AN: Thanks for all the great feedback on the first chapter! I hope you guys like this chapter too. It still feels like more set up, but I'm getting there, I swear!
Strange As It Seems:
The Butterfly Effect
The phrase "butterfly effect" may have different meanings in the world of chaos theory or Hollywood blockbusters, but Arnold used it to refer to the fluttering feeling that stirred in his stomach whenever he got too close to a certain former bully. It was cliché, that was true, but there were no other words to describe it – there were butterflies in his stomach, and they rose and took flight whenever he got within in five feet of Helga Pataki. And in situations like this, they flapped up a storm.
It was their usual Friday afternoon study group – Arnold, Gerald, Phoebe and Helga, together in Arnold's room, getting their homework out of the way so they could have the rest of the weekend worry-free. Helga was sprawled on the floor, textbooks and notebooks spread out in front of her, while Gerald and Phoebe leaned up against the wall, his arm around his shoulder. Arnold sat on his bed, anxiously flipping through the pages of his notebook, nervously twiddling a pencil between his fingers.
"Hey Arnold, what'd you get for this last problem?" Gerald asked, frowning down at the math assignment. "Pheebs got 32, but I got some number with a bunch of decimals…this can't be right…"
Arnold jumped at the sound of Gerald's voice, throwing his pencil into the air. "Huh? What?"
"I said, what answer did you get for the last problem?" Gerald repeated, raising his eyebrows at Arnold.
"Oh, uh…" Arnold fumbled to get to the correct page in his notebook, throwing a nervous glance at Helga, hoping she wasn't taking note of his klutzy actions. Luckily, she seemed to be doodling in her notebook, no doubt having finished the assignment ages ago. "Um…I got 32."
"Damn it," Gerald sighed, "Fine…Phoebe, show me how you did it." His girlfriend smiled at him shyly, and started jotting down the solution in his notebook.
Arnold closed his notebook and leaned back against his pillows. He couldn't seem to find a position that would shut up the upheaval occurring in his stomach.
"What, wait, the answer's 32?" Helga said, suddenly, flipping through her homework, "Are you sure? Let me see your homework, Football Head." She scrambled up and kneeled at the end of the bed, reaching for the notebook on his lap.
"N-no!" Arnold stuttered, pulling the notebook away, a flabbergasted look on his face.
Helga froze mid-grab, eyeing him suspiciously, "Come on, Arnoldo, I just want to see how you did it."
"No…I mean, uh…" He cleared his throat, glancing over at Phoebe and Gerald who were staring at him just as bemusedly as Helga, "Copying is wrong."
Helga rolled her eyes. "It's not copying, you're just helping me learn! Now stop being a weirdo and give me your notebook." She leaned over further and snatched it out of Arnold's hands, despite his weak protest. Shaking her head, she began to look over it, as Arnold sighed and leaned his head against the wall, purposely trying to hit it a little hard. Maybe it would knock some sense into him.
"Oh, I see, I mixed up a negative sign somewhere," She made a few quick edits to her assignment, then tossed the notebook back on to Arnold's bed. "See, that wasn't so hard now, was it? Criminy, Arnoldo, sometimes I'm not sure that giant football head of yours is screwed on right." She made a face at him, but despite the scrunchiness, Arnold's stomach still took a leap. "Are we done here, Pheebs? I don't think I can take anymore of this, plus you promised me some strict-girl's-only-time this weekend, and I want to start it now."
"Coming!" Phoebe chimed, pleasantly. She packed up her stuff, stopping only to swoop down and kiss Gerald goodbye. As she did, Helga again rolled her eyes, throwing a sardonic smile at Arnold. Arnold smiled back weakly, and then tried to keep it together as Helga seemed to look him over from head to toe. She shook her head and then cleared her throat. Phoebe pulled apart from Gerald, giggled quietly to herself, and waved goodbye.
"See you later, babes, I'll call you tonight," Gerald said, smoothly, as Phoebe and Helga exited the room.
"Later, losers!" Helga shouted from the hallway before the door closed behind them.
Immediately, Arnold threw his head against his textbook. He had managed to repeat this act three times before Gerald grabbed the math book out from under him. He raised his head and threw Gerald a look that could only cry out "Help me!"
"Still got it bad, huh, Arnold?" Gerald said, sympathetically.
"It's gotten worse, Gerald! Now it's like I can't even be in the same room as her!" Arnold moaned.
"It wasn't that bad…" Gerald said, trying to ease his best friends fears.
"Gerald, I launched myself away from her anytime she got close to me. I was a nervous wreck! I was a, um, a…well, she said it herself, a weirdo!" Arnold shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.
"Nah, man, you weren't that bad…today." He added the last word as an afterthought, chuckling to himself as he remembered time Arnold had spilled his lunch all over himself or fell flat on his face in front of Helga.
"Haha," Arnold said, dryly, "Laugh at the poor lovesick sucker's expense. Go on."
"Man, I just don't get it!" Gerald said, sitting down on the bed next to his best friend. "Helga Pataki? She spent the whole day joking around and making fun of us – mainly you – and you're still in love with her?"
