A/N: Okay, first episode up! :D Yay! This one is… roughly 12,500 words. XD Lol, at this rate, I'll end up like Azure by the time I'm in my late teens… Excited for me? :D :D :D Huzzah! I love you guys. ^_^ But anywho, basic plot of this one? Arnold loses his beloved journal filled with deep, intense details to his love and what he's been up to. ;) Heh, heh.

But anyway, time for name mentions of all the lovely people that reviewed the prologue, listed in order of who reviewed first, second, third, and so on. And also some notes beside some particularly special reviewers that made me supr smile. ^_^ You guys just make me so happy! Thanks for taking the time to review! *Hearts!*

~*~SuprShoutOuts~*~

Azure129 – Love big sissy. :x

angie93 – You always make me smile, buddy. :)

TippyToeZombie – Thank you! :D

acosta perez jose ramiro – Always a pleasure. :)

loonytunecrazy – Thank you! ^^

Wintarr – *hearts*

Kaa (Anonymous reviewer) – Haha, thanks! :D

Flintphone – Supr thank YOU, Flint. Your reviews always make me grin and just feel so happy. ^_^ *BIG HEARTS*

ZevGun – Thanks SO much for your review! You always make me laugh and smile. You're one of my most valued reviewers. :)

HAFanForever – Thanks for the review, Moira. ^_^

Little trippy friend

THANK YOU!

Yes! Thank all who took the time to leave me a review! ^_^ If it weren't for all you guys' support, I wouldn't write this stuff, so thank you so much for keeping my inspiration alive! *HEARTS* Any and all questions will be answered at the end of the chapter, just like last time. ;) Love you guys! Enjoy the chapter best you can!

Disclaimer: I do not own "HEY ARNOLD!" or it's characters.

"The Pickle Jar"

The Series

The Little Blue Journal

Light green eyes opened to greet the morning light invading his blue, green, yellow room... the sky blue above him infinitely more vast than he remembered it yesterday. It overwhelmed his vision... and made his heart swell, his senses overwhelmed with admiration of just who the sky reminded him of, and he was so grateful to have a skylight that he could wake up to every morning. With nights filled with dreams of those dearest to him, and one of those in particular, opening his eyes each morning to the sky was much like never waking up at all.

He sighed out, relaxed, and felt that he should write about this most pleasant of mornings. He sat up in bed, pulling out one of his many little blue books from the shelf beside his bed. A journal. He'd taken to writing down his thoughts around the third grade, on Gerald's insistence. He could remember very little of their conversation, but the message was clear in his mind to this day. Gerald had grown very tired of the lovesick and longingly deep conversations he'd so often taken to initiating with him involving his love... although they were mostly just him doing the talking, and Gerald looking extremely bored, or even sometimes disgusted. He could remember when he'd first been given his first journal.

The book had been shoved into his hands rather forcefully, and when Arnold had questioned him on it and asked what it was, he'd received the answer being yelled with much purpose into his face.

"It's my salvation!" he'd said, quite enthusiastically.

After many apologies on Arnold's part, he'd tried writing down his thoughts, and had found that they flowed much easier on paper, as he didn't have to hold anything back as he did with Gerald. All his fears of possibly being judged were erased, and he wrote freely and adoringly, his love leading him, and not much else.

With his latest journal, which he'd started around the ending of summer, Arnold opened it to very near the end of the book and wrote with his pencil...

It's a beautiful morning. The sky is as blue as ever, and so were Helga's eyes in my dream. I'm sorry to say that Helga's eyes bring even the sky to shame, though. Poor sky. Well, another day of school. Maybe today she'll notice me, the angel.

Closing the book, he let out a happy sigh and hugged it to his chest. Although it had been another three years from the point he'd told himself he would confess to her then vowed to never have her know, and six since his initial, seemingly everlasting feelings were sparked, he'd somehow managed to keep his love a secret. Although it was common knowledge to just about everyone, except for a very ignoring Helga (who simply didn't want to deal with it), that Arnold had a bit of a crush on Helga, the knowledge that he was, in actuality, utterly in love with the pigtailed tomboy was never even considered by the fourth grade students. Some would say "big crush," some "in like," some "like her like her," but the word "love" was never brought up or used among the simple minds of fourth graders. It was barely even in their vocabularies. But it was the main focus in Arnold's mind and often rapidly beating heart, very rarely NOT used or thought.

Yes, he knew he was in love. He'd be a fool to think otherwise. After all, the pure Heaven that was often his world when left to his thoughts of her could be classified as nothing but.

Though he would admit that after six years, things had become rather... complicated.

As Helga grew (and became more charming and lovely each day), her tastes matured, and soon boys stopped having 'cooties.' Of course, Helga had always been intelligent enough to not give in to such ideas of boys having some inane germ to pass around, but she had never had any interest in them for quite a while, as most little girls did. But she wasn't so much a little girl anymore. And she'd gotten her first crush.

Not on Arnold, though, oh Heavens no.

On a sixth grader.

Arnold couldn't even think of him without scowling and clenching the book harder to his chest.

Rudey Maywell.

He had scruffy, dark - very dark - blonde hair, and chocolate brown eyes. He was tall and rather smart, very flirty. Though he was single, he was often winking at girls, and was considered very 'dreamy' among the female population. He was a very relaxed guy and was often seen leaning against lockers with his hands deep in his pockets, chewing on gum and his eyes out of focus. Other than the obvious, though, Arnold knew little of the sixth grader, only that he hated him. As Arnold had been working hard on gaining Helga's affections for many years, all Rudey had had to do was walk by and glance at her with a polite smile and Helga was hooked, practically on first sight. Arnold had seen right away that her eyes had gone half-lidded and her lips had turned up into a smile.

It had started just at the beginning of the year, only a few days after their first day. The encounter had been brief, and yet ever since it, Helga had been completely goofy for him. Arnold couldn't be certain it was the FIRST time she'd acquired feelings for someone, but it was the first he'd seen, and since he was always watching her, he could only assume that it was.

But despite Helga's quiet yet rather obvious affections, Rudey hardly paid her any attention. He'd never even spoken to her, let alone seemed to return her sentiment. Arnold had no doubt that with time, though, if he got to know her he would be instantly smitten, despite any considerable age gap between them. After all, she was an angel; perfect in every way despite any supposed 'faults.'

The thought made his blood boil at a very uncomfortably cold yet burning hot temperature. The thought of those two together... kissing a-and touching and... dating... His heart burned, his stomach constricting.

No matter how selfish, Arnold couldn't stand the idea of Helga happy with Rudey. She was supposed to be happy with him, and no one else. No matter how much his conscience rejected the idea, his heart wouldn't allow him to disregard the fact. Him and only him. With any other boy would be near cause for utter depression and giving up.

In the time that Arnold had been so taken by Helga, he'd experienced many emotions. Want, need, bliss, sorrow, longing, restlessness, frustration... being only a few. But jealousy was something new to him. Certainly, he'd felt jealous of her friends, being so close to her and for her to speak so openly and happily to them, to have SO much of her ever so desirable time and attention, but he'd never felt... this kind of jealousy. He hadn't been prepared for such a feeling to invade him, and one with so many sibling emotions! It was so intense.

He did not envy him. The definition of envy would be that he wanted what he had also. No, he was jealous, in the most literal sense. He wanted Helga's love all for himself, and no one else could have it. It was HIS. He felt extremely possessive, something he wasn't keen to feeling at all. He was usually a very generous person. But when it came to Helga, there was no room for anyone else. Helga wasn't the type to take up more than one lover, and even if she was, Arnold knew he would not be happy with that set up at all. He may be desperate, but he had his standards. He couldn't very well say he would reject the idea if it was the only possibility, but it was not preferable at all. But luckily, Helga had standards also, and was a hopeless romantic at best, no matter how much she tried to hide it behind that haughty and indifferent exterior. And Arnold was both glad and resentful of this fact. If her affections were reserved for one person, and one alone, then Arnold wanted to fill that spot more than anything. But instead, this Rudey character was occupying it, leaving no room for poor Arnold. Oh, most unfortunate of situations!

