All your kind they're comin' clean

They shut their eyes, their mess, their scenes

All your kind, their spool and lance

Their crash, their kiss, they harmonize

All your kind they, all your kind they

All your kind they're comin' clean

They sleep through keys, they kill their needs

It's killed

KC Accidental, by Broken Social Scene

School in full swing. Helga fretted, an emotion that was almost constant in her life but magnified a thousand times now. A million times.

She sat in the back of class, far away from her usual seat behind Arnold, and she was doodling randomly on a sheet of paper whilst Mr. Simmons droned on and on about the French Revolution. The paper was filled with pictures of Arnold's head, Arnold's profile. Footballs. She tried to keep her mind off of what was going to happen but found it impossible.

Nobody seemed to notice her in this state except Pheobe, who cast worried glances now and again. At some point she whispered, "Are you okay?" and Helga told her--a little shakily--that she was fine. Pheobe went back to her work slightly worried and after a while put it out of her mind.

The bell rang: lunch. Everyone dutifully stood and went to their lockers but Helga stayed behind for a moment, lost in thought, until Mr. Simmons said, "Uh, Helga? It's lunch time."

She jerked upwards, startled, and then nodded and hurried out of the classroom.

Mr. Simmons watched her go, wondering what was wrong. Then again, he thought, sitting down to his usual tofu and rice roll lunch, with a family like hers he would feel wrong quite a bit. Quite a bit. He started to eat.

Lunch progressed much in the same fashion. Helga sat in a corner with Phoebe, idly chewing the single beef jerky strip her mother had packed for lunch. She was still fretting, eyes locked on Arnold and mind spinning. Can I do it? Can I do it? Can I do it? Now is not the time to be scared. Do not be scared. DO NOT.

Pheobe said, "Helga, would you like me to get you something to drink? You seem very off today."

Helga jerked her head, eyes wide. "Uh, yeah, sure! Get me a chocolate milk, and hurry!" Pheobe said 'getting' and scampered. Helga watched Arnold. Helga felt for her locket and grabbed onto it like a talisman. She watched. Arnold remained oblivious, talking with Gerald.

At some point Harold came over and asked if she had any spare jerky. Helga reared her fist back and almost punched him in the face. He scampered back to his table with Big Patty and Helga sat back down and suddenly felt like screaming/vomiting/crying. Any of the three would do. Any one at all.

When school ended Hlelga's heart skipped.

She nearly leaped through the school doors and was soon on the street, hoofing it fast to Arnold's house. Almost sprinting. She bumped into Harold and Stinky and Sid and they all shouted, but she ignored them completely and just kept running. It was imperative that she get to Arnold's house before he did. Absolutely imperative.

She had a feeling that if she didn't spill the beans today, she wouldn't ever work up the nerve to do it again.

The minutes changed like seasons, but soon she was across the street from the boarding house leaning against a light pole, chewing gum a bit too hard and trying to look casual. It wasn't working.

She started a pep talk in her mind, unaware of the faces she was making: shifting eyes, furrowed unibrow, mouth curled into a tight frown.

Alright, she said to herself. ALRIGHT. This is it. THE...MOMENT. The big one. The one you've been dreaming of. Do NOT overdo it. Just let the words come out, but when you start to go into poetic my-darling-love-god mode, BITE YOUR TONGUE. If you scare him off now he'll be gone forever. Just let him hear it and then let him think. Who knows? Maybe he'll actually like-like you back.

Or, the always cynical part of her mind replied, he'll be repulsed and you'll never talk to him again.

Her train of thought was interrupted.

There he was. Walking home alone. It was like a sign, an omen. Usually he was walking with Gerald or some of the other guys, but today there was nothing. Good tidings?

Call his name. CALL HIS NAME.

He body moved first, darting into the street, and then her mouth opened and she yelled "Hey, Arnold!"

Arnold looked over at her and she nearly swooned and fainted right there: the usual half-smile, the usual bright good-to-see-you eyes. That accepting and tolerant and easy going aura that just seemed to surround him at all times was especially bright.

But then his expression changed. It morphed in a half second into something terrible and Helga thought for a brief and horrible moment that he was making that face because of her.

But he wasn't.

Not in a manner of speaking.

"Helga!" he screamed, and his voice made her stop in her tracks. Apparently this was the wrong thing to do, because his expression got even more terrible and suddenly she saw just what that expression was: fear. He was scared about something. About what?

"Get out of the road! NOW!"

She realized where she was standing.

She turned around just in time to see the headlights bearing down.

Suddenly she was on the road and it felt all wrong, and things started going black, and Helga wanted to swim away with the blackness.

So she did.

When her eyes opened again and the darkness cleared, she found herself in the back of a speeding ambulance with nothing to see but medical machines and Arnold.

Her mind was in a haze. Anesthetics. There was a dull pain, but it was distant. Like someone else's pain.

Arnold was talking to her, reassuring words. "It'll be alright. It'll be okay. Just don't die, please? Just don't die."

She grasped his hand and squeezed. He jerked as if he'd just touched a ghost.

"Arnold," she breathed out, almost a whisper. He said, "You shouldn't talk, your ribs might be..." He trailed off, not wanting to even think about it much less say it out loud.

"Thank you, Arnold...I..." Her voice was sing songy, surreal. Like a small child speaking to her mother. She squeezed his hand. She looked up and the tingly blackness was washing over her eyes again, and for the second time she swam away with it.

Arnold's eyes widened, but then he saw her breathing and sighed with relief. He held onto her hand like it was an infant dangling over a cliff face.

The ride went on like that all the way to the hospital.

Author's Note: WILL HELGA SURVIVE? IF SO, WILL SHE EVER BE ABLE TO REVEAL HER LOVE FOR ARNOLD? Like I said in the summary, you won't have to worry about Helga dying because this story is not going to be an extremely dark one. I hope so far I've succeeded in doing that.

The song is from the album You Forgot It In People. Please read and review!