A/N:
Okay, before you all freak out and call everyone you know and tell them that TA is finally OVER, please note that this is not the last chapter—the conclusion was just getting TOO long so I've decided to break it up into a Chapter 12 and a Chapter 13 (which means, unfortunately, that Arnold's poem is actually in Chapter 13). However, I have everything fully typed and grammar edited (including the epilogues) so Ch13 should be up in the next couple of days, followed very quickly by the two epilogues. I want this story completely posted before I go back to school and that's Saturday, so in less than a week, everything will be done!!!
For now, please enjoy Chapter 12 which has some things in it that I hope will make up for not getting to see Arnold's poem for a few more days (it's all written out, though, and I hope it's in character and that you guys all like it!)
Also, thanks to A Silver Cloud's Lullaby and others for pointing out some of the grammar problems as well as the fact that some of the scene break lines I had inserted using MS Word weren't showing up on the documents when they were posted on the site (I've started using the ff dot net line breaks now). I've also done grammar edits and reposts on all of the other chapters in case you want to go back and read them to refresh your memory or anything.
Also, severe bonus points to anyone who knows what awesome anime series I'm slightly referencing with the cool thing Phoebe does outside of the closet. You'll know it when you get to it ;) (Hint: Don't let the mention of the word 'ninja' throw you off—it is NOT Naruto!)
Okay, so please, get to reading!!! I'm dying to know what you all think!!!
Disclaimer:
Believe me, I wish I WAS Craig Bartlett—I would've loved the chance to bring a show like this to the world. (As for wishing I was Viacom and Nick…yeah, I'm going to pass on that…way too corporate for me.)
Dedication:
This one (in fact this whole fic) is for everyone who's ever contributed anything to HA! from the creators to the voice actors to the fans. Especially the fans, though, because I think that by reading the fanfics and drawing the fan art and making the fanvids and just loving the show in general, we kind of give it a second life, you know?
Alright, enough of my ridiculously long A/N's. Enjoy :)
TUTORING ARNOLD
Chapter 12:
They Know!!!
"Arnold! Arnold! Don't panic! We're going to get you out of there!" There was a pause in Gerald's shouts of assurance. "Somehow…" Another pause. "Probably…"
These hesitations did little to assuage the fears of Arnold who was currently trying to duck out of the grasp of Helga G. Pataki much as he had done on the roof of the FTi building only a few short weeks ago. However, Helga's intentions this time around were a little bit different than they had been the previous month.
"I am going to KILL you!" She lunged.
"Helga, now, come on! I-I know you don't really want to hurt me!" He ducked.
"Oh, Arnold, you are seriously overestimating my self control—you have NO IDEA what I want to do to you right now!" Another lunge.
"Helga, I don't want to have to stop you, but—but I will if I have to!" The tone of his voice didn't exactly bespeak too much confidence in this plan as he ducked yet again.
"Oh, PLEASE!!!" Helga lunged once again.
"Helga, enough!" Arnold had barely escaped her that time. "Okay, that's it!"
The janitor's closet not being designed to house a physical altercation between two ten-year-olds, a lot of items were being knocked over and scattered everywhere to the point where neither Arnold nor Helga could move much anymore. Looking around, Arnold finally realized that this 'fight' needed to stop before one of them actually did get hurt, or before anyone outside besides Gerald and Phoebe heard what was going on. He took a deep breath, considered for a second, and then with a slightly guilty conscience did the only thing he could think of to calm down an angry Helga G. Pataki.
Arnold took a breath, closed his eyes and suddenly lunged right at her, wrapping his arms around her body. If holding her hand or touching her shoulder had been enough to make her momentarily tense-up over the last two days, then a hug should have that effect significantly magnified. 'Hopefully…' he couldn't help but add to himself.
Sure enough, Helga's breath caught in her throat at the feeling of Arnold's arms around her body, though she was still riding a bit of an adrenaline rush. "Let me go! Let me go, Arnold!" She was struggling, but she could feel her will to pull away waning as she became more and more aware of the warmth of his body and the pressure of his arms. "I said…" Her voice was faltering and she had finally stopped fighting to get out of the hug. "I-I said let me go…"
"That depends…" Arnold, his arms still wrapped around Helga, pulled back slightly so that he could look at her face. "If I let you go, are you going to calm down so that we can talk about this?"
"Before or after I mount your head on my living room wall?!" seethed Helga with her last bit of full fury.
Arnold glared at her and made no motion of releasing his grip.
"You know, I could break out of this stupid hold of yours if I really wanted to." She leered at him.
Arnold didn't falter. "That's the point: you don't want to…not really…" Helga growled but he ignored her. "Now, truce?"
Helga took a few more heavy breaths, though they were slowing down. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, feeling a blush coming to her cheeks as the adrenaline faded away leaving only the raw awareness of her beloved holding her in his arms. "Okay," she replied in a somewhat level voice, "Okay, just let me go, already, and we'll 'talk,' Football Head."
Arnold lingered in his hold of Helga for a moment longer and then tentatively released her. He breathed an internal sigh of relief that she didn't suddenly grab him by the throat or slam him into a wall.
Finally free from her beloved's grasp, Helga took several slow, deep breaths more and then spoke, her eyes closed. "Okay, Arnold…I'm going to try to keep my temper as under control as I possibly can. I am really going to try and not hit you or anything like that, and just 'talk'." She put air quotes around the word. "That being said…" Suddenly, her eyes flew open and hands were clenching his shirt collar. Arnold's eyes widened in surprise as she finished her sentence. "…Are you OUT of your MIND?!?!?!"
"You're talking about this whole 'poem' thing, right?" Arnold couldn't help it: he knew Helga's patience was practically gone at this point, but right now he was more afraid of her than he had ever been in his entire life. As a result, the slightly humorous question was the first thing out of his mouth before he could think of something better. He half grinned and hoped that somehow she wouldn't take it the wrong way.
Helga growled furiously and Arnold shut his eyes tight as he saw her fist fly forward.
He heard the sound of her fist making contact and then waited a second for the pain to hit. Then two seconds. Then three seconds. Still, there was nothing. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes to see Helga a couple of feet away rubbing one of her fists like it was sore. He looked down at his body and felt his face: nothing. Finally, he glanced around the room and saw a 'wet floor' sign that had been hanging from a hook on the wall now upon on the floor, and severely dented on one side.
Arnold blinked and then turned back to Helga, approaching her. "Helga, are you okay?" he asked in a genuinely concerned voice as he realized that her bare hand was what had managed to damage the sign so severely.
She looked up and, seeing him approach, backed herself into a corner, scowling at her beloved. "Oh, just shut up, Arnold! Of course, I'm fine—I'm going to have bruises all over my knuckles sometime in the next hour, but I'm fine. Jerk." She turned away from him and crossed her arms over her chest.
Arnold blinked and a look of incredulity came to his face. "Helga, why did you do that?" 'She could have broken her hand!' he thought to himself. 'I almost wish she had just hit me instead.'
Helga whipped around and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, for the love of—" She growled to herself again and then looked Arnold right in the eye. "Because, CLUELESS, I really needed to hit SOMETHING after you tossed that stupid sarcastic question on top of everything else you've done to me over the past three days, but unfortunately I couldn't actually hit YOU because stupid me is still in love with stupid you. So, instead, I hit the first thing I saw that wasn't shaped like a Football and that wouldn't make me feel like I didn't deserve to live if I took a piece out of it! Why the HECK are you so slow when it comes figuring out why I do things when I'm around you, Football Head?! It should be obvious—the answer is always 'Because I love you!!!' " With this last statement she had grabbed a very stunned Arnold by the shoulders and looked at him not with anger so much as pure frustration and even a touch of desperation.
A moment passed and then Arnold took a deep breath and slowly stepped out of Helga's grasp. He cupped both of her fists into his hands and lowered them. He looked sincerely into her eyes and finally spoke. "Thank you, Helga." He smiled slightly at the distraught girl before him. Helga's eyes lost their scowl and she blinked at the response to her sudden rant. Arnold's smile increased just slightly and he let her hands go.
Arnold took a deep breath and addressed Helga again. "Okay, so, are we ready to talk about this?"
"Just so I'm clear—we're talking about this whole 'poem' thing, right?" Helga didn't exactly mean her repetition of Arnold's words to sound ironic, though the implication couldn't be helped. In a way, though, she wanted Arnold to just flat out admit that he had written that poem and that it had been about her. What exactly she was hoping to gain from such a confession, though, even she wasn't entirely positive. Sure, there was the satisfaction of having him admit his guilt, but there was also something inside of her that made her heart flutter wildly at the idea of Arnold admitting to caring about her enough to do something as huge as write a poem about her, regardless of how utterly stupid it had been to do so as evidenced by their current situation.
Arnold couldn't help the slight smirk that came to his face at the sound of the mocking question. He tried his best not to laugh, though, so as not to upset the delicate truce he had finally managed to form with Helga. "Yes, Helga. About how I…" he suddenly became aware of just how awkward this topic was, and glanced away, "…how I wrote, um, a poem that might have…I guess…" he couldn't help severely blushing as he tried to continue, "…that might have had some stuff in it that, um, came from me thinking about you…I mean thinking about some things between you and me... And how…how everyone else might have figured that out…the parts about you, I mean…" He finally mustered up enough courage to look at Helga again.
