Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! or it's characters.

Chapter 12,

Dear Diary,

Over the past few days, Arnold has been hard at work trying to get this kite to fly. Gerald's ready to give up on it, but you and I both know that Arnold won't quit until he gets it to fly at least once. He's so determined that way. But he's been working on the kite so much, that I even had a dream of Arnold flying through the sky on a kite, talking to the clouds.

Regardless, I finally finished my ABC gum monument to Arnold. I got the last piece of gum earlier when Arnold and Gerald were talking about the aerodynamics of their kite.

The only thing I didn't have was something to be his hat. I figured that, since the statue was of Arnold's gum, then the hat might as well be Arnold's hat. I wonder how many of those hats he has, I mean, I almost never see him without it. Surely he won't miss one little old hat, right?

I tried to reach out and grab it when he walked by, but I lost my balance and fell in a trash can. Then so tried to be a little more sneaky and get the hat with a fishing pole. However, instead of his hat, I hooked some delivery truck and it dragged me straight through a pigeon coup. I sat on the roof all upset about not getting the hat, and miraculously with a gust of wind, Arnold's hat landed on the roof in front of me.

I gently carried it home and put it on the statue... uh... I won't describe what I did next, I'd rather forget that.

I'm feeling so good, I think I'll go celebrate with some Jolly Olly ice cream.

Dear Diary,

Part of me feels like I've been through hell and back, and part of me feels like I've died and gone to heaven. Let me start from the beginning.

When I found the Jolly Olly man, he had crashed into a fire hydrant outside Arnold's house. He must have had a concussion or something, because he was happily giving away all of his ice cream. I knew he must have needed a doctor, but why can't we have some ice cream before he returns to his bitter old self? I like to think it helps to make up for some of the rotten stuff he's done to us is the past.

I hear Gerald calling up to Arnold and Arnold's response was that he was never going to leave his house for the rest of his life. I felt so guilty that I couldn't even get mad at Gerald for how insensitive he was towards the whole ordeal. It was wrong of me to take Arnold's hat, and I decided right then and there to rush home and return it to him.

But when I did, I discovered that Miriam had dismantled and thrown out the whole display I built. Ignoring how long it took for me to assemble and trying to figure out why Miriam had the sudden urge to A. Go into my room, B. Go into my closet, and C. To do any sort of cleaning... I rushed out to the garbage truck, just to breath in a cloud of exhaust as they drove away.

But I needed to get that hat back before Arnold became a hermit, or worse, become an angry or miserable person like Bob or Miriam. I may not be able to change my parents, but I wasn't about to sit around and watch Arnold turn into one of them.

I went straight to the dump, hopped the fence and started digging through the garbage. After three hours of searching, I found a pigeon engulfed by Arnold's hat and I was so thankful to see it.

I hightailed it to the bus, and the ride sucked. I reeked to high heaven, and I could see people grimacing, and the driver complained when I was walking off the bus. How annoying.

But I bumped into Arnold right after that, and he was so grateful to have his hat back, that he hugged me. Of course, when he let go, he kinda gave me this weird smile, before he said goodbye. The feeling of his hug and the look of that smile burn into my mind.

He's so beautiful with or without his hat, but if it makes him so happy that he hugs me... well... I hope one day he feels like he loves and needs me, as much as he loves and needs that cute hat of his...

Dear Diary,

Have an ever told you about Stoop Kid? He's a kid a couple of years older then us, and he lives on the stoop of this vacant building. But he's mean to anyone who comes in his direction, and he'll hurt anyone who messes with his stoop.

Some people say he was abandoned there as a baby. Others say aliens left him, or even that he grew from a seed in the cracks of the stoop. It's kinda ridiculous, since we only know that Stoop Kid's been there for 6 years. It's actually sad, really...

The other day, I heard that Arnold dropped his football on that stoop and then he figured out that Stoop Kid was afraid to leave his stoop, and he rushed by and retrieved his ball back. Well, I felt terrible for the kid. Everyone was chanting and bullying him, and using his own fear against him. I'm kind of afraid that's what will happen if I confess my feelings to Arnold. I can't even describe the emotions that plagued me when I heard the echo of Stoop Kid's wailing into the night.

But today, Arnold managed to work a miracle and got Stoop Kid to leave his stoop. It almost seems ridiculous how much press came to see it. But you know, Arnold worked with him to leave the stoop, and even though I don't see Stoop Kid 'moving' any time soon, that's still an impressive feat.

Actually, Bob got mad at the whole situation. He said that Stoop Kid didn't deserve to be in the papers, and he told me a story that may or may not be real.

