe to take her hand and lead her away from the cafeteria, down the halls and to their classroom. The afternoon lessons had already begun, but Phoebe didn't stop in front of the door. She led Helga past their classroom and down a different hallway. The girls didn't stop walking until they were hidden away in the safety of the roof stairwell. In the dimly lit space, tucked into Phoebe's side, Helga had nothing to distract her from the emptiness thick inside her heart.
And Phoebe held her tightly as Helga choked through her emotions and struggled to make sense of everything that had happened. They didn't go back to class; they sat there on the stairs and cried together as the gravity of her little angel's words finally dragged Helga down into a sad reality.
They stayed that way on the stairs until long after the late buses had pulled away.
.
I know I left too
Much mess and destruction
To come back again.
And I caused nothing but trouble,
I understand if you
Can't talk to me again.
.
Once the grief had settled in, it was hard for Helga to think of anything else. She cried for hours at a time into her pillow. She cried whenever she found a pink book in a drawer or opened her closet. She cried over her pink bow and her Arnold locket and anything really, because everything reminded her of Arnold.
She missed days of school at a time because she lacked the strength to get out of bed. Her parents hadn't paid any attention at first, but then Bob slipped into one of his moods. No amount of yelling, however, could get Helga to leave her bed. Her father must have finally noticed her bloodshot eyes and tissues all over the floor because he had left her alone after a while.
Whenever she did get out of bed, Helga found she couldn't do anything without being reminded of Arnold. How she made it through the days she managed to get to school was a mystery to even her. She assumed it had something to do with Arnold actively avoiding her, and while she knew it was better to not see him (as seeing him would have caused a breakdown, surely), this cut her down to the core. He never looked her way again. He ignored her during class, and he never spoke to her during baseball practice. Whenever Helga thought of trying to make peace between them, Arnold would disappear before she could take more than a step in his direction. She didn't dare approach him during lunch, surrounded by all of their friends. She and Phoebe had even started eating lunch in the library, though it was mostly Phoebe doing all of the eating. Helga never seemed to have an appetite.
The rest of the school year crawled by this way. Helga had missed so many classes that it was a wonder she passed sixth grade. She had a hunch her teacher was smarter than she'd given him credit for, even if he hadn't said anything to her directly. This old man wasn't as interested in his students' lives as Mr. Simmons. But for whatever reason, he had given her a passing grade.
During the summer, things began to change.
It started with a huge scare that first week of vacation when Helga passed out cold on Phoebe's doorstep. She hadn't been sleeping or eating regularly, and her body had finally given in. The hospital trip shook something in Bob and Miriam, who suddenly paid much more attention to their younger daughter than they ever had. Phoebe was pale and quiet throughout the entire ordeal, but once Helga was awake and alert, and the two girls were alone in Helga's bedroom after she had been released, the small Asian girl had yelled some choice words.
"This ends now, Helga, do you hear me?" Phoebe cried, startling her best friend. "I was so scared you were going to die! I know Arnold was your whole world and that losing him must be terrible, but you still have other things in life. Like... like me!" Helga had never heard Phoebe sound so selfish. Her best friend and sidekick had always been meek and soft-spoken when it came to their friendship.
"I know you're depressed but please don't forget me, Helga! You're my best friend and I don't know what I would do without you!" Phoebe shouted, clinging to the taller girl. "Don't leave me, Helga, please. I know Arnold was important but aren't I at least worth thinking of?"
Helga had hugged her best friend tightly in return. Of course Phoebe was worth thinking of. She was more than that; their friendship was worth more than that. How could she forget Phoebe? Certainly Phoebe was important in her life. Just as important as Arnold, probably even more so.
"I'm sorry, Pheebs," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
.
And if you live by the rules of it's over,
Then I'm sure that that makes sense.
But I will go down with this ship.
I won't put my hands up and surrender.
.
Throughout that summer, Helga spent recovering from what Dr. Bliss declared one of the worst emotional traumas that could happen to a person: a broken heart.
"Helga, this is not your fault," Bliss reminded her for the fifth time that session. "Yes, you have bullied Arnold for several years, and I am not discounting that. However, that doesn't mean you deserve the way he is treating you now. Two wrongs do not make a right."
Helga sighed and curled into herself further on the couch. "But blaming myself is the only thing that makes me feel better," she admitted.
Telling herself that Arnold's harsh rejection was karma for all of the years she had tormented him, was the only way she could get through the day. It was the only sane thought she had to cling to. This reasonable explanation had pulled Helga from her deepest depressions and had allowed her to function somewhat normally again. That and Phoebe's constant encouragement.
"Admitting that you are partly to blame is a very responsible thing to do," Dr. Bliss said, sounding proud as she joined Helga on the couch. "However, I wish you would acknowledge that Arnold is also at fault."
Helga sighed again. "How could it possibly be his fault?"
"That's what I mean, that right there. The way you speak of Arnold as if he's the most noble human being. I think you need to reevaluate how you view Arnold," Bliss suggested kindly. "I don't think he's the vision of perfection that you write about in your poems. I'm sure he's a very nice boy, but everyone has their faults."
Helga shrugged doubtfully and stared out the window.