The look that Arnold found on her face caused him to raise an eyebrow in curiosity, which was ironic since that's exactly what Helga was doing just then. She wasn't scowling or seething: she was just looking at him like she couldn't understand something about what he was saying.
"What?" Arnold asked with a tinge of nervousness to his voice. He felt his heartbeat increase slightly. 'What did I do now?'
Helga bit the bottom of her lip and hesitated. The way he had stuttered and looked away from her blushing like that, the way he had seemed almost shy talking about writing about her, and the way he had described her inspiring him… He reminded her of, well, herself when it came to Arnold: granted, a less dramatic and monologue-prone version of herself, but herself nonetheless. ' 'There's only one explanation…my man Arnold is in love with you…' Oh, shut UP, Gerald!' she screamed mentally as his words resounded in her head yet again since he had said them.
Helga opened her mouth, considered, and then closed it. She lost the curious gaze and rubbed her temples for a second. "Never mind. Look, Arnold," she started in a very calm voice, her eyes shut, "just…just don't do something like that again. No more poems about me, okay? Pretend I'm not even here: I'm just the fourth grade bully as usual—nothing else." She reached for the door handle, more than ready to let them both out now so that they could finally resume their normal lives and social roles.
Her eyes naturally flew open wide at the sound of the word "No," which came calmly and quietly from the ten-year-old boy behind her.
"What?" was all she could think to ask in a genuinely stunned voice as she turned to face him.
Arnold swallowed hard and did his best to look her straight in the eye. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, Helga, then I can't do anything about that." He approached her. "But if you're still allowed to think and write about me then…" his gaze faltered away from hers for a second, but he quickly resumed looking her full in the face, "then why shouldn't I still be allowed to think and write about you?"
Helga blinked in surprise at the argument: Arnold was always so compliant to her demands and for the first time she could recall (except, perhaps, during the FTi incident when he had refused to believe the initial excuses she had given him for her being Deep Voice) he was seriously challenging her final word on something.
Suddenly, she could feel her anger returning, and she replied with a scowl and an edge to her voice, "Three reasons bucko!" Helga counted them off on her fingers. "Because I know how to write a poem without making it completely obvious who it's about, because I don't make it so that you have to spend the next few weeks doing severe damage control to your reputation, and most importantly, Arnold—because I don't suck at keeping secrets!"
Arnold couldn't help rolling his eyes at this last statement and muttering to himself under his breath. "Yeah, then how come at least four people in our class know everything, including me?"
Unfortunately for Arnold, the broom closet was small enough and quiet enough that Helga heard everything. Fortunately for him, though, she chose to respond with sarcasm rather than more attempts at violence.
Helga rested her right arm in the palm of her left hand and put her right hand to her chin as though in deep thought. "Well, let's see…" she began with a false smile and overly pleasant voice, "my best friend figured it out all on her own, your ex-girlfriend blackmailed me, Gerald apparently finds out everything going on in this town one way or another, and hmm…" She looked upward as though really trying to remember who remained to be mentioned. "Oh, yes, and maybe, just maybe, YOU know because of that little rooftop interrogation where you couldn't take an excuse as an answer!" She shoved a finger in his face, glaring.
Arnold raised a skeptical eyebrow, a look of annoyance on his face. "You were on a building in a trench coat with a voice box and you'd been spying on me for the last twenty-four hours—I think I deserved an explanation!"
"And I gave you THREE good ones!" She threw her hands in the air. "But NO, you needed the TRUTH!"
He raised an eyebrow, put a hand on his hip, and quoted the reasons she had given so long ago, counting them on his fingers just as she had done with her reasons for him to stop writing about her. " 'No reason,' 'It's my civic duty', 'I love a good mystery?' " He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, why didn't I buy any of those?"
"Honestly, Arnold, I don't know! You've believed much less likely stuff during much crazier situations in the past." Helga was basically on argument autopilot at this point and the comeback had left her mouth before she could really think about it. Realizing what she had just said, though, her eyes widened and she closed her mouth.
Arnold didn't respond at first but just stood there with a face that was a mixture of angry and pensive. 'Why did I keep pushing her for a reason on the roof? I mean, I only had two minutes to meet Gerald, and it wasn't like the excuses she gave me were completely unbelievable… Why did I care so much about knowing why she did it?'
Suddenly, the last line of her last response really hit him and his train of thought changed entirely. He looked at her. "Wait, what do you mean I've 'believed much less likely stuff during much crazier situations in the past?' What 'stuff,' what 'situations?' "
Helga could feel herself blushing. "Look, we're…uh, we're getting off topic!" She tried in vain to return some of the anger to her voice and threw in a weak scowl. "The reason we're here is that you shouldn't have handed in that poem and you are NOT going to be handing in any more!"
Arnold, however, was putting some things together in his mind. "You've lied to me before, haven't you?" He took a step toward her.
Helga tried to ignore him. "Using that poem as your homework was stupid and unnecessary, and it wasn't exactly the fairest thing to me—I mean, what part of 'goodbye' didn't you get, yesterday?"
Arnold took another step closer. "Deep Voice wasn't the first time you've done something that I didn't know about… You've been doing other things all this time too, haven't you?"
Helga took another step away from him and suddenly felt herself trip over a mop and fall backwards, similar to how she had tripped and fallen when Arnold had approached her on the roof of FTi. The déjà vous made her heart race, but she tried to continue her argument. "You're just lucky that Simmons thought to say it was by Anonymous even though you probably didn't know to tell him to…"
Arnold continued approaching her, feeling like he was realizing something very important but still lacking some specifics to put it all together. "The fire escape, the school play… There's been other times you've done stuff for me or to me in secret..." He took yet another step closer to the frightened girl. "How did you know about that broken window pane in my room, again, Helga…and about how Curly managed to escape from behind my couch?"
Helga tugged at her collar and glanced away from him. "Uh, you know, speaking of Curly, maybe just to be safe I'll start a rumor that he wrote that poem about Rhonda…It's a long shot but—"
"Helga, ENOUGH!" Arnold suddenly blurted out.
"Huh?!?!" Helga looked completely frazzled at this point, sitting on the floor, holding a mop, blushing and fighting a losing battle to bring the conversation back to Arnold's poem.
BANG!
"AH!!!" Helga yelled. Her eyes shifted fearfully away from Arnold to the door, against which something had definitely just hit: hard. 'It's okay, it's okay… It's just Gerald and Phoebe still trying to get in here. Just take a deep breath…'
"Helga," Arnold hadn't even glanced at the door, "forget about Gerald and Phoebe for a minute. This is about us." He knelt down beside her, reached his hand forward and slowly turned her face away from the door and back to looking into her eyes.
The resumed stare between them continued in silence for several moments. Helga could feel her heart pounding in her chest. 'If the next thing out of his mouth has anything to do with the words 'parrot' 'locket' or 'Valentine's Day' ' she thought to herself, her stomach twisting in knots, 'then forget P.S. 119--I'm going back to Alaska with Olga on the next flight!!!'
Arnold took a deep breath and Helga noticed that there appeared to be almost a touch of hurt in his searching eyes. "Helga, why don't you just tell me the truth, for once?"
Helga couldn't breathe. She pushed herself back as far as she could to increase the distance between them but all she succeeded in doing was pushing herself even harder against the wall. Her shifting caused the head of the mop now laying across her lap to knock into a bottle of cleaner which fell on the floor and began to spill out near Arnold's feet. The slick substance caused Arnold, whose entire focus had been on Helga and who was already leaning over her, to suddenly lose his balance. "Whoa—oh!"
There was a crash.
Meanwhile, out in the hallway…
"Hold on, hold on…" Gerald was trying his best to break the lock of the janitor's closet door handle—an act which he had actually been attempting for the last ten minutes while Arnold and Helga had been having their little 'love fest.'
"Okay, I think I've almost…WHOA!!!" Gerald had put all of his strength into turning the stiff handle of the wooden door. However, the lock wasn't budging and thus his hands slipped forward, leaving the door still shut tight and now himself sprawled on the floor of the hallway.
Phoebe approached him with concern. "Gerald, are you okay?"
Gerald stood up, flexing his stiff fingers. "Yeah, I'm fine. But things have gotten quiet in there and I'm starting to get worried." He glanced at the door. "I just wish I could get in there for five seconds to make sure Arnold's okay…"
Phoebe turned from Gerald to the locked door handle in question and gave it a scrutinizing look. She then glanced from side to side and, seeing that the hallway appeared deserted for now, placed her backpack on the floor and took a few steps back. "Gerald, will you please step to the side for a moment?" She gestured to the left with her head.
Gerald blinked in surprise at the request but did as he was told.
He watched with curiosity as Phoebe closed her eyes and took a deep, relaxing breath. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and looked to the door handle. "Rin, pyou, tou, sha, kai, jin, retsu, zai, zen!" She shouted these words and raced toward the door, landing her right hand firmly and horizontally against the handle. A second passed and then suddenly it fell to the ground with a dull clunk.