Along with this newly found possessive nature of his, Arnold felt the urge to do bodily harm to his competition. Of all the emotions, this was possibly the most awful, in Arnold's opinion. He never wished pain upon anyone, and he knew it wasn't Rudey's fault Helga liked him, but still... That evil of all evil creatures, committing the most sinful of offenses! Making his lovely Helga's heart flutter in a way that he himself could not! How dare he!

And THEN along with the possessiveness and the the urge to do horrible, horrible things to Mr. Maywell, there was the sadness. It was seeming to become a habit for that emotion to pass through his heart. The first boy for Helga to find suitable enough to gain affections for, and it was not himself. He wanted to cry. He could not cry, though, not matter how much his heart begged for it. The jealousy itself forbid it. Two emotions battling for dominance inside himself. Anger and spurn, competing with regret and sorrow. The urge to kill and cry both never wavering, both balancing each other out to the point that he just wanted to curl up into a ball. It was madness! Jealousy was a horrible emotion!

At this point, Arnold was shaking, but he took a few deep breaths and forced down his displeasure as best he could before placing his journal into his backpack and running over to his closet to get dressed. He flung the door open and looked through the row of plaid shirts and grabbed one out in particular (the one that looked the most plaid-ish, even though they all were completely identical), then through the row of green sweaters, and then thusly through his jeans, and then finally through his shoes. But of all his corresponding wardrobe choices, the little blue hat he popped on his head was his one and only. He smiled as he finished dressing himself, and then, right before leaving his closet, he parted his clothes with an almost startlingly smooth motion of his arms, and stepped inside the shadowed room. His hand reached up to pull down the cord without having to look, and the room became clear with light.

Pictures.

Everywhere.

The entirety of his closet's walls were coated in nothing but pictures of Helga.

Being used to this routine by now, Arnold didn't blush or look at all surprised at seeing this, and he smiled dreamily.

"Well," he spoke to the room, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do, "I'm off to school again. The bus will be leaving in a few minutes, so I need to go now. But don't fear, loves. I'll be back soon... you know... later..." He awkwardly began backing out of the room, looking wary of the pictures. Perhaps he'd gotten it from his grandmother, perhaps his grandfather, perhaps his own parents, but something in Arnold had felt the compulsion to create a... somewhat of a shrine, he supposed. No matter how creepily insane the very concept was. Thus was where he worshipped and adored, where he basked in all the wonderful emotions associated with his most dearest Helga G. Pataki. But somewhere along the line, he'd started feeling rather awkward having to leave them to all their loneliness when he went off to school, to be with the real Helga, the one his heart truly belonged to. Though he knew it was crazy, he'd sometimes feel like his pictures were resentful of the real Helga. They must, after all, be jealous of not being able to be the real, truly lovely Helga herself, but only likenesses of her true, complete essence, and not at all the ones he really loved. He'd kiss them and gaze at them, but only for the reason that they bore the looks of the one he truly longed to kiss and gaze at. Yes, they were jealous, and he felt that every morning when he left them, they were all staring holes at him, some of them were even scowling (it being such an attractive look on Helga, after all, he'd taken it upon himself to capture her passionate anger along with her happiness). He felt sorry for having to leave them, and he'd sometimes feel as if he were cheating on them, but he had to go, the poor dears. He gulped a little, laughing nervously as he shut the door gently behind him, and slid down the door with a sigh of relief and anxiety.

Yeah, he was kind of crazy.

"But at least I'm aware of it," Arnold muttered, standing back up and grabbing his back pack, just before he walked out of his room and closed the door.

Getting onto the bus to home now, the school day completed, Arnold let out a sigh and walked through the aisle to sit down next to Gerald, who smiled at him in greeting. Arnold smiled back, sitting his backpack beside his seat. Today had been like any other. He'd sat in the back and stared at Helga, been as attentive as he could to the lessons, stared at Helga, did his work, stared at Helga, enjoyed talking to Gerald, stared at Helga, had a nice lunch, and… stared at Helga. A good day overall, indeed.

Sitting next to Gerald now, he decided he should start conversation. "Hey, Gerald," he began pleasantly, "how are you?"

Gerald chuckled a little at the overly formal greeting between two long-standing friends, and shrugged. "Can't complain. Math was awful today, though. Who wants to talk about multiplication?"

Arnold smiled. "It wasn't so bad, Gerald. It's actually really easy. Just think of it like... Say, you have two boxes of jellybeans, with ten jelly beans in each, then to find out how many you have in total all you have to do is-"

Gerald rolled his eyes up at his friend's optimism and shook his head a little with a smile, interrupting him quickly before he could go on, "Whatever you say, man." He popped on his headphones then and relaxed back, figuring if they were going to talk about Math, he'd much rather abandon the conversation all together. He rather enjoyed talking to Arnold, he was his best friend, but school really wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Besides, he was tired, it had been a long day. A little mindless music listening sounded wonderful. He cast his eyes out the window and grinned lazily.

Seeing that Gerald no longer wished to talk, Arnold just cast him one last understanding smile and then took out his little blue book, deciding to write down how his day had gone.

Today was a good day. Helga didn't notice me, though, sadly. But no matter, hopefully with time I'll be worthy enough for her to see it fit to return my love. Rudey Maywell was home sick today, too. What a wonderful day this has been! He doodled a big grin here. I'm on the bus right now, and once we're let off I'm going to do my chores and then consult Brainy to see where Helga is. She's so wonderful to look at, after all, I can't help but stare. With that long, golden hair and perfect pigtails. I can only imagine how beautiful it would look flowing down her back and falling over her lovely shoulders. I love her eyes, too. They're the purest shade of sapphire blue I've ever seen, so deep and blue, like the ocean. No other blue could possibly compare. Poor sky. He shook his head. I'd love to gaze into them directly, but the only way to do that would be to have her stare back into mine, and sadly, she'd be repulsed if I suggested that. Oh well. I guess I should be grateful I'm allowed to look at her at all. You'd think that looking at an angel as bright as her would burn your eyes out, plus I'm so unworthy... but not nearly as unworthy as Rudey! That horrible boy! But no matter, he doesn't have the privilege I do to ride on the same bus with her, or be in the same classroom as her! The perfect creature! How could it be taking him so long to realize how beautiful she is? I don't wish him to AT ALL, but still! It's so obvious! Brainy agrees with me. Helga's perfection is the most apparent thing in the world. It's like not knowing that tapioca pudding is the most superior of all puddings! But then again, Stinky would completely disagree with that statement. But to each his own, I guess. But that doesn't change that Helga is NOT pudding. She is an angel! I only pray Rudey's density to this fact continues. Brainy says that if she loves Rudey, I should just accept that and be happy for her, but I just can't! Of course I want Helga to be happy, but I just couldn't live with her being with someone else! No! I'm amazed Brainy can even say such a thing. I guess he's just better than me. It figures. His poetry about her is beautiful and very true, and he's much smarter than me. Out of the two of us, I suspect Helga would definitely choose him as the best. I hate to think that, Brainy is my friend and confidant, but I can't forget that he is also my competition. But no matter. Jealousy may be present in the air, but we'll deal with that when we need to. For now, I'm just happy I have someone who understands my deep love for her. The fact that I'm not the only person to have thought of her in such an intensely romantic way only PROVES that Rudey one day will too if given the opportunity! Oh, if only Helga knew how much it pains me. Why can't she love me? I know I'm far from perfect, but...

