Hello again, everyone! I'm back! First of all, thanks for all the reviews and follows. They're greatly appreciated. I worked on this chapter throughout the holidays and had it ready to go nearly a week ago. That is, until my charger died. So my laptop with all my writing has been out of commission since then. However, I used the downtime wisely and wrote a small one-shot instead! Once I finish the edits, I should have that posted in the next few days. In the mean time, please enjoy another chapter for "Begin Again". As always, feedback and follows are greatly appreciated. Thanks and happy reading!

PS - I do not own Hey Arnold! nor any other TV show/music/movie/etc. referenced below (or anywhere else in my story, for that matter).

I ended up being a total waste of space the rest of the day. No sooner did we get back in the room than Sam and I both collapsed into our beds. I was instantly out like a light and stayed that way until nearly 2pm in the afternoon. Even after I awoke, I still laid there for another hour letting my mind wander aimlessly. It wasn't until I heard Sam fidgeting around that I finally got up. As I crawled out from underneath her bunk, I saw her leg hanging precariously over the edge. An idea popped into my head.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!" I yelled as I gave her calf a loud 'THWACK!' with my hand. She immediately shot up out of her slumber and glared at me through barely focused eyes.

"The fuck?"

"That's payback for the lovely wake-up call you gave me this morning." I jabbed a finger at the floor. "Now get down here so I can kick your ass in MarioKart."

"Oh piss off. You know you loved it," she stated smugly as she climbed down her ladder.

"You're an idiot," I said, tossing her a controller.

She stuck out her tongue as she plunked down on the couch next to me. "Takes one to know one."

"That's it. You're going down."

"Bring it."

We were on the second lap of the last race in the Mushroom Cup when my phone started buzzing. "Hey!" Sam shouted in frustration as I paused the game. "No fair! I was totally about to cream you with that shell!"

"Stop being such a whiny little bitch. You'll get your shot when I'm done." I clicked the 'Accept' button on the call.

"Helga Pataki's House of Mayhem. How may I help you?"

"Oh Helga! I'm so sorry I didn't call you back sooner!" a quiet voice exclaimed.

"Chill out, Phoebs. It's no biggie." I stood up and started heading down the hall to the exit. "Anyway, what have you been up to?"

"Not much. I'm visiting Gerald this weekend which is why I didn't respond."

"Been a little 'pre-occupied' then? If you know what I mean," I teased.

The comment completely went over her head. "Very much so. We went out to dinner last night and spent the entire afternoon today at the Maryland Science Center."

Just then, another voice echoed in the background. "Hiya Gorgeous. Who you talkin' to?"

"Helga. I'm returning her call from yesterday."

"Mind if I have the phone? I wanna have a little chat with her." I heard the phone being jostled around before a deep, gruff tone came over the line. "Pataki."

I mimicked his inflection. "Johanssen."

"Heard you've been hanging out with my best friend quite a bit lately."

"Yeah. So?" I replied hotly. "What's your point?"

His words were like ice. "I'm only going to say this once so listen closely. I don't know why he's given you a second chance. If it had been me, I would have transferred schools by now. But let's get one thing straight. Do NOT screw this up."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Geraldo."

"I'm just sayin' your reputation precedes you."

"Yeah yeah yeah. I hear ya. Yeesh. Now put your girlfriend back on the line," I demanded.

There were the random noises of the phone being handed off before I heard Phoebe again. "Helga, I'm so sorry about that. If I had known –"

I chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I said worse to him when you two first started dating. If I remember correctly, it was something along the lines of 'I will cut your balls off and feed them to the dogs if you hurt her.' So, trust me, I take no offense. I know where he's coming from."

"That's still no excuse to be RUDE," she raised her voice in irritation.

"Don't be mad at him. He's just looking out for the kid. And I don't blame him. I'm not exactly a fucking ray of sunshine."

She changed back to her spritely self. "But things have still been going well, right?"

"Yeah. Really well, actually," I begrudgingly admitted.

"Good. Just keep reminding yourself not to over-think things. Now you said in your message that there was something you wanted to discuss."

I grinned. "I think we just covered everything."

