It's been over two years since I updated this story. Sorry guys!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!
Besides Phoebe, no one else really knew where or why Helga had up and left Hillwood. The day after Arnold, Gerald, and surprisingly Helga had saved the neighborhood, word had spread. It came as a surprise to Helga's classmates at P.S. 118 that she had left. For some, it was a great relief. For one little boy in particular, however, it was confusing. The summer dragged on until finally it was time to go back to school.
"What do you mean she just left?!" A worried Arnold asked Phoebe after school the first day of fifth grade.
"Well, she didn't tell me where they were going…" the Japanese girl began flustered, glancing around the empty school grounds.
"I've been worried! I never saw her after that day we saved the neighborhood… She, she left with Olga?" Arnold continued.
"Arnold, what do you mean 'we'?" She looked at him curiously.
'The way he said 'we' sounded off.' Phoebe thought.
"Huh? Oh, Gerald and I saved the neighborhood…" Arnold looked down at the school's blacktop, nervously.
'Should I tell Phoebe? I don't know! Would Helga want me to say anything to anyone? Should I just keep it a secret between Helga and me?'
"Yes, she left with Olga. Arnold, I don't mean to pry, but is there something you want to tell me?" Phoebe took note of his unsure demeanor.
Arnold looked up, somewhat surprised at Phoebe's perceptiveness. "Uh, I- I'm not quite sure. I'm still trying to put together why she left. Why she didn't at least say goodbye?" He looked at Phoebe then back down at the faded foursquare line dejectedly.
"I can't tell you, Arnold. I'm not Helga. But, I'm sure she had her reasons. She had to have been going through a difficult time." Phoebe tried to console her friend.
He sighed, unsure of what to say.
"If it makes you feel any better Arnold, she gave me this to give to you." Phoebe rifled in her book bag for a moment and pulled an envelope out.
Arnold's mind and heart lifted a bit as he saw the sealed envelope in the girl's hand. Helga's handwriting clear on the envelope front only addressed to 'Arnold' in purple ink.
"I think you may find some answers here, I'm really sorry I couldn't ease your anxiety any more than this, Arnold." She looked sadly at him.
'I'm sorry Arnold; I can't tell you everything I want. I promised Helga.' Phoebe wiped the tears that had accumulated at the corners of her eyes.
"I don't know how to thank you Phoebe, I mean I know this envelope isn't much, but it's something." He took the envelope from her hand. For the first time since Helga left, Arnold smiled.
Phoebe shook her head, freeing herself from those gloomy memories. She got up from her bed to get ready to meet Helga at her and Olga's new apartment. Grabbing a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers, she brushed her long black hair. She opted for contacts more often now than her glasses. Phoebe examined herself in her bedroom mirror, everything looked in place.
'Arnold was never the same after she left.' Phoebe thought to herself. 'I don't think he realizes how much of an impact she had on him, even now.'
She sighs, running down the stairs. Phoebe quickly writes down a note for her parents telling them where she'll be and to call her cell if they need anything. She grabs some breakfast before running out the door with her bag to the bus stop to meet up with her best friend. It was going to be a long day.
"Where are you, Arnold, where?" Helga appears in front of Arnold still the rough fourth grader he remembers.
"I'm right here, but what are you doing here, Helga?" He looks around at the unreal surroundings, like something out of a Salvador Dalí painting.
"How could you?" She questions, looking upset.
"What did I do, Helga?" Arnold asks her walking towards her but seemingly getting no closer.
"You need to figure it out, football head!" She turns around and transforms into a bizarre butterfly.
"Wait!" He shouts, hoping she will come back.
"Arnold…Arnold...Arnold. I needed you." He turns around only to face an empty windowless room.
"Who are you?" The voice gets louder still calling out to him.
"Arnold…Arnold…I need you…"
"Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold!" A 17 year old Arnold reaches for his potato alarm clock in frustration.