His hand shook. After a few moments, he put his pencil down and, with a sigh, closed the book and shook his head. Far from perfect was an understatement. Why can't she love me? A much better question would be why WOULD she? Why would someone with so much going for her, decide it fit to bestow her perfect love on HIM, Arnold? He was so selfish when thinking of her loving another, one much more fit a mate for her, and he had very few talents, if any at all, and he had very little to offer her. He was so beneath her.

He lifted his pained gaze from his closed book in his lap and, without a look, threw it carelessly into his bag, not even wanting to look at it. That unfinished line was pulling at his soul, and he didn't want to think about it anymore.

When the bus pulled into the bus stop nearest to his home, Arnold stood up and grabbed his backpack quickly, walking off to the bus door, with Gerald in tow. Just before stepping off the bus, though, Arnold paused a moment to look back over at Helga, chatting away with Phoebe and not even paying his leaving any mind, and let out a sigh, his spirits lifting. She may not love him, and that may hurt, but at least he could revel in the positive feelings of being in love, which there were many. The mere fact that a person like her existed was more than enough to make him happy for the time being. With a seriously goofy smile starting to pull at his mouth, Gerald rolled his eyes and gave him a final push off the bus. Arnold just shook himself of his dazed thoughts, chuckled sheepishly, and began walking over to his house, Gerald good-naturedly laughing along with him.

Neither boys noticed, though, that the little blue book was left laying in the aisle on the bus, pulling away from the very house they were going into, and slowly off the street entirely, and eventually out of sight...

"Honestly, Phoebe?" Helga asked in a tone of great incredulity, just getting up as the bus stopped at her house, Phoebe standing up with her in her timid little way. Helga began walking down the aisle slowly, behind a few other kids, her backpack slung over her shoulder as she continued, "I mean, Gerald? Seriously? Out of ALL the guys to get a crush on, you pick too-tall-hair Gerald Johansen?" Helga rolled her eyes.

Phoebe blushed, pushing up her glasses a little as she replied, "Well, I can't help it, I suppose, Helga. He's so worldly and, um, cool!" She felt a bit awkward saying that, but she continued, her eyes getting a bit dewy, "He's smart, and kind, and so handsome and-"

"A dork," Helga inserted dryly, interrupting Phoebe's near dreamy ramble. Helga had more than noticed where she was heading with all that, too, and rolled her eyes to the side as she said, "Geez, Pheebs, you're almost as bad as... Well, Arnold." She snorted, glancing back over at Phoebe humorously. "I mean, it's been how long since first grade, and he's STILL hung up on me? Criminy, you'd think he would have caught the clue already."

Phoebe blinked up at her, her books hugged closely to her chest. "Well, Helga, you've never formally rejected his advances-"

"Advances!" Helga cried, her eyes wide and her mouth turned up in utter amusement. "Pheebs, what advances? All he ever does is the same thing he's done since first grade—nothing."

"Even so," Phoebe said despite her friend's previous reaction, "you've never told him outright that he is not any form of romantic interest to you. Perhaps you should?"

"I'm working on it!" Helga exclaimed in annoyance, a slight scowl on her face as she walked forward slowly behind the other kids, the hold up appearing to be that Harold had spilled his backpack full of Mr. Fudgies on the ground. Helga merely continued, "I just don't know how to tell him just yet. I was hoping he'd just give up. I mean, after all, Rudey..." Her smile turned a tad goofy just at the thought of the sixth grade heartthrob.

Phoebe giggled a little at the funny, soft look on Helga's face—a rare sight, indeed. And she said then, attempting to move their conversation along, "Well, Helga, regardless of Arnold's not being able to take a hint, I wouldn't say I'm nearly as hopeless. Gerald has given me no sign that he disapproves of the idea of us being an… us."

"Well, of course not, you're Phoebe," Helga said, her dazed thoughts forgotten and an almost motherly pride in her eyes. "You've got a lot going for you. You're sweet, smart, pretty; only a total simpleton would turn YOU down. But then again…" Helga looked away, a slyly hilarious look in her eyes and tone as she finished, "this is Geraldo we're talking about."

"Helga!" Despite her disapproval of her making fun, she couldn't help the slight laugh that escaped her immediately after.

Helga laughed a little too, walking forward now finally and then—

"OOF!"

She was on the floor, having tripped over something. She shook her head and pushed herself up by her arms to exclaim, "What the heck!"

Phoebe gasped and rushed over to her side and grab her hand, helping her up. Helga gratefully accepted her help and pulled herself up, and her eyes swarmed over the floor to see what foul thing had dared trip her, and her eyes came to rest on a small, blue book on the ground. She blinked, her irritation forgotten, replaced with curiosity, as she reached down to pick up the small blue item. "Huh, what's this?"

Phoebe looked at the object from her position beside the tall blonde and answered, her eyes not leaving the book, "It would seem that somebody lost a notebook."

"No," Helga objected, flipping through the book. "Not a notebook. A diary."

"A diary?"

"Yeah." Helga stopped flipping through the book and just opened it up to the first page, reading a little. Her eyes grew wider and wider as she read. But at the same time, as her eyes grew, so did her grin. Finally, she burst out into laughter and had to just lean over on one of the seats on the bus to support herself, she was laughing so hard.

Phoebe, her intrigue just bursting by this point, anxiously asked, "Whatever are you finding so humorous, Helga?"

Helga just let out a few more chuckles and merely shook her head, leading Phoebe off the bus with a hand to her back, her other hand holding the book. "Oh, Phoebe, you have got to hear this!" Now successfully off the bus, Helga brought the book back up to her face and read in a straining voice, trying not to laugh and clearly enjoying herself, " 'Her eyes are like the ocean, her skin like milk, her hair like spun gold, her entire form the very definition of perfection!' " She burst into laughter once more. "Gah! What is this crap?"

"Why, Helga," Phoebe said in surprise, taking the book from her to see for herself, "that sounds like you!"

"Phoebe!" Helga exclaimed in surprise, her eyes wide.

"No, no, Helga, I just mean—Blue eyes, fair skin, blonde hair, unquestionably female. This person is listing off all your physical traits. See here? 'She's so tall, much taller than me.' You're one of the tallest girls in the class. Helga, whoever this is is talking about you."

"Me?" Helga made a face. "But that's ridiculous. Who in their right mind would be going gaga over—"

While Helga had been talking, Phoebe had read a bit further down and gasped once more, interrupting her, "Helga, that's not all! This is definitely about you, but the person in this book writes that they've been in love with you since kindergarten!"

"Give me that!" Helga grabbed the book from her, a bit irritated. This was all ridiculous. Reading further down, though, just as Phoebe had, Helga couldn't deny that she was right. Whoever this person was had undoubtedly stated verbatim that they had been in love with Helga Pataki since pre-k. In her shock, she just continued to read silently, trying to find something here that proved otherwise, that this was a joke, a hoax, just… not true! Anything!

But she found none, and as she closed the book numbly, she found she could only really say one thing.

"Who… in the heck… is this?"

"So, man," Gerald started, falling down onto his couch and relaxing back, "how was your day?" The question was ironic, Gerald having recalled back to when Arnold asked him something relative to that question on the bus before.

Arnold, sitting on his bed with a content look on his face, just answered, "Today was okay. Pretty much just like any other day. Except," he started with a small, overly pleased look on his face, "Rudey didn't come to school today because he was sick."

Gerald rolled his eyes a little at the smugly happy look on his face and replied, "Arnold, my man, I never thought I'd see the day when you'd actually be happy over someone's misfortune."

"Well," Arnold began self-consciously, shifting on his bed. "This isn't just someone, Gerald. It's Rudey Maywell." He twisted his face in disgust.

"Yeah, and other than unknowingly being the poor soul Helga has her eye on, he's done nothing to you."

