Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.

They all belong to their rightful owner: Craig Bartlett.

Title: "Blackmail toy"

In the last chapter of "Blackmail toy": To the amusement of both blondes, Helga and Arnold managed to trick his grandpa and dad into believing they got what they wanted. Even if Arnold later found out that him and Helga having sex wasn't the actual goal.

When Helga finally got home, she made a pros and cons list about which option she would choose. Read a poem to the class, or give Arnold a secret admirer poem? She ended up choosing the ladder, and copied one of her older poems to give it to Arnold the next day.

Arnold was at first angry at his family for making a stunt like that, until he realized it his and Helga's own minds that had made the wrong conclusion, and ended up apologizing. He simply went to bed after that and the boarders didn't see him until the next day. Monday. A new week, a new blackmail and a new turn of events.

Author's 1st note: Yes! It's time to get all the fluff out of the way! It's been a fun run with the sappy things (which we of course all love xD) but let's get back to the blackmailing again, shall we? It shouldn't be too easy for Arnold and Helga anymore :P

Chapter 21: "Why is everything always so complicated with you?"

Helga was definitely not a morning person. It was hard enough to get up and out of bed at regular time, but doing it a half hour earlier after that kind of weekend, then she was ready to kill someone. Thank goodness, that none of her parents were up. Miriam was snoring in the bedroom, and Bob had already left for that business trip he mentioned.

Helga was on her way out of the door. "I'm going to school!" she yelled, though she knew there would be no answer. She slammed the door behind her and walked to school in an obvious cranky way.

When she reached the school, she was surprised to see that she wasn't the only early bird. She didn't know any of those geeks, who was already at school, but them sitting with their nose stuck in their books, was a clear sign what kind of students they were. She shrugged. What did she care if they were here early?

Helga walked through the hallways, until she reached Arnold's locker. She eyed it for a second, and then looked casually around. She then walked to it, took the poem out of the pocket and shoved it in. Afterwards she walked away with long steps, turned around a corner and fell to the ground. She grabbed her head in horror. "What did I just do?!"

"Helga…? You're here awfully early."

Helga dared to look up at the familiar voice and smiled a bit, when she saw Phoebe's friendly face. "Hey there, Phoebs. How's it going?" she asked. Phoebe cocked her head to the side, feeling a little odd at having a question like that asked from Helga. "Well, I'm doing just fine, Helga, thank you… How are you doing?"

Helga's face crumbled and she whimpered a bit. "Not so good…" she answered with obvious panic in her small voice. "What's going on?" Phoebe asked and sat down next to her on the ground. "Did… something bad happen?"

"Uh-huh."

"What kind of… bad?"

"'Having my secret exposed'-bad…"

"Oh, dear… but… isn't that a good thing?" Phoebe asked gently. Helga removed her face from her arms and gave a pensive look. "In a way, I guess so… I mean… I do feel like I'm getting closer to Arnold every day. It's just… old habits die hard, I guess."

Phoebe put a comforting arm over Helga's shoulders and started rubbing her arm. "It'll be all right, Helga. I am almost certain that Arnold feels the same way about you." She said reassuringly. Helga sighed happily and let her head plop down on her shoulder. "Thanks, Phoebs… I'm just… panicking again. It's in my nature."

"That's all right, Helga… but could you tell me what's going on? Also, what happened between you two after he brought you home?"

"Uh… Oh, uh…" Helga chuckled in an embarrassed way and removed her head from Phoebe's shoulder. "It's a long story, but… I'll try to make it short, ok?"

"All right."

"Ok, uh… Arnold kinda accidentally fell asleep next to me."

"What! So… no, wait, I'm sorry. Shutting up."

"So you can imagine the stroke I had, when I woke up and he was lying next to me… He even held my hand! He told me, he tried to check if my breathing was all right. You know, since I had been drinking a lot, and that he probably had moved his hand to mind during his sleep, but whatever, he still held my hand!" Helga said cheerfully.

