RECIPROCATED LOVE

CHAPTER 1

A THURSDAY EVENING

The memory was still fresh in his mind, sharp, as if it were last week and not years ago. He remembered that her face turned red so quickly that he couldn't help but smile. She seemed shocked. There was no the slightest trace of her smile, that pretty smile that softened her expression; the only emotion her face showered was...shame?

"Criminy, Football Head! … You never before …y…you never…" She stuttered "Why now? A…after all these years…" her eyes were fixed in the ground; her long eyelashes covered her eyes but her embarrassment was palpable "I thought you'd forgotten all that shit" She ended with a mumble. Then looked at him only for a second before looking down again.

'Why now?' he'd asked to himself. 'Because… it's been really hard to gather the guts? ... Because you took it back? ... Or because I need to know right now, to be sure, before...' he wanted to take her by the shoulders and force her to face him right away.

He knew her very well. She could be the meanest of the girls, and at their teens she was worst. That awareness made him to think twice before going on. He knew that if he was mistaken this very scene could be his social suicide. He wasn't sure what to expect from her, even after all these years being close friends and hanging around. Arnold sighed; he was such a fool when he was what? Thirteen? Fourteen?

. . .

All through those past years she had been acting too normal, the same old Helga. She never showed a sign that what he called 'her confession' really meant something to her; never a word, never a look. Had she been kidding? Had he been dreaming? Just some crazy dream about her, like the time he dreamed of marrying her?

And yet, he remembered just once, a year before that or so when, surrounded by the whole gang, they were choosing a sharp leader for a project and she obviously, wanted to be the one, she'd spat "You're such a chump, football head, so naïve... once I almost deceived you!" and that was the only time she admitted FTi proclaim had ever existed. He has never been able to make her talk beyond that.

To that day there have been a few years of confusion and doubts; he must admit to himself that he'd dismissed the event for a while -okay, maybe for a long while- but now he was decided to let things clears; once and forever; and maybe, if she admitted she still love him, they could start up from there.

. . .

He studied her face again; she looked more worried than before. Her head turned back and forth to see the others walking along, making sure they couldn't overhear. She was also sweating. Arnold couldn't tell if it was because their talk given that they had just left the courts where they were playing baseball minutes ago.

"I remember every single word and I wonder if…"

She moved her arms wildly, making him stop.

"Please…" she begged, desperate "…I was only ten… and…" she sighed slowly, taking a look to the others again. Then, closed her eyes and looked like she berating herself. An almost inaudible mumble left her mouth "I... I... alright... I think I had a little crush on you back then but …" Helga threw a quick, doubtful glance to him, "I…I don't know how I could made such a … statement… and …and…" her voice changed "How you dare to bring it on now, Football Head, after all this time! We are not the same. That time is over... Besides, you never give me the slightest hint that told me you were interested. You didn't asked for time... didn't give any kind of response…Heck! You didn't even seemed to acknowledge me." she gasped "To me, the entire thing is forgotten and buried by now!" she ended, hyperventilating, then slowly she turned ahead and kept her gaze over the guys walking in front of them.

"You were a very bold girl..." he dared to say with a smile "...and I think that was a very nice thing from you…" He hesitated. He really knew where he wanted to go, so he had to think well his words "I'm sorry for the way I acted …back then and… all these years, but…"

"Please, Arnold…" she took a deep breath before going on "I was always ashamed. I always thanked you in silence for never bringing it on"

Nervously, her hand went over and took out the catcher's mask from the top of her head, tearing the rubber that kept her hair tied and subsequently releasing it from the ponytail.

Her hair fell like a golden cascade over her face and shoulders. The scent of her shampoo invaded him. Arnold kept her eyes on her, observing the way her long eyelashes trembled; her lips pouted before drawling her famous: "Criminy!" she reduced the pace, cursing the torn rubber and making a face to the ground; then resumed the pace, tossing the mask in Arnold's hands, taking the hair away from her face and trying to tie it again with the pink ribbon from her usual bow. Arnold was close enough to see those thin fair hairs on her reddish skin, the small drops of sweat all over her face.

When she took a small towel from her pocket to wipe the sweat from her neck and face, Arnold's jaw fell. There was something about an agitated girl raising her arms and stretching her neck that just... he held his breath... some golden locks sailed with the wind. There was something about her that made him lose every reasoning and only being aware of his perceptions. He could even feel the heat of her body and smell her scent. The actual, adult Arnold, could see in that thirteen years old Helga the amazing woman she'd became through the years. She was tall, slender, blonde, blue eyed… a reluctant cliché; but she was still smart, witty, willful, sophisticated (whenever she liked) and strong.

Helga opened her eyes to see the gangly boys walking ahead, somewhat intensely; they were carrying their baseball items and eventually turned back to see the others. She let out a long sigh and then looked into Arnold's eyes. "I thought we had an understanding, Football Head!" her voice was stronger. "That … thing … never happened" The blonde girl seemed to have gained composure when a smirk crossed her face.