Gerald just raised a baffled eyebrow at the young girl before him who had recomposed herself just as suddenly as she had gone into this strange attack. "What the heck was THAT?" he asked in a noticeably high-pitched voice.
Phoebe recalled, suddenly, that he was indeed in the hallway with her, and blushed considerably. "Well, I didn't want to do have to resort to breaking the door handle because it's school property, but, since Arnold and Helga are our best friends, I determined that doing so outweighed leaving them alone in there for much longer." She smiled.
Gerald still looked at her in utter perplexity. "But where did that come from? I mean, how did you learn to do it?"
Phoebe cleared her throat and glanced away. "I practice several types of self-defense and meditation in my home with my father and mother. Up until recently we were focusing on fencing but, with fourth grade ending soon, my father decided I should start learning the specialized meditation forms of Kuji-in and Ninjutsu, which involve attacks like the one I just demonstrated." Phoebe glanced back at Gerald with a look of uncertainty as she awaited his response. "I know it probably seems a little strange…"
A large smile came to Gerald's face. "Strange? That was…AWESOME!!!" He ran right up to her. "Man, you need to teach me to do that! I'd never have to be afraid of Helga or anyone beating the stuffing out of me ever again!"
Phoebe smiled happily and giggled. "Of course, Gerald." She blushed slightly and gestured back to the janitor's closet door with her head. "But right now I think we should resume our task of assisting Arnold and Helga with their current situation."
Gerald couldn't help but blush as he realized he had been getting slightly carried away. "Oh, uh, right, right…" He turned to the janitor's closet door as well, now, and swallowed hard. He took a deep breath and put his hand against the wood. "Well, here it goes…" The sound of a crash inside made him hesitate for a moment and shake his head. "It's gonna be a long adolescence, isn't it?" he couldn't help but add under his breath. And with that he gave the door a gentle push inwards.
"AHH!!!"
"AHH!!!"
"AHH!!! Oh, for the love of—what is wrong with you guys?! We are ten-years-old, for crying out loud!"
The bright light of the hallway entering the closet had surprised the two blonde fourth graders who had been so wrapped up in their tête-à-tête that they had forgotten briefly about the outside world.
Likewise, Gerald had been surprised…though his shock came from the sight that had met his eyes upon peeking inside the closet. He had expected to see his friends at each other's throats, as usual. He had even been prepared for them to be in a serious physical altercation. Heck, he wouldn't have been very surprised if they had been about to kiss again! But he hadn't exactly been prepared for this… In addition, not being aware of the circumstance of the slippery cleaning fluid didn't exactly add to his understanding of the reality of the scene.
Helga was all but lying on the floor, her head propped up a bit by a bucket and some other cliché cleaning items behind her. And Arnold, who had been kneeling over her before slipping forward, was now lying on top of her. Both of them had wide eyes and both of their faces were very close.
Helga looked to Gerald who seemed frozen on the spot, his head just peeking into the room.
"Gerald, what's—" At the sound of the yells, Phoebe had approached to glance inside the closet as well. Her eyes went wide as she finally saw the position that her best friend and Arnold were in. Not even finishing her sentence, she just sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes underneath her glasses.
A second passed and then Helga scowled darkly at the two children who seemed to have no intention of stopping their little interruption of her and Arnold's current conversation. "Not! Now!" she spat at Gerald and Phoebe, and with that she managed to reach her foot to the side and kick the door closed right in their faces.
In the hallway, Gerald and Phoebe just looked at each other for a few moments. Finally, Gerald turned away from the closet door and propped himself against the lockers on the left side. He slid down to the floor so that he was sitting. "So…since it doesn't look like there's any bloodshed to speak of, should we just wait out here for them to figure things out?"
Phoebe sighed and leaned against the lockers on the right side of the door, mimicking his descent to the floor. "I suppose that would be best, Gerald."
A moment of silence passed between the two fourth graders. Gerald took a breath and turned to Phoebe. "Hey, Phoebe?"
"Yes, Gerald?" She turned to him.
"Just so I know what I'm getting myself into… Have you been having to do stuff like this all the time...you know, since you've known about this whole Helga/Arnold thing for a while? I mean, is keeping this 'secret' in check gonna end up being a full time job for me like it is right now, or is there ever any downtime?"
Phoebe considered for a second, then smiled to herself. She removed her glasses and began cleaning one of the lenses with the end of her sweater. "I've assisted Helga with whatever she's needed in regards to a lot of things over the years, including 'ice cre—uh, Arnold." Gerald raised an eyebrow at this seemingly random slip up, but Phoebe just cleared her throat and continued. "Anyway, it can require a lot of…patience. Usually, though, she seems to try to handle anything that might come up on her own." She put her glasses back on and turned to Gerald. "However, from what I've been observing, it seems that a great deal of the work you and I as well as Lila have been having to do over the last three days has come from the fact that Arnold not only knows of Helga's feelings but does not want to keep them a secret anymore…at least, not between them. This, of course, is conflicting with Helga's mission to hide her feelings at all costs from everyone…especially Arnold."
"So, what you're saying is…this is my life from now on?"
"Until they can reach some kind of compromise, precisely." She smiled at him.
Gerald sighed and dragged a hand down his face.
There was another moment of silence.
"Gerald?"
"Yeah?" He turned to Phoebe, who was looking ahead now.
She hesitated and then asked in a quiet voice, "Do you truly believe what you told me before about Arnold's feelings for Helga?"
"You mean, that he loves her." Gerald considered for a moment. "Phoebe, I've known that boy for seven years now and I know when he's got something for a girl." He hesitated a second. "It is a little weirder this time, though—I'll give you that…"
Phoebe glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Gerald furrowed his brow, "Usually he jumps all over it when he finds a girl he likes. He fell head over heels for Ruth McDougal the first day he saw her, it took a weekend of Lila hanging around him for him to practically become her slave, heck, he was even obsessed with that substitute teacher we had for a week, Ms. Felter… but he's fighting against this 'liking Helga' thing like the plague. He wants to spend all his time with her, he kissed her, he's writing poems about her, but he flat out insists that he does not love Helga." He turned to Phoebe. "But he does! He has to! I mean, he might not want to marry her but, come on, he at least likes her-likes her! I just don't get it…" He scratched his head. "I mean, she's not my 'favorite person' or anything, but admitting that he feels something about her has got to be better than the two of them running around, nearly killing each other and almost blowing this whole thing in front of the entire class!"
Gerald looked to Phoebe almost like he was suddenly expecting a real explanation from her for all of this insanity. After all, she was the smartest girl in school—certainly, if anyone could figure it out, it was her, right?
Phoebe hesitated. "Gerald, do you think it's possible that perhaps he does not want to admit to himself that he cares for Helga because of the fact that he already knows that Helga cares for him? That he's afraid of having feelings for someone who would readily reciprocate those feelings? Perhaps he is unsure of how to handle that type of situation." Gerald couldn't help but notice a red tinge come to Phoebe's face. She quickly glanced away from him before continuing. "Something like that can be… awkward…especially since we—since they are only ten. What I'm trying to say is, perhaps at least part of his hesitation is stemming from the fact that he does not want to be in love with Helga because is afraid of how that might change things between them."
Gerald hadn't been able to help blushing at her change of 'we' to 'they' in her penultimate sentence. He cleared his throat and glanced away. "I never really thought about it like that. You might be right, though… None of the girls he's ever liked have ever liked him back. At least, not at the same time. I guess it would be kind of weird for him to think about changing the relationship he has with Helga right now so much…even if he kind of wants to deep down." He turned to Phoebe again and smiled. "You know, I'm really glad you're here helping me with all of this, Phoebe. You're really smart about this stuff."
Phoebe swallowed hard and smiled back at Gerald. "Thank you, Gerald. I…I feel very fortunate that you are here, as well. It's nice to have some company for once."
The two ten-year-olds remained smiling at each other for a couple more seconds. Suddenly, they both blinked and glanced away from each other, clearing their throats awkwardly.
A moment passed and then Gerald sighed to himself and leaned his head back against the lockers. His eyes were closed and a slight smile was on his face. "You know, I always knew Helga G. Pataki would kill me one day…I just didn't think she'd do it by having me be her matchmaker."
"Actually, I was always quite certain that that would be how she would kill me," replied Phoebe with a sigh.
Both ten-year-olds looked at each other and then burst out laughing.
Suddenly, Gerald's face fell and he appeared to be staring at something.
Phoebe tried to get her laughter under control, and looked at him with a touch of concern. "Gerald, what is it?"
"Hey, it's Gerald and Phoebe!"
"Yeah! Hey, guys, what are you doin' by the janitor's closet?"
"Phoebe, have you seen Helga anywhere—I want to get to the bottom of this whole thing as soon as possible. The school paper goes to print tomorrow and there'll be no excuse if I don't have something about this whole poem situation in my column."
Phoebe's face fell as well. She turned with a stunned expression to see the remainder of Mr. Simmons' fourth grade class walking up the hall behind her.
She whipped back around to Gerald. "Gerald, what should we do?!" she asked in a panicked whisper.
Gerald took a deep breath and stood up. "Hey, guys—what's up? We're still on for baseball practice at four today, right?" he called out to the other kids with a smooth smile.