Phoebe smiled at Helga's enthusiasm. "That must have been nice?"

"Of course it was, but that's not all! We spend most of the morning and some of the afternoon together. I was walking him home and then the boarders wanted me to join for lunch, so I did. Apparently, his grandma had made it into a Spanish theme, so she suddenly pulled me up from my chair and danced with me! Arnold caught in, swept me off my feet and… oh, Phoebe, we danced together. The tango even! He's such an amazing dancer…"

"You did the tango?" Phoebe asked in happiness. Helga nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Twice even! Though, I prefer the first one."

"Why?"

"Well… Aaron came home and… decided to go all competitive against Arnold. Apparently, his mom has taught him the tango since before he was born or something. I guess he's technically better, but… I still prefer Arnold. You know, for obvious reasons."

"Obviously. So, what happened then?"

"Well… the three of us kinda tangoed together. They kept pulling me back and forth between each other. I was a little pissed, but I didn't really mind, because… oh, Phoebe! Arnold looked so jealous. He hated that I was dancing with Aaron. I really, truly think he might like me." Helga said with a big smile.

Phoebe was practically beaming at this point. She took Helga's hands in her own and squeezed them tight. "You mean… you think you might be ready to confess?" she asked hopefully. Helga bit at her lower lip and dared to look across the hallway at Arnold's locker. "I… did give him a poem in his locker…"

"A poem?!" Phoebe repeated with big eyes. Helga nodded, while keeping on biting on her lower lip. She started getting nervous again. "Well, did you sign it?" Phoebe asked. "N-Not really…" Helga answered. "I wrote 'from your secret admirer'… I didn't have the guts to write my own name."

"Oh… well, that's a start! Maybe if you keep giving him poems, he'll realize it's you. Maybe he'll even hope it's you." Phoebe encouraged, knowing all too well that Arnold indeed would wish it was Helga writing him poems.

"Oh, dear!" Helga shrieked, pulled her hands away from Phoebe's and put them on her cheeks in a mix of horror and giddiness. "I don't know what to do, Phoebs!"

"You can't do anything, Helga, just… be honest if Arnold asks if you're the one who wrote the poem. You've already taken the step. You'd better go all the way now."

"Oh, God! I wanna rip that locker open and take the poem back!" Helga said, now completely panicking and stood up. "No, Helga! You finally did something! Don't ruin it!" Phoebe begged and stood up herself. Helga was about to turn the corner, when Phoebe grabbed her around her waist. "Let go, Phoebe!"

"No! Helga! This is huge, yes! This is scary, yes! But it's something you have to do! You want to be in love with Arnold forever without ever knowing how he feels?"

"Yes! I'd rather live my whole life, never knowing and able to believe that he might have loved me, than hearing him say that he doesn't love me back! Let me keep my illusion!"

"Whoa! Phil and Miles actually did that?!" Gerald's voice asked, booming through the hallway. Both girls froze on the spot and looked towards the voice. As expected, Gerald and Arnold were walking together towards their lockers. Phoebe pulled Helga back around the corner to hide.

"Yeah, it was the most awkward thing ever. I've never been more embarrassed in my life. Helga must think they're all completely insane." Arnold answered, laughing a little. "And how is that not true?" Gerald asked, earning an elbow to his ribs from Arnold. "Of course they are, but I don't want her to know that."

Helga was staring straight ahead, not daring even to turn to sneak a peek at Arnold and Gerald. Phoebe on the other hand, now changed positions with Helga, so that she herself could look around the corner.

Arnold and Gerald reached their lockers and opened it simultaneously. "Sounds like you had a very nice day though?" Gerald asked and opened his locker. Arnold smiled. "Yeah… Helga's fun to be around." He answered and opened his own locker.

Phoebe turned to look at Helga. She had a very faint smile on her face, but the panic and fear was still very much there. She turned around to look at Arnold and Gerald again. She noticed the small piece of paper, folded neatly close to Arnold's foot. He hadn't noticed it yet.