"That's not true and you know it" Arnold reacted with annoyance "It did happen…" She tried to cut him with her bossy way, but he was tired of the waiting (mostly by his own selfish interest, to be true) but now he was decided and he was acting. He won't let her to go with some lame excuse.

"Sheeesh! And right now you just want to talk about it... and I had to agree?" Helga's eyes threw daggers at him "... as if you deserve it!"

She took a glance over the boys ahead them, Iggy was talking happily to Brainy, who was turning to look back at them with some serious expression. Arnold suddenly stopped, grabbing her arm.

"Forget about them! We need to talk and I don't care about them…."

"But I do care" she said with hostility and pulled her arm, resuming her walking.

Harold and half of the boys behind them were waving and saying goodbye. Helga waved back. Arnold passed a hand over his hair, exhaling.

"Helga… all I want to know if you … if you really lo…if you really meant it?" He could see the way her eyes opened widely and a fast jolt crossed her shoulders; he used this sign to go on before she could react "...you accuse me because I never said a thing, because I never gave away anything, but you did the same. All through these years you never gave anything away. I even came to think that it has been a dream, that I was crazy and how could be possibly that you, Helga G. Pataki of all the people, was in love with me. I was shocked! I don't know if you are able to understand it. You were always calling me names; playing me pranks, abusing me, laughing at me…I was really confused. I spent all that weekend and the days after trying to reconcile all what I just knew... but then, on next Monday you were just like that..." he overextended his arms "The same old Helga, my tormentor; the very girl that used to make me feel like a fool. And all over again: the spitballs, the abuse, the pranks... I spent weeks just looking out for any trace of true in your words…for any…kindness..." His voice faded.

Helga was looking at the ground, so he couldn't see her expression.

He kept walking, looking ahead and then to the ground, and finally at Helga at his side. A couple of minutes had passed, Helga now seemed hesitant… fearful? Her fingers twitched. She opened her mouth, but not sound emerge. Arnold knew that he was in serious trouble, because in spite that her answer was really a big deal, right now he just wanted to crush his lips against hers.

"Why it's important to you?" She asked with soft voice, her gaze still on the ground, her eyes covered by her hair, and yet, for a fleeting second, he saw her lips curving in a cruel smirk.

He felt as if a keg of cold water was poured onto him. He felt exposed all of a sudden, almost as if he was naked in mid street.

God! What was he thinking? That Helga still loved him? Ha! That she loved him once?

His stomach become rigid, all the blood in his body left him. He could even feel like raising himself up all over the scene and able to see them down there, walking side by side. The stupid football headed boy, still shorter than her, and the beauty to be. And he could also see the now open smirk, the ready sneer in her face.

This was Helga, for God's sake! The same girl every boy still feared in the schoolyard. He never knew how he managed to calm himself and find his voice.

"Come on, my dear Helga... you aren't that green, are you?" He surprised himself with this unknown voice "To show-off to the boys, of course; laugh for a while, you know..." he forced a smirk, his voice quivered a little "Everyone needs to be vain every once in a while. To carry on the count of broken hearts …" they were arriving to the corner where Helga used take her own path. Arnold didn't know how in hell he was able to keep walking. He was not there anymore.

Helga stopped and turned to him.

"I'm off of your count, you know" the deep eyes looked at him bravely, the voice cold. "My heart was never broken, at least not by you. And your so called 'confession' was four years ago, for God's sake!" Arnold was surprised because her composed voice, her nonchalant manners, the slight smile because it didn't matched the mocking expression from before. "Don't you dare to go and tell everything to your pals! It'd be a lie and I don't think it'd be wise to be vain of a little girl old broken heart. And for God's sake, are you going to admit before them that you let "the Goldess" escape from your hands?" She took her items back and pulled a false smile to her face. "Idiot!"

He froze in the spot, seeing the blonde girl crossing the street with her elastic pace and calling out to the boys to wait for her. Iggy smiled and then waved them. Brainy keep his sight on Arnold and made an almost imperceptible nod, before walk away with Helga. Arnold's mind was frantic although his body was still. He couldn't believe what had just happened, He had been looking for this chance for so long, and now he was frozen in his place, unable to take his eyes off the blonde couple; or even to discern if her mocking was real or illusory.

.

.

But right now, lying in his bed, waiting in his room, his mind continued lost in memories. The ball fell back and he took it expertly with his bare hand, and then threw it up again towards the ceiling, absent minded, the green eyes half lidded in Arnold's full grown face.

The reddish sunlight of the fresh evening leaked through the skylight, but he was not able to notice it. More memories ran to his mind: A preteen Helga holding his head and kissing him at the roof of FTi building. He smiled at the sight of her wearing a bride dress running behind them at Hillwood Graveyard. The blonde teenage almost making out with Harold in front of the complete baseball team at Mighty Pete's tree house...