Her psychologist followed suit. "Helga, you're experiencing something no twelve year old girl should have to go through. Not even some adults can handle this sort of thing. You loved Arnold so passionately for over seven years, and he blatantly disregarded your feelings... twice. You told me that Arnold was the only person to notice you, that he gave you hope when your family gave you nothing. And now he's pulled the rug out from under you, so to speak," she added when Helga arched her eyebrow.
"But I can't just... stop loving him," Helga replied, frustrated. "Phoebe has said similar things about Arnold, and I've tried to hate him, I really have!" She leaned into the couch with a sad smile.
"But I just can't help it... I love Arnold."
.
And when we meet,
Which I'm sure we will,
All that was there
Will be there still.
But I'll let it pass
And hold my tongue,
And you will think
That I've moved on.
.
Granting Arnold's last request had been surprisingly easy once they left P.S. 118. When the class had finally reached seventh grade, they moved to Hillwood Junior High West and were dispersed among different teachers and subjects. Helga barely saw Arnold at all during their stay at the junior high building. She was actually grateful to see less of him; Helga knew that if she and Arnold were forced into close quarters again, she'd probably fall apart.
And she was doing so well, too. Her home life had improved considerably since that trip to the hospital. Her parents had finally gotten their act together enough to do some actual parenting. Miriam still passed out on the couch and Bob was still a blowhard, but little by little things had changed. Her lunch was almost always packed with a full meal. Bob had given Helga a cell phone for 'emergencies only', though she quickly was granted permission to text Phoebe, too. Even Olga was less suffocating on her visits. Her older sister wasn't in the complete know, but she seemed to have correct suspicions that something had happened with a boy (of course, Helga made her swear to never tell Big Bob, lest any sort of future dating life be ruined before she reached high school).
The sessions with Dr. Bliss had also worked wonders. While Helga still thought Arnold was an amazing person, she eventually realized that Bliss had been right about the football head not being as perfect as she had written. She had been wrong to bully him, but Arnold had been wrong with how he handled everything. However, Helga also knew that they had both been children. Arnold didn't know how to handle a love confession at age nine, just as she hadn't known how to handle her embarrassment and feelings throughout most of her childhood. Dr. Bliss said she had the mind of a young adult, but Helga scoffed and called it common sense.
By the time she entered high school, Helga had grown up considerably, not just in the obvious looks and vocabulary, but in every other way, too. She was no longer the class bully who had secretly been an overly dramatic basket case. She was a smart young lady with a talent for writing, not to mention she had more friends than she knew what to do with.
"What about Katrinka?" Phoebe suggested, looking over her friend's shoulder at the list they were making.
Helga shook her head and tucked her long hair behind her shoulder when it got in the way. "Nah, she and Rhonda had a huge fallout last year, remember? Besides, she's a cheerleader and wouldn't be caught dead at a party held by someone who isn't in her popular circle."
They were making a list of all the girls Helga was friends with for a sleepover Olga was throwing in two weeks. Olga had insisted it would be a fun way to spend Helga's birthday and that her baby sister should invite all of her friends, even though Helga argued that she would be fifteen and no one had sleepover parties at fifteen (Phoebe staying over and vice versa was not an official sleepover party and therefore did not count). So far, they had written down Rhonda, Nadine, Sheena, and Patty's names.
"I'm ever so certain you forgot Marcy," Lila interjected, taking a sip of her soda before returning to her fashion magazine.
Helga nodded and added Marcy's name to the list. Then, looking it over again, she scribbled Lila and Phoebe's names at the top of the paper.
"I doubt Olga would forget my closest friend or her darling Lil Sis, but you never know. She's been scatterbrained ever since Nathan proposed, and yesterday she burned the chicken." Helga laughed in disbelief. "Olga never burns anything."
The other two girls joined in and giggled, before moving on to talk about what sort of movies they would watch (Lila wanted romance, but Helga wanted an Evil Twin marathon). Their freshman year of high school was almost over, and it hadn't been half as bad as Wolfgang had once preached to anyone who would listen. The classes were harder and there was more homework, but Helga also enjoyed working on the school paper and reading the books that her advanced English teacher had assigned.
She had also become friends with Lila, something she thought would never happen, not even if hell froze over. But Lila visited Olga whenever the older girl was in town, and so she also visited Helga by consequence. And after some constant (but ever so kind) pestering on Lila's part, Helga had told her the story of why she and Arnold no longer talked (something that, up until that point, had driven Lila crazy with curiosity and worry). Helga, Lila, and Phoebe were now good friends and often hung out together on the weekends and after school. They would all go to the science museum for a new exhibit Phoebe wanted to see, and Helga would drag the other two along to the latest horror film. And even on occasion, Lila would corral them all to the mall for a shopping day and ice cream.
And the high school boys weren't nearly as perverted as Big Bob had aggressively warned. Although she would admit, Helga was surprised at being asked out by not one, but two boys that year. She had turned them both down gently. As flattered as she was, she wasn't romantically interested in either of them. Instead, she focused on setting up Phoebe and Tall Hair Boy, who had been dancing around their feelings for each other for years now.
"Hello, ladies," a smooth voice interrupted.
Gerald was leaning on the table with one arm, eyebrows cocked in a flirty manner.