"Excellent."

"Thanks, Phoebs."

"Sure thing, Helga. Have a good weekend!"

"Likewise. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

I hung up and headed back towards the room. When I got there, Sam was nowhere to be found but I noticed her shower stuff was gone. I decided to follow suit and grabbed my flip flops, robe, and shower caddy. I walked into the bathroom and ducked into the last stall, turning on the faucet. I shed my clothing and climbed in. The initial blast of hot water against my bare flesh made me flinch but, soon after, the rhythmic pounding of it against my body quickly took me away, leading my mind to drift off into fantasyland. Rough hands sliding effortlessly across my skin. A flash of a steady green gaze. A lop-sided smile before the brush of soft sweet lips came in contact with my mouth. "I love you, Helga." I shivered with pleasure and proceeded to turn the temperature up as high as it could go. I stayed that way, letting the beads of scalding water entrance me until my body was as red as the flush that had crept onto my face. I shut off the tap and stepped out, wrapping myself in the nearby robe. I made my way around to the other side of the bathroom and, wiping the steam from the fogged over vanity mirror, took a hard look at the reflection staring back at me. You can't keep doing this to yourself, Pataki. You need to tell him the truth. "Can't," I mumbled to myself. I grabbed my things and set off for the dorm. As soon as I set foot in the room, I was greeted to an eyeful of boob. "Jesus Christ, Reynolds. Think you can show anymore skin?"

"WHAT?" Sam shouted over the sound of her hair dryer. I waited for her to finish before repeating my question.

"What the hell kind of outfit is that?'"

"Oh. You like?" She struck a modeling pose. I stared at her sky high stilettos, skintight black jeans, and the blood red corset top her cleavage was pouring out of.

"Yeah. If looking like a prostitute was your intention."

She smirked. "Glad you approve because you'll be wearing something similar."

"Like hell I will!"

"Come on, Pataki. Have little fun and dress up." She teetered over to her makeup kit on the dresser.

"Why? It's not like I'm trying to impress anyone." Liar.

"Uh huh. Right." She paused in the middle of applying her blush to roll her eyes.

I sighed and pushed past her to get into the drawers. I grabbed a nude strapless bra, pink thong, and the darkest pair of jeans I owned. I then dug through my closet for one of the few pieces of clothing I considered nice enough to actually be worth hanging. I pulled out a long pale pink one-shoulder t-shirt. I threw everything on to the bed. "Sam, you mind?"

"No problem." Sam grabbed her flat iron and shut the door to allow me the opportunity to change. I swiftly threw on the outfit I had laid out and re-propped the door open before snatching up the still plugged-in dryer. After several minutes of blowing my hair dry, I finally took a glance at myself in the closet mirror.

Of course. The one time I actually want it to look nice. I sneered disgustedly at the rat's nest on the top of my head. I walked back over to the dresser and picked up my makeup bag before settling down in front of the mirror. I pulled out a hairbrush and slicked it through my yellow locks a few times. I undid a hair tie from around the brush handle and threw my strands into a messy ponytail. I cringed at my reflection. I pulled the band free and tried a bun. Better but not quite... I decided to try something that I hadn't done in years. I pulled another ponytail holder from the brush and tied two loose pigtails at the base of my neck. Not half bad. As I started on my makeup, Sam walked back in. "Does this suffice for your definition of 'dress up'?" I said, motioning to her from my seat.

She looked down at me. "Considering the fact that it's you, I suppose."

I finished up my normal routine of foundation, touch-up, and black eyeliner in mere seconds. Looking in the mirror, I realized there was still something off. "Sam, can I look through your cosmetics?"

"Knock yourself out."

I glanced through the many bottles and palettes and managed to find what I was looking for. I grabbed a Q-Tip, swiped it through a tube of bright pink lip gloss, and applied it to my lips. I picked up my belongings and placed them back in their original position. I then rooted through the bottom of the dresser for my jewelry tin. I had replaced both the ribbon and the locket after that night, too afraid of losing either. On this occasion, however, I found it appropriate to pull out at least one of the pieces. I grabbed the thin pink ribbon and tied it tightly around my neck into a choker. I flopped onto the couch and looked at the DVD player clock. "We've got 15 minutes before we supposed to be over there."