"You dropped something, Arnold." Gerald said nonchalantly, after noticing the paper between them. "Huh?" Arnold muttered and looked down. He sat down for a second, took the paper in his hand and looked at it curiously. "This isn't mine… What is this?"

"What do you mean: 'not yours'? It was in your locker. It even has your name on it." Gerald said and looked at the paper with huge interest. "Yeah, it really does… but I didn't write this." Arnold muttered and turned it around to see if someone else's name was on it. Nothing.

"Oh, God." Gerald walked in front of Arnold, gaining his attention. "You think Helga send this?" he suggested. "Huh?" Arnold mumbled, already feeling his heartbeat quicken. "I can't listen to this!" Helga whispered in a panic, covered her ears and ran down the hall. "Helga!" Phoebe called, but shut her mouth immediately. Well, Gerald can tell me about this later. She thought to herself and followed the blonde girl.

"But… But wouldn't Helga just… you know… call or text me?" Arnold asked and eyed the paper in his hand. "Maybe she's trying to play mysterious or something?" Gerald suggested with a big grin. Maybe… Arnold thought with a slight smirk. "Well, open it!"

Arnold quickly unfolded the paper and read it inside his head. Gerald watched with curiosity as Arnold's eyes got bigger and bigger, and a very deep blush appeared on his cheeks. "What is it? Give me!" he said and stole the paper out of Arnold's hand.

Gerald quickly scanned the paper, not noticing how much deeper Arnold's blush got. "Oh, man! This is definitely not Helga." Gerald said with a big grin and handed Arnold the paper again. "Huh? Why do you say that?" he asked and looked at the words again.

Arnold, you idiot,
I've always sworn it.
I've always loved you.
My darling, my darling.
Kiss me, my darling.
Oh, so shamed, my Prometheus,
Wandering the dismal deserts of my tormented soul.

Love, your secret admirer.

"Well, the 'idiot' part is very Helga, but that's just about it." Gerald answered and started laughing. Arnold snickered for a bit, but didn't take his eyes of the note. "You even think Helga would know about Prometheus?"

"I don't even know what a Prometheus is." Arnold answered with a quirked eyebrow. "Not a Prometheus. It's a person. Some Greek God, I think." Gerald answered and looked at the paper again. "This is basically a love confession… So, what are you gonna do?"

"What do you mean: 'what am I gonna do'? Nothing. This is obviously not from Helga, so I'm not interested." Arnold asked and shoved the note into his pocket. "Aren't you at all curious?" Gerald asked. "If it was you who got this note, would you?" Arnold asked.

"Hell yeah! I'd tell the girl I was taken, but I'd still be curious."

"I guess I am a little curious…"

"See?"

"But it doesn't matter. I'm not gonna start chasing some girl, who obviously don't want me to know who she is. If she comes to me herself, then I'll listen to her, but if not… then this is it." Arnold explained, grabbed his books, closed his locker and started walking.

"Man, you're a goner for Helga, aren't you?" Gerald asked with a smirk, grabbed his own books, closed his own locker and followed him. Arnold glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. "And what a girl to be gone about."

"Man, you are smitten!" Gerald shouted happily and pulled Arnold under his arm. "Hey!" he exclaimed and laughed along with his best friend. "Cut it out! Let me go!" Arnold begged and snuck his way out of Gerald's grip. They laughed for a bit, while Arnold tried to brush his hair with his fingers.

"Don't you have any clues to who the girl must be though?" Gerald asked. Arnold shrugged. "Not really… Though, now that you're mentioning it…" he answered thoughtfully and cocked his head to the side.

"Who?" Gerald asked. "… Remember that little pink book we found in fourth grade with poems about me in it?" Arnold asked. "Of course! That was insane! That chick must have been… Wait. You think it's the same girl?" Gerald asked. Arnold rocked his head from side to side, as if saying 'it's possible'. "It does sound like the same style, right?"

