A/N:
I'm glad if you guys have liked it so far! Thanks again to everybody who's reviewed. I think this chapter should start getting into some fun stuff, although there should be a lot more later... I'm interested in seeing how you guys react!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold.
Chapter 4 :
When it Rains, it Pours
Arnold looked up, a confused expression crossing his face. "Have we met before?" he asked slowly as he stood up and walked toward Helga.
"Ah—err—" she stammered out in shock as Arnold came closer her and she began to panic. "No!" she shouted before realizing she probably sounded crazy. "I—I mean, no, of course not, I'm not from here!" Stupid! He's not from here either!
"I'm not either, actually," Arnold said distractedly as he stepped around the bed to get a good look at her. "Sorry about earlier, I would've introduced myself but I was looking for something... although, you already seem to know my name, so…"
Helga quickly tried to think up an excuse. "Volker told me!"
Arnold began to give her a slightly suspicious look. "Is that why he said that we should introduce ourselves?" The ONE time she needed Arnold to be his oblivious self he decides to be all observant. Figures.
"Um. He meant I should introduce myself but he'd mentioned your name earlier." Arnold raised an eyebrow. Quick, do something! Helga thrust out her hand. "I'm Henrik Patterson." Arnold eyed her hand suspiciously, but cautiously took it.
"Nice to meet you…" He drifted off, and squinted down at her, his height being superior to hers by only a couple inches. He'd always been pretty short for a guy. "Are you sure we haven't met before? I feel like I've heard that name before, and you look really familiar…"
"Uuuh.." Helga frantically tried to think up something to distract him, glancing around to look at anything but him. Say something to distract him! She thought frantically to herself. Arnold leaned closer, to the point where she couldn't avoid his eyes any longer. She tried to think of anything, ANYTHING that she could do to get him to stop scrutinizing her, but her mind had gone blank. "I—You—um..." Just say anything! The first thing that pops into your head! "You have really beautiful eyes."
She cringed and cursed herself the moment it was out of her mouth.
Arnold leaned back just a little too fast.
"Ah," He said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away uncomfortably, "Thanks, I guess…"
Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!
"I havetogotothebathroom." Not bothering to see if he'd caught her mumbled excuse, she whipped around and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Arnold was left standing alone and very confused in the middle of the room.
Helga found herself plastered against the wall of the small bathroom, her heart beating a mile a minute. Stupid! She cursed herself again. Why had they ever thought this was going to work? She'd just started and already the façade was crumbling before her eyes. And what the heck is Arnold doing here anyway?
She sunk down the wall, putting her head in her hands and closing her eyes. Arnold. He was here, at the one time in her life when she didn't want to see him. Apparently she hadn't listened close enough when she'd thought Gerald had said Arnold was going to a camp for the summer. This was definitely not camp; this was summer school. But what were the chances that they'd actually end up at the same one? Beyond sharing a room with Danny Usher himself, this was just about the worst luck she could have.
Then again… It was actually Arnold sitting in the other room. Arnold, not some other random person who knew her. Arnold, the love of her life! If he didn't find out who she really was and throw her out, then she'd be spending the entire summer sharing a room with him. Her heart beat a little faster, if that was possible at this point. She had always wanted to spend more time with him… she just hadn't expected to be pretending to be somebody else when she did it.
I couldn't actually tell him, could I? She pondered this thought for a minute before dismissing it. Arnold had always been generous, forgiving, and in general the most accepting and good hearted person she'd ever known. In middle school when the boys had tried to stop letting her join in their games, he had been the only one to stand up for her. When she thought back through the years, her golden hearted angel had been there for her more than she'd ever realized: When someone poured punch on her at the first high school dance, he sat with her. When Big Patty had wanted to beat her up, Arnold had been the one to talk her out of it. When he'd held out an umbrella for her in his tiny hand on the first day of preschool…
She fought the urge to swoon as she remembered all of the times Arnold had saved her neck. But he couldn't save her from this. This really was a matter of life and death. And if she DID tell him, she was sure he'd blow her cover. Arnold was too much of a gentleman to knowingly share a room with a girl and lie about it for a whole summer. She couldn't let him find out.