"Almost done." Sam quickly finished lacquering on a coat of red lipstain. "And there. Perfect." I got up and slipped on my black flats before grabbing the black zip-up hoodie sitting next to my bed. I stuffed my keys, cell phone, school ID, and credit card into its pockets as Sam slid into her coat and shoes and picked up her purse.

The night was a pleasant one as a warm front had brought the temperature to a comfortable 60 degrees. As we trotted along, Sam rambled on about the prior evening's gossip. Normally, such trivial discussions would have made my ears bleed but, tonight, I let it go. Sam was in a good mood and her excitement was contagious. When we reached the house, we didn't hesitate to walk right in. Seated in the living room were several of our dining companions. "Hey guys. Ready to go?" Sam grinned enthusiastically.

"We are. But Rod and Shortman are still dicking around upstairs," a brother by the name of Marco mentioned. Sam checked her phone and frowned.

"Shit. It's five 'til. We're gonna be late."

"Why don't you guys go on ahead? We'll meet you there," I offered as I mounted the stairs. "Sam, you go grab Tweedledee. I'll get Tweedledum."

I had made it to the top of the staircase and was just about to head towards Arnold's bedroom when the sound of two familiar voices coming down the hall stopped me in my tracks. As they approached, I made the split second decision to hide and dived into the nearby bathroom.

"Ooooo, Arnold! Tonight's gonna be so much fun! I can't wait!" a high pitched voice rang out.

"Yeah. It should be a good time. Are you sure you don't want to go to dinner with us, Col?"

"Nah. I still have to go make myself beautiful. Although that shouldn't be that hard since I already am." I held back the urge to vomit as she giggled. "You sure you don't need me to help you finish getting ready?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

A short squeal and the sound of footsteps thumping down the stairs soon followed. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and continued on my mission. 'Although that shouldn't be that hard since I already am.' Stupid egotistical… I was about to angrily slam my fist into the partially ajar door when I happened to catch a glimpse inside. My hand immediately stopped midair. Oh sweet Jesus. Arnold was standing in the middle of the room, back to the door, completely shirtless. I ogled every inch of exposed flesh. Although not heavily built, he was lean and definitely muscular. Broad shoulders gave way to a thin waist line. His jeans rode just low enough on his hips to uncover a mere half inch of his blue striped boxers. I watched as he ambled across the room, threw open his closet, and began skimming the rack. He pulled out a dark green t-shirt and red plaid flannel before turning around. I stood there transfixed for what felt like hours. The pectorals of his chest flexed and rippled with his every movement. The slightest hint of definition in his abdomen led to the deep 'V' of his pelvis down to his…I shuddered as my loins started to throb and ache. Settle down before you have to go home and change your pants! I took a deep breath to calm myself and waited until he was fully dressed before knocking.

"Come in!"

I opened the door and leaned in against the doorframe as casually as possible. "Hey, Football Head." I gave him a once over. "Nice getup. The '90s called. It wants its outfit back."

"Funny. It told me to tell you the same thing."

"Blow me."

He smirked. "I think that's my line."

I cracked a smile in amusement. "Feisty tonight, are we?"

"Sorry. After being cooped up here for a week straight, my mental filter has gone out the window."

"No apology necessary. It's about time you started throwing some barbs back my way. Anyway, you about ready?"

"About." He grabbed his keys and wallet from his desk. "OK. Let's get out of here."

I took the lead as we headed towards the living room. When I hit the bottom step, I nearly puked for the second time that night. Sam was straddling Rodney in the middle of the couch. He had one hand on her hips and the other was toying with her breast. At least one of hers was shoved down his pants. Each had the other's tongue halfway down their throat. "For fuck's sake, you two! Nobody wants to see that shit!" I shouted in revulsion.

Sam turned and climbed off Rodney's lap. "If it bothers you that much, Pataki, we'll make sure to do it in front of you more often."

Arnold, rather unfazed by the horror we had just witnessed, looked around the empty room. "Where is everybody?"