"Poor?" Arnold's eyes widened, and he looked at Gerald in shock, completely ignoring his overall meaning with that sentence for obvious reasons. "I hardly think Rudey is poor. You can't possibly be implying that having Helga's affections is a bad thing."

Gerald just rolled his eyes, though, much to Arnold's continued distress, and said dryly, "Look, man, I know you've got a weird thing for her, but I honestly don't think Helga is that great a person. She's rude, sarcastic, and always thinks she's right—"

"Well then you two have a lot in common," Arnold stated with a glare, his hands on his sides.

Recognizing his look, Gerald just sighed and relented with his hands up in defense, "Fine, man, whatever. I get it. No bad mouthing your girl. Sorry." He frowned just a bit sheepishly, showing that he was being sincere.

And seeing that he was being genuine in his apology, despite his defeated tone, Arnold's scowl dropped and he tilted his head at him, a small frown painted across his face. "I really wish you'd at least try to get along with Helga. I know you don't really like her, but… I…" His hand drifted over his heart, his eyes not meeting Gerald's.

Gerald gave him a look of understanding and nodded. "I know, man. And okay, fine, I guess I could be a little nicer to Helga, try to make friends. I mean, after all, one of these days I may be giving you off to her in a white dress, huh?" He shot Arnold a sly look and wink, trying to lift his spirits a little.

Despite his best efforts, though, Arnold just smiled sadly and replied distantly, "Maybe."

His reaction didn't satisfy Gerald at all, though, and he gave Arnold a determined look as he stood up and walked over to him. "Come on, man, don't get all mopey on me just because of one guy in the way of—what was it you're always saying? Destiny?" He smirked. "And one guy who's way out of Helga's league no less-"

"Helga's an angel! She could have any guy she wants! Don't try to pretend she couldn't!" Arnold cried, his forlorn mood replaced with defense for his love and distress once more.

Gerald's eyes widened and he shook his head quickly. "No, man, I just meant—she's way too young for him. A young, feminine thing like her with an old codger like Rudey?" He scrunched up his face and shook his head, acting along as he placed a hand on Arnold's shoulder.

Arnold seemed to calm at this, and after a short pause for thought, nodded a bit hesitantly his assent, not saying anything.

Gerald continued then, knowing he was just starting to win him over, "Anyway, man, I was just saying that you're always saying that Helga is for sure the person you're meant to be with, right?" Seeing Arnold blink, blush, and nod, he continued, "Then it will happen. And no stupid, old sixth grade Rudey Maywell will change that. And one day you will get married and everything will be as right as rain."

"Yeah…" Arnold muttered stupidly, his eyes going glassy.

Gerald grinned at this, knowing his friend was getting to be long past any sadness, and finished it all off with, "And then'll come the honeymoon, kids, and all the other mushy, romantic stuff you're always going on about." He shook his head, resisting sticking his tongue out in utter disgust the best he could, and hopped up to sit next to Arnold on his bed, taking his hand off his shoulder. Even after six years of dealing with all the 'love' stuff with Arnold, he still couldn't get over the icky, ucky feeling it gave him to think of his friend feeling all romantic and mushy over Helga G. Pataki. Not that there was anything wrong with the girl, no. She was perfectly… okay. But she had her annoying traits—prideful, brutally blunt, seemingly no moral conscience, and just so… in your face. She was like the complete opposite of Arnold, and yet Gerald had never seen anyone more completely enamored with someone, not even his parents with each other (and when walking in at the wrong time, that could definitely get very disturbing). Gerald had truly tried to see what Arnold saw, but he just couldn't. He'd just concluded long ago that Arnold was so completely and totally foolishly blinded by affection that he couldn't see what Gerald saw. And what Gerald saw was… a really, really annoying person.

Arnold wasn't present to talk to Gerald anymore on that subject though, or to notice his slight reverie, for he was long gone. His eyes were far off, his mouth set in a small smile loaded down with dreaminess, and form basically just slumped over weakly. And after a few seconds, the inevitable mutterings began, "You're right, Gerald. I can't get a little down over just one guy that's too stupid to see how wonderful she is. I mean, her eyes are like deeper than the ocean. A deep, steaming ocean—you know how fiery she is. It only makes sense that her ocean eyes would be hot oceans. A-And…" His hand absentmindedly came up to rub the back of his neck a little, his face as dreamy as it could get. "She really is just so… so…"

And then his backpack was shoved into his arms, and Arnold's dreamy state was subdued enough for him to glance up at an amused Gerald with questioning eyes. Gerald just said, though, dismissively, "Journal time, buddy. That's all I'm sayin.' "

Arnold understood his meaning and nodded, anxiously starting to shift through his bag to find his journal so he could get all this burning love off his chest once more today. But the more and more he shifted, the less and less he found it seemed. Panic starting to ease it's way into his conscious, Arnold's hands flew to any other compartments the modest book bag had, and once more, found nothing. On the verge of total hysteria now, Arnold took a deep breath, hugged his bag to his chest, sealed his eyes shut and asked in as controlled a voice as he could manage, "Gerald…"

"Yeah, man?" Gerald said, having once more made his seat over on the red, retro couch.

"Are you playing some kind of sick prank on me, or did I lose my journal…?"

There was a moment of silence in the room.

Then finally, Gerald answered hesitantly, "Uh, I didn't hide your journal from you or anything, if that's what you're asking, man…"

Once more, there was a moment of silence.

And then…

Arnold passed out.

"Maybe it's a… a-a different Helga Pataki?"

"I highly doubt that, Helga."

"O-Okay, um… Maybe this person is just off his nut?"

"…That could be, I suppose. But there's no way of being sure of that."

"No way?" Helga exclaimed, jumping up from her seat on Phoebe's bed in her room, and pointing a forceful finger at the blue book in her hand, her eyes wide and mouth agape. "Have you read this? It's more than enough proof!"

Phoebe shook her head at her, sighing. "Helga, I realize all this is coming as a shock to you, but do calm down. It's not like it's a bad thing that there's someone out there that cares about you."

"Lots of people care, Pheebs. This person is just plain psycho obsessed! I mean," she flipped through some pages, " 'I followed her home today. I stared at her pigtails the entire way there, and how cute they are when they bounce and sway in the slight wind.' " Helga shut the book loudly then, her face blankly dry as she said gravely, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a nutjob."

Phoebe laughed and shook her head. "Oh, come on, Helga. So he's a little obsessive. After six years, it makes sense that he'd be a bit… eccentric."

"Six years?" Helga mulled that over, pacing back and forth in her distress, and her hands behind her back. She stopped after a moment, a hand to her chin. "I guess that's right, isn't it? Kindergarten was six years ago from today. Criminy…" She shook her head, sighing. "This is becoming even worse than I thought. I mean, I know where you're coming from Pheebs. So someone likes me. Big whoop. I can handle that. But love? We're only nine!"

Phoebe shrugged helplessly, not knowing what else she could say.

Helga just continued her pacing, though, seemingly deep in thought. "Well," she spoke, still pacing, "we'll just have to find out who this mystery freak is, now won't we? Should be simple enough." She stopped in her pacing and stood erect, looking at Phoebe. "We'll just put up flyers around school for a missing diary (or journal, as the guys call it)," she rolled her eyes, "we won't say who found it, and whoever shows up to claim it will be our man." She grinned just a bit sinisterly, a prideful look in her eye. "Perfect."

Phoebe smiled, impressed, and stood up to say, "That's brilliant, Helga. But what if someone notices us putting up the flyers?"

Helga just waved her off, though. "Eh, we'll do it early in the morning. The janitor goes in early and if we catch him at the door, we might be able to bribe him into letting us go in to put up our flyers. No big deal."

Phoebe nodded in agreement to her plan, still with that impressed smile.