"What the heck was that all about?!" Arnold sits up in his bed fully, noting the sheen of sweat now covering his skin. He's had this recurring dream nearly every month since Helga left. He looks at the alarm clock; 7:30am.
"Ugh, why doesn't it ever change? Why am I still having that dream, it's been seven years for goodness sake!" He whispers to himself now, not wanting to accidentally wake the other borders. He lifts the sheets back and gets out of bed. He looks around his bedroom. It really hasn't changed save for current pictures of his friends on the walls. He looks to the new music system he got for his birthday this year from his grandparents, smiling. His grandparents were amazing to him as ever. His eyes drift to the small pink book with the letter from Helga leaning on it on the top of his bookshelf, his smile falters.
"It has to be her pink book…" Clearing his throat and mind, he grabs the letter from the shelf and sits down on his bed. He opens the worn envelope and takes out the letter, feeling regretful. Once again, he finds himself reading the now pale purple letters.
Arnold,
By the time you read this, I will be out of the Hillwood and in my new place. I know I left a lot of things uneasy between us football head. I know leaving Phoebe with the burden of delivering this letter to you was just as hard on her as it was...never mind. I can understand how shocking it must have been for you, after my "heat of the moment" confession on top of the FTi building. I have regrets of course. I know you've always been there for me even when I was bullying you, bucko.
The letter goes on, and Arnold turns over the second page, tears welling in his eyes unconsciously.
You've always…anyways, I wanted to say I'm sorry. I helped you save the neighborhood, and ran away... I'm not one to get all mushy but I'm sorry.
Helga G. Pataki
P.S. If you ever show this to anyone you're dead, runt.
P.S.S. Not a word to anyone not even Gerald-o, football head.
He laughs out loud at the post script, wiping the tears away.
'That damn letter always makes me tear up. Why do I bother re-reading it? That's so lame of me. But the end always cracks me up! She must have trusted me a lot to not say anything though. There is so much more I need to talk to her about. Geez, I wonder what Gerald would think if he knew what really happened that night on top of the FTi building.' He smiles slightly and gets up, grabs some clean clothes and sets the letter into a drawer next to his bed. He walks down to the washroom.
"I hope the borders haven't gotten to it yet. Freakin' Kokoschka takes forever!" With a bit of luck Arnold finds the washroom empty. He takes a long shower and after dressing, walks back to his room. He has decided to wear dark blue jeans, a grey band t-shirt and black flip flops. He messes with his usually unruly hair. By the time he makes it back inside his room, he's gotten it to where it's satisfactory. The heat already begins beating down on him. Arnold flips a switch on the outlet near his door and the window panes go from crystal clear to opaque. The room begins to cool down.
'I'm sure happy I invested in smart glass for the sky lights.' He sighs in content. Arnold sits at his desk, turns on his computer and checks his emails; nothing good there. He double checks the bus schedule. He gets up to check his bag. Arnold sits back down and turns it back off. He grabs his cell to call Gerald to get him up. After the first call fails to rouse his best friend, he calls again.
"Hello?" A voice croaks.
"Hey Gerald, you're not up yet buddy?" Arnold looks at his clock; it reads 8:16am.
"Gimme another hour, man." Gerald hoarsely whines.
"Gerald, come on! We've had these plans for a month! Get your butt up and meet me at the boarding house in 20!" Before Gerald has a chance to respond, the line goes dead.
"Damn, he must have had a bad night." Gerald gets up and ready to meet Arnold.
"Hey, Helga! What was the apartment number again?" Phoebe asks into her cell phone walking up the flight of stairs.
"Hey, Pheebs. It's 305. Ah, I see you! Over here!" Helga whispers her friend over from the stairwell.
Phoebe hangs up and walks over to her friend's apartment door.
"I'm happy you found the complex okay. Come on in! Olga is already on her way to work." Helga ushers her friend into the sparse apartment.