He said Stoop Kid's parents actually owned that building he's living in front of. But one day the mother died, and they lost all their money. Stoop Kid and his father were homeless, struggling to find food and work. Often times, they would sleep outside the home they once owned, since they were no longer able to go inside.

Bob says he knows why Stoop Kid is so scared to leave his stoop, 'read it all in the paper'. According to Bob, early one morning, Stoop Kid's father stepped off the stoop and got hit by a car. Three days later, they discover that Stoop Kid saw the whole thing. They tried to remove him, but he became so violent, they decided to let him stay there until he was ready to leave.

But he wasn't completely alone because they had some psychologist visiting him. Not only does this, Dr. Bliss chick, talk to him and bring him food, but some other adults, like the mailman Harvey and the butcher Mr. Green, occasionally brought him things too.

I can't imagine being so messed up that I need to see a shrink and people actually feel sorry for me. But if Bob is telling the truth, then I wish he wouldn't get so angry at some kid for actually healing a little bit.

Actually... dare I say, I think it's nice that so many people are helping him. He might be a really angry person, but some of the angriest people need the most love. I can understand that, and I wouldn't dare take that away.

Dear Diary,

Stupid heat wave... I woke up drenched in sweat in this 106 degree heat. And if it wasn't bad enough the streets are lined with overflowing trash cans because of the citywide sanitation strike that's been going on the past few days. The heat's just makes the smell ten times worse. That might help their cause now, but when they get back to work, that first day is really gonna suck.

Bob doesn't seem very bothered by the heatwave, but he actually has air conditioning in his room. Says it's to protect his precious beeper belt, and if he is in tip-top condition, then the rest of the family will prosper because he'll still be selling like a matching.

You know, one might wonder why he doesn't have air conditioning in Olga's trophy room, but Bob set up 6 fans just to keep them from melting.

I was a little worried about Miriam, though. Alcohol dries out your body and in this heat, she could really get dehydrated, maybe even have a heatstroke. She told me not to worry about her because she put enough ice in her smoothie to keep her cool. Highly unlikely, if you ask me, since she's had a heatstroke before; so I pulled a small prank on my mother.

Her vodka bottle was really low and when she left the room, I picked it up and filled the rest of it with water. I've only done this a few times, because sometimes Miriam can tell it's been watered down and she'll throw a fit. However, with this heat melting her ice so fast, I doubt she'll notice. Even if she did, it's way too hot for her to care.

I went out to get some ice cream, and that Jolly Olly jerk had jacked up the prices. I told him he couldn't do this to us because it was so inhuman. All the kids were angry that he was charging roughly 20 for anything worth having.

Then, out of nowhere, like a cowboy defending his town, Arnold appeared. He grabbed that man by the collar of his uniform and told him that his air conditioner broke down, he got a bag of ice that melted before he got home, the pool and theater were too crowded to get in, and now, finally he finds something to cool himself down, just a little ice cream, and Jolly Olly snatched that away from him.

That cold jerk, though that's not the word I want to use, was completely Unphased by hearing all this. In fact, he drove Arnold to start protesting. Oh, it was almost overwhelming to see the way Arnold convinced all the kids to chant 'no ice cream, no peace'. They were all so consumed by Arnold's words, that they never noticed my dopey admiration for the boy.

I guess I kinda took over the mob at that point, because Arnold stepped away from the crowd. I climbed on top of the Jolly Olly truck and demanded a fair price we kids could afford. We gave him a chance to speak, but Jolly Olly barely budged.

I demanded that we flip the truck, and they didn't even wait for me to get down before they started shaking it. I almost fell over, but I climbed down and then we all started shaking the truck. Heck, even happy little Eugene got in on the action. Granted he broke his back, but he was still rebel enough to try.

Then Arnold yelled 'Excuse me' and he started talking about the Jolly Olly man actually being our friend. Which sooo isn't true. If he was our friend, we would know simple things about each other, like names. I don't know what his real name is, only that we call him 'Jolly Olly man'. And you know, I'll call Harold 'fat boy', every once in a while, but I've never heard Jolly Olly calling him Harold, even once. He is cruel and mean to all of us, and doesn't even pretend to hide it. Man, I can't even imagine his home life, it must be worse then mine.

Though I was personally impressed with the fact that Arnold noticed and remembered the fact that I get chocolate-covered bubblegum drumsticks, I didn't want to blame all of this on the heat. I still wanted to flip the truck.

Then, all of a sudden, it got dark and I felt water on my skin. It was raining, and it was wonderful. We played in the rain as the Jolly Olly man escaped. When I got home, I heard the announcer say it was gonna rain heavily for the rest of the week, with a 60 mile an hour wind.