"D-Do you think it's a trick?" Arnold asked shakily, staring at the flyer up on the bulletin board.

Already today, he'd scoured all throughout the boarding house (his room especially), blushingly asked the boarders whether or not they'd seen his journal, all over the bus (after everyone had gotten off of it, of course, so no one would notice him in his frenzy), all through PS118 (even though he knew that himself losing it there was impossible, since he'd had it with him on the way back home on the bus), and yet he'd found nothing. Nothing! After coming off the bus to school, he'd felt just plain sick. That journal had every last detail of his love for Helga inside of it—Everything! He held nothing back in those journals, and he just KNEW his name was probably stated somewhere inside that thing. He hadn't prepared for the idea of actually LOSING it. And after a spotless seven years of worship, THIS just HAD to happen! W-Well, okay, so 'spotless' wasn't exactly the RIGHT word, maybe… There had been that whole falling at her feet thing last year when she'd gotten just a TEENSY bit too close to him (luckily Gerald had managed to pull him away before anything TOO foolish popped out of his mouth), and the few instances over the years that Helga had looked at him and he'd been too dazed to actually work up the sense to LOOK AWAY until several seconds of getting that annoyed look from her. And also, well… there HAD been the several times at parties and stuff that he'd trip any boys that were wandering too close to Helga when a slow song was on, because he would be DARNED if he was gonna let any boys other than him dance with her… even if he never actually DID or possibly ever WOULD work up the nerve to ask her himself. But still, it was understood among most that Arnold had eyes for her, and anyone dumb enough to walk past him on their way to asking Helga to dance DESERVED to get tripped in Arnold's opinion. But still, his résumé of keeping Helga in the dark of his all too obvious secret may not have been exactly SPOTLESS – he would admit that – but it was still clear enough that there was no way anyone, ESPECIALLY Helga, knew that he held feelings much more intense than that of a 'crush,' and he just couldn't DEAL with the idea of someone reading of his deep love, laughing, and spreading it around in a hilarious rumor that would inevitably make it's way to Helga's ears. He just KNEW his name was probably in that book! That accursed book! Now more than ever did he regret working up the habit of writing down his daily affairs mattering of the heart. He should have just kept them inside himself, lodged them down deep, and become even BIGGER of a hermit than he already was—it would have been much safer. Or at the very least, he should have gotten a journal with a LOCK… but then again, very rarely did he see any BOY journals with locks on them, which he supposed was understandable. Girls needed their secrets to be kept safe because they were deep, complex creatures that wrote about… everything, but boys were expected to write of bugs and dirt and sometimes girls and basically all the stuff they talked about on a regular basis anyway. The manufacturers hadn't accounted for a ten-year-old boy being fervently in love with someone that he dare not name and writing it all down in a little (STUPID) blue book.

But now, all of that didn't matter anymore. He would FIND a lock and drill it in himself if he had to when he got that book back! Nobody could know!

But here, on this flyer, it would appear that his worst fear had come true.

Someone had found it! Oh, he was ALREADY dying of embarrassment just thinking about it. According to the flyer, an unnamed person had found a little blue diary ('Journal!' he thought defensively with an abashed blush) and would be at the park directly after school to return it to whoever owned it (When making the flyers, Phoebe had asked Helga whether that was a good time because the owner may already have plans for right after school, and had the points pointed out to her by a rather sarcastic Helga that A) whoever this was CLEARLY had no life, and B) if they cared about getting a journal back FILLED with super personal stuff concerning passionate, WORSHIPFUL (of all things) love, then they WOULD freaking come). Arnold's mind was just swarming with ideas and fears and as he asked this question to Gerald ("D-Do you think it's a trick?"), he found he couldn't stop his knees from shaking.

In response, Gerald said, not taking his eyes off the flyer, "I don't know, man. Obviously someone found it, but why they're making you meet them at the park is beyond me. Why didn't they just tell you who they were so you could get it back during school?"

Arnold gulped, pulling at his collar to help relieve some of the heat suddenly building up within his shirt and sweater. "I-I don't know, Gerald. That's why I asked. Is it going to be like an anonymous exchange, like they do in the movies? They leave it under the rock under the swing set, I take it and leave ten bucks?"

Gerald laughed at that idea and shook his head at him, leaning against the wall beside the bulletin board with his hand. "Sure, if Big Gino found it, but if you did lose it on the bus, then that's unlikely—Big Gino isn't on our route."

"I guess…" Arnold muttered, his eyes still glued to the flyer. The… pink… flyer… Was it just irony playing with him again, or was it possible that the person that made these flyers was-No! He couldn't think that! He'd surely DIE if it was Helga that had found his journal! His eyes wide and knees all but giving out on him, Arnold abruptly turned away from the flyer and walked down the hall forcefully, hearing Gerald shuffle behind him quickly and yell out, "Whoa, man, what's the rush? Class isn't for another five minutes!" Arnold just continued on, though, not answering.

Turning to corner swiftly, he found he was suddenly seeing stars. His head was sore, his back firmly planted against the floor, and his heart spinning.

Across from him he heard a female groan—her—and his dazed mind shifted into dangerous territory at the beautiful sound. He'd so foolishly crashed into her again, he realized, this being a common occurrence. And as he heard her moan (probably after realizing this too) and some shifting (probably due to her standing up), he found he really couldn't think. This was also common. Crashing into her meant touching, and since his head was often a big part of the impact, his confused mind often went into it's default mode—a mode Gerald had laughingly titled 'Love Land.' Which basically meant Arnold was… well, gone, to be blunt. And so, the metaphorical stars surrounding his head turned to hearts and his actual heart started pumping at an alarming rate, his eyes out of focus when he opened them. Helga was the only thing sharply focused in his vision, while the rest was a blur, and she looked—he vaguely noticed through his vision of adoration—concerned, freaked, annoyed, and even a bit exasperated… possibly the most adorable series of emotions to play across anyone's face ever, he thought affectionately.

Helga just sighed at his decidedly dazed expression and grabbed his hand to pull him up without asking. As soon as he was on his feet, she let go of his hand, glared at him for crashing into her, and then walked away without a word. Arnold, his legs feeling like jelly, just turned around to gaze after her in all her loveliness. The hand she'd touched was tingling, and his heart was pounding in his ears. Why was she so perfect? His loving eyes shifted down a little then to notice something… a bit out of place…

There was a blue book poking out of her backpack… blue book… blue… book… journal… His mind instantly came back to reality and his breath left him in a rush! Helga had found his journal? Oh no, this was even worse than he'd thought! He'd refused to even think of the possibility before, but it would appear that his very worst of all fears had come true! But with his luck, he honestly didn't know why this surprised him after all this time. It would figure that the very person the book was completely focused on would be the one to find it. What else would be more appropriately humiliating? He wondered if she'd read any of it but then immediately dismissed the notion—of course she did. She was Helga. His entirely too curious, lovely, perfectly adorable Helga. For all the pain and degradation she caused him without even being aware of it, there was always an equal amount of pleasure. Yes, he assured himself, loving her was definitely worth it. It never wouldn't be. No matter how many times he idiotically lost that stupid thing, no matter how many times she would prove it a point that she didn't return his feelings, no matter how many times she did anything that caused him to even flinch slightly—she would always still be that innocent, sweet girl he'd met and fallen for back in Preschool. He only wished over the years she hadn't gotten so… genius. No matter how attractive a trait, it just wasn't something he found himself being too happy about in a time like this. Oh, if she'd read just a teensy bit too far in that book he just knew she knew that he loved her! Though by the way she'd reacted at seeing him in her usual way, he hadn't noticed anything different or her looking at him at all strangely. So there was still hope she didn't know. He let out a sigh of relief at that and found himself suddenly sinking back down onto the floor, the weight suddenly lifted from him was so great.