"Oh, it wasn't a problem. The truck hasn't come yet, I take it?" Phoebe looks around smiling.
"Nope, it's not showing up until 10am or so they say. You want something to drink?" Helga offers, walking towards the kitchen.
"Yes please, water is fine." Phoebe follows after her taller friend.
"So, I know it's been a long time since you laid eyes on Hillwood. Does anything stand out as being different than what you remember so far? Phoebe takes the paper cup, thankfully.
"Well, I did notice Slausen's got a face-lift. I think it's pretty good looking, not that it wasn't good before. I like the polished look of it though." Helga puts her own cup down.
"Maybe later we can head over there for a celebratory ice cream." Phoebe finishes her drink and sets it down for later.
"Oh, you know it! I missed those sundaes." Helga is practically drooling at the thought of them.
"Haha, really?" Phoebe chuckles at Helga's expression.
"Yeah, I am serious! I mean, I never appreciated the place when I was younger, but I sure missed it after I left." A sad smile appeared on Helga and Phoebe's faces.
"I know I've asked you this before Helga, never mind." Phoebe looks away, observing the wooden floors in the apartment.
"What is it, Pheebs?" Helga looks at her with interest, then frowns slightly remembering that they had said those two words.
Ice Cream.
"Phoebe, look, just ask me what you want to ask. I promise I won't bite your head off." Helga smirks.
"Haha, ok, ok." She laughs."Well…do you ever think about resolving this thing between Arnold and yourself?" Phoebe looks at Helga hopefully.
Helga raises her eyebrows in surprise, and then coughs. "Uhh…I wasn't expecting that question. But, I really don't know. I mean, yeah I think about it. I feel like I can't face him after leaving him that lame letter. That by the way was the stupidest thing I could have done." Helga closes her eyes and breathes deeply, trying to calm herself from the thought of confronting Arnold. She begins pacing around the presently empty living room. Phoebe leans against the wall, listening to her best friend pour out her heart.
"I feel like such a fool. I know it's silly of me to still be so in love with him. Silly for me to be so caught up in that incident with him. Phoebe I just can't explain it. As cheesy as this is going to sound, he was always the sunshine in my life or at least in the darkest parts. There's just something about him, I can't find the words to express how he makes me feel. Of all the guys in the world, my heart chose him. I have no idea if he ever felt anything more than a friendly liking towards me. Here I am, stuck in the past. I still feel like that scared nine, no ten year old sometimes. I'm sure he's already had a few girlfriends. I was so happy when you told me Lila moved back home in fifth grade. Stupid lil' miss oh too perfect. But, here I am. I've gone on a few dates here and there. Sure. They never felt right, as trivial as that may sound. So, here I am boyfriend less at 17. "
She pauses a moment before continuing.
"Like that will even matter in a year. God, we're going to college in another year already, Phoebe. That scares the shit out of me. Looking at the big picture, and not seeing him in my life…in some way…it makes me feel empty. I'm sure he forgot all about me after I left. He probably was so happy to see me leave. Phoebe… am I too far gone?" Helga covers her wet face with her hands and crouches down in the middle of the living room.
Phoebe walks over and kneels down holding her fragile friend. "Helga, he's not like that. He's better than a lot of guys out there. He wouldn't stay mad at you; he was actually very depressed after you left. If anything, he's more hurt than angry. The circumstances around leaving him that letter were hard for everyone involved. Like I said before, he seemed genuinely happy you wrote a letter to him. We both know he didn't understand, but that's why you need to discuss this road block of an issue…" Phoebe looks away and under her breath, "…for both of you."
"Thanks Phoebe. What would I do without you here?" Helga wipes away the tears running down her face, looking at her friend.
"Totally be outta luck when the truck comes." Phoebe busts out laughing. Helga joins in.
"You smart ass." Helga grabs facial tissue out of her bag, and walks into the bathroom to blow her nose and wash her face.