I was almost glad to be freezing when I went through the kitchen to grab a microwave meal. It's gonna suck go walk to school in the rain like that. But hopefully I'll still have my raincoat, or an umbrella, or something. Well, even if I don't, I'll survive. After all, I first met Arnold in the rain, so many years ago.

Dear Diary,

Late last night, the rain grew cold and turned into snow. The first snow of the season, too; 14 inches. So, like any decent kid, I turned on the radio in my room to listen to the school closures.

I don't know about you, diary, but I want to try and enjoy every snowfall I can. As kids, snow is like a blessing from the sky, blanketing the town and transforming it into a giant sled hill.

But then you grow up and you see it as one giant traffic jam. Doing a bunch of extra chores you don't want to do, and doing your normal routine in the cold.

Bob was on the phone yelling at some employee who can't make it to work, because his car is snowed it. Miriam is in the kitchen with her bedsheet wrapped around her trying to make... I don't know, Irish coffee, hot buttered rum, hot toddy, eggnog? I never know anymore; but it's too cold for smoothies, so she needed to make something warm to drink.

And when Harvey stopped by to drop off our mail, he was talking about how he hated the snow, as if it were a song.

Seems like the only adult who likes the snow is Arnold's grandmother. She put together some makeshift bobsled, and was screaming 'must rescue the missionaries' when she passed our house. I may not know much about her, but I love that crazy lady. She's so fun, I can't wait for her to be my family.

Dear Diary,

I met up with Phoebe and we put together some snowmen. I know it's silly, but I made one that looked like Arnold. It was cute, and I wanted to kiss it, but then Phoebe realized what I had built, and I was forced to karate chop his head off.

Shortly after that, we went to the snow hill and took turns sliding down it. I told Phoebe that it was odd to see Gerald without Arnold glued to his side, and Phoebe went ahead and asked Gerald where Arnold was. A small part of me was concerned that she asked because she knew I wanted to know, but... I really, really wanted to know. Gerald told us that he got stuck doing chores with his grandfather.

By the time 2:00 rolled around, I noticed the snow starting to melt, and I kind of submitted to the fact that I wasn't gonna be able to play with Arnold. Tomorrow the snow would be gone, and things would return back to normal.

But then suddenly Arnold's grandfather did something to make his wife proud. He grabbed three water hoses and doused the street in water, until it smoothed over and created our own personal ice rink. I stopped Working on the snowman that looked like me, and rushed over to this winter hazard.

We started playing ice hockey and Arnold's grandmother joined our game, wearing full gear too. Man, I loved it when she knocked that demolisher into his own goal so hard it dinted the metal with his outline. Man I Love That Crazy Lady!!!

And then, to my surprise, I see Arnold charging right at me and I had to jump over him to avoid getting hit. Man, he looked like he was having a lot of fun. Of course part of that could be a result of Ruth giving him goo-goo eyes.

We skated around for what seemed like a lifetime; us kids and the borders. And when it got dark and really cold, Arnold's grandfather got a barrel fire going and we all warmed up by it's flames. We talked and told stories and sang songs late into the night, and I didn't want to go home.

The only other noteworthy thing, I suppose, was I passed Stoop Kid on my bus ride home, and I saw some woman giving him a blanket and a coat to him, so he can stay warm. It made me think dad's story about Stoop Kid was real, and this must be that psychiatrist trying to help him. Oh, what was her name? Oh, well, it will come to me later.

Hey... do you think Arnold would have been willing to help Stoop Kid if he hadn't been forced to help Torvald? I guess that's kind of a stretch huh. He was scared of Torvald and Stoop Kid, and somehow earned their trust and helped them both out. I don't know...

I mean, he liked Frankie G, before he shoved him in a window. And he helped Tucker, well, I'm pretty sure he did, anyways. Arnold's just a really caring person. Always has been.

Dear Diary,

After school, Phoebe and I walked to the Corner Store to pick up some candy and I was asking her what she wanted to do tomorrow. But much to my dismay, Phoebe wants to go to Rhonda's sleepover, because they're gonna do makeovers and a bunch of girly stuff.

Technically Rhonda invited all the girls, except me. I think Phoebe wanted my permission to go to Rhonda's party, and begrudgingly I gave it. After all, I got a million better things to do on a Saturday night, then be stuck in a room with a bunch of sissy girls.