"Yeah, the same kind of crazy." Gerald answered and snickered. Arnold punched his arm lightly. "Why is a girl crazy for liking me?" he asked. "Oh, she's not crazy for liking you. She's crazy for telling you through a poem. You think she sits in her room all day, writing poems about whatever you do?" Gerald asked. "I doubt that." Arnold answered with a smile.

"Hey… where's Aaron anyway?" Gerald asked, suddenly remembering him not walking with Arnold that morning. "Oh! Uh…" Arnold muttered and started scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "He mentioned something about getting here earlier or something… He's been acting a little off since yesterday."

Gerald snorted. "Maybe he's sulking because Helga's obviously interested in you and not him?" He suggested with a big smirk. Arnold didn't seem to find it funny though. "Don't tell me you're starting to feel bad for him?" he asked.

"Well… He is my cousin, Gerald, and I still don't know why or how he's interested in her. He seems really… distant."

"You gotta stop worrying about everyone else. Hey, it's not like it's your fault Helga's not interested, right? Who says she would be, even if you weren't here?"

"I guess that's true… I just wish I knew what they talked about. They're being so secretive together sometimes."

"Still? Maybe he's just trying to hit on her, while you're not around?" Gerald suggested thoughtfully. "That could be it…" Arnold answered with a frown and walked into the classroom.

"Calm down, Helga, it'll be fine." The boys heard Phoebe's voice say. They turned to look, and noticed her and Helga sitting next to each other. Helga was wearing a distressed look, but what really made Arnold worry, was that she refused to look at him.

"'Morning, girls." Gerald greeted and sat down at his seat in the back. "Good morning." Phoebe answered and glanced at Helga. She was taking a deep breath, put on her best smile and looked at Gerald. "'Morning, tall hair boy."

Gerald just rolled his eyes goodheartedly. "Good morning, Phoebe. Good morning, Helga." Arnold said, obviously talking mostly to Helga. She took a deep breath again and turned around, still wearing the toothpaste smile. "Good morning." She answered very simply.

Arnold started walking to his seat behind Helga, while he eyed her a little. Well, she's definitely acting funny. Could it be about yesterday? Maybe she felt more awkward about it than she let on… Or… he sat down and looked at his pocket, which contained the poem. Could Helga be the one who wrote this?

Arnold duck his hand into his pocket and retrieved the small folded paper. He started reading it. It doesn't sound like Helga… Then again, I've never read anything written by her. Could this be the kinda thing she writes in those notebooks of hers…?

"What do you have there, Arnold?" Phoebe asked. Helga felt like smacking her silly at the question. She didn't dare to turn around and look at Arnold's facial expression. He smirked a bit. "Someone left a note for me in my locker." He answered, studying Helga's reaction the best he could.

Helga felt the panic flow through her, and she started shivering a little. She felt something clicking inside her head, and all of a sudden, she knew how her reaction to this would be. She turned around with a cocked eyebrow. "A note? What kinda note?"

"Some sort of love poem." Arnold answered carefully, making sure to observe Helga's face. Her face went surprised. "Who would send you a love note?" she asked in incredulity. Phoebe felt like sighing and rolling her eyes. Terrific. She's so scared of his reaction, that she's reversed back to the old Helga.

"Well, it's not signed, so I don't know." Arnold answered with a small frown. How come I feel nostalgic in a bad way? The way she's looking at me… It's like she's mocking me. He thought. "What? Give me that!" Helga ordered and stole the note from his hand.

Arnold watched her, as she read it through. She started laughing maliciously. "Oh, my God, this is horrible! Who wrote this? Gerald's little sister Timberly?" she asked and threw it casually back at Arnold, who caught it in slight panic. He scowled deeply.

"Throw it out." Helga ordered in an indifferent voice. Arnold's eyes went wide. "What?" he said in shock. "Did I stutter, bucko?" Helga asked. "This poem is pathetic! The person who wrote this, is obviously either a child or insane."

"How is this person insane?"

"Hello! Earth to football headed boy! She wrote you a poem! Who does that? Especially to you."

