Hello again, everyone! Thanks again for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. I'm a little disappointed in myself that I didn't have this chapter up earlier but I've been making revision after revision for the past two weeks mainly stemming from catching the "Parents Day' episode on 'The '90s Are All That' on TeenNick. Anyway, I know I promised more, shall we say, "excitement" but I promise that I'll eventually get there. But for now, please enjoy a bit more of the backstory. As always, thanks for reading and please feel free to review!

On a side note, I don't own HA!, Def Leppard, TNBC, The Hangover, Iron Man, or any other music/movie/TV show I may have mentioned.

Phoebe listened quietly as I re-hashed every detail of that evening's events. "Phoebe, what the hell am I gonna do?" I meekly muttered as I finished. She didn't immediately respond and I could tell she was carefully considering her next statement. After another moment, she softly spoke.

"Helga, why are you so freaked out by this?"

"Because, Phoebe, you know how I feel about 'ice cream'." I heard her sigh on the other end. "What?" I barked.

"What are you so scared of?"

"Who said I was scared?" I snapped into the phone, more than a little annoyed by the insinuation of her last question.

"Helga, this isn't like being in preschool. No one is going to laugh at you or make fun of you anymore."

I shook my head. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

I exhaled slowly before answering. "Phoebe, you know how much I regret how poorly I treated him. If I can't get over it, how can he so easily?"

"That's just the way Arnold is. He's always been able to forgive and forget."

"But still, Phoebe –"

"We all grow up. You know that. I know that. Arnold knows that. You said he's willing to let the past be the past. Take this as an opportunity to show him who you really are."

"And what if that backfires?"

"Helga," she said sternly, "you acted like yourself tonight, didn't you? And he asked you to come back over next Friday. I'd say that that's a good sign. I mean, come on. This is Arnold we're talking about. He wears his heart out on his sleeve. He wouldn't have asked if he didn't want you to come back."

Damn Phoebe and her logic. "Maybe you're right."

"You know I'm right," she giggled down the line.

I smiled. "Thanks, Phoebs."

"No problem."

"Oh, and Phoebe?"

"Yes, Helga?"

"This conversation never happened."

"Forgetting."

"'Night, Phoebe."

"Goodnight, Helga."

I clicked the phone off and quickly got ready for bed. It was nearly 4am before I finally crawled under the covers. I was out cold as soon as my head hit the pillow and that night, I had the most amazing dream.

I was back on top of the FTi building. I watched as the door to the roof flung open and out he walked. He was just like that night: black slacks, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and black tie. The only difference was, instead of a 9 year-old Arnold, I was facing a 19 year-old Arnold. The cold wind had turned his cheeks a rosy hue and his flaxen locks whipped around his face. His soft lips were curled back into a sly smile as he slowly approached me, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart began to pound. Those eyes…when he looked at me, they pierced into the very being of my soul. We were just inches apart. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in close. I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. I saw his mouth move. He was saying something but I couldn't hear over the sound of the howling wind as well as my pulse thudded in my ears. "What?" I yelled.

He bent down, lips just grazing my earlobe. His earthy scent filled the air and his hot breath against my neck nearly brought me to my knees. "Helga," he whispered, "it's taken me so long to realize the truth." He pulled back. Once again, I was completely absorbed in those emerald pools. He gently placed his hand under my chin. He tilted my face closer towards his. Closer…closer…our lips were almost touching. I could now hear his every word as clear as a bell, as if the whole world had stopped spinning simply to witness this moment. "Helga Geraldine Pataki, I lo-"

"PATAKI! WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

I shot straight up. In my half dazed state, I searched for the source of the voice that had so abruptly ruined my fantasy. Sam was standing at the foot of my bed, grinning from ear to ear. "Sam, what the hell are you doing here? What time is it?" I said groggily as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

"Noon. Now spill it. What happened between you and Shortman last night?" she said excitedly, plopping down by my feet.

