Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!
Chapter 1
There she is.
Helga G. Pataki.
She quickly places the bill on a table that a family of four is seated at, and she takes off for another table. It's another busy day at the diner.
She's changed since elementary school, and maybe it has to do with Arnold's disappearance. She no longer has one eyebrow, but two. Her hair was now falling passed her shoulders in soft waves, throwing the memory of her pigtails out of her mind. She isn't sure where her pink ribbon went. That was lost somewhere along with her will to write.
Given up on writing and ignoring the fact that she has a degree in English, Helga works in a small diner surrounded by the smell of tobacco in one room and the lack of it in another. She's used to it and goes home, coughing until she vomits. She's tired, and that's just it. She's always tired. This is all she does.
She works here,
She goes home,
She tries to eat,
She sleeps,
And she repeats.
She's become an outsider, and she has finally come to terms with that. She's a waitress who probably still has feelings for her childhood crush. Well, did she? Helga wasn't quite sure herself. She'd been obsessed with the boy for what seemed like forever.
And there were her friends.
Phoebe had sent her a wedding invitation for her and Gerald's wedding last week. That was going to occur in a couple of weeks. Originally, she had asked Helga to be her maid of honor, but Helga declined. Lila marched up to Helga's door and attempted to coax her into accepting. It hadn't worked. The three had become really close in high school, but it began to die down as soon as Helga dated him.
"Helga, babe, I know you like to write, but no one even reads anymore. I don't like reading. No one likes reading. Why do you even continue to write?"
Helga had broken up with him several days later, but his words remained in her head. Why did she write anymore? She focused on English and creative writing in college anyways. I mean, she might as well excel in what she's great in, right? Right?
"Helga, sweetie," One of her elder coworkers says sweetly, gaining the blonde's attention. "Can you please handle the man over there?" She points at a table where man is sitting alone, and Helga's heart stops.
"Sure," She says weakly.
She approaches the table, and she's right. She isn't hallucinating. The man has a football-shaped head, and tufts of wheat-colored hair are sprouting up from the top. He looks at her, and she notices that his eyes are a perfect shade of green. The man, who Helga seems to be hypnotized by, notices her lovely pools of sapphire.
Is this what they call love at first sight?
"I'm Helga, and I will be your waitress this evening," She stammers, and she realizes that she's never been this shy or nervous before. "Do you know what you would like to drink?"
"Water is fine." He turns to look through the menu. She doesn't leave immediately. Instead, she looks at him curiously. Water? Really?
"Are you sure you just want water?" She asks, raising a brow. "We do have other drinks, you know."
"Yes," He says, giving her an amused look. "I just want water, Helga."
Maybe it's the way he says her name. He says it almost too sweetly like her name is his favorite candy. Maybe it's the twinkle in his eye that she notices as she's turning. She's not quite sure exactly what it is that makes her practically float back to the kitchen.
The man is silently chuckling, ignoring that he has to search through the menu to order. Yes, that was Helga. Phoebe was right about her working here. Did he want to jump up, hug his waitress, and yell?
"Helga! Remember me, Arnold? I'm back! I'm back!"
Yes…
And no.
He's only here for the wedding in a couple of weeks. He knew of Helga's crush. He knew that getting her excited over him being here would hurt her in the end. But… She looks completely destroyed now, and part of him feels like it is his fault. After gazing into her eyes, he noticed that the spark was gone.
It was like she was gone and replaced by a robot.
"Here's your water," Arnold jumps slightly and watches her place a glass in front of him. "Do you know what you'd like to order?"
"Uh," He hesitates slightly. "Not really… I've never been here before. Do you know what's good?"
"I guess?" Helga says and shrugs slightly. She points him to a sandwich and after several moments, Arnold orders. When Helga finally returns with his food, he shocks her with a question.
"Do you write?" He asks, hoping to see the side of Helga that was passionate about writing. He'd seen it a day that they had been together at the park. That was the same time he developed feelings for the girl. "I'm sorry. You just seem the type of person." He sees her hesitate and realizes that this is not the Helga he used to know.
"I used to," She says with a sigh, and she doesn't notice that she sits down across from him. He begins to slowly eat his food because he wants to leave. He doesn't want to hurt her. "I asked most of the people that I knew several years ago if they even liked reading. Out of everyone I asked, maybe only one of them did. Why should I do something that no one really cares for?"
"But you care for it," Arnold pipes up. This is definitely not the Helga he used to know. "If you like it, that's all that matters, right? Do you love writing?"
"Yes, I did. But—"
Did it make you happy?"
"Of course! But—"
"Then why not start writing again?"
This time, Helga doesn't speak. She remembers him. She remembers reading through everything after the breakup and realizing that maybe everything wasn't good enough. She remembers her room remaining the same every time she visits, which isn't very often. Books with her scribbles are stacked in every corner of the room, practically begging her to write more.
"Helga," He says softly, pulling her out of her thoughts. "May I have my bill? I'm going to pay up front." She pulls it out of her pocket and hands it to him. He takes the bill with one hand and uses his other to hold hers. "Write again. Please. I'll see you at the wedding."
He turns and walks over to the counter to pay. Inside, Helga is screaming. I'll see you at the wedding? She gulps, realizing who that was. Arnold. Deep down, she can hear her child voice swooning and yelling.
"Oh, Arnold!"
Is this weird? What happened to Helga? Oh my! Anyways, I was listening to Say You Like Me by We The Kings, and I guess I came up with this idea. I, actually, myself have been harassed by an ex-boyfriend about my writing. Now, I'm happily dating who I believe to be my soul mate, and he encourages my writing. But! Enough about me.
Love you, darlings! :-)