He reached out a hand to help Phoebe up, which she took. "We stall," he whispered to her, "…and hope that somehow Arnold and Helga can figure out a way out of this one."
Meanwhile back in the closet…
As Helga kicked shut the closet door after her exclamation at Gerald and Phoebe, she turned back with a scowl to face Arnold. However, her anger both at him and at being interrupted was checked a bit by her awareness of their proximity and the feeling of his weight on her body. She blinked and could feel her breaths coming quite shallowly.
Finally, she managed to say something. It wasn't sarcastic or biting, though, but rather an observation…and something she found rather interesting. "You know, you're still on top of me, Arnold."
Arnold blinked, the shock of the moment finally leaving him, and he began to push himself off of her. He finally stood, dusting himself off and refusing to make eye contact with her, a blush on his face. Always being a gentleman, though, he did reach out his hand to help Helga up, which she took without the usual sarcastic and defensive hesitation. Her face betrayed no emotion as she brushed herself off as well, making sure none of the spilled cleaning fluid had stained her jumper. Helga took a step forward to finally get herself away from the wall against which she had managed to trap herself. However, doing so caused her to slip on said soapy substance and right into Arnold, who caught her under the arms with his own strong ones, holding her around the waist.
Helga was incredibly caught off guard by the look she found on his face. He seemed surprised, as would be expected upon finding their bodies together again, but at the same time those wide green eyes were suddenly scrutinizing her own blue ones…like he was trying to figure something out. And, though she already knew that he knew her secret, something about that look made her uneasy—like he was getting to a truth deeper than that…
Helga realized that she had all but stopped breathing at suddenly finding herself pressed against Arnold again. Aware that she needed to get out of this position before she collapsed entirely, Helga managed to get her feet under her and to push herself away from him. She crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively, her eyes wide and avoiding his as she stared down and to her right.
"Arnold," she started in a very calm voice, her eyes shut, "Just…just don't do something like this again. You wanna write whatever it is you wanna write about me? Fine. But no more personalized homework assignments handed in to Simmons so he can read them out loud and ruin my life: that's all I'm asking, Football Head. Just give me that and then maybe we can finally get on with our lives." She reached for the door handle, more than ready to let them both out so that they could finally be done with this last heart-to-heart conversation and so she could go home and sulk in front of her Arnold shrine, as she had done for the better part of last night.
Her hand rested on the interior handle for a moment, but before she could turn it she felt a warmth come over her slightly bruised knuckles and found Arnold's palm resting there. She looked to his face, about to tell him to just give it up already…but he wasn't making eye contact with her.
She raised an eyebrow but before she could say anything he cut her off. "That's not what you want Helga…I know that's not what you want." His voice was very level and almost listless.
Helga, never liking being told what to do, scowled and pulled her hand away quickly. "Well, you've just got it all figured out, don't you, Football Head? Mind telling me what it is I 'really want,' exactly, or has that not come to you, yet?" she replied defensively.
Arnold looked at Helga and took a step closer to her so that he was near her face again, effectively catching her off guard. "You want me to say that…" He hesitated, though… Suddenly, his eyes took on a serious scowl. He grabbed one of Helga's wrists and turned away from her and toward the door, putting his free hand on the handle. "That is it! Come on, I'm not doing this in the closet!"
He was about to push the door open when he felt Helga pull him back, a terrified look on her face. "Helga, wha—"
"SHHH!!!" she hissed, panic evident in her eyes. Just the pressure of Arnold's hand against the door had caused it to open a bit thanks to Phoebe having broken the outside handle and, thus, the lock. He watched as Helga did her best to peek out of the small crack of space and into the hallway.
Suddenly, Arnold's face fell as he finally heard what she must have heard: voices. And not Gerald and Phoebe's voices.
Helga pulled the door closed as subtly as possible so as not to attract the attention of whoever might be out there. She spun around and looked at Arnold, her eyes wide. "It's EVERYONE!" she whispered with fright.
"Everyone?!" he whispered back, still a bit in shock.
She lunged forward and grabbed him by the shirt collar with her two hands. "The whole class! ALL of them! They're out there!!!" Her voice was so high-pitched now that it was practically a squeak.
Meanwhile, out in the hallway…
"Hey, aren't you guys gonna miss the bus? It's has to be past three, already…" Gerald asked as nonchalantly as possible to the large group of students standing before him.
He cleared his throat and glanced at Phoebe. However, the young girl was still feeling a little overwhelmed by the situation, and thus didn't speak right away. He cleared his throat more loudly to get her attention. "Huh?" She blinked. "Oh, uh…yes—the buses. Certainly they must be here by now." She tried to smile at her classmates.
Rhonda raised an eyebrow at them and put her hands on her hips. "Uh, guys—it's already 3:15," she jerked her thumb in the direction of a wall clock behind them. "The three o'clock buses came and went a long time ago. We're all going to take the 3:30 ones instead. What are you two doing here, anyway?"
Gerald was feeling a little nervous, but he scowled slightly and tried his best to put her on the defensive instead. "We're just…hanging out. What are you all still doing here? You can't tell me you all missed your rides home just because of this whole crazy 'poem' thing? Seriously, didn't we all come to a truce yesterday with Helga after she helped us with the poetry homework?"
The other kids glanced down to the floor and began to guiltily mumble affirmative responses.
Gerald smiled. 'Hey, maybe this'll actually work…' He glanced at Phoebe who had a hopeful look as well.
Suddenly, Lila broke through the crowd. She appeared a little winded, almost as though she had been running after the group of kids for a while. She took a breath and spoke. "I'm ever so sure that that's what I've been trying to say to you all for the last fifteen minutes… Wouldn't it be better if we just left Arnold and Helga alone?"
It took about a second of really processing what Lila had just said for Gerald to feel the blood drain from his face.
"OH!" Lila put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.
Gerald's smile instantly disappeared. He looked at Lila and then at Phoebe (who looked equally surprised) and then at the other kids.
"Wait, what about Arnold?" Rhonda asked with confusion.
The other kids looked equally surprised. They glanced at each other, eyebrows raised, and whispering amongst themselves. Finally, Rhonda turned back to Gerald, Phoebe and Lila. "Who said anything about Arnold, Lila?"
Lila didn't speak. She couldn't believe the mistake she'd just made.
Rhonda turned back to the other kids and began to look amongst them almost like she was searching for someone. "Wasn't Arnold right behind us?"
The kids looked around.
"Boy howdy, I thought he was here…"
"I don't reckon I've seen him since before the bell rang…"
"Well, I just assumed he'd be following you guys too. Not joining in when the whole class is doing something and there's a big piece of gossip involved seems pretty uncool."
"Well, if he was, Rhonda, he's not here now…" Nadine stepped forward. "Do you want me to go back and look for him? Maybe he went to the bathroom or something?"
"Oh, Rhonda, my sweet—you're hair is just so—" Curly grabbed one of Rhonda's tresses.
"UGH!!! Curly I told you—ten foot minimum distance when we're in school!"
"Come to think of it," began Sheena slowly, not paying attention to the small altercation between Rhonda and Curly, "the last time I saw Arnold was when I was about to ask him if he knew anything about the poem, but then Helga came in and I forgot to."
Silence. Then, much to Gerald, Phoebe and Lila's horrors, a touch of realization instantly flashed into the eyes of the students before them.
Rhonda turned around. "Gerald…he didn't…" It seemed like she was trying to hold back a laugh. "…I mean, he doesn't…"
"Rhonda," Gerald started, very seriously, "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm sure he probably just went home or something because he was getting sick of you guys still going after Helga even after all that stuff this weekend. Now, come on—like you said, the late buses come at 3:30 so let's just get outside and get on them and go home."
He began to walk forward.
"You know…Arnold was pretty intent on defending Helga all this weekend…" Rhonda thought out loud to herself.
There were a few murmurs of assent.
"I mean, studying alone together in his room, making us wait around to apologize to her, sitting next to her and smiling at her all yesterday evening…" She glanced back at the crowd.
The murmurs of assent continued.
Rhonda instantly turned to a still petrified Lila, a cunning look on her face. "Lila, you seem to know something about this—what exactly IS going on with Arnold and Helga?"
"Oh, well, I…like you said, Rhonda, Arnold's been such a good friend to Helga lately that I-I'm ever so sure that I must have just said their names together without thinking. Heh, Heh…" She smiled as innocently as she could.
"Yes, Rhonda—a perfectly understandable verbal slip." Phoebe stepped forward, smiling. "Now, like Gerald said, the buses are coming back soon and the school's almost empty now, so we should probably return to our homes as well." She walked forward to where Gerald was standing, pulling a still shaky Lila with her.
Needless to say, the other kids seemed a little less than convinced.
Suddenly, Eugene spoke up with a very random question, much to everyone's surprises. "Hey, Rhonda, didn't you say the only person you saw in the bathroom when you were looking for Helga was the janitor?"
Rhonda turned to him with a look of curiosity. "Yeah…the janitor had just walked in and started cleaning. Why?"
Eugene pointed at the wooden door before them. "Well, I guess he must have forgotten to turn the light off in the janitor's closet." Rhonda looked at the frosted glass pane in the upper part of the door and blinked—the light glowed just faintly through its cloudy surface.