"This couldn't wait a few more hours?"

"No."

I stifled a yawn. "We just talked for a while and watched a movie." I could tell that she wasn't buying it. "It's the truth! Seriously. Nothing went on. We're just friends."

"Bullshit, Pataki. You totally like him."

I bit my tongue as I tried to keep both the fear and anger from rising in my chest. How the hell does she know? As close as I had become with Sam, there were still things I hadn't shared with her about my past. No one knows that besides Phoebe and – It dawned on me."Sam,' I said as steadily as possible, "it's strictly platonic. If you don't believe me, ask Arnold yourself."

Her smile faded, giving way to a look of disappointment. "I already did and that's exactly what he said." On the outside, my demeanor didn't change but inside I was breathing a sigh of relief.

I was really hoping that that would be the end of the subject. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Sam's smile quickly returned, now twisted into a devilish grin. "But, you are hanging out with him again next weekend, right?" Dammit.

"That's the game plan," I said casually. Sam let out a squeal of delight.

"Criminy! Get a hold of yourself! It doesn't mean anything."

"Sure. Whatever you say, Helga." She winked. I caught her large brown eyes and gave her a glare that meant business.

"Look, Sam, my relationship with Arnold is complicated. So stop."

She could tell by my tone that she was dangerously close to stepping over a line that she didn't want to cross. She quickly relented. "OK. OK. Geez."

I flopped back into my pillows. Between Sam's lovely wake-up call and my mind still scrutinizing every little detail of what had occurred last night, I was starting to feel the pangs of a massive headache coming on. All I wanted to do was spend the rest of the day in bed. But I had promised to review Sam's American Lit paper that afternoon and I had my own classes to catch up on. I pulled the one of the pillows over my face and decided to close my eyes for one more brief moment before getting I did, a glint of forest green eyes flashed into my mind, the sound of throaty laughter ringing in my ears. I groaned. Is it Friday yet?

The week passed in a flurry of homework, exams, and papers. Before I knew it, Friday classes were over and I was back in the dorms. Sam still had one last lecture for the day so I had an hour to kill before she got back. I decided to take this as an opportunity to veg out and troll the interwebs for a while. First stop: Facebook. I logged into my account for the first time in days. Two little red icons popped up in the upper left hand of the screen. I clicked the first one. 'Arnold Shortman has sent you a friend request.' Big surprise there. I smirked as I clicked the 'Accept' button. I moved to the next notification. Again, it was from Arnold.

Arnold Shortman: Hey. Hadn't heard from you this week. Are we still on for tomorrow?

Tomorrow? I checked the time stamp. Sent Thursday at 11:32AM. Shit. He probably thinks I bailed on him. I scanned the chat availability list at the side and saw he was signed on. I clicked on his name and reeled off a brief message in the chat box.

Helga Pataki: Hey. Sorry about not getting back to you sooner. Had a paper due in Psych on Wednesday and an exam in Econ today so I've been neglecting FB. But, yes, we're still on for tonight.

Almost instantaneously, a response popped up.

Arnold Shortman: Hey. No worries. Just wanted to make sure you didn't forget. ;) Haha.

Forget I had plans with you? Never in a million years, my towheaded angel. "Stop it, you sap," I said aloud, shaking away the dreamy thoughts that were creeping into my mind. "You cannot keep doing this." I tapped out another message.

Helga Pataki: Anything you want me to bring over?

Arnold Shortman: Nope. Not unless there's something in particular you want to watch.

Helga Pataki: I'll tell you what. I'll bring a few DVDs with me. If nothing seems interesting, we can watch one of yours."

Arnold Shortman: Cool. Sounds like a plan. Well, I've still got a few things I need to do this afternoon so I gotta go. See you at 7!

Helga Pataki: Sure. See ya.