"Meeting us there since you took forever," I said.

Arnold looked down at his wristwatch, "Shoot. I didn't realize it was this late. We need to get out of here."

We hightailed it out the door. Fortunately, we didn't have far to go. The steakhouse that Sam had chosen was in the center of town along the main street. When we arrived, the others had already been seated. We grabbed the last four spots at the very furthest end of the table and quickly settled in.

Dinner went off without a hitch. The dozen of us spent the entire time enjoying recapped stories from the events of the past week. As the meal began to wind down, the server started calling out checks.

"Medium sirloin with a baked potato?"

"Down here." Arnold's hand shot up into the air. "I'll also take the one with the New York Strip and House Salad," he said as the waiter handed him the small slips of paper.

"What do you think you're doing, Football Head?" I hissed at him across the table. "That's my bill."

He slipped a few $20s into the check holder. "Consider it my treat."

"Forget it." I tried to seize the little black folder but he snatched it up and gave it back to the server before I could get my hands on it.

A tiny self-satisfied grin spread across his face. "Too late."

I crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned back in my chair. "Fine," I huffed. "But I'm buying the pizza for the next two weeks then."

"Deal."

Once everyone had paid, the group of us made our way further down the main street until we were at the edge of the town. We walked another three blocks down a side street to reach the party. A substantial crowd had already gathered by the time we got inside.

"Let's ditch our gear and get us a few drinks," Sam stated as she grasped my hand and dragged me through the kitchen. We wandered into the laundry room where we shed our hoodies before making our way back out to the main section of the house. We were passing by the fridge when my shoulder accidentally slammed into someone trying to squeeze by.

"Sorry! Oh, it's you. Nevermind then." I smirked as Arnold turned to face me.

He rolled his eyes but smiled as he handed me a red Solo cup filled to the brim with beer. "I'll let that one slide. This time." He took a sip of his own drink. "So where'd your partner in crime disappear to?"

"What do you mean? She's right -" I looked around and realized Sam was indeed gone. "Dammit."

"She probably went to go continue her game of tonsil hockey with Rodney."

"Thank you for that visual image. As if it wasn't disturbing enough the first time."

He laughed. "Come on. Let's see what the others are up to." We maneuvered our way through the throngs to what would be a dining room any other day of the year. Tonight, however, the table and chairs had been replaced by an elaborately decorated beer pong table. We found Brian and Dan talking to a few new brothers in the corner.

"Hey guys. Either of you interested in playing?" Brian asked as we sauntered towards the group.

"Hell yeah!" I piped up.

"Yo! Hamilton! We got winner!" he shouted over the noise to a tall raven-haired kid at the other end. The boy acknowledged this with a quick nod of the head before he sent a ping pong ball sailing across the room into the last remaining cup.

"Shit!" A voice screeched from behind us as one of the upperclassman girls watched the ball bob in her beer.

"Drink up, ladies!" Hamilton said as he and his partner shoved the 2 remaining cups on their side at their two female competitors.

"You ready for this?" Brian looked at me questioningly.

"Let's do this." I shoved him out of the way and took my place as the end of the table.

We ended up doing rather well. After winning the first game by a single shot, Arnold and Dan decided to take a turn. Brian and I managed to defeat them with ease, leaving them to chug the 4 beers left behind. On the third round, however, both Brian and I were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol and we lost hopelessly with 6 cups remaining on the table. After downing my portion, I decided to meander around a bit. I managed to find Arnold sitting in a La-Z-Boy in the living room having an animated discussion with a tall skinny guy and his equally wispy girlfriend.

"Pataki! Question for you!" the boy yelled as he gestured for me to come join them.

I popped a squat on the arm of the recliner and faced the couple on the couch. "OK, Joe. Shoot."

"Who has the better film franchise: Marvel or DC Comics?"

"Easy. Marvel."

"That's what I said," Arnold chimed in.

Joe furrowed his eyebrows, obviously miffed. "Are you two crazy? How could you consider Marvel better than DC?"

"Ummm…Hello? Have you seen the X-Men trilogy?" I retorted.