"Well, I guess we should turn it off for him." Eugene walked forward with a smile on his face but was stopped as Rhonda instantly held out an arm, barring the way.
"Just a minute, Eugene." She looked suspiciously to Gerald and Phoebe again. "Gerald, what exactly did you say you guys were doing here, again?"
Gerald scowled, but inside his confidence in getting them all to give up on Arnold and Helga was all but gone, and he swallowed hard. "Nothing," he responded as firmly as possible, "And I'm sure the janitor just left the light on by mistake and that the closet's probably locked anyway, so why don't we all just get something from the Jollie Ollie man and head over to Gerald Field for some practice before the whole day gets wasted standing around here coming up with crazy theories about Arnold and Helga?"
For a second, Gerald and Rhonda just stared each other down.
'Come on…come on…' Gerald thought calmly to himself, his face still firm.
"Nice try. Nadine, open the door."
"No!" Phoebe yelled, suddenly lunging forward and blocking the way.
A few seconds of silence passed as Phoebe just stood with her arms spread wide and a panicked look on her face. The other kids just stared at her in surprise, still several feet from the door.
Rhonda sighed. "Alright, whoever wants to get to the bottom of this one, follow me." She walked forward briskly, and the group of kids just shrugged at each other and slowly followed her en masse toward the door and away from Gerald, Phoebe and Lila.
Gerald instantly turned to Lila scowling. " 'Wouldn't it be better if we just left Arnold and Helga alone?' " he whispered mockingly.
"I couldn't help it!" she replied in a distressed voice. "You know, they're names do flow together just ever so well when you think about it!"
Gerald just sighed and rolled his eyes. "You know, I don't know if you're aware of this but the reason me and Phoebe are trying to keep them away from that closet is because they're both IN there!"
"Oh, I'm ever so sorry." She looked apologetically from him to Phoebe. "Oh…Helga's going to kill me!!!" She put a hand to her throat nervously, recalling that throat-wringing gesture Helga always when telling her to keep her secret or else.
Gerald rubbed his temples. "Well, come on guys, let's at least try and buy them a little more time—Maybe by some miracle they can…I don't know, hide or…or something."
Just as the other kids were lining up in front of the door, Gerald raced through them and slipped in front of it. His arms were crossed over his chest. Phoebe and Lila looked to each other and then followed slowly behind him, moving in amongst the crowd of other kids.
Gerald tried to sound as casual and smooth as possible as he spoke. "Okay, I don't know what you guys think you're going to find in here, but…" He hesitated, seemed to think for a second, and then looked back at the kids. "But if you really want to see what's inside…then…then I'll open the door. No problem." He smiled.
The other kids backed off a little at this compliant statement. Phoebe and Lila glanced at each other with concern. A second or two passed. Rhonda crossed her arms in front of her chest, tapping her foot. "Well?"
Gerald cleared his throat and grinned slightly. "Oh, you mean you wanted it open right now?" He smiled and tried to fake a chuckle.
Rhonda rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yeah, 'now' would be good."
Gerald took a deep breath and turned around to the door in question. He was a bit unsure of himself, but he did at least have some plan for trying to stall for Arnold and Helga. He recalled that, because of Phoebe's stunt with the handle, the door would open at a touch. As a result, he made the most convincing show he could of gripping said 'handle' (which, of course, was on the floor near the corner of the door and hidden thanks to the angle and how Gerald was standing) and trying to 'push' it open. It actually did give a little when he first touched it, and he instantly pulled back and hoped that no one had noticed.
He turned around and wiped some imaginary sweat from his brow. "Whew! Well, looks like it is locked—won't budge. Now, come on, let's get to those busses alrea—"
"I don't know, it looked like it gave a little--maybe it's just stuck! Hey Harold, why don't you try?" Sid suddenly turned to the larger boy.
"Yeah, you're the strongest of all of us. You could probably get it open if it's just jammed!" added Stinky.
Rhonda smiled. "Perfect!" She turned back to Gerald. "Let's let Harold try."
Gerald blinked. "Um…uh…no, you know what?" He faked a smiled again. "I actually do think I felt it budge a little when I was pushing it. Let me try one more time." He faked a laugh. "Besides, I don't wanna get shown up or anything—I mean, my good looks and natural charm can only take me so far in life without some physical strength to back them up, you know."
Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Oh, whatever--just get on with it!"
Gerald breathed a sigh of relief and pushed at the door once more. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed that it felt like something was now giving him a slight bit of resistance. 'Maybe they're trying to block it... Good, at least that means that they both know something's up out here.' He continued 'pushing' at the door: he felt it budge again (though much more slightly this time) and pulled back yet again. "Darn, almost had it that time!" He repeated the process. "OH…so close. Uh, just once more…"
10 minutes later…
"Okay, for REAL this time… I think I've got it!"
By this point the other kids were sitting together on the floor playing random games and trying not to fall asleep. Finally, though, Rhonda stood up, scowling. "Ugh, I can't take it anymore, Gerald!" She walked right over to the door and bumped Gerald slightly out of the way so that she was in front of it too. "Just let Harold do it so we can—" Rhonda stopped as she suddenly saw the door completely head on…and something small and round on the floor…and the hole where a handle should be.
She turned to Gerald, her eyes narrowed. "Gerald…there's no handle on this door, is there?"
Phoebe and Lila instantly stood up. The other kids stopped their gossip and attempts at napping, and turned to Gerald and Rhonda with raised eyebrows.
"Uh…" Gerald rubbed the back of his neck. Finally, he sighed in defeat. "You got it."
"It's broken and on the floor, isn't it?"
"Uh…yeah…that's technically true too…" He glanced down.
"So anyone should be able to just push this door open, shouldn't they?"
"Uh…" He looked at her and tried to fake a smile again. "Oh boy, are you gonna laugh when you hear the story behind this one… You see…"
Rhonda let out an angry growl and gave the door a firm shove…
Meanwhile, back in the closet…
Upon seeing that all of their classmates were indeed outside in the hallway, Helga had suddenly started pacing the closet (as best she could, at least, considering the amount of random stuff in there and the closed quarters they were dealing with). "This is it!" she began to whisper to herself hysterically. "They're going to find out! All of them are going to find out! My life is going to be over! It's over! Game over! They're going to know, and I'm going to be CRUCIFIED, and I'll never be able to show my face around here ever again! They'll destroy me, they'll eat me alive! It's all falling apart, it's all gone, gone, GO—"
"HELGA!!!" Arnold whispered loudly, suddenly grabbing her by the shoulders and scowling. "Snap out of it! It's going to be fine!"
She just continued staring at him, breathing heavily. At least her rant had stopped, though.
Arnold took a deep breath and did his best to talk to her as calmly as possible in hopes of further soothing her nerves. "Okay, Helga—listen: we're just going to go out there and explain this whole misunderstanding to them without telling them anything about your secret. Then we're going to—"
"NO!" She looked at him with terror in her eyes again. "No, Arnold, don't you get it?! They're not going to be understanding, they're not going to accept some flimsy excuse that lets me off the hook scott free, they're not going to put my feelings above a good laugh—they're not you!!! They'll eat me alive! They'll eat US alive!"
Arnold blinked. This was a level of 'scared Helga' that he had never encountered before. Certainly, he had seen her get jumpy whenever anyone got close to the truth about her feelings for him, he'd seen her lose that confident look that was always in her eyes just for a few seconds whenever someone presented her with some kind of new situation related to him that she wasn't quite sure how to handle, and he'd even seen her blush and plead and get angry whenever he tried to bring up the subject of her love for him. But this, right now, was total terror. And for the first time, Arnold genuinely understood WHY Helga didn't want to tell anybody her secret… It wasn't just because she was afraid of losing her tough reputation or because she didn't want people prying into her private life or even because she was worried that Arnold didn't love her back (a topic he had been about to bring up with her before this new development of their classmates suddenly showing up.) No—Helga was truly scared of the other kids; she was terrified of what they would do to her if they found out she loved Arnold…and (for right now, at least) she couldn't handle the drastic change in her life that would inevitably come from such a situation.
Arnold finally realized at that moment, looking into Helga's wide eyes, that, even though she always seemed confident and in control and like she was holding all the cards, there were things she needed help with too. And right now she really needed him to bring out from hiding that confident person who was always somewhere inside of her and who could do anything, and to support her and assist her, because otherwise there was no way they were getting out of this mess.
Arnold took a deep breath and looked Helga in the eyes. "Helga…they're not going to eat you alive. Or me."
"Yes they ARE, Arnold! Yes they—"
Her panicked pleas were suddenly silenced as he put a hand over her mouth and smiled at her. "No, they're not…because we're not going to let them find out anything: no matter what. Okay?"
