A/N:

The last chapter was indeed pretty rough on Helga. But things get better, I promise! Also, I believe someone asked if Arnold knew if this is really Helga. I like to leave a fair bit open to interpretation, but I'm pretty sure I can answer this one: No, Arnold does not know that it is Helga at this point, at least not consciously... ;-)

Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Nickelodeon, Craig Bartlett and company, not me.

Chapter 7:

Midnight Confessions

Helga woke the next morning feeling miserable. Since her abuse of it the first day, her alarm had been sounding more like a dying cow than an electronic beeping. It really didn't help her mood.

Arnold didn't speak to her beyond a mumbled "Good morning" before he left for breakfast. She understood why he would want to leave quickly; tension from the night's argument still hung in the air. It still didn't feel good to be avoided by him, though.

Her breakfast was eaten with disinterest, alone, as was becoming usual. Dimly, she noted that she still appeared to be the main topic of conversation between Arnold and Gerald. As she made her way to Performance Poetry, her peers appeared to have traded the curious glances for avoiding her altogether. Having not established herself in a clique by this point, she was now deemed a social leper. Or maybe they were just avoiding her because of the terrible mood she was in.

Her professors seemed to get the hint, and didn't bother her. Even Volker gave her a break when he didn't force her to read her poem aloud. This was probably a very good thing, though, as her poem had a lot in it about "divine beauty being shaped into mortal flesh".

Her feet were dragging by the time she'd drifted through her classes and into lunch. She picked at her food, but she just didn't feel hungry. Eventually she gave up and put her head between her arms.

Three days. It'd been three days, and she already felt like giving up. She'd had virtually no social contact with anyone, and Arnold was so emotionally distant he might've been on the other side of the planet. Her classes weren't interesting or intellectually stimulating, and between them and homework you pretty much summed up her life right now. No one at this school wanted her there (including herself), but she had to stay for her own wellbeing. The past three days had been some of the most stressful she'd ever experienced, and she had no one to talk to about it. She was completely alone. How was she supposed to endure a whole summer of this?

"He's sitting by himself again, Gerald."

Gerald rolled his eyes, not bothering to look up from his food. "Are we going to talk about this every time we eat?" he complained.

Arnold ignored him. Gerald could feel a speech coming on… "It's been three days now and he's still eating by himself. I think he hasn't made any friends."

Gerald snorted. "Like that's surprising."

Arnold sent him a quick glare but turned back to Henrik. He'd noticed how depressed Henrik had looked this morning, and had spent the last three hours feeding a sizable amount of guilt. He'd snapped last night and yelled, but Henrik hadn't really deserved it. Sure, in the short time he'd known him Henrik had proven to be mean and rude at times, but it didn't give Arnold an excuse to act the same way. Henrik must have had feelings of his own, and he was pretty sure that he'd hurt them last night. "It must be really lonely…" he muttered after a while.

Gerald looked up from his food, a small trace of fear showing in his eyes. "Oh no," he groaned, "I think I know where this is going…"

Arnold ignored him and dove into his speech. "Ok, yeah, he's a little weird and can be really mean and looks just like Helga… but when you get down to it, he's still a person with feelings, just like the rest of us. And… He shouldn't have to sit all alone over there when we can do something about it. Maybe he just needs a friend."

"Arnold," Gerald said sternly, "I am NOT going to go sit with that guy. I know you like to think that every cloud has a silver lining, but face it, some just don't. Maybe that guy likes being alone."

"You don't have to come," Arnold said as he grabbed his trey and began to stand, "but I'm going to go talk to him." He departed from his own table, leaving Gerald alone to shake his head at him as he walked away. Slowly, he crossed the expanse between the tables, each step bringing him closer to the lone figure. Finally, Arnold stood in front of the table where Henrik was slumped over with his head down. Arnold cleared his throat.

When Henrik still didn't look up, he spoke. "Uh, Hi Henrik," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He felt awkward coming up to him like this out of the blue, but his resolve did not weaken.

Henrik's head slowly lifted up to look at Arnold through narrowed eyes. "What do you want?" he said, as if repulsed by the very sight of him.