"And have you seen The Dark Knight?"

"You can't base a FRANCHISE on ONE movie! What about Blade, Spiderman, and the Fantastic Four? DC's only been able to stay afloat because they keep remaking Batman and Superman movies over and over," I argued.

My final comment hit a nerve. He flung up his arms in distaste as he stood up. "Fuck this! I need another drink. You want one too, baby?"

The slender girl also got to her feet. "Yeah but I'm coming with you. The last one you got me tasted like crap."

As the two of them took off in search of more booze, Arnold turned to face me. "I didn't know you were into comics."

I snickered. "I'm not. I overheard him ask Dan the same question earlier. It's just funny to see Joe so pissed off. Besides, that's what he gets for calling WrestleMania a bunch of guys dressed in ladies' lingerie playing grab ass."

"You're evil."

"And you're just now figuring this out?"

He smirked before making a motion to get up. "You want a real seat? I'll move."

I waved him off. "Don't worry about it, Football Head. If I need more room, I'll just take the futon."

"How about a compromise? You could sit with me," he said coyly.

"And risk the chance of catching whatever diseases you may have? No thanks." I tried to stand up but found myself being dragged back down by a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I fell back into Arnold's lap.

"Whoops. Looks like you're doomed now," he chuckled with a dopey grin on his face.

A rare girlish giggle escaped me as I shrugged. "Could be worse."

He cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "Is that so?"

I felt my cheeks go pink. OK. You're cut off for the rest of the night. I cleared my throat and attempted to change the subject."Ummm…By the way, I forgot to say it earlier but thanks for dinner. You really didn't have to do that."

He pulled me into him tighter. "I know. But I wanted to. Someone as amazing as you deserves it." Amazing? I turned to avoid his gaze.

"Don't say shit like that," I whispered.

"Why not? It's the truth." He placed a hand under my chin and gently tilted it until my eyes met his gaze. His face read of complete sincerity. "You're an incredible person, Helga," he murmured. I stared at him. Our lips were mere inches apart. It would be so easy to kiss him right now...

"Arnold?" I said breathily.

"Yeah, Helga?"

"You wanna get out of here?"

That beautiful lop-sided grin split his face. "I thought you'd never ask."

I gently got to my feet. "Let me go flag down Sam and make sure she's OK first."

"Last I saw her, she was playing poker in the basement."

"Got it. Meet you on the back patio in five."

I took off for the cellar stairs. As I descended, one thought kept pounding into my brain. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. I reached the bottom and peered around the room. "Hey, have any of you guys seen Sam?"

A random voice floated through the air. "She went for refills."

I climbed the steps and made my way back towards the living room to let Arnold know it'd take a few minutes longer to find her. As I turned the corner, I caught a glimpse of spiked blonde hair in the far recesses of the room. As I got closer, I realized Arnold wasn't alone. There, dressed in a bright green tube top, a black miniskirt the size of a napkin, and thigh high vinyl boots, was Colleen. I watched as she beckoned him closer with one curl of her finger. He leaned down towards her. As he did so, she got on her tiptoes to reach him. Their mouths collided in a passionate kiss. I looked away as I felt my heart shatter and go cold. Instantly, I spun on my heels and tried to slink my way into the kitchen as quickly as possible, making a beeline straight for where I thought Sam would be. I found her as she was pulling another wine cooler from the fridge. When I caught hold of her elbow, she jumped.

"Oh heeeeeyyyyyy, Hellllllllggggaaaaa," she slurred when it finally clicked who I was.

"Sam, how wasted are you?" I said, closely eyeing her up and down to determine her true lack of sobriety.

"I'm feelin' pret-tay good. You?"

I frowned. "I've been better."

"Uh oh. What happened now?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it. I just came by to let you know I'm going back to the dorms."

"Is Shortman going with you?"

"No," I growled.

Her mouth contorted in concern. "But he always walks you back."

I felt another piece of my heart tear apart. "Yeah well, not tonight. He seems to be a little 'pre-occupied'. Look, are you gonna be OK without me?"