As his name disappeared from the chat list, I felt a wave of uneasiness hit my stomach. I tried to ignore the feeling but found that, the longer I just sat there, the worse it became. I got up and began to pace around the room. Three more hours. Three more hours. Three more hours. The more I thought about it, the more anxious I became. I needed somewhere else to focus my attention. I plunked down on the floor next to my bed and pulled out a Rubbermaid bin of DVDs. I carefully perused my collection to try to find something worth watching and settled on The Hangover, Iron Man, and, just for kicks, The Nightmare Before Christmas. I was just sliding the bin back under my bed when I heard someone fumbling with keys in the doorknob. I got up and opened door to let Sam in.

She didn't say a word as she haphazardly flung her bookbag down by her desk. She immediately walked over to the dresser we shared and began rifling through my half of the drawers.

"Uh, Sam? Wrong side." She kept digging. No response. OK. That's a little irritating. I tried to get her attention again. "You know, if you want to borrow something, just tell me what it is and I can probably find it faster." Still nothing. Now I was severely pissed off. "Sam, get the fuck out of my stuff!"

"Not until I find something for you to wear on your date tonight," she stated, not even breaking her concentration on the task at hand.

I bit my tongue to avoid boiling over. "Did you happen to forget our little conversation from last week?" I seethed, "It. Is. Not. A. Date. And why exactly do I need to change what I have on?"

Sam stopped long enough to quickly eye me over. She simply shook her head and began searching again. "Seriously, would it kill you to try to look at least a little feminine for once, Pataki? Even if it isn't a date?"

I glanced down at my skinny jeans, Def Leppard t-shirt, and black zip-up hoodie. What the hell's wrong with what I have on? I normally would have argued with her about this but I was more put off by her ceaseless exploration of everything I owned. "You want feminine? Fine," I huffed. "Move it, sister!" I shoved her out of the way and pulled open the bottom drawer. I rooted around in the back until I grabbed a small round tin. Carefully opening it, I spilled the contents into my hand. Inside were the few real pieces of jewelry I owned. A diamond pendant necklace. A plain silver ring. A pair of diamond stud earrings. And my two most prized possessions: a gold locket, still housing the seventh grade picture of a certain golden-haired, green-eyed boy and a delicate piece of slightly frayed pink ribbon. I plucked the ribbon out and dumped the remaining pieces back in the can. I pulled my ponytail holder out of the bun I was currently sporting and shook my hair out, letting it cascade loosely down my back. I wrapped the ribbon around my head and tied it off to the side into a small bow. I turned to face Sam. "There. You happy?"

"I suppose that'll do," she sighed. "Still think you should show some cleavage," I heard her mumble under her breath.

"Sam, give it a break."

She gave in. "Fine, Helga. But I still think you've got the hots for him."

"For the final time, WE ARE JUST FRIENDS." Seriously, why can't she just let this go? Of course she was right. But I wasn't about to confess everything to her. Especially not about 'ice cream'. Hell, I had never even told Phoebe outright. She had been smart enough not only to deduce how I really felt years ago but to also leave it at that. An assumption that didn't need to be verbally validated. Sam, however, wasn't Phoebe. She had to know whether her guess was right or wrong. All week long she had been badgering me to open up and confirm her suspicions. It was exasperating. "Sam, what can I say that will get you to believe me?"

"The truth."

I had finally had enough. "You want the truth? All right. Let me give you a little background about the relationship Arnold and I have had."

She clapped her hands with delight. "Oh goody! Story time!"

"Let me make one thing clear though, Reynolds. What I'm about to tell you is to NEVER leave this room. Ever. Capeesh?"

"Scout's honor."

I flopped down on the couch with Sam following suit. "The first time I ever met Arnold Shortman, I was four years old. The day had started out a nightmare. First, I had to walk the seven blocks from my house to Urban Tots Preschool in the rain by myself. On the way there, a taxi drove through a mud puddle and soaked me from head to toe. And, to top it all off, a dog stole my lunch that day. -"

"Wait a minute," Sam interrupted. "Did you just say that, at four, you walked to preschool ALONE?"