That one hurt. To know that Helga thought it was impossible for Arnold to have a girl liking him enough even to write him a poem really hurt. He gritted his teeth and stood up. "You know what? You're right." He said and walked over to the garbage bin, as he crumbled the poem in his hand. "This girl didn't even have the guts to put her name on it, so why should I even bother with her? It does belong in the garbage."

Helga watched with an uncomfortable beat in her heart, as Arnold threw the poem she wrote about and gave to him in the trashcan. He sauntered right back after that and sat down behind her in his seat. She felt like throwing up, crying and passing out all at the same time. She knew it was her own fault for talking about the poem like that, but he didn't even try to argument against her.

Then the bell rang, and some students already walked in. Phoebe gave a sigh, before she left Helga to sit at her desk next to Gerald. He leaned towards her, as the swarm of students came in. "Did Helga write that poem?" he asked.

Phoebe hesitated, but then sighed again and nodded. "Man! Why did she talk like that then?" Gerald asked with a serious frown. She shrugged. "She went right back to her bully state. She panicked." She answered.

"Well, yeah, obviously, but Arnold had seriously hoped the poem was from her. He even said that he wasn't even curious about it, if it wasn't Helga who wrote it."

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh, no… Ok, this time we can't just leave them be. We have to try and talk to them, but in what way?"

"Well… I could try and convince Arnold that Helga reacted like that due to jealousy?" Gerald suggested. Phoebe nodded. "Yeah… Yeah, that seems plausible. Especially with Helga… but what do I tell her?" she asked.

"That you think Arnold reacted like that, because he got disappointed that it wasn't her who wrote it! Which is true, so you won't be lying." Gerald answered before leaning back into his seat. "Man, this whole love thing between those two is so complicated."

"They're both scared for their own reasons."

"It's ridiculous."

"They're a dangerous combination, Gerald." Phoebe said seriously. Gerald cocked an eyebrow and looked at his girlfriend. "Dangerous…? What do you mean?" he asked. She took a deep breath and looked back at him. "Look at it this way. Helga's only been accepted very few times in her life, while not experiencing love from the people who should love her the most, ergo: She's scared out of her mind that the one guy she's actually opened her heart to will hurt her."

"Seems reasonable… but what about Arnold?"

"I'm not too sure about him… Only that he's so willing to love her, that it might even scare him a little. She's hinting at him that she loves him, but he doesn't see the signs, because he's also scared. Think about it: Falling in love with that one person who's always treated you as if you were the last person on earth they'd ever be with? How can that not be scary? Besides, like Helga, Arnold also missed love from his parents as a child. He had his grandparents, but it's not really the same. He probably wouldn't admit it ever, but he must have felt like they just left him back then and didn't care about him at all."

Gerald took in all of Phoebe's words and then sighed heavily. "You're right; they are a dangerous combination. Two people, both too scared of rejection to believe in their own love for each other." He muttered.

Phoebe cocked an eyebrow. "That was very deep, Gerald." She observed with a small smirk. Gerald turned to look at her with narrowed eyes. "Must you sound so surprised?" he asked, which earned an adorable giggle from his girlfriend.

When the first class was over and it was time for recess, both blonde teens wanted to get as far away from each other as possible. That's also why Arnold stayed put in his seat, when Helga practically jumped out of the room. He groaned at the back of his throat, when he noticed Aaron following her.

Helga noticed Aaron immediately, but that didn't exactly make her slow her pace. "Helga, I need to talk to you." He said while doing his best to follow her. "I did as you told me, so leave me alone." She answered. "You did? Which one?" he asked. "The second one." She answered briefly and turned a corner.

Aaron stopped dead in his tracks for a second. "What! Really? Then… Hey!" he called and followed Helga again, this time walking next to her. "Then what is up with you?" he asked her in something that sounded like concern.

"What is up with me?!" Helga repeated and stopped to scowl at Aaron. "What is up with me is that Arnold threw out my poem!"

