Author's Note: Sorry! I've started a new job, I've been doing a lot of running around and I'm trying to keep up with several different message boards at once and I've been studying (work requires training, training requires a test-happy teacher who expects a minimum of 85 percent on most tests, 100 percent on others, so please don't be too mad at me).

The gang (of course, with the exclusion of Helga) had all gone over to the Sunset Arms Boarding House in order for Phoebe to fully elaborate on her plan. "Well, you all look determined today," Stella noted.

Miles nodded his agreement, but he backed away instinctively at the sight of Nadine. She giggled.

"It's okay, I didn't bring any of my spiders with me today!"

"Oh. That's great," he let out a sigh of relief. Stella rolled her eyes at her husband, even though she was smiling. "Stella's right, though, what exactly are you kids up to?…Or young adults, I should say?"

"And where's that one little girl friend of yours, Arnold? I thought you were really looking forward to seeing her?" Stella asked as the color rose in Arnold's cheeks.

"Helga won't talk to me," Arnold was embarrassed, of course, but he was also too polite to tell his parents he felt they were becoming too invasive. "Anyways, do you mind if we all go up to my room? We've got some things we've got to go over."

"Shortman's got a plan!" Phil and Gertie had both come out of the kitchen, the latter wearing a mixing bowl on her head.

"Grandma, what are you --" Arnold started to ask, then shook his head. "You know what? I don't wanna know. We're going up to my room now, okay?" he repeated. The others followed him up. The room was decorated exactly how Arnold had left it. Phil and Gertie simply hadn't had the heart to change it or rent it out. He clicked the remote so that the couch would flip out from the wall then dragged a few chairs from out of his closet. "Some of us will have to sit on the bed," he said apologetically.

When they all settled in, Phoebe started. "All right, so, we all know that Helga's not really someone we can force to do anything --"

"Why does no one take my rope suggestion seriously?" Curly asked.

"Because it's illegal, you freak," Rhonda snapped.

"As I was saying, what I would like to suggest is merely applying pressure to the situation, mainly through the use of suggestive stimuli," Phoebe continued as though she hadn't been interrupted.

"Huh?" Harold asked. "Stimu…whaty?"

"Well, the easier parts about it will be everyone engaging Helga in conversation," Phoebe elaborated, "And making certain Arnold is brought up in the conversation. She's uh…having a hard time forgetting about him in the first place. It's probably just as hard on her not talking to him as it would be to talk to him. We simply need to push her in the opposite direction. Gently, though."

"So all of us swamp her and start spamming her with the idea of Arnold?" Sid asked. Phoebe shook her head.

"No, some of us will be on the stimuli side. Different things that would remind her of Arnold."

"I don't know, Phoebe. It seems kind of mean to force her into this," Arnold sighed. "Maybe I should just leave her alone and talk to her when she's ready?"

"Please. Helga's so stubborn she may force herself never to talk to you," Rhonda shook her head. "And then she'll take her anger out on us and you will get all sad and mopey on us."

"Rhonda's right, Arnold. Don't you want to work things out?" Gerald asked.

"I guess, Gerald, but it still seems kind of wrong."

Phoebe remained silent, but she did agree with Arnold. It was a rather mean plan to force Helga to think of Arnold when all she'd done the past few years was try to forget about him. But Helga had proven time and time again she couldn't forget Arnold, so Phoebe felt it was necessary. The two needed to talk things out. If this was the only way, so be it.


"Please, Mr. Simmons?" Nadine, Sheena, Lila, and Rhonda all chorused at once, their hands clasped together as they widened their eyes. Class would start in ten minutes, and they needed his cooperation to start the plan.

"I…I don't know girls, a whole day on love poems? Where would I get the material?"

"What about our anonymous poet? Don't they have some poems you haven't read yet?" Sheena suggested.

"Well, yes, but…we really are supposed to be working on mystery stories…That's our unit, that's what I told the school board I'd be teaching you right now."

"It's just one day, Mr. Simmons, and I'm ever so certain we'll all work even harder on our detective unit if you'll just please allow us this," Lila tried.