"Well hello, Gerald," Lila greeted politely, albeit a bit stiffly, and she began packing the remnants of her lunch into her designer backpack. "I'm sure Phoebe is ever so glad to see you."
The Asian girl blushed, and Helga just rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because we all know you didn't walk across the cafeteria just to say hi to Little Miss Perfect and me."
"Hello to you too, Helga," Gerald said sarcastically. He turned to Phoebe. "What are you doing two Saturdays from now?"
Strangely, although she and Arnold were no longer on speaking terms, Gerald did not appear to hold any sort of grudge against Helga on account of his best friend. Gerald wasn't easy on her, by any means, but she knew any such remarks stemmed from the childhood bullying he had endured at her hands. Helga had asked Phoebe once or twice if the girl had told Tall Hair Boy details of her falling out with Arnold, but Phoebe had answered negatively. Gerald had always disliked Helga as a kid, even more so than Arnold, but he was also different than Arnold. The cool kid and keeper of urban legends always kept things real; he didn't look on the bright side, nor did he always agree with everything said by his football-headed friend. Perhaps he had spotted a flaw in Arnold's treatment of Helga, but she wasn't going to hold her breath. Whatever the reason, Helga chose not to look the gift horse in the mouth and sincerely appreciated Gerald's acquaintanceship with her.
Phoebe blinked at such a random topic, but the list on the table in front of her was a good answer. "Um, I'll be busy that night... Why?"
Lila snorted, and they all looked at her. She hastily covered her action with a giggle. "Oh Gerald, I'm ever so sure you could have texted that to Phoebe." Helga noticed that Lila was actually a bit miffed at having her 'girl talk' interrupted.
"Look Geraldo, Phoebe already has plans that day and the next morning," Helga announced, and Gerald seemed annoyed that she was speaking on the other girl's behalf. "However, she's free after that... so how about you pick her up that Sunday afternoon at my place and go on your date?"
Gerald and Phoebe blushed, but Lila gave a thumbs up. Helga kicked her best friend's foot under the table. It's now or never, Pheebs, she channeled when the smaller girl glared at her.
Phoebe blushed again. "Actually... a date sounds nice," she replied sweetly.
As happy for her best friend as she was, all of this blushing was getting to be too much for Helga G. Pataki. She sighed in relief when someone called Gerald's name, only for that relief to turn into abject horror as Helga caught sight of just who had joined them.
"Did you forget we were having a team lunch today?" Arnold asked exasperatedly. "Everyone's waiting. What are you even doing all the way over here?"
Much to Helga's displeasure, Arnold was even more good-looking than he had been when they were younger. He had somehow grown into his football-shaped head, and the muscles he had developed from being on the baseball team didn't hurt either. She was still taller than him, but it hardly mattered. Arnold still gave her butterflies after all these years, especially as she rarely saw him these days.
And whenever she did happen to see him, it was always by chance and caught her off guard, like today. Arnold wouldn't notice, but Helga wished she had dressed better today, for her own sake. She was wearing a plaid button-down blouse and some jeans Lila had persuaded her to buy, and while her outfit wasn't the worst, she hadn't brushed her hair since this morning and it kept falling in front of face and oh god she had put her purple pen behind her ear to keep it there, the one she'd been using to write the sleepover list, which was still on the table.
"Way to ruin the moment, Arnold," Lila chided warmly, drawing the boy's attention to the three girls sitting there. He was surprised to see them, if his expression was anything to go by.
"Man, I was kind of in the middle of something," Gerald hissed, annoyed that his best friend had just ruined his flirting game. He gestured to Phoebe with his eyes.
Arnold followed his line of sight and opened his mouth in an 'oh' of understanding. Then his gaze settled on the third girl at the table, but Helga absolutely refused to meet his eyes; instead, she was decidedly staring a hole through her ham sandwich.
"It's all right, Gerald, you can text me the details," Phoebe suggested with a smile.
This reminder of her plan to finally get those two together took precedence over Arnold, and Helga threw an arm around Phoebe and she winked cheekily at Gerald. "Or, you know, you could meet up after practice and discuss it in person."
Gerald blushed again, and Arnold, for some reason, looked embarrassed.
"Oh, how is your campaign going for class president, by the way?" Lila asked Arnold, thankfully drawing his attention away from Helga.
He shrugged. "Not the greatest, to be honest. I mean, I wouldn't be in this mess if someone," he glared at Gerald, who whistled innocently, "hadn't nominated me in the first place, but it doesn't help that Rex has been spreading nasty rumors and playing dirty."
"Yes, that was awful what he said about... you," Phoebe agreed, wisely choosing to not describe everything Rex Smythe-Higgins the Third had written about Arnold's family on the school's website, namely the horrible rumors about Arnold's home life, his missing parents, and the sanity of his grandparents.
"Hmm, that is unfortunate," Lila replied smartly, and was it Helga's imagination or had Lila discretely glanced her way for a second?
"Don't worry, my man," Gerald said smoothly with a sweep of his arm. "No one likes that snobby Higgins anyway. You've got this election in the bag!"
Arnold rubbed his eyebrows. "I still don't see why you didn't just run for president yourself. Why'd you have to go and nominate me?"