Helga had always been feisty. She never turned down a challenge, even if it'd end humiliating her. Like the time when, at sixteen, she was dancing over his table...well, over 'the boys table' at Rhonda's Halloween Dance. Or the occasion when she was all smiles and tight dances with Jamie O at the last Christmas Ball. The cause of this bizarre scene was still unknown for him and even for Gerald. Jamie O was already divorced by that time and he was really unusual as Helga's date. They spent the complete evening together and didn't share their partner with anybody else. Arnold knew he wasn't the only one disappointed that night.

Like he said before, physically Helga was a cliché, now more than never. At High School she was the perfect semblance of a cheerleader; but she wasn't that kid of girl. Cheerleader labors fitted alright to girly girls, like Ruth or Lila, but not to Helga, no. She fought for a place in the male baseball varsity team, and of course, she got it. She had endured the hostility and the teasing of the older players and the gossiping of the girls. But she had emerged stronger after that; she even learned to use her femininity to flirt to the opposite team's and take advantage in the games.

. . .

And then, his favorite memory: he, Arnold, having Helga pinned down below him on the grass, holding down her wrists, her arms outstretched on either side. The sight of those amazing eyes, her agitated face and her golden hair spilled over the green grass, panting hardly, looking at him and knowing she had been defeated and was completely at his mercy. The memory hit him with force. Even now, at his twenty one, he still struggled to control his reactions to this mere remembrance. For an eternal moment, he just stared down at her, mesmerized.

He perfectly knew the position they were in. His breath became superficial. She was irresistible and he was just a healthy young boy, with the most longed object right under him, beating. He propped over, smelling her scent and then reaching for her lips. He lost his mind at the taste of her; at the heat of her inert body. He'd pressed her against the ground with his full weight to get a response and getting a faded groan, that served him to get into her mouth; He'd let go her wrists to take his hands to her sides. He groaned when she finally kissed him back and brought her arms around his neck, arching herself against him. He was going crazy. Normally he was a very decent, controlled boy but right then he knew he couldn't stop himself; the burning sensation in his lower body told him he was lost. And for an eternal, blissful while he was indeed lost.

. . .

"Arnold, man!" Arnold remembered they were interrupted by Gerald, but he dismissed him to keep living the memory. It was so real, so vivid. He wished to be able to blow his friend away when his shoulder was poked. In a second, he stood up from the bed where he was lying upside down over his pillow and turned around to find Gerald showing his all teeth. "Sorry mate, but you needed it! Phil's comin' ova". Gerald picked up the pillow. "Helga?" he asked with a big grin before relocate it in its right place. "Buddy, you should do something about her, or at least, to get a girl to satisfy you!" then snickered again as he usual did "Shit! …forgot you already have a girlfriend!"

"Shut up!" Arnold pushed him in his way to the closet to change his shirt. Gerald was still laughing at him.

"I think you might change your jeans too!" he teased.

Arnold growled.

"Gerald..."

"I know I know… 'Nobody needs to know'. You know about my discretion, don't you? But if you want an advise… or even if you don't want it, Arnold, my man. You need to talk to her, I mean, she's twenty-one and she's the best damn thing around even when she tries to keep a low profile. I don't know, any given day she could just throw us that she's moving in...with someone else... You know what I mean. Besides, what do you could lose? It won't be the first time you get a no for an answer".

Phil entered at the room before Arnold could respond -not that he needed to think about what Gerald said. It was just the same thing he had been thinking about the last years. Phil asked them if they're going to the same place they went every Thursday since they had turned age when they were in Hillwood. Their Thursday's night, an only men night's out.

"Yes, Grandpa" Arnold nodded while buttoned his jeans "Romántico's is a very nice bar. The best music, HDTV and all the beer you like."

"Ole Román is a good friend" Gerald added, talking about the owner and bartender of the place, a tall Mexican guy with a big mustache. "The gang loves in there it is men-only, you know what that mean" Gerald's brow wiggled as he winked to Phil.

"Yeah, I know, a old fashioned place only for los machos" Phil said with a hint of envy in his voice. Phil was still a strong man at his ninety-three, but to going to a bar was an unnecessary fatigue to him. "Well, I hope you enjoy yourselves this evening, and don't drink too much, it couldn't do any good for you"

Arnold was expecting a commentary on the lines of 'who were young, thirsty and in a hurry' but none came. He smiled to him and said goodbye, reassuring him that they were good boys before going downstairs and leaving the house followed by Gerald.

Published: July 30th, 2010.

Edited: September 25th, 2013. I'm going over the entire story to reedit it.

I don't Own Hey Arnold!

I don't know any other Trade Mark mentioned here or in the rest of the story. They're here only to background purposes.

I only own the OC and this plot. This will be a long story, you are warned.

I hope you like it. If you do, please review.

Thanks to you all people who are still reading, reviewing or marking this story as favorite. Your reviews brighten my days.

Drawings are UrielManX7's work. Here's the link to see them complete in DA.

art/Portrait-Reciprocated-Love-by-Sandra-Strickland-428758726

If the link is cut you always can look for Uriel's work.