"Yes." She stared at me in disbelief.

"What?! Why?!"

Oh here we go…"Let me explain something to you about my happy little home life back then. Miriam was the definition of a non-functioning alcoholic. As a toddler, I remember having to take care of myself a good 8 to 10 hours a day because she would either be passed out on the floor or she'd be fending off her oncoming hangover with one of her patented 'smoothies' which consisted of at least 75% alcohol. Then, there was Big Bob the workaholic. He was never home. He always said he had to work late, to quote unquote, 'make sure his company hit profit targets'. Years later, it turned out that that really meant he was screwing his personal assistant after hours. Anyway, when Bob did bother to make it home at a decent hour, it was only for Olga's sake. Wonderful, angelic, popular, perfect Olga. She lived in her own little world. I think she intentionally took on as many hobbies and lessons as she did just so she could block out reality. Finally, there was me. I was the afterthought. Always on the back burner. Never wanted. Never noticed. Never cared for. Nothing."

Sam's mouth had dropped to the floor. "Holy shit, Pataki. That is so messed up."

"You don't have to tell me that. I lived it," I said glumly. "Anyway, getting back to the real story. By the time I reached Urban Tots, I was cold, wet, and absolutely miserable. I just wanted to be indoors as fast as possible. I was so focused on getting inside that I didn't even initially notice I wasn't getting rained on anymore. When I finally did, I turned to face a funny looking little kid with a weird shaped head holding an umbrella over me. I'll give you one guess who it was."

"Arnold."

"Bingo." I let out a sigh as I reminisced. "I'll never forget the first words he ever said to me. 'Hi. Nice bow. I like your bow because it's pink like your pants.' They were the simplest phrases but it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me before. I was completely dumbfounded and yet, I reveled in that brief instant of attention and kindness. That same afternoon, a kid stole my graham crackers at snack time. I was on the verge of tears until I realized someone was offering me theirs. Again, there he was. I couldn't believe it. Even at that age, he was unbelievably sweet and thoughtful and he was genuinely compassionate towards others. It made my heart melt. But then the other kids noticed my behavior and started teasing me for it. I couldn't handle it. Their laughter made my blood boil. So you know how I repaid Arnold for his kindness? From that day on, I took all my anger I felt towards others out on him. I became his personal tormentor. I bullied him. Relentlessly. And it only got worse as we got older. Spitballs to the back of the head every class. Constant name calling. Threatening to beat him up almost daily. Mind you I never actually physically harmed the kid but it had to have fucked with his head. In fact, head games were my specialty. It got so bad that, one time, I called him at least twice an hour for 24 hours with the exact countdown to his death after a classmate challenged him to a fight the next day." I sat there and hung my head. "Things were not good between us, Sam. Not good at all. But day after day, he'd take it in stride. He may not have liked me but he was still always kind to me, even when I was at my worst. I'm not sure how or why he did it, but he did. This all went on until I left Hillwood. In the years since I moved away, that part of me that lashed out slowly died away. And while I've learned that I had every right to be angry, it doesn't negate the fact that the way I handled it was unacceptable. Thinking about it literally makes me sick. I've never been able to forgive myself for all of that, Sam. I've always wanted to make things right with Arnold. To say how incredibly sorry for everything. To genuinely thank him for always being the only one who seemed to give a damn about me. But I always considered that wishful thinking. I never actually expected to see him again. So when I saw him last week, not only was I in complete shock but I was also extremely ashamed. I'm not that wretched little girl anymore. Far from it. But he wouldn't have known that. I honestly thought he'd take off screaming as soon as he realized it was me. But he didn't. Instead, he actually wanted me to stay. He was willing to let it all go. I don't know if that's because he has truly forgiven me for all the shit I put him through but I do know that I'm going to take full advantage of this second chance. I want show him who I am today. And, frankly, I'm terrified to. I feel like this 'friendship', if you could even really call it that, is already teetering on edge. I'd just really like for him to get to know the real me without him thinking it's because of some ulterior motive other than being his friend. OK?"