"Hey man, I did that class president thing in elementary school," Gerald explained with a shrug. "I think you'd be way better at it, Mr. Brightside."
Helga bit her tongue and held back any sentiments she had on the matter. She did think Arnold would make a good class president, but her opinion didn't matter to him, so she kept it to herself. He would surely make a better representative than Rex, even with his drawbacks. As much of a positive influence on their classmates as he had been during their childhood, Arnold did have his flaws. It had taken Helga a whole summer and then some to notice, but it had greatly helped in her recovery. Arnold was always looking on the bright side, but sometimes, that wasn't the best choice; his continuous, positive advice wasn't always what people really needed to hear. Not to mention his dating life (something that still made Helga scowl, even if she knew she had less than a rat's ass chance with the football head). Arnold was awfully shallow when it came to girls, and he kept falling for pretty faces who either had nothing in common with him or were total airheads. Lila had been the exception to this, although that had been Helga's own fault, since Arnold may have never even looked Lila's way if it hadn't been for those chalk words written on the wall.
Arnold's judgment of women aside, Helga knew he was a great choice for class president. She had so many words of encouragement she could have given, but she knew Arnold didn't want to hear them coming from her.
"I have practice after school, but I'll call you later, okay?" Gerald told Phoebe. He waved at the other two girls. "Later, ladies."
Lila waved back, and Helga nodded in his direction, all while still focusing her eyes on the sandwich in front of her.
"Bye Lila," Arnold said, then doing the same to Phoebe. His green eyes turned to Helga for a moment, but then Arnold was gone, hurrying after his best friend.
She let out a huge breath and slumped down in her chair. Why had that little exchange, in which she and Arnold hadn't even conversed, felt so taxing?
"I'm sorry, Helga," Phoebe apologized. "I don't think Gerald meant for Arnold to follow him to our table."
"I know. It's fine, Pheebs," she replied tiredly. "I was just caught off guard, that's all."
"Still, it was rather rude," Lila said loudly. "Want me to send some embarrassing, personal details I know about him to Rex so he can start more trash talk?"
Phoebe and Helga stared at her, mouths open.
"How... uncharacteristically evil of you," Phoebe said, unsure of what else to say.
Helga chuckled. "Thanks, Miss Perfect, but no need for that. I'm fine, really. Besides..." She grew quiet, not continuing until both Lila and Phoebe prompted her. "I... I think Arnold would make a good president."
"Hmm." Lila smirked and turned back to her magazine. "I don't know... Rex has spread ever so many rumors. Someone would need to do something about that."
Phoebe was confused and bugged Lila for an explanation, but that quickly dissolved into a conversation about Phoebe's outfit for her date with Gerald, and Lila flipped through her magazine for resources.
Helga said nothing for the rest of the lunch period. Little Miss Perfect was right.
Someone really should do something about those rumors...
.
I will go down with this ship.
I won't put my hands up and surrender.
There will be no white flag above my door.
I'm in love and always will be.
.
Arnold Shortman won the class presidency by a landslide. Rex had tried one last dirty trick before election day by posting photos of Arnold's bunny pajamas all over the school, but no one had really cared. Arnold had secured 93% of the ninth grade student body votes, one of the largest victories in the high school's history.
Rhonda Wellington Lloyd threw a huge party to celebrate not only Arnold's victory over "that Higgins brat, how did I ever think he was cool" but also for the end of their first year of high school. Everyone from their old P.S. 118 gang was invited, along with the other ninth graders (even Katrinka and Rex), and so the Lloyd Mansion was full of teenagers that first weekend of summer.
Helga had refused to bring a swimsuit or get in the pool, but she had allowed Lila to pick out a cute dress and matching accessories ("only if it will get you off my back about the bikini" Helga had threatened). So Helga was dressed rather pretty, even she had to admit, with a flowy button-down floral blue dress, navy tights, and black wedges. Her blonde hair had been swept into a messy bun at the back of her head due to the high humidity that had settled upon Hillwood earlier in the week. Seated comfortably on one of Rhonda's wicker couches, Helga had a perfect view of the pool without being close enough to be in danger of getting wet.
Phoebe and Lila had been by her side at the beginning of the night, but over the past few hours they had both left the couch. Phoebe was probably off on a lovely stroll with her boyfriend, a relationship that had successfully come about after their date during Helga's birthday weekend. Helga had of course threatened to rip out Gerald's spleen if he ever hurt her best friend, and didn't he know it, but she had also congratulated the two at finally getting together ("because seriously, you two move slower than a pack of snails when it comes to romance"). So Helga had no doubt that the two lovebirds were off having fun together tonight.
She wasn't quite as sure as to where Little Miss Perfect had disappeared, but Helga suspected it had something to do with Patty (who, despite not being a ninth grader, had been graciously invited as well, being a close friend of Rhonda's). Patty had seemed nervous about something, and Helga recalled Lila mentioning swimsuits at one point, so perhaps the two girls had gone to find Patty a cute and comfortable swim piece.