"Don't worry about me. Rodney's around here somewhere. He'll find me eventually. Especially since he'll need this." She plunged her hand inside her cleavage and produced a key.

I shook my head. "You're so classy, Sam."

"And you're sexy." She rearranged the object back into her bosom and then embraced me. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm here if you need me."

Even though I hated being hugged, I allowed myself to drop my guard and accept this brief instance of emotional contact. I squeezed her back. "Thanks, Sam."

"No problemo. Now be careful."

"OK OK. Sheesh."

I booked it for the patio doors, trying to avoid being noticed. I nearly made it. But as I reached the edge of the lawn, I heard someone calling my name behind me. I sped up but it wasn't enough to outpace Arnold.

"Hey! Where are you running off to in such a hurry?" he asked playfully.

"Home." My tone was like steel, thoroughly throwing him for a loop.

The smile vanished from his face. "Helga, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Arnold. Just go back and enjoy the party. I'm fully capable of walking back by myself." I kept going but so did he. When I reached the main drag of town, Arnold was still at my side. "You're not going to leave, are you?"

"Nope."

I sighed in defeat. "Whatever."

We were silent as we walked. I was too wrapped up in my own fury for conversation. I couldn't tell who to be more pissed at: him for lying or myself for trusting him. What the hell is wrong with you? You should have known better than this! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stupid for getting carried away. Stupid for thinking he'd maybe ever actually like you. Stupid for believing him. Humph. Never in a million years', my ass! What other BS has he been feeding you? Ugh. Douche bag. Wait until Phoebe gets a load of this shit. It shouldn't be too late to give her a buzz. Tall Hair Boy will just have to suck it up and - A sudden realization hit me. I slammed my palm into my forehead. "Fuck."

The abruptness of my exclamation startled him. "What?"

"I forgot to grab my hoodie."

He shrugged. "So? Just pick it up tomorrow."

I rolled my eyes. "My keys and ID were in there, genius. I can't get into the building."

"Couldn't you borrow Sam's?"

"Yeah. But she left all her stuff at the house."

"Then let's go. It's shorter than heading all the way back to the party."

We turned and started heading East. Unfortunately, this was also in the same direction that the night wind was blowing. At one point, a particularly sharp gust rushed past us, causing me to shiver violently. Arnold had obviously seen this as he immediately took off his flannel. "Here," he said as he handed it to me.

I shook my head while gripping my arms tightly to my frame. "I'm fine."

"Take it." He gingerly wrapped the shirt around my shoulders.

My anger softened at the gesture. At least he does seem to genuinely care. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Before long, we were again making small talk as we climbed the porch steps. Arnold dug into his jeans pocket, extracting his keys. He unlocked the door and held it open. "After you," he said with a small encouraging smile. I walked inside. We wound our way through the empty house and up the stairs. At the top, we split off down opposite hallways. When I approached Rodney's bedroom, I cringed. The door had been left was wide open and I could see the pile of dirty clothes (including underwear) stacked waist high in the corner. I stepped inside and painstakingly picked my way through, cautious to avoid the debris littering the floor. I found Sam's purse lying on the bed and quickly rummaged through it. After finding what I needed, I grabbed a random scrap of paper from a table laden with Mountain Dew and Red Bull cans and scribbled a note. Reynolds - Left keys and ID at party. Borrowed yours. Helga. As I made my way back across the minefield, Arnold was waiting for me outside the door. "Find what you needed?"

"Barely." I started to head back downstairs.

"Helga?"

Against my better judgment, I stopped. "What, Football Head?"

He absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. "It's still early. I was kinda hoping you'd wanna stick around and do our normal thing."

I shook my head. "I'm not really in the mood."

"Come on, Helga. Please?" he pleaded. Even though I was still upset, I wavered at the look on his face. God dammit. Every fucking time. I weakly nodded. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall and into his room. As always, his small abode was meticulously clean. Next to the door, his notebooks and textbooks were neatly stacked on the desk beside his laptop. The bookcase on the opposite wall was filled with carefully arranged CDs, DVDs, pictures, and other trinkets. A freshly made bed sat along the back and across from it, on top of a dust-free dresser, was a 27" flat screen TV and DVD player. I spun his desk chair around and plopped into it, kicking my feet up on the corner of the desk as he started perusing his bookshelves. "I hope you don't mind but I already had something to watch in mind." He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. "Hmm...I must have left it in the living room. I'll be right back." He slipped out the door.