With a deep breath, she opened her eyes and stood up. Bracing her hands against the sink, she looked forward at her reflection in the mirror. A brown haired boy stared back at her. A boy with her face. Henrik Patterson.
No, the disguise wasn't perfect. Yes, Arnold had recognized her. So be it. He would just have to live with his suspicion; she'd deny it up one side and down the other if he asked her. Let him be the crazy one.
With newfound confidence, she opened the door and left the tiny bathroom. Casually strutting over to her bed and sitting down, she addressed Arnold.
"So," she said, "What made you decide to spend your summer here, of all places?" Better to keep the focus on him.
Arnold had moved back to his bed and was stuffing the clothes and other items he'd strewn about earlier back into his bag. "Well," he began, not bothering to turn towards her but instead choosing to focus on his packing, "I was kind of thinking of becoming a Doctor, and I figured that to get into medical school I'd need to be ahead of the game on education. Plus my friend Gerald was already going, so… What about you?"
Oh great, Helga groaned to herself, Gerald's here too? Who's next, Stinky? She kept these feelings to herself when she answered. "Oh, you know, the usual; just preparing for college and all of that good ol' stuff. So," she said, turning the focus back on him, "Did you find what you were looking for earlier?"
Arnold continued to avoid her eyes as he moved his bag over to the closet. "No, I didn't."
Helga frowned as she watched, following him with her eyes. She got the feeling that he wanted to avoid the topic. Or he just thought she was crazy. Maybe she'd weirded him out a little too much? As if that'll stop me… "So what was it?"
"What was what?" he casually replied with his back still turned to her, though he appeared to be done at the closet.
She eyed him suspiciously. He was definitelyplaying dumb. "The thing you were looking for when I came in."
"Oh, uh, that. It was just… something that I forgot to bring." Helga stared at him curiously, silently questioning him. What are you hiding, Arnold? Just as she opened her mouth to press the issue, their door opened and Mr. Volker walked in. He hadn't bothered to knock.
"It seems that we will be seeing a lot of each other, Mr. Patterson," the older man spoke as he handed Helga a piece of paper. "This is your schedule. Don't lose it, and don't be late." He turned to leave.
"Hey!" Helga called after him. "Don't I get any choice in my own classes?"
Mr. Volker popped his wrinkly balding head back into the room. "As I said before, that is a privilege of those who arrive on time. And young man, you will address me as 'Mr. Volker' or 'Professor Volker'. If you have any more questions, go ask someone else." With that, he disappeared back into the hallway.
Helga looked down at the paper in her hands with dread. Hesitantly, she examined listed classes that had apparently been less popular with her peers. Arnold watched with mild interest from the other side of the room.
Period 1: Performance Poetry Instructor: James Volker
Period 2: Introduction to Creative Writing Instructor: James Volker
Period 3: Trigonometry Instructor: Matthew Manning
Period 4: AP Biology Instructor: Henry Burn
Period 5: History of Poetry Instructor: James Volker
Helga groaned and flopped back against her bed, throwing her arm over her eyes. Performance Poetry? With Volker? Really? Some sort of higher power was out to humiliate her, she was sure of it. How else could someone be so unlucky?
The bed sank down next to her and she realized that Arnold must have sat down. "It can't be that bad." She heard his voice and moved her arm slightly to peak up at him. He seemed to have forgotten about her strange behavior earlier. He never had been able to resist solving everyone else's problems…
"Did you get to pick your classes?" she asked and handed him her schedule.
"Yeah, but…" He examined the paper carefully, "you only have five classes. I've got six. That's something."
She snorted. "Right, three poetry classes, a math class that I've already taken, and advanced placement biology? The last time I took a biology class was freshman year. Yeah, this summer is starting out just great."