Helga didn't mind being alone on the couch. She had removed her wedge sandals and tucked her stockinged feet up under her, and the cushions were soft despite the occasional piece of wicker poking into her leg. She brought a notebook and had been leisurely scribbling away in it over the course of the party. Sometimes she wrote down little poems that popped into mind, and occasionally she caught her classmates doing something hilarious or embarrassing and would write a paragraph about that. But she also found herself thinking up ideas for a story she had recently started. Helga quite enjoyed the brainstorming part, even if she wasn't sure she would get around to actually writing a full-fledged novel any time soon.
So she was quite content to stay on her little couch on the veranda, away from the loud chatter of the pool area, and even further away from the games and possible drinking happening inside. There were a few others scattered around similar chairs, and Sid was sucking face with a cheerleader not five paces away from her, but overall Helga found herself enjoying the party to an extent.
"It was you, wasn't it?"
Helga yelped, startling off the cushion and dropping her notebook and pen. That fat, purple-inked pen rolled away, only to come to a stop next to a brown shoe.
Hurriedly picking up her notebook and attempting to sit on the couch like a normal person who hadn't just been scared shitless by the sudden appearance of her unrequited love, Helga watched as Arnold bent down to retrieve her pen. He handed it back to her, and she rather awkwardly snatched it back as if she'd been burned. He quirked a brow, but she didn't offer an explanation, hoping that her coldness would send him packing, or that he'd ignore her and leave her alone like he usually did.
Unfortunately, he did neither, and she eyed him with nervous contempt as he invited himself to sit on the couch with her. It wasn't exactly a large couch, either, to Helga's great discomfort. There was less than a foot of space between them.
"Err... what?" she croaked, remembering he had asked a question but not recalling the exact words that had been lost under her terrified yip.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Arnold chuckled, and Helga had to suck in a huge breath at hearing his wonderful laugh up close and directed her way for the first time in years.
"I wasn't scared," she lied, turning away when he looked at her. She had seen Arnold in the pool earlier, and his hair was still damp. But he must have brought a change of clothes because he was now wearing a loose shirt and jeans, and why did he have to look so good under the porch lights?
"What do you even want, Arnold?" Helga asked, not bothering to hide the wariness in her tone. There was no point in pretending they were on friendly terms.
Arnold frowned at her rudeness. "I can't just say hi to you?"
She scoffed. "You haven't spoken to me in three years, so no, I doubt you just want to say hi. What's your angle, Arnold?"
They hadn't spoken this much since sixth grade, and it was making Helga extremely uncomfortable. Criminy, you'd need a chainsaw to cut through all of this tension, she thought, although the weak joke did little to calm her nerves. She hated that, even after all of these years, and after everything that had happened, Arnold still made her girlhood tremble. To still be so in love with someone, she had to be a basket case.
Arnold sighed. "I suppose I deserve that," he offered.
His admission surprised her, but Helga wasn't letting her guard down that easy. What the hell was he up to?
"Anyway," Arnold continued, noticing her glare, "I just, uhh, I just wanted to thank you, Helga."
Helga's grip on her notebook tightened and her shoulders hunched. She refused to look at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
She really wished she hadn't taken off her shoes, as Helga would have preferred to run far away right now.
"I'm pretty sure you do, Helga," Arnold argued. "I know you wrote that article in the school paper about me."
Helga desperately wished she was not holding a notebook and pen, obvious reminders of her hobby, that very moment. "Oh you know that, do you?" she countered, trying very hard not to sound as panicked as she felt.
Arnold crossed his arms confidently. "Helga, you work on the school paper," he reminded. "You're a very talented writer, and there were certain details in that article about me that only someone who has known me for a very long time would know."
Only someone who's been stalking you for a very long time, she mentally corrected. But he didn't need to know that. She felt a stab of pride that Arnold thought she was a good writer, but as far as he was concerned, she hadn't written anything.
"Just because I work on the paper, it doesn't mean I write every article in there, bucko," she hedged. "There are nine other students working on that newspaper, and only a senior member could have fudged the front page for an article about the freshman class election."
Arnold laughed again. "Since when would that have stopped Helga G. Pataki?" He caught her eye and smiled, and Helga's heart flipped dangerously. "I should probably be mad about the number of intimate details about my childhood that the entire school now knows, but... That essay was amazing, Helga. It was the sole reason I won the election, I'm sure of it. How you interviewed my grandparents, the boarders, everyone, and got them to send out pictures... that's pretty impressive."
"It could have been anyone," she supplied quickly, pressing her back into the cushion arm and trying to put as much distance between Arnold and herself as she could on the impossibly tiny couch. Why was her heart beating so loudly?
"No one else, aside from perhaps Gerald, knew those exact details about how I saved the neighborhood," Arnold countered, suddenly serious. "Or how I found Mr. Hyunh's daughter. In fact, not even I know the full details on that one, since as far as Gerald and I know, we never completed Mr. Bailey's Christmas shopping." He narrowed his eyes. "Would you like to fill me in on that one, Helga?"
"Not really," she answered quickly, then snapped her mouth shut at the slip-up.
Arnold smirked victoriously, and oh lord did Helga internally swoon. He uncrossed his arms and leaned it. "See? I knew it was you! Why did you have to deny–"
But Helga had reached her limit of Arnold-nearness, and she couldn't press herself into the couch any farther. His husky voice and handsome face were far too close for her liking, and she could even smell his damn, infernal shampoo under all the chlorine from the pool water. Not to mention Sid and his cheerleader had started getting quite vocal about their kissing. It was too much for Helga to handle. When Arnold leaned in over her, Helga's reflexes kicked in – literally.