Helga didn't try to speak, but something in her eyes told Arnold that she suddenly felt like there was even a glimmer of hope for her salvation. Arnold cleared his throat. "Good." He removed his hand from her mouth. "Now, I think we can get out of this, but I need your help, Helga." He took a few steps around the closet, his hands behind his back like he was trying to think of a plan, and then looked back at Helga with his usual half-lidded gaze. "I want to get us out of here but I'm not as good at dealing with this stuff as you are. I know I don't know all the details and that, for now, at least, you don't want me to know them, but…of the two of us, you're the one who knows how to keep this thing a secret the best. You've obviously done a lot of sneaking around and planning and a whole bunch of really creative and unimaginable stuff that I could never come up with in a million years to keep it all safe." He took a breath and closed his eyes, then opened them again, still focusing on Helga. He reached out and grabbed one of her hands. "So…I need for you to calm down so you can tell me what to do. I need the Helga Pataki who managed to spy on me for twenty four hours straight without me finding out so she could help me save the neighborhood last month; the one who convinced me that she was just taking a walk on my fire escape when I found her out there one night; the one who's been handing in poems about me to Mr. Simmons all year and having them get read aloud without getting caught once." He noticed her eyes widen at this last observation, which he had figured out on his own out only a few minutes ago in the classroom. "I need you to tell me what you need me to do, Helga, so that we can keep keeping yo—our secret." He corrected himself.
Helga just stared at him with an unreadable look, her eyes wide. The terror was definitely gone, though, and Arnold was at least thankful for that. Still, he wished she would speak so that he could be sure of whether or not his words had indeed gotten through to her. 'Please let this work… Please…' Arnold hated to admit it, but he truly had no idea how to get them out of this closet with Helga's secret intact if she couldn't come up with anything.
Suddenly, Arnold noticed that, though she continued to not move her body, Helga's eyes dropped slightly from looking into his own...almost like she was thinking of something. She bit her bottom lip. Her head suddenly turned slightly in the direction of the door and then she glanced upward for a second and then looked back at the door. She glanced up one more time and, with an index finger, seemed to be tracing something in the air. He watched as her eyes turned back downward again and then shifted in different directions a few times like she was calculating something. He noticed, just for a split second, the fear return to her eyes as the sounds of the voices outside picked up briefly. She blinked a few times, though, and managed to return to whatever thoughts she was having.
Arnold just watched in amazement—'What did I just do, exactly?' Indeed, to an extent, some of Arnold's pep talk had been a bit of a bluff—he still had no idea exactly how far Helga's efforts to keep her secret from him over the years had gone, or just how elaborate any plans or ruses she might have perpetuated might have been, except of course for the Deep Voice one (which had been pretty impressive, to say the least.) Still, somehow he was confident that she could do this: he believed in her.
Finally, Helga closed her eyes and took a deep breath, like she was centering herself in preparation for something. She opened her eyes and looked to Arnold. "Okay," she whispered, "I've got a plan. But you need to do EVERYTHING I say!" She put a hand to one of her temples and briefly shut her eyes. " And please just DON'T ask where I learned to do it from… not now, at least…"
Arnold nodded, a serious expression on his face.
Helga took another deep breath and smiled. "Good." She swallowed and briefly surveyed the random assortment of buckets and boxes and cleaning items around them. "Okay, we need to stack all this junk up as high as we can in a pile so that it reaches as close to the ceiling as possible."
Helga started grabbing some things and putting and pushing them together quickly and quietly. Arnold followed her example.
"AH!" Helga screamed just slightly as she heard the sound of something pushing against the closet door.
Arnold grabbed a few mops and brooms and quickly placed them across the door, propping them diagonally between the wall and the floor and making sure they at least somewhat secured the area around the broken handle. He turned back to Helga who was on top of the half-done pile and smiled, giving her a thumbs up.
Helga let out a very relieved sigh. She climbed down the pile and grabbed another bucket to put on it. She hesitated for a second, he noticed, and then she also grabbed a piece of rope hanging on a hook on the wall and put it over her right shoulder before ascending again. Arnold glanced around and grabbed a large box of detergent to stack on the top, then climbed up along with her.
A few more items (and a few more slightly terrifying pushes at the door) later, and Arnold and Helga found themselves breathing heavily beside a pile of assorted objects that reached about six feet off the floor (less than three feet from the ceiling).
Arnold looked to Helga, smiling and actually enjoying this sudden random adventure he was finding them in the middle of. "So…what do we do now?" he asked her.
Helga took a second to catch her breath, then put a hand on her hip. "Well, we climb it and do something that, ironically enough, I swore about twenty minutes ago I was never going to do again under any circumstances."
Arnold raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm listening…"
Helga sighed, and he could see a slight blush come to her cheeks. "We go through the air vents…" There was definitely a bit of uncertainty in the way she said this next part of the plan. Yet, her tone, Arnold noticed, didn't make it sound like she was doubting the plan's effectiveness so much as she wasn't sure what Arnold was going to think about this whole thing.
Though Arnold had been having some fun with making the pile, he couldn't help but raise a skeptical eyebrow at this announcement. He did a quick up-and-down look at the rickety conglomeration of cleaning supplies and bric-a-brac that was supposed to take them up to the ceiling. He turned back to Helga. "Um, Helga…are you sure that's safe?"
Helga waved off his concern with an open palm. "Trust me, Arnold—I've done this before. The hardest part is just figuring out where you're going, and trying to avoid spiders. Or worse, rats." Helga shivered just slightly. She shook her head to clear it and continued. "But once we're up there we can get to another part of the school and then get the heck out of this nightmare before anyone sees us together. Piece of cake."
Arnold took a deep breath and then gave her a confident smile. "Okay…let's do this." He was about to start climbing up the pile when, suddenly, he felt Helga's hand grabbing his arm. He turned back to her, an eyebrow raised.
He noticed the blush in her cheeks darken slightly. She let him go and cleared her throat, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Um…before we 'do this' there's just two things, Arnold…" She cleared her throat and tried to resume her usual commanding look, but to little avail. "First, you should probably let me lead the way—I've done this before and, anyway, I've already been up there once today so at least there's a chance I won't drop us into one of the detention class rooms or Wartz' office or an after school assembly or something."
Arnold nodded in agreement. "Okay, Helga. That makes sense." He smiled a half lidded gaze and gestured forward to the pile before them, similar to how he had gestured for her to go first down the stairs to lunch at the Boarding House on Saturday afternoon, which seemed like it was a lifetime away now.
He noticed, with a bit of confusion, that she wasn't moving forward, but, rather, glancing away from him almost shyly. Suddenly, he recalled that she had mentioned a second thing she had to tell him. He straightened up and cleared his throat. "What's the other thing, Helga?" he asked her in a kind voice.
She took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say…thank you, Arnold…" Suddenly, there was a noticeably strong push at the door and she gasped and turned wide-eyed to look at it. She remained frozen staring at it only for a second though, and then shook her head back and forth several times to clear it and focused on Arnold again. "And, I-I want to apologize in advance for what I'm about to do…especially if they get that door open in the next ten seconds…but—" There was another firm push and Arnold noticed just a touch of the fear come back. She blinked, though, and he saw with interest the normal Helga G. Pataki determination suddenly return in full force to her face. She looked him in the eyes. "Oh, to heck with all of them—if I don't do it now I'm going to explode!"
Suddenly, she lunged forward, wrapped her arms almost violently around his body and, with what actually sounded to Arnold like a very faint squeal of delight, she pressed her lips against his and kissed him. Kissed him, Arnold noticed, not exactly as intensely as she had done on the FTi building, but with an emotion that she had definitely been lacking when she had pressed her mouth against his in order to steal back her poem the other evening.
Arnold, shocked, just blinked a few times as she continued kissing him. Interestingly enough, he found himself thinking of the conversation he'd had with his grandfather the previous evening during which he had admitted that he hadn't not liked kissing Helga. Now, suddenly, with a few seconds to really analyze exactly how kissing her made him feel, he found himself puckering his lips back at her just slightly, just to make as good and strong a memory as he could of this moment so that he could get a clearer hold on his feelings when he thought about them later on.
The slight reciprocation was not lost on Helga, who suddenly opened her eyes wide in surprise. Suddenly, though, a solid push at the door dislodged several of the brooms and mops that were barring it, and Helga instantly broke away from Arnold and remembered that they needed to get out of there--NOW!!!
Helga just looked at him, breathing heavily for a second or two. "That…" she took a few more breaths, "was because all that stuff you just said to help me was the most wonderful thing you or anyone else has ever done for me, Arnold. Ever. Even more wonderful than the poem, my lovely little..." She took another breath to calm herself down and did her best to stop the monologuing that wanted so desperately to start. She straightened up and cleared her throat, and then, with a determined look, commenced climbing the pile. Halfway there, she looked down at Arnold with a scowl and added, "But I am still really mad at you about that poem and all this mess, Football Head. Don't think for a minute that we're square about that, yet, or anything! Now, come on—we've gotta get the heck out of here while I still half-believe we can actually pull this off!" She continued her ascent.
Arnold, meanwhile, had just been staring at her as she had climbed up and addressed him, breathing slightly heavily, himself. At the sight of her finally continuing to make her way to the top, though, he shook his head and began to climb as well. 'Well,' he thought to himself as he made his way up, 'I'll say this for her—I may be a 'lousy kisser,' he recalled her words from yesterday afternoon during her first departure from the Boarding House, 'but if she's making me this out of breath when I don't even think I love her, then she sure isn't.'