Arnold sighed, "But it's like…all her jokes and ridiculing…they're part of like, something more. Like a secret code! Like when she rolls her eyes whenever you kiss Phoebe, it really means something like 'PDA makes me uncomfortable but I'm really glad my best friend has someone who cares about her so much because she really deserves it."
Gerald shook his head. "You're decoding Helga Pataki? Cracking the Pataki Code?"
Arnold smiled at him, wryly. "Something like that."
"So what does it mean when she makes fun of you?" Gerald pressed, "What's the real meaning behind "Football Head", then?"
"I wish I knew," Arnold sighed, "Anything she says about me or to me – those are the hardest things to decipher. I don't know if I just get too…butterfly-y to focus enough to figure it out, or if she's just really good at hiding what she's actually saying to me."
"Kind of like…she's trying to cover something up from you?" Gerald suggested, tentatively.
"Yeah, maybe," Arnold said, absently.
"Like maybe…she likes you too?"
Arnold groaned and shook his head. "Come on, man, don't get my hopes up like that! You know that can't possibly be it! I was thinking more like she's onto me! That she knows I like her, so she's just extra careful when's he's talking to me so I don't get any kind of wrong idea!"
Gerald sighed and stood up from the bed, moving to pack his things up. "You are one troubled young man, Arnold. One trouble young man."
Arnold gave him a pathetic smile. "I miss the days when I was a bold kid."
Gerald finished packing and walked towards the door. He shook his head and turned around to face Arnold before he left. "A bold kid would tell her how he felt."
xXxXx
"Later, losers!" Helga shouted from the hallway before the door closed behind them.
She and Phoebe walked down the stairs without saying a word. Phoebe glanced at her best friend, but the look on her face was unreadable. It was until they were safely out of the building with the front door closed behind them that Helga let loose.
"I'm a mess, Pheebs, a totally mess!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "What is wrong with me?"
"I thought you held yourself together pretty well, actually," Phoebe noted, "If anything, it was Arnold that seemed a little off."
"He was acting weird because he's on to me! I must have done something to tip him off. Oh God, he probably saw what I was doodling in my notebook. I'm so STUPID, letting my guard down like that." Helga kicked at a rock on the ground in frustration, and started to lead the way towards her house.
"What were you doodling?" Phoebe asked, running to catch up to her.
"Little tiny footballs surrounded by stupid little hearts," Helga admitted, "Why am I so stupid? How could I do that in front of him? He must have seen and got creeped out and that's why he started acting all weird."
"Helga, you and Arnold were sitting a decent distance away from each other for the most part; if your doodles were so tiny, there's no way he would have known what they were." Phoebe pointed out.
Helga scoffed. "Yeah, right, he's probably got super perfect extra good vision to go along with everything else this is just so perfect about him!" She kicked another rock, this one ricocheting off a trashcan and causing a pleasant clamor that satisfied Helga's mood.
"I'm certain that's not it," Phoebe said, "But, um, Helga?"
"Yeah, Pheebs?"
"Would it…would it be entirely bad if he had seen?" Phoebe asked, timidly.
Helga stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at Phoebe. For once, she felt as if she was the only sane one in this relationship. "Are you CRAZY, Phoebe? He can't know! Why would you even suggest that?" She started walking again, stomping down the street, as if further enraged by Phoebe's question.
"Well, I mean," Phoebe stammered, again running to catch up to the other girl, "You guys are kind of like friends now, with all the hanging out you've been doing lately. It's not like he hates you…maybe now's the proper time to um, take things to the next level?"
"Absolutely not," Helga replied, "Look, he only hangs out with me because you and Gerald are dating. If you two weren't playing kissy-face all the time, me and Arnold…we wouldn't even talk, I'm sure of it." She paused for a second, then sighed, "So while I am eternally grateful you and Tall Hair Boy are going at it, Arnold has absolutely no interest in me as anything more than…a fellow chaperone."
"Oh Helga," Phoebe sighed, "That's not true..."
"Well, I'm going to need a little more evidence then a twitchy Arnold to believe you on that one," Helga replied sarcastically.
xXxXx
"This is pathetic," Gerald sighed on the phone later that night. "They're pathetic."
"I wouldn't say they're pathetic, exactly," Phoebe replied, sitting at her desk and staring out the window. "Maybe just…unfortunate."
"Or confused," Gerald suggested.
"Or…misguided," Phoebe added.
"Or 'completely-whacked-in-the-head'!"
"I was going to go with 'star-crossed', but that works too," Phoebe giggled.
Gerald laughed too, always impressed with himself whenever he could make his girlfriend laugh. "We've got to do something though…they're both head over heels for each other, but neither of them is going to do anything about it!"
Phoebe sighed, "I know…I thought maybe they could work it out on their own, but things are getting a little out of hand. I thought I was making progress trying to convince Helga to confess…" She paused, "Well, re-confess…but she's adamantly opposed to the idea. I think things not going so well the first time persuaded her not to put herself out there again…"
"Well, fortunately, I think I have made some strides in that department," Gerald said, boastfully.
"Oh, really, Gerald?" Phoebe squealed, excitedly.
"Yep! Let's just say I think my man Arnold is going to make a one bold move pretty soon. One bold move…"