One of her navy-clad feet met Arnold's chest and pushed him lightly back into his side of the couch. He fell back with a slight 'oof' and caught the offending object, which just happened to be Helga's ankle. She had half a mind to kick him in face for touching her, but Helga was also blushing like mad, and Arnold seemed surprised to find himself holding her leg.
"Did you... did you really just block me with your foot?" he asked in disbelief.
Helga opened and closed her mouth several times, but she couldn't seem to form an answer. Arnold's hand was warm on her ankle and it was seriously freaking her out to be this close to him. And why was he talking to her as if nothing had happened between them three years ago, as if they were friends? And for the love of cheese why was Arnold still holding her leg?
She mentally slapped some sense into herself and yanked her ankle out of Arnold's hold. "Yeah, so? What of it?" she asked defensively, not knowing what else to say. "It's a free country isn't it?"
Arnold stared at her for a few more seconds before letting out a stream of chuckles. Helga was thoroughly confused and on the verge of an outer monologue meltdown, something she hadn't done in years. She refused to look at his face again.
"Whatever you say, Helga," he agreed amusedly, and she was grateful to note he had settled back into his end of the couch. Arnold coughed and grew serious again. "Look, I know it was a while ago, and while I have hunch about how you did it, I just want to thank you about Mr. Hyunh's daughter. And for the article. It was an incredible essay about me and all of my 'good deeds over the years' and all. I doubt I could have won the election without you, Helga."
"Don't mention it," she muttered, still looking elsewhere.
"But Helga, I don't understand," Arnold continued, sounding frustrated. "Why'd you do it? We haven't spoken in years and you just go and write this heartwarming article about how great of a person I am. It took several reads for me to figure out who wrote it, and I first I couldn't believe it. But when I told Gerald my theory, he just said I had to ask you myself."
Damn you, Tall Hair Boy, she growled.
"So I'm asking you now," Arnold pleaded. "Why did you do it, Helga?"
The pleading tone surprised her, as she figured Arnold had stopped caring about anything that involved her long ago. She didn't have a good answer to his question... 'it's my civic duty' and 'I love a good mystery' didn't really work here (not they had worked before, either). And if Helga had learned anything from her past mistakes with Arnold, it was that she had be blunt and direct. His football-shaped head was as thick as molasses.
"For the same reason I have ever done anything with regards to you, Arnold," she answered in a small voice, pointedly still not looking at him.
It was quiet for a long time, and Helga realized that Sid and his cheerleader had moved elsewhere. She could still hear people down at the pool, but it sounded as if most of them had gone inside. After another few, painfully long minutes, Helga risked a glance at Arnold.
He was staring at her wide-eyed like a fish out of water, and she couldn't help but compare his expression to the one he'd had during her love confession on the FTi building; it was very similar.
Arnold must have realized he was supposed to say something, and he damn better say something, or Helga just might kick him for real. He noticed she was watching him and he cleared his throat.
He shyly ran a hand through his hair. "You mean... you still... after all this time?"
Arnold didn't appear to be mocking her. He sounded genuinely shocked and curious.
Helga could only offer an honest, sad smile. "I'm in love with you Arnold. Always have been, and always will be."
She expected him to rebuff her answer. She expected him to scoff, to claim she was lying, to demand a better, more realistic answer. She didn't expect Arnold to look so terribly guilty. She didn't expect him to lean across the couch again and grab one of her hands.
She didn't expect him to apologize.
"Helga, I'm so sorry," Arnold choked, squeezing her hand. "I... All these years, I've been a terrible person and a horrible friend to you. You tried to tell me your feelings... twice now. And both times, I pushed you away." Her heart went out to him, sitting there looking so dejected. "Helga, I have been such a jerk, and I can't believe it took me this long to realize it."
She gave a little shrug, overwhelmed by his heartfelt apology. "You were a kid, Arnold. It's okay."
"No, it's not okay," Arnold snapped, startling her. "You told me your feelings and I completely snubbed you, Helga. All these years, Gerald and Lila have been dropping hints, but it was just so easy to continue ignoring you... I was a coward."
Helga would have to remind Tall Hair Boy and Little Miss Perfect to mind their own business, but she also knew that they were only trying to help and appreciated their concern. Arnold was still holding her hand and gazing at her nervously, as if she might reject his apology and deck him in the face. As if that were possible. Actually, Helga was more concerned about getting lost in her own fantasies and jumping across the couch to smother him with kisses, which, she admitted to herself, was exactly what she would have done had she still been ten years old.
Instead, she smiled and tugged her hand out of Arnold's grip (the gesture was appreciated, but any sort of 'touching Arnold' still made her extremely giddy and nervous).
"It certainly took you a while, Football Head, but I forgive you."
Arnold was stunned. "Just like that?"
"Just like that," she agreed, then narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "Unless you didn't really mean it..."
"No, no, of course I did!" he hastily responded. Arnold ran a hand through his hair again. "It's just... Helga, I ignored you for three years, and you're still in love with me? I don't get it. If someone did that to me, I'd be furious."