Meanwhile, out in the hallway (again)...
"Hey! What's behind this door, exactly, anyway?" Rhonda's push had caused the door to give slightly, but it hadn't swung open like it should have considering the handle situation. She scratched her head. "Can one of you guys hel—"
"Oh, Rhonda, my sweet! Allow your strong Curly to assist you!" Curly suddenly ran straight for the door, plowing through the other students.
Rhonda's eyes opened wide. "Ugh, CURLY, don't—" She was in the middle of turning around to look at him when he slammed into the door and her, knocking them both into it and knocking the door wide open…
Meanwhile, in the closet...
Helga, standing atop the assortment of buckets, boxes and other items with the coil of rope still over her shoulder, clung onto the open air vent grate that had been hanging down ever since she had fallen from it into the closet several minutes ago. She climbed up it and managed to pull herself into the ducts. She caught her breath and noticed with another small yelp that the last few of the brooms and mops were falling away from the closet door as someone again tried to enter it.
She looked to Arnold desperately and held out her hand. "Come on, Football Head," she whispered as loudly as possible, "grab on and I'll pull you up!" Arnold reached up and Helga did indeed heave him into the air vent, though it was a little squished having two fourth graders in there instead of the usual one. Making sure that Arnold was indeed safely inside the vent with her, Helga reached one of her feet back down into the closet and did her best to kick at the top of the pile of items they had used to climb up. It swayed unsteadily for a second or two and then, much to Helga's relief, collapsed just as she saw the light from the hallway flood the closet below them. She pulled up her leg and closed the grate quickly, her action obviously going unnoticed in all of the confusion.
"Alright, come on, Arnold—Let's go!" Helga wasn't whispering anymore—they were safe now and, besides, there was so much noise below that there was no way anyone could hear them. She commenced crawling to the left and Arnold followed behind her. As they went along, the two students hit a few turns and splits in the air vent system, but Arnold just followed dutifully as Helga led the way.
"Helga, why did you kick down the pile back there? What if we can't find another way out of here and had to use it to get down later?"
Helga sighed. "Arnold, Arnold, Arnold—if they open the door and there's a random assortment of junk all over the floor, they'll just see it as a normal janitor's closet and not think twice about it. If you leave the pile there, though, then it's going to look pretty suspicious to anyone with half a brain, and the last thing I need is one of those chuckleheads surprising me and putting together that someone was in there and that they snuck up into the air vents."
Arnold blinked, surprised at just how knowledgeable she was about this whole thing. "Hmm…I guess you're right…" he replied with a smile.
To be honest, even though Arnold knew that he should probably be terrified and even a little freaked about by what he was suddenly doing with Helga, he found himself strangely happy and even enjoying himself. He knew Helga had been through a lot over the years trying to keep things under control on the 'knowing' side of her love for him, but there also seemed to be a lot of fun involved in it all as well. 'Is this what I've been missing out on for seven years?'
As they continued moving through the dark vents in silence with Helga occasionally making an exclamation of frustration as she caught her jumper on something or crawled right into a bunch of dust bunnies, Arnold couldn't help but grow more and more curious about her…
"Helga?" he finally got up the courage to call out after a minute or two had passed in their little journey through the air vents of P.S. 118.
Helga coughed to clear some dust from her throat. "What's up, head boy? Going too fast for you?" she asked in her usual voice with her usual tinge of sarcasm.
Arnold ducked to avoid a spider web, and responded with a bit of trepidation, "No…I was just wondering…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I know you said I shouldn't ask you where you learned how to do all this from but…" he coughed and cleared his throat, smiling, "…but one day I really wish you'd tell me. I mean, what's the weirdest thing you'd say—" he asked with genuine innocence, recalling once more the thing with his window and Curly getting out from behind his couch, "that you actually did learn how to do it by sneaking around the Boarding House, or something?"
Arnold slammed right into Helga who had stopped cold at this sentence. He righted himself again and rubbed his head, then looked at her, trying to see her face even though she was still facing away from him. He noticed her take a few quick breaths before she managed to respond in a noticeably high-pitched voice, "Um…why don't we go left up here. Yeah, that'll probably take us somewhere good. Come on, Football Head, let's get moving."
"Helga?" Arnold raised an eyebrow and couldn't help the half grin coming to his face at her obviously guilty reaction.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, Arnold, what part of 'no questions' don't you get? Now, come on—let's GO!"
Arnold didn't exactly know why but, for some reason, Helga's implied confirmation of his guess that she had indeed been in the Boarding House a few times without his knowledge and had indeed used the air vents, among other things, to do so wasn't really making him uncomfortable. Perhaps it was a combination of all the new experiences he had had with her this weekend and the fact that his adrenaline rush was still going pretty strong from their near escape, but, actually, he couldn't help suddenly bursting into warm laughter as they crawled on.
He heard Helga sigh in exasperation as she led on. "Great, just great. I confess and, after a four week delayed reaction, you suddenly start putting all the pieces together in hyper drive. On top of which, now it looks like I'm getting as bad at lying to you as you are at lying to everyone else. And to make it even better, now you obviously realize that I am the WEIRDEST person on the planet! Just fantastic, Helga—just terrific! Maybe I should have just let them open that door and find us in there—the final nail in the coffin, and then at least the only place everything could have gone would have been up."
Arnold was still laughing, though he was seriously trying to get it under control so that he wouldn't hurt Helga's feelings. He cleared his throat. "I-I'm sorry, Helga," he began, grinning, "but I don't think you're weird. To be honest," he brushed some more dust bunnies away, still grinning, "I think you're the bravest person I know."
He heard Helga sigh and could just make out her dragging a hand down her face as they plowed on. "Arnold, did those cleaner fumes clog your brain or something? I just ran in terror from half-a-dozen ten-year-olds because I was afraid they were going to laugh at me, and you think I'm brave?"
Suddenly, they reached a section of the ventilation system that fanned out as it spread in several directions. Helga took a seat, panting quite a bit, to catch her breath and get her bearings.
Arnold sat down to collect himself, as well. He looked at Helga, who was covered in dust and cobwebs just like he realized he must be right now, and smiled. "I think it's brave that you'd care so much about someone that you'd risk the thing you're afraid of most just to help them or be near them. That's pretty special, Helga. I've cared about a lot of people before, but I've never done anything like that for any of them." He looked at her with that half-lidded gaze and couldn't help his grin widening just slightly at that familiar embarrassed look on her face: she was blushing considerably and looking at him with wide, uncertain eyes.
He did his best not to chuckle, and just shook his head as he got back on all fours again. "Come on, I'll lead--you've been having to clear away most of the dust and stuff, so let me do it for a while. Anyway, where I bring us is probably going to be as good as where you might bring us as long as it's away from that closet." He couldn't help but laugh aloud slightly as he picked a direction and crawled forward a bit. "Besides, this isn't the Boarding House ventilation system so it's not like you're an expert at navigating it, yet, or anything." He glanced at her with a smug look and winked before resuming his forward motion.
Helga dragged a hand down her face, feeling her cheeks go hot with blushing. Slowly, she got back on her hands and knees again as well, and began to follow behind Arnold. "You know…just for the record, it's not like I crawl through your house every waking second that I have free, or anything. I DO have a life outside of you, you know. I-I've only been through the vents there two, three, maybe four times at most, and those were all serious secret-keeping emergencies." Helga knew the humiliation damage had already been dealt, but she wanted to try and preserve at least some of her dignity.
She heard Arnold laugh to himself again as he continued on ahead of her. "Well, next time you're in there, pop out from the ceiling or something and say 'hi'—I told you, yesterday, that I wanted to spend time with you…as long as that's what you want, of course…" he added delicately, which made Helga raise an eyebrow. "As long as you're in my house and I know your secret anyway," he continued in his former tone, after a second, "you might as well take a break to listen to some music and have some lunch again. And maybe you could tell me about some of those 'secret-keeping emergencies,' too." Helga went completely silent, unbelieving everything he was saying to her, and Arnold couldn't help occasionally laughing to himself as they continued to make their way through the school.
Finally, Arnold heard Helga sigh once more behind him. As she spoke, though, he had to raise an eyebrow in surprise—despite the drama in her tone it almost sounded like she was trying to hold back just a little bit of…laughter? "I just cannot believe that I'm actually on an 'Arnold-adventure' with Arnold. I mean, I've been convinced at least fifty times over the last three days that things in my life could not be more insane but something new just keeps coming along and proving me wrong. I really think this is hands down the craziest thing, though—me pulling off one of my schemes with you leading the way. You know, in theory, the need for me to be doing stuff like this should have ended when I confessed." He actually heard a slight chuckle escape her mouth. She sighed. "Football Head, you're never gonna quit driving me nuts no matter how much I try avoid this whole 'love' thing, are you?"
Arnold smiled at the rhetorical question and tried hard not to laugh. He turned to look back at her again. "Oh, come on, Helga--even if this weekend has been a little crazy, you have to admit it's also been a lot of fun."