Sam nodded her head in understanding. I slumped back into the couch cushions, suddenly fatigued. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. "Sam, what time is it?"

She checked her wristwatch. "6:15."

That late already? "Shit. I still need to go grab dinner."

"Don't bother. I checked on the walk back and your choices are either undercooked fish or burned chicken."

"Fantastic. Takeout it is."An idea suddenly popped into my head. "Actually… Hey, Sam? What kind of pizza does Arnold like?"

"Pepperoni and sausage. Why?" Comprehension slowly dawned on her and a Cheshire grin spread across her face. "If you think that'll help win him over, it's a start."

At 7 o'clock on the dot, I rapped twice on the fraternity house door. Within seconds, it opened and I was greeted by a gleaming football head. "Glad to see you made it."

"I said I would." I quickly squeezed into the hallway to avoid lingering in the cold winter air, handing him the pizza box and shopping bag I had been carrying. "Hope you're hungry."

He lifted the lid and took a peek inside. "Pepperoni and sausage. How'd you know?"

"I have my ways." I smirked.

"That was really nice of you, Helga. Thanks."

"You're welcome," I said as I slipped out of my coat. As I hung it on a hook, I noticed he was still watching me. "What?"

"Nothing." He flashed another dazzling smile. "By the way, the bow's a nice touch. Pink always was your color."

I reached up and touched the ribbon behind my ear as I practically oozed into a puddle on the floor. I knew I was blushing profusely. "Thank you," I said quietly as I followed him.

He set the pizza box on the table and carried the DVDs over to the entertainment center. "Mind grabbing some plates and napkins from the kitchen? It's on the other side of this wall."

"Sure." I walked around the corner of the room to find an opening off to the right. I snatched up a handful of paper plates and fast food napkins that were already sitting on the counter and made my way back towards the living room. He was still setting up the DVD player so, while his back was turned, I took gave him a once over. He wore khakis and a cranberry colored t-shirt, the letters ΘΖΧ emblazoned in bone white across the chest. His hair, which I originally thought was wet, was actually slicked back with gel. God, he looks great. A twinge of pleasure shot up my spine. At that moment, he glanced up from where he was kneeling. I tried to regain my composure and smiled down at him. "So, uh, what'd you end up picking?"

"You'll just have to wait and see." I furrowed my eyebrows and put a hand on my hip. Arnold chuckled. "There's the Helga I remember." I stuck my tongue out at him as we sat down and grabbed a slice of pizza each.

The opening camera shot was spiraling down to a ring of trees with holiday doors. "Really?" I shot him a quizzical look.

He shrugged his shoulders. "What? It's a good movie."

We demolished the pizza in minutes and settled in for the night. We were a little more than two-thirds of the way through, at the point where Jack Skellington delivers the first Halloween Town Christmas present, when there was a loud knock on the front door. "It's open!" Arnold yelled and we heard it open and slam shut.

A syrupy voice called out from the hallway. "Arnie-poo! Is that you?" Arnie-poo? I expected some sort of reaction from this sickening pet name but Arnold didn't even flinch. A minute later, a petite blonde bounced into the room. She immediately targeted him and literally flew into his lap. "Oooooooh Arnold! I'm so happy to see you! I have so much to tell you!" She flung her arms around his chest and held him tight to her tiny frame. Who the fuck is this? I narrowed my eyes as I studied the little intruder. She couldn't have been more than 5 feet tall. Her bleach-blonde hair was stick-straight and fell barely past her shoulders. Makeup was caked all over her face and she was wearing black Uggs, a skin-tight black skirt, and a white halter-top with a plunging neckline. Is she insane?! It's only 30 degrees out! Her hazel eyes never left his face as she rambled on. Arnold seemed equally entranced by her. Jealousy and anger reared their ugly heads as my face began to burn.

