[A/N: Hey guys! I found a little extra time (and by that I mean, I'm procrastinating on my school assignments XD) to write this next chapter! I'm laying the groundwork for some stuff that is to come so I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's not as long as the previous two chapters but I expect the chapters to fluctuate in length anyway.

After talking to a friend about chapter 2, I realized not all of you may have caught something I threw in there and I wanted to point it out. Remember how Helga told Phoebe she needed to put something white in the window of her car so people knew she'd be coming back for it and how in the "past" Helga had a white shirt to give her but in the present she didn't? Well, Helga had that white shirt in the past but didn't in the present because it's the same white shirt she got from donating blood that she'd rejected the morning after Arnold's funeral since well... you get the dark irony behind a blood donation shirt and Arnold basically dying from blood loss, right? Okay then. So that's why those two situations were different :).

BUT ANYWAY, I hope you like this next chapter and I super appreciate all the reviews and kind comments! I'm fighting hard to bite my tongue and not tell anyone my complete plans for this story (something I really struggle with XD lol) because I'm so freaking excited for it. I'm always excited for the endings of my stories haha.

Anyway, anyway... you don't wanna hear me chatter on and on so here's chapter 3!

I don't own Hey Arnold]

After school everyone was making their way to the student parking lot. Gerald caught up with Phoebe and Helga as they were walking along the sidewalk and draped an arm over Phoebe's shoulders.

"Hey babe," He greeted her. Gerald was almost a foot taller than Phoebe by now but the height difference was surprisingly adorable. "So we're goin' to check out your dad's car? Is it still at the donut shop?"

"Yes, if you don't mind!" Phoebe said sweetly. "I really hope it isn't something terribly complicated,"

"We'll see," Gerald said. "Jamie-O taught me a few things. I can call him and see if he has any ideas, too. If not, we can just get it towed to a shop,"

Phoebe's face fell in concern. "Oh dear, Father will be quite displeased…"

"It'll probably just be in the shop for a few days," Helga chimed in out of nowhere. "No big deal,"

Gerald and Phoebe looked at her for a moment, then Phoebe sighed. "I hope you're right,"

I know I'm right… Helga thought to herself, rolling her eyes.

"My man!" Gerald suddenly called out and Helga turned to her left to see Arnold coming from the other side of the building. "What's up?"

"Nothin' much," Arnold said, slipping his green beanie back onto his head now that he was outside and falling into step beside Gerald. "Hey Helga, since we're partners for the –"

"Whoa, hold up," Gerald interrupted, then leaned in to his best friend. "You got stuck workin' with Pataki?"

"I can still hear you, ya know," Helga muttered, rolling her eyes, but Gerald ignored her.

"Yeah," Arnold said nonchalantly, shrugging. "We've worked together before and we always got good grades,"

Now Gerald rolled his eyes. "I swear you have a death wish or somethin',"

By now they'd gotten to the student lot and it was time to part ways.

"You're riding with Geraldo here, right Pheebs?" Helga asked and Gerald made a face.

"Yes, thank you for picking me up this morning, Helga!" Phoebe smiled. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Sounds good," Helga said. "See ya,"

Helga started to walk over to her car when she remembered her little accident this morning. "Aw man…" She quietly groaned.

Meanwhile, Arnold moved to follow her and spoke, "Hey Helga, since we're gonna be working together, I thought— Oh, wow…" Arnold stopped next to Helga, observing the damage to the front of the car he hadn't been able to see that morning.

"Bob's gonna have my ass for this," Helga shook her head.

"I mean," Arnold said, trying to be positive. "It's not that bad. Sure, the bumper's dented but your lights are fine,"

Helga deadpanned then sighed. "Oh well…" She said, walking over to the driver's side and opening the door. "Gotta face the music sometime,"

"Helga, before you go," Arnold followed her and pulled out his cell phone. "I have your house number but since we're working together I thought it might be easier if we can text, too. Is that okay?"