She peaked at him again and saw him studying her schedule, a troubled look on his face. "Well, it looks like we're in the same biology class. Maybe I could help you?" He looked over to her for a response. She melted a little inside when she caught the concern gleaming in his green eyes. There he goes again, she thought, always trying to solve someone else's problem.
She pushed herself up with both hands so she could sit next to him. "Fine, if it'll ease your conscience, Foo—uh, foo…fool." Her heart was beating about ten times too fast again. That was close… I almost called him "Football head"! Arnold looked at her like she'd grown a second head. He must've noticed her stumble. Quick, think of an excuse! "S-so-so I have a stutter. You going to make fun of me for it now?" Brilliant! He wouldn't question something like that, would he?
"Did you just call me a fool?"
Oh. So that was his problem. Well, that one was easy enough to explain. "Well yeah, anyone stupid enough to offer to tutor someone they just met qualifies as a fool." The excuse came out easily, having used similar ones many times before.
"Right," he said, sounding mildly irritated, "well, if you ever decide you want my help, you know where to find me." He stood up and walked over to one of his desks.
Helga winced a little. Did she have to be so mean to him, even when she was pretending to be someone else? Not sure how else to spend her evening, Helga left the room to figure out where all of her classes were and wander the halls until dinner time.
She was standing in a field of flowers. Bright yellow blossoms tickled her calves. The sun shone bright above her and she closed her eyes, feeling the warmth on her skin.
"Helga?"
Arnold's smooth voice came from behind her, and she turned to find him standing behind her. A great and powerful emotion swelled up insider her, and she ran towards him. "Arnold, my love…" She trailed off upon reaching him and entering his embrace. His strong arms encircled her and she reveled in the feel of them. She was finally content, finally in the place she'd wanted to be for almost her entire life…
A searing pain suddenly ran through her abdomen. Pushing herself back, she looked up into Arnold's face, only to find that he was not there anymore. Instead, Danny Usher grinned back at her with his moldy green and blue eyes. The arms around her suddenly felt like shackles, chaining her to this man and pulling her closer. Around them the flowers wilted and the sky darkened. The pain came again, sharper this time. In horror she looked down and found a knife sticking out of her, Danny's hand attached to it. She screamed.
Helga jolted awake, breathing heavily in the darkness. Her skin was slick with sweat. What a nightmare… She flopped down against her pillow and took a second just to take stock of where she was. The dorm room was silent with the exception of her own breathing, and Arnold's light snoring from the other side of the room. When she turned her head, she could just make out the lump of his form on his bed. She took a deep breath to calm herself, only to panic as the pain in her abdomen returned.
Frantically she shoved herself out of bed, but ended up falling to the floor as her legs tangled themselves in the sheets. The sheets were hastily ripped off before she ran to the bathroom, shutting the door and turning on the light. Once inside, she pulled at the waistline of the boxer shorts she was wearing and examined herself. The skin was smooth and unmarred. She sighed in relief, but soon realized how full her bladder was and made her way to the toilet.
The sight of her blood had her panicking again for a couple seconds before she realized what was going on. Cautiously she made her way out of the bathroom and fumbled for her bag in the darkness. After several minutes of nervous searching, she found some "supplies" (carefully hidden at the very bottom of her bag, of course) and returned to the bathroom. As she went about her business, she came to the realization that she was probably the only one in the entire building right now who actually had a "time of the month". Suddenly she felt very out of place; a single woman adrift in a sea of men. While washing her hands, she watched herself in the mirror. The brown wig was still in place (if a bit messy), and her baggy t-shirt and boxers did a good enough job at masking her figure… but it was just a façade. Even her body seemed to be revolting against it. She didn't belong here. She was an outsider, and anyone with eyes and a brain could figure it out.
With one last glance at herself she flipped the light off and returned to bed. Eventually she fell into a troubled sleep.