"…And then he said I kept doing this well on the tests, I might be able to sit out on the final! Isn't that great?" She gave him a dopey grin.

"That's wonderful news, Colleen." Arnold placed an arm around her and gave her a small squeeze. She giggled and looked deep into his eyes. Another wave of rage rolled over me.

"You know, Arnold, if I end up getting out of the final, we should have a little celebration." She batted her eyelashes at him and snuggled in closer. I had to force myself to refrain from balling my fists at my side.

"I think we could do that. We'll have to do something really special," he smiled coyly.

"Ooooooh. I'd like that. Maybe we could even get started early. Like tonight?" She started twirling a stray lock of her hair around her finger as she bit her lip. If I have to watch anymore of this, I'm gonna vomit. I cleared my throat loudly to get Arnold's attention.

That seemed to do it. He glanced over at me and snapped back to reality. "I'd like to, sweetie, but I'm kind of in the middle something." He gestured towards me and then the TV. It was only then that the bimbo seemed to realize I was even there. She turned to face me and frowned.

"I see. And you are?"

I laid on a thick layer of sweetness to my voice but it did little to hide my disgust. "Helga."

She rolled her eyes and went back to solely acknowledging Arnold. "Well, Arnie-poo, I'll leave you to the rest of your evening." She managed to peel herself off of him and started making her way to the side door. "Call me tomorrow!" She blew him a kiss as she waltzed out the door.

I briefly glanced over at the TV screen. By this time, we had missed the entire ending of the movie. We sat there in silence for a few minutes letting the credits roll until Arnold finally got up to change out the DVD. I was on the verge of a classic Helga freak out so I forced myself to take a few deep breaths before I tried to speak.

"Arnold," I managed to eek out through gritted teeth, "who, or should I say what, the fuck was that?"

He shrugged. "That's Colleen."

Colleen, huh? Her name alone made me seethe. Who does that bitch think she is?! And was all that necessary? I mean, geez, it was like she was staking claim on him or something. I was suddenly smacked with the realization that maybe it was I who was walking into her territory. The thought alone made me nauseous. I'm going to be sick. There was only one way to quell this feeling but I dreaded the answer. However, my need to know outweighed this apprehension. I had to ask. "How long have you two been together?"

I was blown away by his response. Arnold burst into laughter. "Who? Me and Colleen? Never in a million years." He continued to chuckle as he shook his head.

I instantly switched back into anger mode. "Then what the hell was that all about?"

"That's just Colleen being Colleen. Her moniker around here is the Fraternity Flirt. The guys don't consider you a real brother until she hits on you."

"You're shitting me."

"Nope. And, besides, she's not my type."

"Then why would you egg her on like that? I thought you two would have literally dry-humped the shit out of each other had I not done something."

"Yeah. Sorry about that." He blushed and averted his to anywhere but my face. "Things got a little carried away."

"You think?" I folded my arms in front of my chest and glared at him.

"Look, I'm sorry. I don't always realize I'm doing it. It's been so long since a girl's actually shown any interest in me that I kinda get lost in all of the attention."

This piqued my interest. "What do you mean it's been 'so long'? How long is 'so long'?"

"Two years."

"That's a good one, hair boy. Now tell me the real number." From the look he shot me, I could tell he wasn't kidding. "Seriously, Arnold?"

"Seriously."

I was astonished by this. "I don't get it. How could you, Mr. Nice Guy himself, not have a girlfriend? I always thought you'd have chicks falling all over you."

"Believe it or not, most girls aren't into that. They'd rather have Mr. Rebel."