Helga felt her heart do a small flip and she tensed for a moment. He wants my number! "Uh, sure… that makes sense," Helga said, tilting her head down to hide a blush as she pulled her phone from her pocket.

"What's your number?" Arnold asked, going into the contacts tab on his phone. "I'll text you so you have mine,"

"4783940393," Helga said in a small voice, her hair whipping across her face from the wind.

"Got it," Arnold said and smiled. "I'll text you and we can figure out what we're gonna do, okay?"

Helga forced herself to keep what she hoped was a normal face. "Yup,"

"See ya!" Arnold said and started walking over to the Packard.

Helga waved and then climbed into the front seat. As soon as the door was shut, she grabbed the steering wheel and bounced up and down. "AHHHHH!"

Suddenly, Helga felt her phone vibrating against her stomach from inside her hoodie's pocket. She pulled it out and opened the text from an unsaved number.

Hey, it's Arnold. :) This is my number.

And then Helga squealed again.

Okay, calm down. You have to drive home. No more stupid accidents. Helga took a deep-breath and backed out of her parking spot but when she put the car in drive and started to make her way out of the lot, a terrible grinding sound started coming from beneath the front of the car. Dammit, it's probably that stupid plastic thing… Helga thought to herself. It only got louder until she could barely even hear the radio and it was obvious everyone else could hear it, too. Helga passed by the Packard and saw Arnold watching her car, his face wincing slightly. A few other classmates were on the other side of the lot, also watching. One of them being Rhonda who simply turned her nose up in disgust and rolled her eyes.

Great. Just great. Helga muttered in her head as she trekked home.

. . . . . . . .

"Olga!" Big Bob hollered up the staircase and Helga cringed. She'd been sitting at her desk trying to focus on homework when Big Bob got home. She already knew he'd probably seen the car. "Get your ass to the trophy room, pronto!"

Helga closed her notebook and trudged downstairs, already anticipating Big Bob's fit. She flopped onto the couch as Big Bob stood on the opposite side of the room, his fists on his hips and his eyes angry. "What the hell did you do to my car?"

"There was a…" Helga paused, trying to think of an excuse. "Umm… I hit the curb at school 'cause there was a… cat. There was a cat in the parking lot and I didn't wanna run it over," Helga forced a toothy smile.

Big Bob deadpanned. "Right. Don't lie to me, little lady. You hit more than a curb with that dent to my bumper plain as day!"

"It was an accident, what does it matter why it happened?" Helga deflected. "Just take it out of my allowance,"

"Oh, you bet your ass I am. And I'm taking the keys," He said, putting his hand out.

"What?!" Helga jumped up. "No, how am I gonna get to school now?"

"Not my problem," Big Bob shook his head and motioned with his hand for her to give him the keys. "Take the bus or whatever it is you used to do before I let you use my car,"

"Ughhh," Helga groaned. "Fine…"

"Actually," Big Bob stopped her as she started to head back upstairs to get the keys. "You know what you can do? You can drop it off at the shop tomorrow morning so I don't have to take any time off work and then you'll give me the keys, understood?"

"Yes, Bob," Helga grumbled and stomped upstairs. "Perfect. Back to the stinking bus,"

. . . . . . . .

Later that night, Helga was downstairs in the living room watching TV when her phone vibrated and a notification saying "Arnold: New Message" popped up on the screen.

Hey, when did you want to start working on our project? I'm busy tomorrow but could meet up Wednesday if you're free.

Helga sat up straighter in her chair and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Arnold was texting her! Granted, it was about their project but still! Helga mentally patted herself on the back for not regressing into her former, nastier ways. At least not yet. After a few messages that Helga wrote, erased, re-wrote, and erased, she finally responded.

Wednesday's fine.

Helga let out a breath and started to relax back into her chair when her phone went off again, making her jump.

Do you want to come over here to work or do you want me to come to you?