"I'm just unsure of how things will go when the time comes." Helga walks out of the bathroom drying her face.
"You'll never know if you don't try, Helga." Phoebe watches her friend calm down.
"I know, Pheebs. I just don't want to screw up things more than they already are between Arnold and me. You know how I used to get around him. What if I revert back to that?" Helga looks distraughtly at Phoebe.
"You've changed and matured, Helga. You aren't that little girl anymore. Just keep yourself in check. If he really is this important to you, you'll have make the effort. He's still the same Arnold. Sure, he's grown but his personality is even now as caring and honest as it ever was. You need to talk to him about this…it really left an impression on him. I know he'll want answers too." Phoebe looks to Helga resolutely.
"Yeah, you're right. It's not like he could ever resist helping people or quench his curiosity for answers." Helga looked out the kitchen window, out to the brilliant blue sky.
After another hour of talking with Phoebe, the truck comes more or less on time.
"Hey, HEY!" Gerald shouts at Arnold's sleeping form next to himself on the bus.
"What? What? I'm up!" Arnold jolts up from his seat in a panic.
"Dude, we're here finally!" Gerald stands stretching his legs in the now empty bus.
"Ah, sweet, there's nothing like the beach to improve one's mood." Arnold smiles at the view.
"Sure, that's why two single straight guys go to the beach together…to watch the shore line. Mmm, mm, mmm. Arnold, you need a hobby…or a girlfriend." Gerald winks at him.
"Seriously Gerald? Is there anything else besides girls in that brain of yours?" Arnold looks at him annoyed.
"Duh, there are sports in here too." Gerald knocks on his head lightly.
"Oh wow, so diverse. " Arnold sarcastically remarks.
They make their way off the bus and down to the beach, hitting the rent-an- umbrella stand on the way.
"Whoa, that girl's got some nice—oof!" Gerald's midsection collides with a fallen surfboard.
"Look where you're going, not were the girls are going." Arnold scolds.
'Why is it that he's such a horndog? I like looking at a girl or two but damn. It's like he's never seen a girl before.' Arnold thinks to himself.
"Is here good?" Gerald asks, still eyeing other young women.
"Sure, this works." He sets down his stuff and adjusts the rented beach umbrella.
They strip down to their trunks and spray sunscreen onto themselves. Gerald makes himself comfortable to do his chick watching under the umbrella. Arnold shakes his head and heads to the water.
'That cloud looks like an ice cream cone…man; I haven't had Slausen's in ages. That sounds really good now. Dang. Maybe I can convince Gerald to head over there after we leave the beach.' Arnold thinks once reaching the water. He jumps in after about fifteen minutes. After a good twenty minutes, he walks back to Gerald and decides to build a sandcastle nearby.
"Arnold, why don't you chick watch with me?" Gerald looks away from his watching for a moment to look at his friend.
"Mmm." Arnold grunts quietly and continues building.
'I don't have an interest in chick watching. It's crude and degrading to women. Building sandcastles make me think of…things. Ok, yeah. They make me think of Helga. Sandcastles make me go to a simpler time in my life. Helga really did help me out that summer with dealing with Summer. No, no! I'm here to relax, not sulk over the memories of one girl. But, why can't I forget about her?' Arnold futilely concentrates harder on his sandcastle.
'Man, that boy's got some issues.' Gerald looks over at Arnold, who is still hard at work on his sandcastle. An hour or so later, Gerald gets up and walks over.
"Hey Arnold, you want me to grab you something at the food shack?" Gerald asks, noticing a determined look on his best friends face.
"Huh? Oh yeah a couple fish tacos and a shrimp taco would be great." He stops for a moment and digs out a few bills from his wallet in his bag.
Gerald takes the bills and watches his friend for a moment longer before shrugging and walking off to grab them food.