Helga shook her head. "Hey, I'm not passing judgment until I find out whether we actually pull this last stunt off or not. I'll start celebrating when I'm at my house, in my bed with a cold Yahoo soda and a couple of locked doors between me and the rest of the world. Believe me, Football Head, you start taking for granted that you're in the clear with stuff like this and then BAMN—Next thing you know, you're in a campfire lass sash rolling out into the middle of a—"
Helga stopped herself, eyes wide. 'Crimeny, Helga—what are you doing?! You kiss him and he says some cute things to you to be nice, and suddenly you're gushing about every embarrassing moment in your life like it's small talk? He already found out about how you got the lead in the school play, that all those poems Simmons reads in class are love poems by you, and that you've been in his house without his permission more than once. Why are you giving up more details?!?! I mean, you might as well drop the both of you back down into the hallway right now, pledge your love to him in front of everyone within earshot and then lead them all to your house for a free tour of your Arnold shrine!'
Meanwhile, Arnold had noticed her sudden hesitation and turned his head back slightly to look at her. "What was that, Helga?"
"Hmm? Oh, nothing, nothing…uh…" She tried to resume her usual attitude. "Look, Arnold, I'm glad I could clear some stuff up for you and that you're taking all this INCREDIBLY well, but can we stop 'deconstructing Helga' for a little while? It's starting to get on my nerves."
Arnold sighed and smiled, facing forward again. "Okay, no more 'secret' stuff, if that's what you really want, Helga."
Helga blinked. "Really?" she replied, unsurely. He sounded sincere, but this wouldn't be the first time Arnold had said he'd drop the topic of her confession only to find a way to continue pursuing it later. Still, he'd been so cooperative about the 'closet escape' thing that maybe he was actually serious. "Uh, thanks, Football Head," she added appreciatively.
Arnold hesitated, but then added, still smiling. "You know, Helga, we don't have to talk about this anymore right now, but I don't think you really mind talking to me about how you feel. In fact, I think you actually kind of like it even if it embarrasses you sometimes." Arnold blew at a cobweb to clear it away and then moved onward.
Helga rolled her eyes. 'Oh brother—I knew him just letting it go like that without trying to show me some kind of 'truth' about myself was too good to be true.' "No, I don't, Arnold." She responded very firmly, with a scowl.
"I think you do…" he replied, just a little playfully.
"No, Arnold. Sadly, you are incorrect… It continues to somehow end up being the most horrible and humiliating experience of my life every single time," she replied stubbornly.
"Then why do you always act so much less angry and…I don't know, sweeter every time you talk to me about it?" Arnold was a little busy clearing away a big collection of dust, and wasn't really focusing too much on the question as he asked it.
He heard the sounds of Helga's crawling stop, and did his best to angle his head back around to see what the problem was. He smiled as he saw her stopped there, her eyes wide and blushing once again. "That's what I'm talking about, Helga—you get really quiet and nervous when you talk to me about it, and your voice sounds…well, I don't know, it just sounds nicer. I mean, it's kind of fun when you yell at me sometimes, too, but I think you must like the chance to act like the sweet and sensitive person that's deep down inside of you, just like you were being on the roof of the FTi building after you told me everything."
A second of silence passed. "Arnold…" Helga cleared her throat and refused to make eye contact with him. Her face still looked just like how he had just described her. "Can…can you stop for a little while…please?."
He raised an eyebrow. "You want to take another break?" he asked, referring to their current trek through the ceiling of P.S. 118.
Helga blushed furiously. "No…I-I mean… Can you stop saying things like that about me…for now."
"What things?" Arnold asked, genuinely unsure to what she was specifically referring.
"About how I…" she played with one of her pigtails, "…about how my voice sounds nice and…how you even like it when I yell and…and how I-I can be…s-sw-sw—"
"Sweet?" Arnold offered.
She swallowed hard. "Yeah, that…"
He could tell she was really nervous. He smiled warmly at her. "Okay, Helga. You're right—I said I'd stop and I should. I'm sorry if it embarrassed you or anything. But…well, it is the truth, you know."
Helga took a deep breath and tried her best to scowl at Arnold. "Look, Arnold, you're the one who gave me that pep talk before about how you needed me to be my normal 'crafty and sneaky' self so that I could come up with something that could get both of us out of this mess. But…but when you keep saying all that stuff, I—well, it's just that I can't come up with what we should be doing next or the step after that or the step after that because you're—" She glanced away again in embarrassment at what she was about to admit. "When you're really nice to me and compliment me and smile..." a dreamy smile threatened to come to her face at these thoughts, but she stopped it and sighed. Finally, she managed to spit out the point she had been building up to: "When you do all that stuff—I can't exactly think straight, okay!" She glanced back at him warily, unsure of how he might respond to this confession. "That's…kind of why I did that thing back in the closet…the kiss thing…to relieve some of the tension, clear my head…you know?" She was avoiding eye contact again.
Arnold blushed warmly. He swallowed hard and felt his stomach twist. "Oh...yeah…" He cleared his throat and glanced back at her. "Sorry, Helga."
Helga took a deep breath and her usual face and scowl were back. "Don't worry about it, Football Head: nothing you haven't put me through before." She rolled her eyes and then resumed the ready position. "Now, come on," she gestured with her head to the end of the tunnel in which they were currently crawling, "I can see some light shining up from down there—maybe it's a place where we can finally get out. This place is starting to give me the creeps, anyway, and besides, I'm starving!" Helga's absence from class this morning had been mostly due to the fact that she'd basically spent the entire day in bed trying to regain her energy after her weekend's worth of ordeals with Arnold, even turning down another one of Olga's gourmet breakfasts for the chance to just rest in the solitude of her room and avoid the inevitability of seeing Arnold again when she finally did get up to go to school.
Arnold took a deep breath and turned facing forward again. "Okay, let's…" He didn't finish his sentence.
Helga raised an eyebrow at the strange tone in his voice and at the fact that he wasn't budging an inch.
"Arnold…are you okay…?" Helga asked in a genuinely concerned tone.
"Helga…just…just back up slowly to where we made that last turn, okay…" he replied slowly and with a definite nervous edge in his voice.
"Arnold, what's going on?" asked Helga, really worried by this point.
She heard him take a breath. "I don't think I should tell you… Just, go backwards. Please."
Helga gave an exasperated sigh and crawled forward so that she could look over his shoulder and see what the problem was. "Arnold, I swear, if this is because of some stupid spider or something, I'll squash it myself because I am really in NO moo—" Helga's breath caught in her throat and her eyes went wide as she saw what Arnold was looking at.
"Rat." She managed to choke out in a cracked whisper. Instinctually, she gripped one of Arnold's hands with one of her own.
Arnold glanced at her, feeling the warmth of her palm resting against the back of his hand which was currently flat against the metal bottom of the vent to keep himself balanced. He was a little scared, to say the least, about the small, dark, yellow-eyed creature crawling around not more than five feet away from them, but he knew Helga was absolutely terrified of rats. Maybe even more so than she was of the other kids right now.
"Helga…" He picked up his other hand and laid it atop the one of hers that was currently atop his other one. "Don't panic," he whispered into her ear.
The rat turned slightly in their direction and he heard a sharp intake of breath from Helga.
"We're just going to crawl backwards and try a different tunnel. Then we're going to get out of here and we'll…we'll get ice cream at Slausen's or something. And you'll never have to see another rat again. It'll be fine, Helga." He slowly tried to inch his way back, removing his second hand and using the one that she was so fiercely gripping to push her along backwards.
Slowly, he managed to get them back down the tunnel little by little. 'Okay, this is going to work out fine. Just a little bit more…just a little bit more…' He glanced to Helga with concern, but her eyes were focused on the rat, unblinking.
Arnold glanced behind them and, with a sigh of relief, saw the corner they had turned in order to get to this segment of the vents slowly getting nearer and nearer. He glanced at the girl alongside him, though she was still staring at the rat in front of them, unblinking. "We're almost there, Helga," he whispered reassuringly to her.
Squeak!
Helga was still too focused on the sight of the small creature in front of her to have enough awareness to realize that this particular animal squeak, though indeed from a rat, had not come from the creature in front of them but from something behind them…
The case was different, however, for Arnold. His eyes widened and his head whipped around. Just beyond Helga he could make out in the dim light filtering through from the hallways and rooms below two more rats slowly approaching them.
He froze, and that made Helga freeze. She had noticed the movement of his head out of the corner of her eye and slowly, fearfully looked back as well…
"AHHHH!!!" Helga screamed at the top of her lungs. She glanced back and forth from the obstacle behind them to the obstacle in front of them. Utterly panicking, she tried to do what she normally did in situations when something frightened her and she was near Arnold, which was jumping into his arms. The two of them being in an air vent at the moment, this action didn't work as well as it usually did. There was the sound of metal creaking and shifting, and then chaos ensued.
A/N:
Okay, that's all for right now! I hope you guys like how this is playing out :) And Arnold and Helga's adventure is far from over—they're going to be spending a lot more time together this afternoon figuring some things out and trying work out this mess with Arnold's poem… And then, of course, there are the epilogues ;) Like I said, I'll try and get the next update up within a couple of days followed by both epilogues at once. So, please review and stay tuned!!!
Thanks guys, and Happy Reading!!!
AXH FOREVER!!!
~Azure129 aka Jenna