Mr. Simmons bit his lip as he examined his study plan. "Well…all right, but I'm warning you girls, this is going to be hard to make up. You'll have to read two different short stories in one night!" Mr. Simmons didn't realize how little he was asking of them. The girls all shared looks and smiled.

"That'll be fine, Mr. Simmons," Nadine agreed. "Just fine."

They all scooted into their desks as the bell rang and kids filed in, all of them pushing past Helga so she'd be the last one in the class. She glared at the few who'd almost knocked her over, then had to hold back a groan when she realized the only empty desk was the one beside Arnold. She sighed and took her seat, making a big show of looking in the opposite direction of Arnold.

"All right, class, as a special req--" Mr. Simmons had started to mention that the girls had requested it, but he noticed Rhonda and Nadine shaking their heads, and he realized they didn't want the class to know why he was doing this. "Well, anyways, today we're going to have a special day that's only love poems. Isn't that just wonderful, class?"

"It certainly is," Rhonda muttered, giving Phoebe the thumbs up sign.

"This one is from our own special anonymous poet," Mr. Simmons picked the paper up. Arnold glanced over at Helga and noticed she looked like she was trying to claw at her desk, her expression a mixture of livid and embarrassed.

Summer's green grass embodied in those eyes,

Those glowing orbs which emote every feeling

His hair of gold summer's brightest day

That smile is every warm feeling I've ever had

She seemed to sigh in relief when it was over. "You said it was love poem day," Eugene pointed out, "Can we hear another?" He was waving his hand so enthusiastically he fell out of his desk. "I'm okay!"

"Well, I have another one from our anonymous poet. Should I read that?" Most of the class chorused a 'yes'. Helga sunk so far into her chair that Arnold could hardly see her face anymore.

The tears fall, but there's no one to wipe them away

I break, but no one helps me pick up the pieces

I fall, no one helps me back up again.

A day without you seems impossible.

A year goes by, and I think the world may end.

The years pass and fade, but your face

Remains crystal clear in my mind

I trace the days, the memories

I play our first kiss over and over again -

Our first and last.

The radio croons songs of lost love,

I cry over you.

Someone wears the same cologne,

My mind tricks me into thinking you're there.

If I could banish these thoughts,

Forget these images,

No matter how painful,

I'd want them to remain in my heart.

"Now, class, what do you think this poet meant?" Mr. Simmons asked. "Yes, Arnold?"

"I think they really miss someone, to the point where it hurts them. But they're still glad they knew them, because hurting like that is better than having never been with them at all."

"Very good," Mr. Simmons nodded. "It seems like a very special 'better to have loved then lost, then never to have loved at all'."

"But if it hurts them how can you be glad about it?" Harold demanded.

"Yeah," Sid chorused. "I mean, if it hurts you that much you'd be better off forgetting about it."

"I'm with Pink Boy and the munchkin," Helga added, jerking her thumb in Harold's direction. "This poem sounds crazy."

Phoebe made eye contact with Helga, her look knowing. Yeah, yeah, Pheebs. We both know I wrote it, but you know just as well as I do that it sounds like a crazy person. Besides, she stole a glance at Arnold, I'm not going to talk to him, no matter what. It's about time I stopped being so hung up on him.

"I thought it was beautiful," Arnold shrugged. "The poet's really talented. I wish I knew who they were."

It took every last bit of determination in Helga's body to stop herself from swooning. Sure, he didn't know he was complimenting her, but he was complimenting her. She slapped herself, forcing herself out of her reverie.

"It sounds really familiar," Nadine coughed, trying to get the plan on track. "I mean," she purposefully glanced at Helga, who glowered, "I think we all know a person like that, that had someone they loved who then moved away from them."

"Or stayed in a jungle," Rhonda muttered in Helga's direction.

"Watch it, Princess," Helga hissed back.

"Oh, my, well, it seems we're out of time, but it was a very special way to spend the day," Mr. Simmons ended the class right as the bell started ringing. "I hope you all have a wonderful day!"

Helga once more took off so that Arnold couldn't talk to her, but this time Sheena gave him the thumbs up signal. "Rhonda and I have our P.E. class with her, and Rhonda has a plan for it."

"Oh. Okay, great," Arnold said. "I guess I'll just go with Gerald to Art, then."