Helga swallowed the air bubble in her throat. She still felt like she was waiting to wake up from a dream. How could this be so perfect? She just needed to keep her temper under control and somehow walk the fine line between being nice and saving face. And eventually, when the time was right, she'd tell him. Just, suck it up and tell him the truth.

Your house is fine.

Why is everything'fine'? Helga mentally chastised herself. I'm about as eloquent as a damn fish.

Cool.

Arnold responded, then followed up with another text. How's the car?

Helga calmed her momentary excitement that Arnold was now asking about something other than their project.

It made that noise the whole way home and I have to take it to the shop tomorrow. Bob threw his fit and took the keys away so I get to ride the bus again for the rest of my life. Yay me.

For some reason it felt easier to talk to Arnold through text. Probably because he couldn't see her ridiculous facial expressions every time he sent her a message.

:/ That sucks, I'm sorry.

It's whatever. I have more important things to worry about.

Shit, did I say too much? Helga gulped as she watched the message send before she could think about what she just said. But Arnold would have no reason to think that what she was talking about was him dying in the next month and her trying to find the guts to tell him she actually loved him, right?

Good call. So Wednesday I have to stay after school for a little bit to meet with one of my teachers so do you wanna come to the boarding house around 4:30?

He's staying after school? Helga thought, an incredulous look on her face. What the heck for? Well, no… I shouldn't ask. It's too soon to get too chummy…

OK, that works.

Great, see you Wednesday.

. . . . . . . .

March 3rd

Tuesday after school, Arnold, Gerald and Sid met up at Harold's house. Over the past few months, they'd formed something of a "band", mostly playing covers though they'd made their fair share of attempts at writing their own stuff. For the most part, they just liked to jam together. Harold had a drum kit in his basement that he'd been playing since middle school, Sid played guitar on a hand-me-down from his cousin and Gerald had a bass he'd gotten two Christmases ago. Arnold had a guitar as well that he sometimes played while he sang but depending on the song, found that to be difficult and usually ended up just singing.

"Hi, Mrs. Berman," Arnold greeted Harold's mom when she opened the door and escorted him through the kitchen to the basement door.

"Mrs. Berman," She gushed, turning to her husband who was sitting at the table reading a newspaper. "Will you listen to him talk, Jerry? What a sweetheart," She turned to yell down the basement steps. "Harold! Your friend Arnold's here!"

"Come on, Arnold!" Harold yelled up impatiently.

"Yeah, we've been waiting forever," Sid added.

"Sid," Gerald said calmly. "You've only been here fifteen minutes,"

"Sorry guys, I got caught in traffic coming back from taking groceries home," Arnold explained as he came down the steps.

The staircase divided the half-finished basement into two sections. On one end was the laundry area with old linoleum tiles, a deep freezer, and some boxes. The other half had old maroon-colored carpeting that looked pretty dingy now and had its fair share of stains. Harold's drum kit was set up near a wall toward the back with some half-hearted attempts at sound-proofing on the walls and ceiling. Sid and Gerald had their instrument cases open but hadn't taken them out yet and there was a microphone stand over by a wall. Sid and Gerald were sitting on a light orangish-brownish couch was up against the wall drinking Yahoo sodas and Harold was already seated on the drum throne, ready to get started.

"Yeah, yeah," Harold picked up his drumsticks and hit the snare pointedly. "Come on, let's go,"

"So Arnold, I see you're still alive twenty-four hours after being partnered with Helga in your science class," Gerald remarked and Harold groaned, putting his drumsticks back down and crossed his arms.

"Yeah," Arnold said, walking over to retrieve the mic stand and pull it out into the middle of the room. "She's actually been pretty… nice, lately so I don't mind,"

"Ha, yeah okay…" Gerald rolled his eyes.

"I really wanna ask Lila out," Sid suddenly blurted out, then his eyes bugged out as he tried to backpeddle. "Oh shit, Arnold. Sorry! I mean, she's my partner for the science thing and I—"

"It's okay, Sid," Arnold put up a hand and shook his head. "I don't care. I haven't liked Lila like that since we were kids,"

Sid let out a huge sigh of relief and reclined back into the couch. "OK, good…"

"How's Phoebe's car?" Arnold directed to Gerald as he tapped the microphone to check that it was on.