"Well," Arnold began, "I noticed that you were sitting alone and I thought that you might like some company."

Henrik crossed his arms and glared. "Did it ever occur to you that I might like sitting alone?"

Never heard that before, Arnold thought sarcastically. Carefully stilling his annoyance, Arnold pressed on. "Just in case you don't like sitting alone," he said as he placed his trey and began to sit down, "If you don't mind, I'd like to join you today." Henrik looked about to protest, but then a weary look crossed his face and (to Arnold's surprise) he turned his face away and grumbled, "If you insist."

They sat in silence for several minutes; Henrik sent death glares to the corner and Arnold fidgeted nervously. He had wanted to help Henrik, but now that he was here he didn't know what to do. What was he supposed to say? 'I feel bad about snapping at you last night'? 'I'd like to be your friend so you'll stop acting like a jerk'? After another minute of awkward quiet, Arnold finally spoke up. "So, I don't think you've met my friend Gerald. He's sitting over there." Arnold gestured over his shoulder. "He might take a little while to come around, but I bet he'd be alright with sitting with you too."

Henrik stopped glaring at the corner to look at Arnold incredulously. "That womanizer?"

Arnold's eyebrows shot up. It wasn't exactly false; Gerald did have somewhat of a reputation with the ladies. Ever since he was voted "class hunk" by Rhonda in the eighth grade, he'd gotten it into his head that he was a gift to all womankind. Then he'd proceeded to spend the next couple years dating half of the school, some of them at the same time. He always liked to brag to Arnold about his exploits, most of which were far more detailed than he wanted to know. He suspected that Gerald exaggerated a lot, though. But how did Henrik know about any of that? "D-Do you know him?" Arnold stuttered out.

"Uh.." Henrik looked away for a second before continuing. "I… can just see it on him, you know? It's in the way he walks." Well, that's true, Arnold thought. Gerald did have a bit of a strut. And he was somewhat of a womanizer. But he wasn't a bad guy! If he could just explain it to Henrik…

"Everyone has their faults, but Gerald really is—"

"Gerald really is what?" The voice of the man himself came from behind him. He turned to find his friend standing next to his shoulder. Apparently he had decided to join them. "You guys talking about me?" He said as he sat down next to Arnold.

In front of them Henrik leaned his head on his hand. "Great, everyone's here. Isn't this just a party…" he muttered.

Arnold ignored him. "I was going to say that Gerald's a really great guy."

Gerald looked suspiciously at his friend. "And why would there be any reason to dispute that fact?" he questioned, a slight cocky air to his voice.

Arnold glanced at Henrik and back to Gerald. He'd just managed to sit next to Henrik without being chewed out (mostly). Would Henrik hold it against him if he was honest? "Well…" Arnold began hesitantly, "Henrik might have said you look like you're… good with the ladies."

"A womanizer is what I said," Henrik added flatly, "I can tell just by looking at you."

"I may have been known to show the ladies a good time…" Gerald seemed to take Henrik's accusation as a compliment. Arnold didn't think it was something he should be proud of, but he stayed silent. "But it takes one to know one, Henrik." Gerald supplied, cocking an eyebrow at him in question. Henrik didn't respond and seemed to freeze, until Gerald continued. "So how 'bout it Henrik? You have any fine ladies back home?"

Henrik let out a breath before answering. "I think dating is kind of pointless. It's all just an excuse to have casual sex." He seemed much calmer now, Arnold noted. What had scared him so much earlier?

"At least you've got an excuse," Gerald replied. Arnold continued to scrutinize Henrik as he talked. Something was definitely up with this guy… "My man Arnold over here has none. I've seen tons of girls check him out and he never goes for it." Arnold watched as Henrik froze up again, caught in the middle of shoving a french fry into his mouth. Something must be—wait, what was that Gerald just said? "I don't think the guy's even kissed a girl before!" Gerald finished. Arnold lost all interest in figuring out what was up with Henrik.

"Hey! I've kissed a girl before!" Arnold piped in, offended. If he had been paying attention to Henrik, he might've noticed that he was hanging on Arnold's every word.