"No way, I don't think we'll be doing that. Today's a volleyball day," Trish insisted.

"But coach," Rhonda pleaded, "This is to help Helga…you know, your maid of honor at your second wedding?"

"All right, have it your way," Trish conceded, setting her volleyball down on the bench. She'd always had a soft spot when it came to Helga G Pataki, most likely because she saw so much of herself in Helga. "Really, I've never seen you girls want to play --" She waved at Helga when she came in. "Runnin' a little late there, Pataki. I expect better from you."

"Sorry, coach," Helga apologized, starting to grab for the volleyball. Trish shook her head.

"Change in plans. Looks like we're playing football today."

"Football?" Helga groaned. It wasn't that she couldn't play. She'd been good at football for years now, and it's not like she'd stopped playing completely after Arnold left, but even looking at that stupid football made her think of that stupid football shaped head of his… Criminy, what is going on today? First a stupid poetry day and now this? She was starting to suspect that something was going on, but she didn't have time to break it down. Nadine had passed her the ball.

She was drenched in sweat by the time the class had ended, and she was the only one who wasn't sore or bruised (she'd tackled every girl in the class, including the ones on her own team. She'd apologized, but she wasn't all that sorry. She could tell something was going on, and she didn't like feeling like she was being ganged up on).

The rest of the day went like that. The cologne she'd smelled on Arnold when he'd gotten close enough to her seemed to waft towards her no matter how far away she was, at lunch Phoebe had brought her some ice cream, and at the end of the day either she had hallucinated, or she'd spotted Abner running through the halls. Plus it seemed like everyone she'd had Mr. Simmons class with in 4th grade was cutting her off in the halls to mention how sad Arnold was that he wasn't talking to her, or to bring up a time Arnold had helped them or in the more devious cases to talk football with her.

"Criminy, can't I go one day where something doesn't remind me of him?" she considered, "Or just a few minutes, in today's case…Something's going on with those guys, and somehow it involves Arnold. Well jokes on all of you," she called to what appeared to be an empty hall, "Because just talking to me about him is not somehow going to make me feel bad about ignoring him!"

She heard breathing behind her. She turned around to see Brainy, his hand extended, his palm closed tightly around something he clearly expected her to take from him. "What is it?" she asked. He didn't answer. Sighing, she extended her own hand, palm up and allowed him to set her old locket there. "When did you…how did you get this?" she asked through gritted teeth. She no longer carried the locket on her person these days, and she was certain she'd left it at home on her nightstand, but here Brainy was, holding it…

"You should talk to him. He misses you," Brainy wheezed out.

"Who told him to do that?" Arnold asked from around the corner the whole group was hiding behind.

"Nobody, the freak is deviating from the plan," Rhonda shrugged. "I don't know what the deal with that locket is."

"I thought freak was your pet name for me," Curly whined.

"Keep dreaming, weirdo," Rhonda snorted, turning her attention back to Helga. "But the question is, is she going to take the bait?"

"Hmm…it seems to me she doesn't look angry," Phoebe noted, studying Helga's stance carefully, "she seems to be considering something. However, I suggest we all agree not to tell her we had anything to do with this. After all, I don't think any of us want to be on Helga's bad side."

They all nodded their agreement, but in the moment they looked away, they didn't see Abner running straight for Helga. They did, however, hear her cry of "You stupid pig, I'm going to make bacon outta you!" as she gave chase to him. "I knew somebody let you loose here, and when I find out who's been doing this to me all day they're going to answer to 'Ol Betsy' and the 'Five Avengers'!"

Phoebe bit her lip. "It seems I had a slight oversight with my plan…"

"I knew this was a bad idea. Thanks for all your help, guys," Arnold said, running off.

"Arnold, man, where are you going?" Gerald called after him.

"I've gotta save Abner, and then I'm going to try to get Helga to talk to me! I'll catch up with you guys later."

"Mmm-mm-mm. All these years, and he's still a bold kid," Gerald said, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"Yeah. Helga's gonna kill him, though," Sid pointed out.

"Maybe," Gerald shrugged. "But then again…if anyone can actually calm down Helga G. Pataki and make her see reason, it's Arnold."