I sat there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Sure, I'd been in his bedroom plenty of times before but never alone. To distract myself, I turned my attention to the bookcase. I started glancing through the pictures. There were a few people I vaguely recognized. One showed Arnold standing next to a tall African American boy, both dressed in cap and gown. I knew in an instant that it had to be Gerald. Another was a prom photo. Arnold looked quite dapper in his tuxedo and slicked-back hair and he had his arms wrapped around Lila's curvy waist. The last two sat on the shelf at eye level. One was of Phil and Gertie. It had also been taken on graduation day, as Arnold stood between them in shirt and tie with a diploma in his hand. The final photo was old and faded. I pulled the picture off the shelf to get a closer look. It showed a tall, shaggy haired blonde man with a cleft chin. He was smiling and had his right arm in a sling. His left arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a laughing brunette woman with a football shaped head. They appeared to be in a remote tropic location and looked incredible happy.

"Please be careful with that. It's one of the few pictures I have of them." I whirled around to be met with brooding green eyes. My breath caught in my throat.

"Arnold! I-I'm sorry!"

"For what?"

"For snooping through your things."

"It's hardly snooping if it's out in the open," he said, gently taking the photo from my hands. Stillness filled the air as we both looked at the picture. His face tensed the longer he stared at it. We continued to gaze silently at the photo for several seconds longer before he quietly whispered, "Helga, do you know why I went to San Lorenzo that summer?"

"Phoebe said something about you visiting the university to see if you wanted to go there for school."

"Not quite." He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the picture frame still in his hands. I watched him closely. He seemed tired and lost in thought, as if the weight of the world currently rested on his shoulders. I sat down as delicately as possible next to him, trying not to break his concentration. He tore his gaze away long enough to thoroughly study my face before focusing again on the photo. When he spoke, his voice was slightly shaking. "I went to go find them." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I found my dad's journal in the fourth grade. It detailed everything. The first time he saw my mother. The day they were married. The day I was born. All the way up through the night they left for the final time. It also contained a map with all the locations my parents had traveled during their time in San Lorenzo. Ever since then, I wanted nothing more than to follow it and finally find out what happened to them. For years, I tried to get in contact with anyone that knew anything about their last trip. I finally managed to reach out to my dad's college buddy Eduardo during junior year. He was still in San Lorenzo, studying a tribe called the Green-Eyed People. As soon as he told me he was still there and still doing the research my parents had been involved in, I knew I had to go. I made plans that summer. When I got there, I met up with Eduardo and we followed the same trails they had. We spent months desperately searching for any clues as to their whereabouts. The last week I was there, we finally found something."

He suddenly stopped. I placed my hand on his knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Take your time."

"We had stumbled upon the Green-Eyed People themselves. Initially, they were extremely cautious. But when I started showing them the picture and trying to explain who I was, they welcomed us with open arms. I started to question them as best I could for any information they had. For the first few days, they refused to tell me anything. The fifth day, I was taken to the chief who, I learned, spoke some English. I told him I wanted to know what happened to my parents. He explained that they had gone out into the jungle to gather ingredients for a serum to cure a disease which was slowly killing off the tribe. After several days, when they hadn't come back, several tribesmen went out to look for them. They followed a path all the way to a river. The Green-Eyes found their backpacks and tent, completely slashed and torn. There were footprints that led into the heart of the jungle but, after a few feet, the trail went cold. The Green-Eyes left things as they were in the hopes that my parents would come back but they never did. The tribe took me to the spot where everything had once been. It had been so long that the only things left were the metal tent poles and the frames of their rucksacks. The next day, I was on my way back to Hillwood."

My heart ached for him. "So you still don't know what happened to them?"

"No," he said glumly.

"Then maybe they're still out there."

He sighed. "Helga, I've already accepted the fact that they're gone. It took me a while but I've come to terms with it."