Gerald finally caught up to him just in time to see this and raised an eyebrow. "Uh… Arnold, why are you on your knees?"

Arnold just looked up at him, his eyes wide with fear. "Gerald, you won't believe it. Helga was the one who found my journal!"

At hearing this, Gerald's eyes widened almost just as wide as his friend's, and he quickly grabbed Arnold up by his arm and said in a quiet, rushed tone, "Helga found it? How do you know?"

"I saw it poking out of her backpack…" Arnold muttered faintly in distress, a hand coming up to hold his head. "Oh, Gerald, what am I gonna do? She's going to be there at the park and she's going to see me. She'll know everything. And she'll…" he gulped harshly, speaking out in pure terror, "reject me." Just the idea of seeing that utterly rejecting look in her eyes sent him on the verge of near hyperventilation.

Gerald seemed to share the same fear as Arnold in his eyes, except not with quite as much vigor. He said then, trying to ease his worries, "All right, all right, man. Don't panic. We'll figure a way out of this. Don't worry. W-We just have to figure this out…"

"But how?" Arnold cried quietly to him in distress, eyes wide with fear and regret. "She didn't react too strangely to seeing me, so she must not know just yet, but there's no way out of this—she'll be there, and the only way I'll be able to get the book back is by going up to her to get it myself, which will prove once and for all to her that I'm… I'm in…" He found his throat was constricting so bad that he couldn't manage to squeak out the words. Not here. Not now. Usually they passed through his lips without barely a thought, but now… He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head a little, frowning. "Oh, she'll just know. And there's no way out of it. The only possible answer would be to-… unless…" And now Arnold's mind was hard at working. He had an idea. As extraordinary as that was, an actual plot to get out of this great mess was forming in his head. It was about time that widely huge brain of his started working, he thought with a small grin starting to spread across his face.

For some unknown reason, that grin made Gerald feel really uneasy. Shaking off the feeling, though, Gerald asked anxiously to the obvious plan forming in his head, "Well, buddy? What? Unless what?"

Arnold's eyes snapped to him then, and the already upturned corners of his mouth finally burst into a full blown, unashamed grin, and he had a sheepish look to his eyes as he put a hand on Gerald's shoulder and said, "Gerald, you're really gonna hate me for this later, but…"

Gerald just blinked, that uneasy feeling coming back full force. "What?"

Arnold just sighed and said bluntly, "I think you should do it."

"No way, never, not in a million years…!" his response from before rung violently in his ears as he now stood here, outside the park entrance with Arnold standing a good distance away in hiding to observe how things went, and all Gerald could think at a time like this was, 'I can't believe I'm really doing this… Arnold owes me BIG! Like… HUGE!' He grumbled to himself as he made his way through the park, his head bowed, and he felt as if he were on death row. "I'm gonna make him take Timberly to her ballet classes, and he's going to be buying me ice cream for a month—no, two months. And ohhh, if he thinks he's just gonna weasel his way out of this with that stupid 'but it was the only way' card, I swear, best friend or not, I'll kick him straight in the—"

"Gerald!" a light, feminine voice squeaked just a few feet in front of him.

He grimaced majorly as he looked up and realized Phoebe was standing beside Helga on the swing set, giving him a shy, but friendly smile.

'Oh, great…' he thought, his face blushing deeply just at the idea that he'd not only have to… but in front of… 'Okay, Gerald, just stay calm. Think of all the things you're gonna do to kill Arnold for this later. Yeah, that's it. Just think of that…' Feeling a bit more relaxed (but not much), he nodded to her and walked up to the two, happy he could use her address as an excuse to draw this out a bit longer as something not totally humiliating, and stall the inevitable.

Once he was fully in their presence in front of them, Phoebe gave him a bright smile, and he couldn't help smiling back, a bit amused. She really did like him, didn't she? It was sweet… and kind of baffling, he'd admit. After all, she was so smart and pretty and he was so… He shook his head of those thoughts. They were, after all, ridiculous. He couldn't possibly be thinking that he might be interested in the class nerd. A cool guy like him? He scoffed mentally at the idea. Of course she liked him. He was cool and his hair was great! But still, he couldn't control the nagging feeling of why someone like her would…

His train of thought was interrupted by Helga's loud, sarcastic voice, and for once, he thought he might actually be grateful for that. "Come on, Pheebs, why'd you have to bring over the mega dork?" Her slitted eyes came to drift over his face then, as if scanning him. "I'm amazed he didn't fall over a long time ago from that skyscraper on top of his noggin."

He scoffed loudly, feeling defensive. Helga wasn't usually so mean to people, but it was well-known knowledge that they just didn't get along. They were like apples and oranges, cats and dogs, rocks and computers. Or, as Helga had once said, "Fish and sushi, me being the fish and you being the sushi. I was smart enough to avoid getting caught up in the net, and you ended up on some guy's plate." As much as that severely offended him, it got the point across basically. They just had nothing in common. Which was exactly what was making this entire thing Arnold had set him up to do all the more embarrassing. He tried to ignore his mission for just a little longer and replied, "Thanks, Helga. It is a lot like a skyscraper, isn't it? That's basically what I was going for. It's good to know it's coming across."

Phoebe giggled and Helga just rolled her eyes.

"So what are you two ladies doing here exactly?" He changed the subject, keeping his eyes on Phoebe since he knew she wouldn't get all annoyed by it like Helga.

"Well," Helga spoke first, of course, "we're here waiting for some freak to walk through that gate. And low and behold, here you are!" She smirked.

Gerald gave her a flat, dry look and then shifted his eyes to Phoebe, "Phoebe?"

"Helga found a diary laying on the bus yesterday that someone must have left behind. We put up some flyers, so now we're just waiting for the owner to come retrieve their piece of property," she explained with a smile and sigh.

"Oh yeah. I saw those flyers," he said, innocently enough and in a totally casual manner, "Any particular reason you didn't put your names on it so they could just get it from you during school?"

Helga rolled her eyes and held up the book to him, waving it around a little. "Geraldo, you have NO idea what this thing is. It's not just a diary, it's one FILLED with super personal stuff—"

"How strange that someone would write down their secrets in a journal," Gerald interjected dryly.

Helga ignored him and continued, "—ALL. ABOUT. ME." She flipped through some pages and opened it up, reading, " 'Today was an average day, just like yesterday. Although ONE thing did happen today that made today pretty worthwhile. Helga was chewing on gum today all through class. Luckily Ms. Slovak didn't notice, but then when the recess bell rang, she folded it up in some paper and threw it in the trashcan without looking… She missed. I know that doesn't exactly sound like something I'd be happy about, but it was a lot easier just picking it up than having to root through the trash cans like usual. I'm going to add it to my collection!' " She slammed the book shut then, making Gerald jump a little, and she gave him a hard look as she said, once more waving the book around in one hand, "This is CREEPY stuff! I actually have a STALKER! And I mean a stalker other than Brainy! Based on what I've read, he collects my used gum, follows me around, and sniffs my hair when I'm not looking! I THINK I might have a right to know who the heck this is, so I'll know who to stay away from. And if I put my name on the flyers, then they sure as heck wouldn't have come. They would have figured out a way to steal it back from me or something. And that just won't do. I can handle Brainy—that's easy. Annoying, but easy. But two stalkers?" She rubbed her temples, her eyes squeezing shut. "I just don't understand why I get all the weirdos. Can't a normal guy like me? Just one? L-Like…" And now her face was threatening to get very dreamy.

Phoebe sighed and shook her head. "No, Helga, for the last time, it's impossible that the owner of your book is Rudey Maywell. Just by the first few pages, we already know that the owner is in our class, ambidextrous (though he seems to mainly favor writing with his left hand), and male. And although I don't know if Rudey is ambidextrous, he is, by point of fact, NOT in our class. Actually, he's not even in our grade." Her voice was light and logical as she adjusted her glasses, very like Phoebe.

