Author's Note: Eep! Sorry I took awhile to update. I have a lot of stories I work on, and I try to juggle them, but eventually the ones I find most interesting always wind up taking priority (this is one of the interesting projects to me…the problem is I always want to start new projects before I finish old ones. I need a secretary, or at least someone to scream at me and tell me to finish what I've started before I start new projects….) Thanks to all of those who have reviewed so far, I plan on sending each of you a personal response within the next few days. Please be patient with me! Thank you very much for not complaining in any replies, and a special thanks to whomever it was over on deviantart who specifically asked for this to update.

Helga stood at the door to the Sunset Arms, trying to steal her nerves. "You can do this, Helga," she tried to pep-talk herself. "Just go right in there, and be nice. All you have to do is help him with his English homework and eat dinner with him. That's really not that hard…I can do this…"

She took a deep breath.

"I can't do this," she decided, turning around. But before she'd even made it off the steps, the door opened. A wave of animals rushed out at her, knocking her off balance.

"Why, Eleanor! Is that you?" Arnold's grandmother stood in the doorframe, watching Helga intently. She didn't wait for a response. "Well of course it is! Get in here, Franky's waitin' for you!" Before Helga could object, Gertie had seized her by the arm and practically dragged her inside.

"Pookie, is that you?" Arnold's grandfather poked his head out from around the corner. "Oh, if it isn't the little mean girl Arnold's friends with! Did you come over to see him?"

Helga nodded weakly, staring over his shoulder, praying for an exit. She'd never really had to talk to the pair on her own before, and it was making her nervous. "Look, if he's not here, maybe I should just come back later…"

"Now don't be silly!" Phil insisted. "Arnold's just up in his room. You can go right up and see him, you remember where it is, right?" Helga coughed awkwardly. She'd hoped they'd forgotten she'd been there before, especially given the circumstances of that visit.

"That's right, Franky told me you'd be here for dinner. Which is just wonderful, Eleanor, we'll catch up then. But now I'm sure you want to see him," Gertie gave her a gentle push towards the stairs. "Go tell him dinner's at the usual time…and I won't make him wear the hat if he's that against it."

Helga mouthed the word "hat" at Phil, who shrugged. "It's best just to go along with it. Safter that way, trust me. Now go on, Shortman's waiting for you."

Feeling there was no way to back out now, Helga made her way up the stairs to Arnold's room. She took each step as slowly as she could, her eyes never glancing up from the floor. Which of course meant that she didn't see Arnold coming. Like so many times before, when she reached the top of the stairs the two collided with one another. He reacted fast enough to grab her wrist and pull her forward so that she wouldn't fall down the stairs, but it also made her fall right on top of him.

"Umm…thanks," Helga said, rising to her feet and brushing herself off. She extended her hand to Arnold, and helped him up. "But if you would have watched where you're going, it wouldn't have happ--" she slapped both hands over her mouth, and then started to bang her head against a nearby wall. Arnold grabbed her and pulled her back.

"It's all right, Helga," He chuckled. "I'm kinda used to it. My room's down the hall, we can go work there."

"Hey, Arnold, you look very cute with your little sweetheart!" Oskar called out, poking his head out of the room.

Arnold ignored him, but Helga made a fist at the older man, who merely shrugged. "Oskar, stop teasing Arnold and come help me!" Susie appeared at the door and dragged him inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Sorry about that," Arnold apologized. Neither he nor Helga was making eye contact. Both studied the floor as they walked along, unsure what to do with the situation. He opened the door to his room and motioned for her to go in, but he didn't shut the door behind them.

"All right, buck-o, what's your problem with the English homework?" Without the prying eyes, Helga felt a bit more relaxed, but just barely.

The mention of homework allowed Arnold to focus on something other than the proverbial elephant in the room. He was glad of the distraction, and eagerly took his notebook out, setting it on the desk. "It's just this labeling thing…you know, sentence structures. I was wondering if you could double check it for me?"

Helga glanced over the paper he handed her, and shook her head. "The only mistake you made was you identified this word," she pointed at the paper, "as an adjective. It's an adverb."

"Oh, right…thanks, Helga."

"Is that all, Football Head?" Helga asked, resting her head in the palm of her hand and studying him. "You made it sound like there was a lot more."

"Well…no. Plus there's dinner."

"True," Helga agreed.

"Hey, Helga…about those poems you write…"

Her eyes narrowed. "What about them?"

"I was just wondering…would you let me see some of them?"

"No," she shook her head. "No way."

"All right. So…how long do they take?"

"Why are you so hung up on this?"

"I dunno," Arnold admitted, rolling his pencil against his thumb and index finger, thinking. "I was just watching you on the bus, and it seemed like it all came to you so naturally…"

"Filling books of poetry about you!"

The words from the Fti incident echoed in Arnold's head. "I was just wondering where it all came from."

"That, Arnoldo, is personal. So back off."

"You know, you don't have to be so defensive all the time. We're at least friends, aren't we?"

She considered. "I don't know…"

"C'mon, Helga. I know you're a nicer person than you act like. The secret's out, you may as well be upfront about it."

"Secret?" Helga tensed. Arnold realized what she thought he'd meant and quickly backpedaled.

"I meant about you being nice!" he clarified, almost desperately. "That you're not as mean as you pretend to be. That you're actually a really caring person, deep down. You just need to show it more."

"Why do you always think that?" Helga's voice had grown soft. She fiddled with Arnold's alarm clock rather than look at him. "You've always insisted I'm this nice person, no matter how mean or awful I am to you. Why?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I was right. With what you did to save the neighborhood, Helga…no mean person would have done that."

"Arnold, I--"

"All right, Mr. President sir, you and Eleanor need to come down for dinner!" Gertie interrupted whatever Helga had been about to say. "I hope you brought your appetite, Eleanor!"

"Helga, what were you about to say?" Arnold asked when his grandma had left the room.

"Just that…I…I…"

"Shortman, where are you? If you don't get down here we're gonna let Oskar eat yours and your little friend's share!" Phil called up.

"Coming, grandpa!" Arnold called after him. "I guess we should head to dinner. They'll just keep calling after us until we go down."

"Okay."

"Promise me something?"

"What?" Hela looked at him suspiciously. She knew Arnold well enough to know it wouldn't be something awful, but she was still worried. What kind of promise did he expect her to make?

Arnold shoved his hands into his pockets. "I want to know what you were about to say. Tell me after dinner?"

Helga sighed. "We'll see, Football Head."