"Is that why you don't wear your hat anymore?"

He stared at me. "How did you -"

"Didn't think I'd notice? Come on. You hardly ever took it off. And when you did, you always carried it with you. I figured there had to have been some sort of sentimental value to it. I just didn't know how sentimental." We both reflected on this thought for a moment longer before I asked the obvious question. "You still have it?"

"Of course."

He got up and headed back towards the bookshelf. After cautiously replacing the frame back on the shelf, he pulled a small object from the same vicinity. He walked back over to the bed and handed it to me. It had definitely seen better days. The brim was beginning to fray and it was sun-bleached from years of wear but I knew that little blue hat from anywhere. I turned the tiny cap over a few times in my hands before placing it on top of his head. "You should start wearing it again."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. It's kind of like a nice little reminder of how proud they'd be of you and the extraordinary person you've become." His eyes met mine, green orbs studying me, piercing straight into my soul. He smiled. I blushed profusely. I felt him take my hand in his. We continued to gaze into each other's eyes until I started to become flustered. "OK. Enough with the mushy stuff already. What're we watching?"

"Oh. Right!" he said, snapping back to reality. He stood back up and retrieved the DVD case he had dropped on his desk. He popped the movie into the player and clicked on the TV. "I figured you might enjoy this."

I scooted over towards the wall to make room for him again as he sat back down and stretched out on the bed. Within seconds of it starting, I knew what was playing. "Well well well. The Princess Bride. Looks like you figured it out."

"The Internet's a wonderful thing." We laid there contentedly, side by side for another moment before Arnold spoke again. "Helga?"

"Yes, Football Head?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

By the time the ending credits began to roll, we were completely entwined with one another. Arnold was stretched out on his back, one arm behind his head to prop himself up enough to see the screen. The other was wrapped around my back, his hand resting gently on my hip. I was turned into his side, one leg draped over his. My arms were still wrapped around his waist and my head rested on his chest. "So what'd you think?" I asked lazily.

"You want my honest opinion?"

"Duh."

"It was kind of corny…But I liked it."

I removed an arm and propped myself up on an elbow to look at him. "See? My tastes aren't that bad."

He chuckled. "I never said they were. They're just different."

"The same could be said for you. I mean, you're one of the few people on Earth that actually enjoyed Star Wars Episode 1."

"I resent that." He poked me in the side.

I jerked. "Don't do that!"

"Why not?" He poked and I twitched again. "You're not ticklish, are you?"

"No! Of course not! Hey!" He began to tickle my ribs. I squirmed, shrieking with laughter. "Cut it out, Football Head!" I tried to get up but he managed to pull me back down. "I swear, Arnold, if you don't stop, I'm going to make you pay." I gasped between laughing fits.

"Oh really? I'd like to see you try." It was only then that I realized how precariously close we were. He was kneeling between my legs and resting his broad frame over me on one of his sinewy arms. His other hand was lightly clasped around the curve of my waist. A few strands of his golden locks hung in his face. I flushed, the wet hot heat beginning to pool in between my thighs. Oh God. We stayed that way for a moment before he started to move again. Slowly, he began to lean down. Closer...and closer…His lips hovered just above mine. The thought of those lips pressed against those of a bleach-bottle blonde tramp flashed through my head. Wake the fuck up, you idiot!

"Get off me!" I screamed in his face. He froze, momentarily stunned. I managed to wrestle myself free and shoved him back.

"Helga, I –"

"Leave me alone!" I flew off the bed and quickly slid into my shoes before I started running for the door. I could hear his footsteps chasing behind me as I took off down the stairs. He caught up with me just as we reached the bottom, grabbing my hand and turning me around.

"Helga, please –"

"Look, bucko. I don't know what the fuck kind of game you're playing but I will NOT be a part of it!" I hissed.

"Ahem…"

We both froze as we realized as over a dozen pairs of eyes were on us. I wrenched my hand free of his grip and silently tore out of the house. I booked it back to the dorm as fast as I could, tears streaming down my face. I really am a moron. I managed to get my dorm room door open and fling myself on my bed before I started to bawl.