'That's it; I need to get Phoebe to get into contact with Helga for me. I can't keep living with this self-reproach. It's going to tear me apart. It may seem like such a small thing, but to me it's still up in the air; even if she's forgotten all about it. I doubt that somehow though. She wouldn't make the effort to write that letter if it was all for naught…' Arnold was too in thought that he didn't see Gerald coming back with the small paper bag of food.
"Arnold, I've returned with sustenance. C'mon and dig in." Gerald hangs the bag in front of Arnold's face.
Arnold slaps the bag away startled at first, and then crawls over to grab it. "Sorry Gerald, I didn't even hear you." They walk back to the shelter of the umbrella and begin eating.
"What the heck were you thinking about that you got so out of whack?" Gerald asks in between bites of food.
Arnold coughs on his food and clears his throat. "Uh, what are you talking about? I was just thinking about how good Slausen's ice cream is." He looked off towards the crashing waves not wanting to meet Gerald's eyes.
Gerald shakes his head. "Dude, I know you weren't thinking about Slausen's. You're still an awful liar. You know…if anything's bugging you, you can talk to me right?" Gerald looks sincerely at Arnold.
Arnold looks back at his best friend. "Yeah Gerald, I know. It just seems like such a stupid thing to be so hung up on. It would make me look so insane. I can't really figure it out -"
Gerald interrupts him, "It's about a girl, isn't it?"
"What?!" Arnold's widen and his face reddens with embarrassment.
"Do you think in all the years that you've been my best friend, I wouldn't notice when something or someone is bothering you?" Gerald throws his food wrappers into the brown paper bag.
"You're right Gerald. It is about a girl again. Not just any girl though, it's about… Helga. I just can't let it go." His face darkens.
"I can talk to Phoebe; she did say she had plans with an old friend today." Gerald looks up thoughtfully.
"I think it's something I need to do on my own. I'll text her in a minute." Arnold grabs his phone from his bag and throws his trash into the brown paper bag as well.
'Hey, Phoebe. Do you think I could give you a call about something?'
Arnold waits a few minutes before his phone goes off.
'Sure, but right now isn't a good time. How about 7pm?'
He reads the message, curious.
'Yeah, that's cool. Ttyl.'
"What'd she say?" Gerald asks.
"She said I can call her later tonight. Guess she's busy right now. No problem though. I can't wait a few more hours." Arnold places his phone back into his bag.
After a few more hours at the beach, they return the umbrella and head back on the bus to Hillwood. Once on the bus again, Arnold stares out the window.
"Hey Gerald?" Arnold glances back at his friend in the seat behind him.
"Yeah?" Gerald looks up from his sports magazine.
"Let's stop at Slausen's when we get back into town." Arnold says it more as a statement than a question.
"Sure man." Gerald smiles. 'Poor sick boy.' He sighs and continues reading.
"Pheebs, can you move that box over?" Helga huffs as she waits and places the last box onto the kitchen counter.
"I can't believe how fast the movers came in with the furniture." Phoebe says, dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief.
"Yeah, these guys are pretty good at what they do." Helga grabs the cups of water for Phoebe and herself.
"Here Phoebe." Helga hands her the cup. She drinks her own and fills it again with water.
"Thanks, Helga." She smiles and takes the cup gratefully.
"I really appreciate you coming out to help me today, since Olga had to work." Helga smiles brightly at her friend.
"No problem Helga, I'm more than happy to help you out." Phoebe smiles back, just then her phone goes off signaling a text. She pulls it out of her bag and replies.
"Is Gerald texting you again?" Helga smirks.
"No, he's not texting me; just another friend." Phoebe says normally.
Helga sits down on the couch finishes her cup of water. "Ah, cool." Helga responds.
"Most definitely, I'm so beat!" Phoebe tiredly flops down onto the other side of the couch.
After Phoebe finishes with her phone, Helga asks, "Sooo…you up for some ice cream?"
Thanks for reading, and please review! Next update will be sooner than later. .
Stay tuned!
A.n.E