"Oh yeah?" Gerald challenged. "When? I've never even seen you ask a girl out, and I've known you a long time. So when did you sneak this kiss in?"

Arnold blushed and looked down. He should've kept his mouth shut. "It… was a long time ago," he mumbled out. Gerald cocked an eyebrow, before an amused look crossed his face.

"You're not actually talking about that school play back in elementary school, are you?" Gerald said, beginning to chuckle a little. Arnold groaned internally. Why was Gerald pressing the issue? He really didn't want to talk about this in front of Henrik. Glancing up at the person in question, Arnold noticed that he was blushing too. The subject didn't even have to do with him and it was making him feel uncomfortable. Poor guy. Why couldn't Gerald take a hint? "Are you?" Gerald inquired.

Arnold shifted uncomfortably and refused to look at either of them. "No, I'm not," he mumbled.

Gerald actually looked curious now. This wasn't good. "So?" Gerald pressed on, "When was it?"

In truth, he'd been kissed several times, all by the same girl. Only once had happened when they weren't acting, though, and it had happened on a rooftop. With Helga Pataki, of all people.

Arnold really didn't want to tell him about Helga kissing him on top of the FTi building. Especially not in front of Henrik. It would just bring on too many questions he couldn't answer. The whole "Helga confessing that she loved him only to deny it right after" thing sort of complicated the issue. Actually, he'd always felt a bit confused about it himself… But he had to say something. "Back when we saved the—"

"I think I'll be going now," Henrik interrupted and stood, "if you two are done boring me with your love lives." Arnold watched as he grabbed his trey and walked away, grateful for the interruption. Maybe Henrik hadn't intended it, but he'd just saved him from a lot of embarrassment.

Once Henrik was out of sight, Gerald spoke up. "That," he said, stressing the word, "was for leaving me alone back there and forcing me to eat with this guy." He sent Arnold an accusatory look. "But seriously now, why hadn't I heard about this kissing thing before now?"

"I think we should head to class before we're late." Arnold said quickly as he stood up and headed for the doors.

"Hey!" Gerald shouted after him, almost tripping as he hurried out of his seat. "Don't think you're off the hook! I'll just ask you about it later!"

Arnold didn't pause when he reached the doors. "Sure, Gerald, whatever you say!" He shouted back to his friend. "I'll see you later!"

Gerald shook his head and headed toward his next class.

Helga sat in the back of the Biology classroom watching the students filter in. Her palms felt sweaty as she rolled her pencil between her fingers. That had been close. Too close. And not just once.

When Gerald had said 'It takes one to know one', she had been sure that he was talking about knowing who she was. She was lucky that they didn't seem to notice her freezing up. That was too obvious. She needed to get a better poker face, and quickly. And she'd done it again, when Gerald had started talking about Arnold's kissing experiences. Of course she had to listen when he'd mentioned something like that. But why had Gerald even brought it up, anyway? Did he normally go around talking about kissing with people he just met? Actually, she chuckled darkly to herself, thinking of his reputation as a womanizer, he sort of does.

Helga had lost a lot of respect for Gerald when he'd started going out with anything that had a pair of breasts. That had been bad in itself, but her real problem had been what he'd done to Phoebe. She and Gerald had flirted around dating all through later elementary school and early middle school. Phoebe didn't generally open up about romance, but Helga had known how much she'd liked him. For a while, it really had looked like they were going to work together. And then Rhonda had put together that stupid class survey and ruined it all. Gerald's head had inflated to the size of a blimp and he'd thoughtlessly chased after other girls. So what if they had never been "officially" dating. It still hurt for Phoebe to be just… forgotten about like that. And then he'd had the gall to ask her out shortly after. Phoebe had politely turned him down, and Gerald's name had been avoided between she and Helga ever since. Helga was pretty sure that it still hurt Phoebe sometimes, all these years later.