"S-So maybe Rudey is just writing all that stuff as a ruse to make sure nobody ever figures out it's him, but he left it on the bus because he wants me to find out because he wants me to know how much he really, truly cares!" Her face was very dreamy, and even from where Gerald was, he could feel a shudder go down his spine at how he just knew that from Arnold's hiding spot a couple trees away, he was probably raking the bark off the tree with his finger nails. And glancing over, he found he was correct. He was scowling so hard he was afraid he was going to strike or something. He shook his head at him, trying to keep him from doing anything worse than skinning the poor tree. Arnold just gave a big, clearly frustrated sigh and started banging his head against the tree in his frustration. Gerald just shook his head a little and brought his attention back to his companions on the swings.

Phoebe was already speaking, "Helga, that seems a little complicated. Why would anybody do that? And how would he even have left it on our bus? How would he even know which bus is the one that takes us to school?" There were just so many reasons what she'd said made no sense whatsoever to Phoebe, and her mind was bursting in Whys.

"B-Because…" Her eyes shifted down and away, clearly not having an answer and not liking it at all.

Gerald took a deep breath then and decided he'd put poor Arnold out of his misery already, and he had to keep his eyes closed as he said, "Actually, I can confirm for sure that the owner isn't Rudey Maywell."

Helga's eyes flashed at that and she gave him an indignant look. "Oh? And how can you do that, Einstein?"

"Because I'm the owner."

Utter silence followed Gerald's 'admission.'

Gerald, cringing majorly, cracked an eye open to see what their reaction was.

Helga's expression was… blank. Completely blank. She almost looked as if she didn't know exactly what to think. Gerald felt himself gulp at that a little, the humiliation just starting to set in. He couldn't believe he'd just said that! And to Helga! Oh, Arnold was going to pay… He itched at his arm a little, awkwardly, and cleared his throat, deciding he should go on after a few more seconds of continued silence, "Uh… Yeah, it's my journal." Foolishly, he let his eyes wander over to see Phoebe's expression, and came to see… another blank face, although her eyes seemed a bit wider than Helga's. He felt a heated blush rush to every last scrap of skin on his body and he could have sworn he felt his eye twitch just a little. Like Helga was really going to believe this—

"So…" She coughed a little, starting to look slightly disturbed and amused at the same time. "You're my stalker…?"

His humiliation starting to give way to just plain awkwardness and feeling utterly ridiculous, he answered, "Yep, that's me. Mr. Creepy-Stalker, completely crazy for you. And when I say crazy, I mean it." He sent an inconspicuous, squinted look full of vengeful meaning over at Arnold, who just slunk further behind the tree in embarrassment.

His eyes snapped back over to Helga as she said, looking at him funny, "I see… and you understand that it's never gonna happen, of course-"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, just a little dryly.

"Mmm…" Her eyes shifted around a little, starting to look just completely amused at this point as she stood from her swing, just a little taller than him as she said, looking like she was trying not to laugh, "Ah. So you collect my used gum…?"

"Yup." He squirmed a little, feeling like an idiot.

"And you…" she continued, slowly walking herself around him as she spoke, "really think my hair is like…" he heard a snicker from behind him, "s-silk…?"

"Oh, yeah, it's just, uh…" he began awkwardly, with less enthusiasm than someone on their way to getting their teeth pulled, though he did try to be at least a little convincing, "really… pretty and… and… yeah…"

"And you really think I'm like some kind of… of goddess…?"

"Mmmhmm…" And now he was starting to feel just a tad bit exasperated. She was clearly loving the 'irony' here, and he was hating it.

"Ah. So all that talk about me being annoying and thinking I was a jerk was all just… an act then? You really think I'm a total genius?"

His eye twitched. "Sure…"

"And of course, along with the thinking I'm a goddess and genius, you think I'm the most charming creature on the face of the planet and that I'm the single greatest person in existence?" WOW, she was milking this.

"Okay!" He turned around and grabbed the book out of her hands, scowling and just completely fed up at this point! "That's enough! This is an OLD journal! I got over you some months ago so that is that! I just don't want any stupid rumors spreading around that I actually like you—"

"Ah, ah, ah," she interrupted him, a huge grin on her face. "I believe the word used was love."

"Whatever the word," he continued with force, irritated, "it's no longer the case, so just… just shut up!" The end of his irritated rant was said rather weakly, though he tried not to show it, the awkwardness of the situation once again starting to seep in.

Helga just laughed, though, rolling her eyes as she put her hands up in surrender. "All right, all right, Johansen, I get it. You don't love me, and I don't love you. We've known this for a long time now, and we have an understanding. But you can't possibly have expected me to not find it funny that after all this time you'd actually have the nerve to admit to owning a journal that said you were desperately in love with me. The total hilariousness of that was too great to pass up some teasing, and if you were in my position, I'm sure you would have done the same thing."

At this, Gerald could feel his anger and irritation diminish considerably, and he stood up a little straighter, his fingers tapping against the book as he said, looking down and away, "Well…" He didn't have to finish that sentence. They both knew he would have.

"But really, I get it, Geraldo. Trust me, this isn't something I like. In fact, I'm on the verge of barfing my guts out." She laughed a little, and he eyed her a moment before allowing a smile to come to his face. She took it as a good sign and held her hand out to him. "Now what do you say we bury the hatchet and be… sorta friends, huh?" She smirked. "We'll have to keep it casual, though, since I know if we get TOO close your feelings might start up aga-"

He grabbed her hand before she could finish her sentence and squeezed it as tight as he possibly could, smirking back. "Never bring this up again and I'll take you up on that offer."

"Awww…" She pouted jokingly. "And I was so looking forward to reminding you of this for years to come." She crushed his hand in her own then, smirking largely as his eyes bulged and he yelped. She threw his hand away then, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Now get out of my sight. Go find that football headed kid you like hanging out with so much and gossip to him about Gurgly Boy books or whatever."

"Purdy boy…" he muttered, nursing his sore hand.

Helga just laughed a little and shrugged. "Sure, sure, right… Gerald."

He blinked at her calling him by his actual name and hesitated, before smiling back and saying, "Uh, right… Helga."

Helga nodded to him then, smiling. "Great. Bye."

Shaking off his hand and holding the blue book to his chest, Gerald nodded back slightly. "Bye, Helga." He shot a glance over at Phoebe then, who had been mostly silent throughout their exchange, and winked. "And bye to you too, babe."

Phoebe just glanced down quickly and blushed. "Goodbye, Gerald…"

And with that, Gerald walked away, and soon out of the park.

Helga walked back over to sit on the swing, and Phoebe took the one beside her. They just swayed forward and back gently on the swings for a few seconds, silent, and after seeing Arnold scurry out of the park after Gerald, Helga smirked over at Phoebe and said, "You think they know we read the entire thing?"

Phoebe returned her glance with an amused glint in her eye. "If they did, I doubt Arnold would have sent Gerald over to get the book back from us."

Helga nodded and rolled her eyes a little with a chuckle. "True. But I can't believe he sent Gerald over to get it from us. As if we'd believe Gerald actually worships the ground I walk on. PUH-lease! What kind of idiots does that kid take us for?"

Phoebe coughed just a little, and glanced down. "Actually, Helga, I'd really like to thank you for taking what I said to heart and… trying to be friends with Gerald."

At this, all of Helga's sarcastic aura vanished and her eyes softened, along with her tone. "Well, I don't get along with Gerald… but for you, of course I'll try. My parents are…" She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to. They both knew. She shook her head a little and just continued on, sincerely, "You're my very best friend, Pheebs. You've done a lot for me. The least I can do is try to get along with your crush." She rolled her eyes a little then and muttered, "Even if I don't think he deserves you."