"Girls looking for a bad-ass are stupid. You're a great guy, Arnold and anyone that can't see that doesn't deserve to be with you anyway." I mumbled. I saw his eyes momentarily widen and the faint hint of a smile play at the corners of his mouth. I blushed hard and quickly fumbled for something else to talk about. "So…uh…two years, huh? Did a lot of dating before then?" All traces of happiness were instantly erased from his face. Another brilliant move, Helga.

"Not really. I've never been one for the whole dating game."

"So it was serious?" He simply nodded.

"What happened?" For a second, he seemed to grapple with how to answer. "Sorry. That was rude. You don't have to answer that." I quickly threw in.

He stared me down for a moment but I countered his gaze. Something clicked and he seemed to make up his mind. "I'll spare you all the details but I met Erica my freshman year in history class. We immediately hit it off. She was amazing. Smart, pretty, funny. And she got me." A dreamy look slithered onto his face as he basked in the memories. But just as quickly as it had appeared, his face clouded over again. "Things started to fall apart the summer before junior year. I don't know why but I didn't tell her I was going to San Lorenzo for the whole summer until the week before I left. Needless to say, she wasn't too happy about that. I tried to make it up to her. I wrote her almost daily when I was there. I wanted her to know how much I cared about her and how sorry I was. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. When I got back, I tried to rekindle the spark that used to be there."

I interrupted him. "Let me guess. You slept together, hoping to bring the two of you closer together. But, in the end, she smashed your heart into a million pieces. Am I right?"

He nodded his head solemnly. "I should have known it wouldn't fix things but I wanted so badly to make it work. I loved her." I flinched at that comment. The idea of Arnold falling for someone only to find out that she didn't love him back was like the whole Lila debacle all over again except 1,000 times worse. Plus, my 9 year-old self was still stinging from my own rejection long ago. I dwelled in self pity for only a moment before focusing back on Arnold's story. "I was hoping for something, anything, to make her see now much I loved her and wanted to be with her. So...uh…we…uh…"

"Had sex." He fidgeted at the words and started turning scarlet.

"Umm, yeah. That. Anyway, it only drove her away further and faster. The next day, she wouldn't answer my calls or return my texts or emails. This went on for weeks until, one day, I got an email from her. She said I had changed. That I wasn't the same person she had fallen in love with. She said she had tried but just couldn't be with me anymore. I was told not to call, text, or email her ever again. And that was it." He looked absolutely dejected as he finished. It made my heart wrench to see him so hurt. I needed to do something. I shifted from my spot at the opposite end of the couch and edged myself closer to him. I had never been one for physical expressions of compassion so I didn't blame him when he stiffened as threw my arms around his chest and gave him a gentle hug. After it registered that I wasn't trying to kill him, he gingerly placed his arms around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.

"Arnold," I said softly, "I know exactly how you feel."

"Really?"

I nodded. "I had the same thing happen to me."

"You're making that up just to make me feel better."

"I wish." I sighed and decided it was my turn to divulge. "His name was Jeremy. We met in Journalism class my senior year. I was crazy about him and vice versa. Everything was wonderful for awhile. Soon enough, though, we were having problems. I wanted more than anything to make it work and I thought sex was the answer. But after we 'did the deed', he ignored me. We broke up shortly after graduation. I was absolutely crushed and still haven't completely gotten over it." In reality, this was only the half-truth. Jeremy and I had indeed fallen for each other. How could I not have? He was 6'2" with caramel colored hair cropped close to his head, crystal blue eyes, and an incredible smile. He was incredibly thoughtful, sweet, and caring. To anyone else, he was perfect. But he wasn't perfect for me. And he never would be. Because my idea of perfect was a kindhearted little boy that had shared his umbrella with an unhappy little girl as she walked in the rain. I tried to love Jeremy. I really and truly did. But no matter how much I wanted to reciprocate his love, I just couldn't. I tried to convince myself that maybe, if I physically got closer to him, my heart would follow. We were only together for four months when we had sex. Immediately, I knew what I had done was wrong. I began to withdraw into myself. He did everything he could to reach me: calls, text, emails, love letters, flowers, candygrams, even spending all evening waiting on my front steps just hoping I'd come out and talk to him. The more he tried, the less I could face him. After a month of virtually no contact, I broke it off via a late night text. I know it was the chicken shit thing to do and it shattered him. Months later, I still felt absolutely horrible about how things played out. I made a vow that, from then on, I couldn't and wouldn't let anyone get that attached to me ever again. Hence why I was, as Sam termed, a "social pariah". And I wanted it that way. Yet, here I was, I realized, attaching myself to Arnold. I knew deep down that I could never truly be 'just friends' with him but I had agreed to anyway simply to be near him again. The boy I loved that I knew would never love me back. Karma's a bitch…