Arnold, on the other hand… he had been pretty dead to the dating world. She had no idea why; several girls had tried to ask him out over the years (she knew because she'd tried to foil several attempts) but he just didn't seem interested. He always had homework, or his grandpa needed help with something, or there was that one time he was busy volunteering at a homeless shelter... It was a little strange that he always had an excuse, but she wasn't going to question it as long as he stayed single. What she wondered about more was why he hadn't mentioned the FTi incident to Gerald. Everyone knew they were best friends, and he'd certainly had enough time to tell him. Why hadn't he blabbed about it?

Speak of the devil, she thought as Arnold appeared in the classroom doorway. She watched him scan the classroom until his eyes landed on her. Why was he still so focused on being her friend? Oh no, she groaned internally as he began to walk toward her, I've become one of his charity cases. She hadn't had the heart to turn him down at lunch, not when she had been feeling so miserable and lonely herself. But look at how that turned out; Her cover had almost been blown! The last thing she needed right now was for Arnold to be his normal meddling self.

He pulled up a seat next to her and smiled. "Hey," he said, pulling out his books, "How are you handling the material so far?"

Helga rolled her eyes as if annoyed by Arnold's kind question. Maybe she could scare him off if she was callous enough. "I'm doing fine, not that it's any of your business. If I wanted help from someone like you I'm would've asked. Not that I ever would want your help." She turned up her nose at him, but peaked at him through the corner of her eye. He frowned and turned away, and for a moment she thought maybe she'd succeeded.

Then he spoke again. "Well, my offer is still open if you ever need help," he said kindly. Helga was about to spit out something nasty at him when the teacher came in and began to lecture, effectively cutting off their conversation.

Helga glanced over as he talked, catching a glance of Arnold's studious note taking. She was debating if throwing a spitball or two like she used to in elementary school would be enough to get Arnold to back off. There was a chance she would get thrown out for something like that, though, so she decided against it. It was kind of important that she didn't get kicked out of school and killed by a psychopath.

Suddenly she became aware that the classroom had gone silent. Helga blinked up and looked around, only to find the entire class staring at her expectantly. "Mr. Patterson?" The professor asked from the front of the room, "I believe I asked you to explain to the class why land near large bodies of water usually stays warmer during the winter?"

Helga sputtered, her mind blank. She hadn't been listening to the lecture, so she had no idea what they were talking about. She also hadn't done the assigned reading…

"Mr. Manning, isn't it because the water absorbs the heat all through summer, and due to its high specific heat, it lowers in temperature more slowly than its surroundings?" Arnold's smooth voice came from her right, breaking the silence. Helga turned to look at him in awe. He flashed her a quick smile before turning back to the teacher, who did not look happy.

The teacher frowned at Arnold. "That is correct, young man, but I didn't call on you. Please don't speak out of turn like that again or you'll be asked to leave." Helga watched Arnold nod, and the professor went back to his lecture.

Helga's shock slowly began to turn into guilt. Arnold had just stuck his neck out for her, and she had been thinking about throwing spitballs at him! Maybe it wouldn't hurt to let him hang around her a little… he was probably too dense to figure out who she really was on his own, anyway…

When the class ended, Arnold walked with her to the door. When they passed the threshold Arnold began to walk away toward his next class, but Helga tapped him on the shoulder. He looked back at her, slightly confused.

She looked toward the ground and wrung her hands together. "Thanks…" she mumbled, just loud enough to hear, "…for doing that back there…"

Arnold just smiled and waved it off. "No problem, Henrik," he said as he turned away, "I'll see you later." Helga watched him go, a distinct and familiar fluttering building in her chest, before turning to go to her next class as well.

Helga was already dressed for bed by the time Arnold arrived at their room. Apparently he'd decided to do something with Gerald, and it'd taken all evening. To her disappointment, she also didn't see them at dinner. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing; the less time either of them spent with her, the less likely it would be that one of them would figure out who she was. It still made her feel a little lonely though. Maybe Arnold had decided she was a lot cause…

When Arnold walked through the door, Helga hadn't expected much of an explanation. After all, he had no real obligation to keep her company. It surprised her then, when the first thing he did was apologize.