"What?! But… no, you must have misheard - "

"I saw him do it! Now, leave me alone!" Helga interrupted and started sprinting down the hallway. Aaron looked at her in complete and utter shock. "Threw her poem out? Why would he do that?" he wondered aloud, but then it hit him. The idiot didn't sign it…

Aaron turned back on his heels and ran back to the classroom, just in time to see Arnold and Gerald walk outside, Arnold wearing a scowl, which matched Helga's. "Arnold!" he called and ran up to them. They turned their heads, and Arnold's scowl only got deeper. "Oh, now you're talking? What's up?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Aaron asked, a little out of breath from running around like this. Arnold cocked an eyebrow. "Why? About what? I'm not really in the mood for chit-chat." He answered.

"It's about Helga." Aaron explained with a serious expression. Arnold growled, but let out a sigh right after. "What about her?" he asked. Aaron opened his mouth to speak, but then glanced at Gerald. "Uh… could I talk with you in private?"

Gerald's eyebrows lifted and he turned to look at Arnold, who seemed pensive for a second. "I'll meet you outside." He then said. "You sure, man?" Gerald asked. Arnold smiled and nodded. "Well, all right. You'd better not be planning to pull any tricks on my man." Gerald warned Aaron before he left.

"So? What is it about Helga?" Arnold asked without looking at Aaron. "… Why is she mad at you?" Aaron asked bluntly. Arnold's eyes went wide. "What? She's mad at me?" he repeated but then rolled his eyes. "Of course, she's mad at me. That shouldn't even surprise me. She's always been mad at me for one stupid reason or another."

Aaron frowned at Arnold's out-of-character anger. "She… mentioned something about a poem?" he asked carefully. Arnold gritted his teeth. "Oh, she told you about that, huh? Yeah, a girl left me a love poem in my locker, and Helga… made fun of it."

"What? 'Made fun of it'? How?"

"Saying it was pathetic, that it sounded like it was written by Gerald's little sister and… something about 'why would anyone give you a poem?'" Arnold answered and felt the anger and hurt boil inside him.

Aaron lifted his hand and put it against his forehead. That idiot… he thought and gave a sigh. He pulled his hand away from his face. "And what then?" he asked. "Simple: I threw it out." Arnold answered.

"You threw it out?!"

"Yeah!"

"But… what would you gain from doing that?"

"There was nothing to gain from the poem to begin with! It was obviously not written by Helga, so I don't really care who wrote it." Arnold answered and felt only a tint of compassion towards the girl, who liked him enough to write to him like that. He simply didn't have it in him right now to feel more sad for her.

Aaron's mouth went wide open at Arnold's words, and he stared at him for a couple of seconds before his lips become to very thin lines. He growled in frustration and looked away. "You guys are so thickheaded, it almost hurts…" he muttered and turned around to walk away.

"Why do people keep saying that?!" Arnold asked in frustration. Aaron turned around, now walking backwards. "Because you are the most dense, thickheaded football headed kid, I have ever met!" he answered and turned around.

"I'm the only football headed kid you've ever met!" Arnold yelled back in a childish attempt to get back at him. "Where are you going anyway? To talk with Helga or something?"

"Something like that, yeah!" Aaron answered and stopped near the corner. "And if it bothers you that much, then try to fucking interfere for once! Do something!" with those words, he turned the corner and ran.

"No way! Go and talk to Helga all you want. I don't care anymore!" Arnold yelled in frustration and turned around. Out of anger, he kicked at one of the lockers to his side, earning a little pain his foot but not enough even to show it on the outside. I don't understand that girl… I never have and I never will.

When Arnold got outside, Gerald grabbed his shoulder almost immediately and pulled him up against the wall. "Ow! What the Hell?!" Arnold shouted and pushed Gerald's hand off him instantly. "I am not in the mood to listen to any preaching."

"Yeah? Too bad. You're gonna get one anyway. Let me ask you something. Why do you think Helga got so pissed at you receiving a poem?"