Helga rolled her eyes and wished he wouldn't repeat her feelings so loudly. "I've had three years to be angry and depressed, Arnoldo. I was upset, but I also knew it was my fault that you only thought of me as a bully, since I had done nothing but bully you for years. So I made peace with it; I moved on a long time ago. Yeah, it was hard at first... but I'm okay now. However, I still keep my feelings a secret, so I would appreciate it if you didn't say stuff like that so loudly."
He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Helga."
Unable to think of anything further to say, Helga busied herself by putting her sandals back on her feet. She could feel Arnold watching her the entire time, and if she didn't know any better, she would swear his eyes had roamed over every part of her from her hair to her shoes. Criminy, he's affecting me WAY too much. I need to get out of here NOW before I say or do something I'll really regret.
"So..." Arnold said, filling the silence. "What now?"
What now? What does he mean What Now? Helga anxiously grabbed her notebook and pen. She had just confessed her feelings to Arnold yet again, and while he had finally accepted and believed her, and apologized on top of that, she had no idea what he thought should be happening next. What Helga wanted to do now, was get the hell out of Dodge.
"Well," she announced, standing, "I don't know about you, but it's getting a bit late, and I really should find Lila or something." She saw Arnold stand too and start to follow her towards the house. Shit, he wasn't supposed to follow her! "And you know what, I really have to use the restroom, so, uhh, bye!"
Helga didn't look back to see if Arnold was still behind her, but she had broken into a run across the Lloyd's porch and into their mansion. She slowed a bit to accommodate for the mass of people hanging out inside, but she didn't risk coming to a complete stop. Weaving in and out of the crowds, Helga spotted Lila in the parlor with Marcy and Patty, and she made a beeline straight for the girl. She unapologetically heaved Lila from her seat and pulled the poor girl after her as Helga tore through the large house looking for some form of sanctuary.
After a few minutes of opening random doors (and interrupting a very intimate and disgusting moment between Sid and the cheerleader), they finally came upon an unoccupied small guest bathroom.
"Helga, what ever is going on?" Lila asked with worry.
The blond girl laughed dryly. "'What ever is going on'? Don't act all concerned when you're the one who abandoned me earlier! You left me alone outside on that couch when you and Pheebs know I don't do parties alone."
Lila smiled, amused at Helga's overly dramatic antics. "It's not like we left you out there for the wolves, Helga."
"You might as well have!" she hissed in response. "I'll admit, I was fine for a bit, but then that little pipsqueak came out of nowhere and ambushed me! He starts asking about the newspaper, and here I was hoping he'd still be dumb enough not to put two and two together–"
"Wait, you mean Arnold talked to you?" Lila asked, understanding dawning across her face. She sounded equally anxious and happy about this prospect.
Helga shook the girl's shoulders lightly. "What are you, deaf? The football head figured it all out and cornered me! And then he began pushing at me again and, oh god, Lila, I just confessed my love for him a third time, and he seemed okay with it then but I know once the shock wears off, he's to realize what a basket case I am–"
"HELGA!"
Helga piped down after Lila yelled her name, panting and still squeezing the other girl's shoulders. She quickly let go and clutched at her heart instead, something of an auto-reflex from her days of wearing the Arnold locket. She no longer wore it, but she still had it somewhere in her bedroom (in a sock drawer, tucked away and hidden, because out of sight was supposed to be out of mind).
"Thanks, Lila... I needed that," Helga told her gratefully. "I didn't mean to get carried away."
"It's quite all right," Lila assured. "It sounds like Arnold caught you unaware, and did you say you told him you loved him?" Her eyes were wide.
"Yeah... I know, I know, I'm an idiot. But I couldn't help it! He wouldn't leave me alone," Helga explained, laughing at the situation. "I don't know why Arnold can never accept the first answer; it would make everything so much easier. He... he actually apologized for his previous actions, and oh, right, he mentioned something about you dropping hints?" She glared at her friend.
Lila shrugged and twirled a strand of her hair innocently. "But that's great he apologized, Helga! So what happened next? Did you kiss him again?" she asked eagerly.
"WHAT? Of course NOT," Helga screeched, gripping the sink tightly because she needed something to ground her. "I have way more self control than that!"
Lila wasn't put off in the slightest by Helga's answer. "Oh, sorry. I just figured he might have returned your feelings and kissed you."
Helga winced and sagged against the counter. "Lila, please don't joke about something like that. It was hard enough to sit there next to him while he was talking all wonderfully and smiling and smelling good, and invading my personal space and forcing me to kick him out of it. And then he apologized and accepted that my feelings were real, but Arnold doesn't like me, okay? So please don't joke about it, because... despite all of the years that have passed, I still love him." She sniffed softly. "And even if he knows the truth and accepts my feelings for what they are, he still doesn't return them, nor do I expect him to. And it still hurts."
"I'm ever so sorry, Helga," Lila apologized, putting an arm around her friend. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sure it was ever so hard to deal with all of that." She rubbed Helga's back in a soothing manner. "Wait... did you say you kicked him?"