"I'm sorry I wasn't around all evening," He said as he grabbed his things for bed, "Gerald and I discovered that they have racquet ball courts over at the other end of the school, and we got so busy trying them out that we were late for dinner." Arnold threw a smile her way as he headed to the bathroom to change. "It was a lot of fun; you can join us tomorrow, if you want." She still hadn't said a word when he shut the bathroom door.

Helga sat on her bed as she processed this information. So he didn't think she was a lost cause… This was both good and bad news: good in that she would get to spend more time with Arnold, but bad in that they might figure out that "Henrik" wasn't who he said he was. She could try to push him away again, but he'd been so nice to her… Her eyes fell on her bag and she felt a surge of guilt.

He'd gone well out of his way to be kind to her, despite her caustic responses, and she was holding out on him. Slowly, she slid off her bed and began to dig through her bag. Maybe she could make up for it…

When Arnold emerged from the bathroom, Helga was standing in the middle of the room, a small piece of paper delicately held between her fingers. She had been staring at her toes guiltily, but looked up as he approached. "I found this while you were gone," she said quietly, holding the photo out to him, "…I think it might be what you were looking for."

Arnold took the picture from her hand. As he looked down at it his eyes widened and his mouth formed a small 'o' shape. He stayed in that position for a moment, and Helga worried that he might realize that she'd hidden it from him and be angry. Instead, he threw his arms around her.

"I've been looking for this forever!" He exclaimed as he gave her a quick hug. "You have no idea what this means to me!"

Helga felt her face heat up. "Th-there's no need to get all touchy feely on me, I just found the stupid thing…" Helga stuttered, shoving him away. Arnold left the hug and hurried to his suitcase, pulling out a frame. Carefully, he placed the picture in the frame and set it on his desk. He stared at it a moment.

Helga was still blushing in the middle of the room and trying to calm her racing pulse, when he spoke. "They're my parents," he said softly. "It's the only picture of them I brought with me." She saw the stillness that had come over him and bit her tongue, unsure of what to say. Before she had to decide, Arnold turned toward her and spoke again. "Thank you for finding it, Henrik."

"No problem," she said and turned to get the lights so he wouldn't see the blush on her face for very long. She felt her way to her bed in the darkness, pulling the covers over herself and getting settled. By the sounds coming from the other side of the room, Arnold was doing the same.

She stared into the blackness for a moment, thinking about what had just happened. Arnold had told her (well, he'd told Henrik) that the picture was of his parents, but he hadn't mentioned that they weren't around anymore… He probably didn't feel comfortable talking about what happened to them with someone he'd met so recently. When Helga thought about it, she realized that she didn't even know what happened to his parents. It was common knowledge that he didn't have parents, but the reason why was a mystery. In all of her stalking, she'd never heard him say anything about it. Did he even know what happened to them?

"Henrik?" The sound of Arnold's voice brought her out of her pondering.

"What?" she said, sounding slightly irritated.

"Sorry if you were trying to sleep, but I just wanted to say…" Arnold's voice came from the other side of the room, "…I'm sorry if I've acted weird around you at all. It's just that… there's this girl I know back home, and well, don't take this the wrong way, but you look just like her." Helga began to feel very nervous.

"Oh?" she said, trying to sound normal, "What's her name?"

"Her name's Helga, not that it really matters… but the point is that you kind of look exactly like her. It sort of weirded me out for a while…"

Helga laughed nervously. "Does this Helga person look like a guy?"

"No," he answered, "but sometimes you don't really look like a guy either."

Her heart skipped a beat. He figured it out?! Helga panicked inside her head. She held her breath, awaiting the accusation that was sure to come…

Soft laughter came out of the darkness instead. "Sorry, that was mean," Arnold chuckled. "You just look like her is all." There was a silence in which Helga was too relieved to speak and Arnold waited for an answer. When he got none, he decided to speak. "We should probably go to sleep now. Sorry if I kept you up; I just wanted to get that off of my chest."

"Night," she finally managed out.

"Goodnight," Arnold responded, and all was quiet. Alone with her thoughts, it was over an hour later before Helga was calm enough to close her eyes and try to sleep.