"I don't know! Why does Helga get pissed about anything?"

"Think for a second! If it had been the other way around, then what would you have felt?" Gerald asked. Arnold finally calmed down. He managed to think about it for a second. He closed his eyes, imagining the scenario Gerald professed. He frowned deeply. "I'd be jealous. So very, very jealous."

"See?" Gerald said, as if the answer then should be clear. Arnold's frown just turned confused. "What do you mean 'see'?" he asked. Gerald rolled his eyes dramatically. "It's no wonder you're not getting anywhere with Helga, you're too damn dense!"

Arnold scowled. "Hey! I said that I am not in the mood to - "

"Helga's jealous, you damn idiot!" Gerald interrupted. Arnold's head whipped back and his eyes got big. Then he sighed and shook his head. "No way." he answered. "Oh? And why are you so sure about that?" Gerald asked with an eyebrow quirked.

"Because she's Helga Pataki! She wouldn't get jealous about something like that. I can barely imagine her being envious of anyone."

"… Arnold… we agree that Helga's insecure, right?"

"Well - "

"You say it yourself all the time: She's hiding herself. That means she's insecure. Girls like that get easily jealous. Besides, with her temper, don't you think she'd almost try and find this girl and punch her to death?"

Arnold gulped at the thought and felt a tinge of happiness. "Ok… so maybe Helga being jealous might not be impossible, but… then why is she mad at me now?"

"Is she?"

"Aaron just told me. I don't get it. I threw the poem out! I even said I wasn't interested in a girl who didn't even have the guts to put her name on it. If Helga was jealous, then shouldn't she have been happy about that?" Arnold asked.

Gerald tried very hard to keep his sigh in. Man, how do I twist this one…? Knowing Helga actually wrote that poem herself… that comment must have hurt a lot, but it doesn't make sense if she didn't write it, so… "I'm just guessing here… but maybe it could be because you said 'didn't have the guts', you know?"

"I'm not following."

"Think about it. If Helga likes you too and if maybe she has even liked you for as long as you have liked her… then technically she doesn't even have the guts to send you a secret love poem. Maybe she felt like it was a shot at her somehow?"

Arnold had been on a rollercoaster ride, as Gerald had talked. Firstly he experienced happiness at the mere thought of Helga actually liking him for that long, maybe even being in love with him. Then sadness, hurt and anger at himself. He hadn't thought that she would've seen his reaction to that poem like that.

Arnold lifted his hand and rubbed it against his forehead. "Great… Aaron's right: I really am thickheaded. This must have been what he meant." He muttered. "If even the guy who is also after Helga sees it like this, then there's no way I can be wrong." Gerald answered, for once happy that Aaron was involved.

"I'm gonna go talk to her!" Arnold announced. "Huh? Uh, hold on!" Gerald exclaimed and grabbed his shoulder. Arnold turned to look at him over his shoulder. "What?" he asked. "Well… wh-what are you gonna say?" Gerald asked.

"Huh? Oh, I, uh… I don't know."

"See? You act before you think." Gerald declared and turned Arnold around, so he would face him. "Listen. Right now Helga is probably really mad at you. Give her some time to cool down first. Besides, what are you gonna say? 'Sorry, that I threw out that poem another girl gave me'? Yeah, she'd probably misunderstand that."

"Then what am I supposed to say?!" Arnold asked in pure frustration. "Calm down!" Gerald patted Arnold's shoulder. "That's what you'll think about 'till lunch, ok?" he suggested. Arnold took a deep breath to collect himself a nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Gerald… I hope you're right about the jealousy thing."

"I'm pretty sure that I am." Gerald answered with a confident smirk. Arnold's smile was big, but then sighed heavily. How did it turn out like this…? Why is everything always so complicated with you, Helga?

Author's 2nd note: Hey! It can't be all fluff and happiness now, can it? Yeah, Arnold and Helga are good at misunderstanding each other, that's why they're this horribly complicated couple, and that's why we love them xD