Gerald got up off the couch and pulled out his bass from its case as Sid followed suit with his guitar. "It's in the shop but she should have it back either tomorrow or Thursday. They said she needed her starter motor replaced,"

"Oh okay," Arnold said, having no idea what that was. "At least she's getting it back soon. Was her dad mad?"

"Nah," Gerald said, slipping his bass strap over his head. "It wasn't her fault it went up,"

"That's good," Arnold nodded. "Helga's dad was pretty mad about the dent she caused,"

"Yeah… Phoebe told me about that," Gerald said, eyeing him strangely.

"Guys, did you hear about that karaoke place over by P.S. 118?" Sid interrupted. "They're gonna start doing open-mic nights next week and a lot of people from school are talking about checking it out,"

"Alright, let's do it!" Harold exclaimed.

"Works for me," Arnold shrugged.

Gerald nodded. "I'm down,"

Harold started a beat and the guys jammed and hung out for the next few hours.

. . . . . . . .

March 4th

Helga showed up to the boarding house a bit earlier than she'd originally planned. Big Bob had gotten off work early today and was home when she got back from school. The car shop had called that day and it was going to cost $500 to fix the bumper of the sedan.

After being yelled at and arguing with her dad for fifteen minutes, Helga stormed out of the house and walked around for a little while. It wasn't like she'd intentionally messed up the car. And how was she supposed to know how much it would cost to fix something like that? Given the circumstances, it was a good thing she didn't do any more damage than she already did but of course she couldn't explain to her dad the real reason why she'd hit that sign…

By 3:45, Helga had walked around the neighborhood enough and was near Arnold's house anyway so she figured she'd hang around and wait. As she walked down the sidewalk and came closer to the boarding house, Arnold's grandma opened the door, dragging a medium-sized rug down the stoop along with a broom that she must have intended to beat it with. She noticed Helga coming up the sidewalk and adjusted her glasses.

"Oh Eleanor, I'm afraid Kimba hasn't gotten home from school yet," She said kindly.

"That's okay, I know he—wait, Eleanor?" Helga raised an eyebrow.

"You're welcome to come in and wait if you like," Grandma went on. "Shouldn't be too long and it's still a little bit nippy out here,"

"Umm… okay," Helga agreed. "Thanks," She carefully avoided stepping on the rug as she walked up the stoop and hesitated before going inside.

"Go ahead into the sitting room, dear," Grandma said, beating the rug mercilessly as Helga watched, somewhat alarmed. "I'm gonna make sandwiches once I'm done with this ruffian here,"

Helga, wide-eyed, just nodded. "Right, okay,"

The boarding house was almost exactly as Helga remembered it. She hadn't been in here since she was nine and memories of her sneaking in to retrieve some item that would have revealed her secret flooded through her head. She went into the living room and sat down on the couch. The TV was off but an old radio in the corner of the room was playing some kind of old song.

You taught me how to love,
What it's of, what it's of.
You never said too much
But still you showed the way,
And I knew from watching you
Nobody else could ever know
The part of me that can't let go.

Helga found herself listening to the lyrics even as her gaze wandered the room, studying everything from the books on the bookcase to the pictures on the walls.

And I would give anything I own,
Give up my life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own,
Just to have you back again.

She started to think about Arnold and everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. How could it be that she was sitting here on his couch waiting for him to get home when only a few days ago she'd been mourning, crying her grief into her pillow every night? She couldn't lose him again. But what stung her heart even more was knowing that she never really had him in the first place.

Is there someone you know,
You're loving them so,
But taking them all for granted?
You may lose them one day,
Someone takes them away,
And they don't hear the words you long to say.

This brought tears to the corners of Helga's eyes and she sniffled, pawing at her face with the wrist of her sleeve.