I snapped back to the present as he hugged me again. "If I've learned anything from all this, Helga, it's that there's always a reason for everything. You may not see it at first, but, believe me, it's there."

I broke our embrace and lay back on the couch. "You always have to look on the bright side of things, don't you, football head?"

He shrugged. "Somebody has to."

We focused our attention back on the TV and watched the rest of the movie in silence. Unlike the previous week, however, this silence was calm and comfortable. As if an emotional barrier between us had been broken and an unspoken understanding had finally been reached. Neither of us made any attempt to change our proximity to the other. I also noticed that his left arm had remained draped around my shoulders. I swooned. This is too good to be true. As the night wore on, I decided to test the waters. I held my breath as I re-adjusted my position and hesitantly moved closer into the crook of his shoulder. I was waiting for him to pull away but no reaction. I sighed and let myself relax. It's official. Hell has finally frozen over.

Before I knew it, the second movie was over. "Do you want me to put in the last one?" I asked.

"Actually, I hate to do this but I think we better call it a night. I've got to get up early to make the drive back to the boarding house."

"Oh. OK." I tried to hide my bitter disappointment that the evening had to come to an end.

Arnold quickly cleaned up the pizza box and plates and grabbed his car keys while I packed up my DVDs and got ready to head out. We hopped in his car and made the short drive to the dorms. The entire ride I internally debated my next move. Should I…? But what if he says no? Phoebe's words from the previous night popped into my mind. "He wouldn't have asked you if he didn't want you to come back." I was still hadn't made up my mind as we pulled up to the doors.

"I had a really great time tonight, Arnold."

"Me too, Helga." His eyes shined as they met mine.

In that moment, the answer was clear. What the hell? Might as well go for broke. "Would you…umm…maybe like to do this again next week? Maybe…uh…make this a weekly ritual or something?" My nerves were a jangled mess as the words escaped my mouth but they were instantly soothed when a gentle smile danced onto his lips.

"I'd really like that."

I instantly was overcome by a rush of relief. "OK. Cool. I was thinking, uh, since we've kind of been stealing the TV in the living room at the fraternity, maybe it's my turn to host."

He feigned a look of shock. "Why Ms. Pataki! Are you inviting me over to your place?" He winked.

I tried to scowl as I started laughing. "Don't get any ideas, bucko! It's not like it's a date or anything. Just two completely platonic friends hanging out on a Friday night. Got it?"

He chuckled. "Yes, ma'am." We smiled at each other. I grabbed his hand from where it was resting and gave it a small squeeze.

"I'll send you a Facebook message later this week. Thanks again for driving me back, Arnold."

"My pleasure, Helga." He said quietly as he squeezed my hand back. "Good night."

"Good night." I climbed out and scanned my ID to get into the building. Once I had the door opened, I turned back and gave Arnold a small wave. He returned the gesture before driving off. As I made my way to my room, I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out a tiny object. I stared at the little gold heart as I turned it in my fingers. I had managed to sneak it back out of tin in the drawer when Sam hadn't been looking. I clicked open the latch and stared lovingly at the picture inside. "Sweet dreams, my beautiful prince,' I whispered as I clasped the locket to my chest.