Helga broke down laughing, partly because it was damn hilarious in hindsight, but also because she was on the verge of crying and needed a distraction. Lila giggled too, and the two girls sat down on Rhonda's fancy bathmat and leaned against the marble of the sink cabinet. Helga filled in the details of how she had kicked Arnold in the chest, and Lila shared her side of the party's events, most of which centered around helping Patty feel comfortable about her body in a swimsuit. Lila had also spotted Phoebe and Gerald strolling through the gardens ("and isn't that ever so romantic, Helga?"). After the two girls had finally calmed down enough to leave the bathroom, they discovered it was time to go home.
Phoebe had texted them both to say that Gerald would be escorting her home and to not wait up, and both Helga and Lila shared happy smiles for their other best friend. Then Patty had found them, and the three had chatted for a while. And before Helga knew it, Lila was heading home for a sleepover with Patty, and Helga was standing alone on Rhonda's front porch, watching everyone else leave in groups and wondering if she should attempt to call Big Bob to come get her.
Once again, she caught sight of Sid out of the corner of her eye, and seriously why was she running into him everywhere tonight? Helga noted with disgust that he had a different girl on his arm. He noticed her staring, and his lady friend noticed too and grew immediately jealous.
As if, Helga gagged.
"Jealous, Pataki?" Sid called, tightening his arm around the girl's waist.
But Helga just smirked and didn't rise to the bait. "Making the rounds I see? This one's definitely prettier than the other," she stated honestly.
Sid blanched and his lady looked furious, but Helga walked off before either of them could say anything.
"Helga!"
She kept walking, but after hearing the footsteps running to catch up, she slowed and looked back, ready to kick Sid in the balls if he tried to start anything.
However, it was not Sid but Arnold that she saw racing to meet her. She tried to calm her increasing heart rate and look as nonchalant as possible. "Football Head," she greeted, turning and continuing her walk down Rhonda's sidewalk. As she expected, Arnold fell into step beside her.
"Hey, Helga, I uhh..." he faltered under her glare. Arnold cleared his throat and seemed to gather up his thoughts, and it prided Helga to know she still had some sort of power over him, because lately it had felt very much the other way around.
"Helga, I just wanted to make sure we're okay," Arnold continued as they left Rhonda's house and headed up the street. "I know you said you're fine, but I just felt it was an awkward end to our conversation, and I really want to be mindful of your feelings this time. If you're upset or want to hit me... or anything, you can tell me."
She was touched by his genuine concern, and her nerves settled a bit. "Thanks, Arnoldo. And yeah... Yeah, we're okay." She smiled warmly at him.
"Uhh..." Arnold merely stared at her, and Helga wondered if something was wrong before he cleared his throat again.
"Right! Well, uhh, that's good," he replied, stumbling over his words.
Criminy, what's his deal? I said I'm fine, now why can't he leave me alone? Helga stopped at a street corner and watched as Arnold did the same. Had he even realized he wasn't headed towards his own house?
"Look, Arnold, I appreciate your apology and all, but really, I'm fine," she stated, crossing her arms. "So stop feeling bad and go on home. I'm sure Geraldo is waiting to give you a call and gush about his night with Phoebe–"
"I'll walk you home," Arnold blurted rather loudly. He must have noticed how taken aback Helga looked, and he blushed and lowered his voice. "I mean, I'd like to walk you home... if that's okay with you."
His offer felt sincere, and Helga didn't know how to respond. She knew that really, she should tell him to leave her alone. Arnold was probably feeling guilty still and so he wanted to make it up to her by being nice, but anything nice he did for her would only make her love him more, which in turn would also make it that much more painful because she knew he would never return her feelings. And if she was ever going to move on, she really needed to distance herself from Arnold.
But being truly honest with herself, Helga couldn't refuse anything Arnold asked of her. She nodded at him, rolling her eyes when he only continued to stare at her. "Well? Move it, Football Head!"
"Whatever you say, Helga."
And as the two of them walked towards the Pataki residence, Helga resolved that she would have to deal with any unpleasant feelings that came from being friends with Arnold, something that, after years and years of watching Arnold fix his mistakes, she knew he would want. But she could handle it. She could be friends with Arnold, even if it wasn't what she knew was logically best for her sanity.
Because she would do anything for Arnold, Helga acknowledged as she glanced at him with a smile. A bittersweet, but very warm feeling spread throughout her when he smiled back.
She was in love, and always would be.
.
The quotes are from "White Flag" by Dido, which I listened to often while writing this.
I know this isn't exactly the update some of you expected or wanted, but this is what my muse threw out. Personally, I'm pleased to have written something these past few days, since it has been months since I updated anything.
I watched Hey Arnold the Jungle Movie recently again, and then I watched some episodes and the 2004 movie, and it all somehow inspired me to write this. Now, this story obviously does not include TJM, but rather picks up sometime after the April Fool's episode. I am a complete fan of Arnold/Helga and totally believe they are meant for each other, but I'm also a realistic person... and often, childhood loves do not work out in the end, and unrequited love can be a depressing thing. So I wanted to write something that focused on Helga dealing with the fallout of Arnold's rejections. I know most of you were hoping for a happy ending, and I personally struggled a few times not to write something romantic.
But if you noticed... I did leave the ending somewhat ambiguous, so that if you want, you can read into it a bit more.