"Hey Helga, you're here early," Arnold's voice was suddenly behind her and she jumped, frantically drying her face.

"Oh!" She said, not turning to look at him for fear her face may be red and splotchy, which it was. "Yeah, sorry. I was nearby and your grandma invited me in and—"

"It's no big deal," Arnold said, thankfully paying more attention to getting settled than to why she was acting like a weirdo. Or maybe he was just used to it? "My room is kind of a mess but the boarders are gonna be getting home soon and they'll just bother us while we're trying to work,"

"That's fine," Helga said in a small voice, finally feeling herself calming back down as she stood up to follow him. He's inviting me to his room! Helga swooned in her head.

"So," Arnold said, dropping his backpack onto his bed once they were in his room. "do you have any ideas for what you wanna do?"

"What I want to do?" Helga jumped, her cheeks flushing.

"Yeah," Arnold nodded, pulling out his notebook. "I found this experiment online with red cabbage as a pH indicator. I was thinking we could do that if you didn't have any other ideas,"

"Oh, right… cabbage…" Helga nodded. "Sounds great," Criminy, of course he was talking about the project, you idiot! Calm your ass down!

"Cool," Arnold said, sitting down on his bed. "Umm, Helga, you can sit down if you want. There's a couch right behind you. You don't have to stand,"

"What, me?" Helga once again fumbled with words as she realized how dopey she probably looked still standing in front of the door. "Umm… but, okay so tell me about this cabbage thing," She said, diverting the topic as she sat down on Arnold's red pull-out couch.

"Basically we take the juice from a red cabbage and use that to indicate the pH of different things. It looks pretty simple. I think the hardest part will be standardizing it but we have a week so it shouldn't be that bad," Arnold said, standing up and walking over to his computer. "Here, I'll show you. Come look," He motioned for her to come over. Helga got up and stood behind him, looking over his shoulder as he pulled up a web page that talked about using red cabbage as a pH indicator of various household liquids.

"Works for me," Helga shrugged.

"Okay, great," Arnold said, scooting back from his chair and turning to Helga. Slightly uncomfortable with how close they were, Helga took a step back. It was a struggle to look him in the eye while he was talking to her and not either swoon or fall crying into his arms. "So, all we have to do is boil some red cabbage, test and make sure that the juice actually does change color when we mix it with certain things, and then we'll make a color scale for it, test a few more things and write up our report,"

Helga nodded. "Do you have red cabbage here?"

"No, I'll probably pick some up tomorrow," Arnold said. "What does your schedule look like for the next week? I think we could get most of this done in the next few days if you're available,"

"I'm free," Helga shrugged.

"Okay, so how about I go to the store tomorrow and get some red cabbage and then I'll come to your house?"

"Umm, sure, okay," Helga said. "I won't be home til around 3:30 'cause I have to take the bus now," She added with a hint of bitterness.

"Oh, well do you want me to just give you a ride?" Arnold offered. "You can come with me to the store,"

"Really?" She said, taken aback. "I don't need your charity, Arnold,"

"I was just asking…" Arnold said, slightly annoyed.

"No, no!" Helga back-peddled, "I mean, it's no big deal. You don't have to do that,"

"I know I don't have to," Arnold said. "I want to…I mean, besides, it makes sense since we're going to the same place, right?"

"Right…" Helga said with a slow nod. "Umm, okay then, I guess,"

"Cool," Arnold said, smiling. "I'll see you tomorrow then and we'll get started,"

"That's the plan," Helga said awkwardly as she walked over to the door. "Um… bye Arnold,"

"Bye, Helga," He said as he turned back to his computer, Helga's gaze lingering on him for one extra moment before she pulled the door closed behind her.

[A/N: And there we have it! Thanks for your patience, guys. I wish I could write more frequently. School is intense and we're finally at the end of the semester. However, I hope to get a lot more chapters for this story AND Say Something done once winter break starts. Thanks again for all the love and Happy Thanksgiving! :)

Also, the song in this chapter was "Everything I Own" - Bread]