"Oh… Oh, Helga!" And just like that, two small arms were wrapped around Helga's torso and Phoebe said, sounding very grateful and touched, "Thank you, Helga. You're my very best friend, too."

Helga smiled, squirming a little and laughing gently. "All right, all right, Pheebs. Don't crush me." She chuckled.

Phoebe parted from the hug and just smiled, tears glistening behind her large glasses. "Sorry, Helga." She giggled.

Helga just waved her off with a smile.

They fell into a comfortable silence, both just swinging back and forth a little, enjoying the light breeze from the park and the current state of their friendship.

And then this came out of Helga's mouth, "Maybe Rudey just knows Arnold has a crush on me and used his name as a ruse to-"

"No, Helga." Phoebe giggled a little, smiling at her friend sympathetically.

Helga smirked over at her, shrugging her shoulders and arms up. "It could happen."

Phoebe just giggled again, before silence fell over them for a few seconds. And then, something occurring to her, Phoebe glanced over at Helga a bit unsurely, and finally said, "So what are you going to do about Arnold?"

Helga stopped in her swinging at the question and her previous pleasant expression became very blank, her hands gripping the chains of the swings.

There was a moment of silence.

Finally, she said, "I-I guess just the same thing I was doing before… Waiting for the right time to tell him I don't feel that way. A crush was one thing. People can get over crushes pretty easy. But love…? Well, I don't… I wouldn't know anything about that, I guess. But from the stuff I've seen on TV, this would have to be handled very carefully. So I guess I'll just…" she rubbed the back of her neck, not liking this conversation at all, "try to figure out a way to let him down as gently as possible. I mean, six years…" Her throat went dry, her pupils dilating a little. She couldn't very well understand why someone would like her THAT much… Of course, she knew she was a likeable person—all the people she was friends with more than confirmed that—but for someone to actually feel that intensely about her, and for such a long time? She may act all proud and confident all the time, but the truth was, with her parents and older sister, she really just felt really… worthless, sometimes, was really the only word. There was always someone better than her. But from what she'd read in that di-journal, Arnold sure didn't think so… and despite herself, she couldn't help but kinda like that. She shook herself of these thoughts and sighed, and brought her hand away from her neck and back to the swing chain.

Phoebe nodded her understanding and smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure you'll do the right thing in the end, Helga."

Helga just smiled back, looking down. "I sure hope so…"

"You owe me SO big, man!" The blue book was shoved back into his arms, and Gerald gave him a firm look.

Arnold just grinned sheepishly and said apologetically, "I'm sorry I put you through that, Gerald. I just couldn't think of any other way out of it. But at least it all ended on a good note… a great note!" He grinned optimistically, standing up straighter with the book in his hands as he said, "You actually made peace with Helga, Gerald! That's great!"

Gerald sighed a little, smiling despite himself. "Okay, yeah, man. I made friends with your girl shortly after completely humiliating myself. You happy?"

Arnold chuckled a little, still with that apologetic look in his eye. "Very." He brought his arms out then as he said, smiling a bit more brightly, "You made friends with Helga, and I managed to get out of a very compromising situation with barely a scratch. Of course I'm happy." He said then, very sincerely, "And I couldn't have done it without you, Gerald. If it wasn't for you, I would have just gotten my heart broken. I know that wasn't fun for you, Gerald, and I can't imagine how embarrassing that must have been for you, but I'm really glad you did that. Thank you, Gerald, and I'm sorry."

Gerald stared at him with a very perturbed expression for a few seconds as they walked, before finally he just sighed a large breath of air and said in a defeated tone, "Okay, you're welcome, man. What are friends for?" So much for his revenge plans.

Arnold just grinned, happy he was forgiven.

"So now what do you wanna do now, buddy?" Gerald asked, smiling at him in a much more relaxed manner now that this entire journal situation was taken care of. "Arcade, catch, movie? Or we could take up on Helga's suggestion and read some old Gurgly boy books." He smirked.

Arnold smiled at him, stopping at his stoop now that they'd made it back to his house and said, "Actually, Gerald, it's… been a long day." He sighed, looking a little tired. "I think I'm just gonna relax for a few hours before dinner if you don't mind."

Gerald smiled. "Nah, man, I understand. Actually, after this whole fiasco, I think I could use some nice mind-numbing television back at my house for a little while. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Arnold smiled, his hand on the doorknob. "See you tomorrow."

And as Gerald left, Arnold walked inside his house and shut the door, letting out a big sigh of relief as he slid down the door. His head fell back against the door and he just sat there on the floor, his eyes closing. His secret was safe for now, and his heart was still intact. He exhaled once more, quietly, his book clutched against his chest tightly. "Someday, Helga… Someday…"

A/N: Eh. This was… so-so, I think. Bleh. Anyway, I'll go ahead and answer you questions now. xD

Q - Are you planning on writing a version of School Play (I kinda doubt Arnold would have the guts to actually kiss Helga)?

A – There has been debate about that in my head. But from the very beginning of TPJ, I'd kinda just instinctually thought the same thing. So right now, the answer is no, and that's likely not to change. Like Arnold would really have the courage to agree to having Helga plant one on him. He really WOULD be dead in that tomb set after the kiss scene if he did that. XD Plus, Helga wouldn't exactly be happy about the idea, either. So a basic recap of that episode would just be that some losers got stuck with the parts and everyone oohed at them kissing. For anyone who wants to know who, use your imaginations! It can be whomever you want! Any pairing you might like. But both Arnold and Helga, were not in the play in this universe. XD I know, disappointing isn't it? They haven't even ever kissed. But the good news there is that in relation to having never kissed each other, they've never kissed anyone else either. ;)

Q - When would you say TPJ took place (in terms of seasons of the show/the movie)?

A – Well, this fic specifically takes place in the fourth grade, but the original TPJ fic takes place well after the movie would have happened, and when they're in the fifth grade… right at the end of the fifth grade, actually. XD It left off with Rhonda throwing a start of summer party on her boat, and they were in the fifth grade, so… At the end of summer vacation, they'd be in the sixth grade already, and so basically, they're all ten going on eleven. XD Wow. I'd never really thought about that before, but that's kinda sad, lol.

Q - Is he going to make a shrine in his closet like Helga did or will it just be that picture?

A – Well, I'm sure this chapter MORE than explained this already, but I'll elaborate just in case there was any confusion. It is a shrine, but different from Helga's. While Helga had an actual full-fledged statue of him that she bowed to and worshipped, Arnold's closet shrine is composed of nothing but pictures that he's taken of Helga when she wasn't looking. He does bow to them, and do all that weird creepy stuff Helga used to, and it's like his happy place… *Shivers* It has a pillow in the middle of it that he sits on, and there are some stuff scattered on the floor. Candles, Helga's old hairbrush, an old doll she threw out, a sock, etc. Just random items he's managed to acquire over the six years of his supreme lunaticosity. And yes, I did just say that.

Q - I'm kind of wondering if Brainy likes Helga in this universe.

A – Yes, he does. If Brainy loved her for her in the HA! universe, then it only makes sense that in a world she was herself, he would still love her. :) Even if there aren't any Arnold monologues or poetry to listen to. xD

Hope I cleared up any confusion. :) Nobody hesitate to ask questions, just about anything you're wondering about or doesn't make sense to you. This universe is completely fleshed out, so any questions anyone asks HAS an answer. Thanks for your curiosity and for reading the first episode of TPJTS. ^_^ Have a wonderful day! And don't forget to…

REVIEW!

They make me want to write more. ;)

Oh! And I almost forgot! XD Next episode will be "Arnold's Hat," retitled "Helga's Ribbon." Spread peace, joy, and love! *Heart*