Dear Diary,

I went out to play baseball with the boys, but they told me they were having a boy's only game, so I couldn't play with them. Then Harold said I wasn't girl enough to be invited to the slumber party, and all the boys started teasing me. Well, I didn't actually see Arnold and Gerald making fun of me, but they didn't do anything to stop it, either. They just sat on a stoop and watched me squirm like everyone else did. Finally, I made them stop by chasing down Harold and giving him a piece of my mind.

But I was still upset at the whole ordeal. I like to think of myself as pretty and feminine, and delicate... of course, if I was really like that, people wouldn't think that I was a boy when I bumped into them.

I decided to stop by the sleepover. I thought that if I stopped by and see how boring it was, then I wouldn't feel so wrong about not being invited. But when I got there, I saw Rhonda doing impressions of me, teasing me behind my back to make everyone else laugh their guts out. Even Phoebe.

I started to think maybe their was something wrong with me. Too much of a girl to be with the boys, to much of a boy for the girls, too much of a kid to be taken seriously, and too much of an adult to see the world through rose-colored glasses. I decided right then and there that I was going to change who I am. It's not easy to stand to the side and be the subject of ridicule for everyone.

I went to the corner store and picked up 4 tough magazines and one sissy magazine, hoping to sneak out without anyone suspecting anything. After all, the cashier is Gerald's mom, so there's a chance whatever I do around her will get to Gerald, and Arnold by extension.

I think I would have gotten away with it, if the Preteen Miss scanned properly. Gerald's mom shouted and asked what the price of that magazine was, and I swear all eyes were on me. I was so embarrassed I pretended I didn't see it and bought it anyways to line my birdcage. I put down a bill and ran out of there. I can't imagine what she thinks of me and what she'll tell people. But hopefully by tomorrow, my new image will speak for itself.

I'm a little nervous, though. I didn't want to change who I was for anyone. I never thought that I would change for everyone. The thought of using Miriam's makeup makes me feel uneasy, but if it gets me accepted in this world, then it's something I've got to do, right?

Besides, with competition like Ruth McDougal, I'm starting to doubt that Arnold would ever like me for my own tomboy self. Oh, let's get this over with.

Dear Diary,

I did everything I was suppose to. I put on fake nails, mascara, lipstick, plucked my eyebrow, threw away my old bow, and did my hair.

I got to tell you, the bow was a big thing for me. After all, my bow was the first thing Arnold ever liked about me. Sometimes I think it's the only thing he likes about me. But if I was really gonna change myself, then I couldn't keep the bow; it had to go.

Of course, Miriam kept bothering me, and eventually when I opened the door, my mother fainted at the very sight of me. I changed my clothes and went over to Rhonda's party. I mean, I had a point to prove. I was incredibly feminine and girlie and everyone thought I looked great. Well, sort of.

Phoebe insisted that she talk to me in private. She knew that I was pretending to be into all this girlie stuff, and she liked the old Helga because she was honest, instead of this. I disagreed with her, until I saw the other girls with that green facial funk on their faces. I couldn't go through with it, and I snapped back to the old Helga.

I told them all this stuff was stupid. Why get facials to reduce wrinkles when we don't have wrinkles at nine years old? And they were like, 'this is what girls do. What could be more fun?'

And then we heard a sound outside and we opened the curtain to see the boys making faces at us. We screamed, they screamed, and we chased them down the street. We captured Harold when he tripped, dragged him back to Rhonda's place and gave him a makeover. Not that's what I call fun.

You know, I may not be like the other girls, but maybe that's alright. After all, there's only one Helga G Pataki in the world; why muddle her up with forcing myself to be more girlie then I really am?

A loud knock forced Arnold to stop reading, and he tended at the sound.

"Arnold, open up man." Gerald said and Arnold immediately relaxed. He closed the book and went down to the front door, opened it, and smiled at Gerald.

"Hey." Arnold said. Gerald went into his pocket and handed Arnold the Pataki key.

"Here you go, buddy. I told you, an hour at most." Gerald said and Arnold rose an eyebrow at him.

"Don't suppose you're gonna tell me why you wanted the key to begin with?" Arnold asked and Gerald shrugged.

"I'll tell you if you need to know, but hopefully you won't need to know, ok?" Gerald said.

"Gerald." Arnold pried.

"Dude, trust me. If there's an emergency, I'll tell you all about it, but until then, it's not important." Gerald said and Arnold still wasn't convinced. Gerald looked down at his watch.

"Uh, aren't you on the clock?" Gerald said and Arnold's eyes widened.

"Fine, at least you didn't lose it." Arnold said and he put the key in his pocket.

"Read anything good?" Gerald asked and Arnold sighed heavily.

"You have no idea." Arnold said. They said goodbye and Arnold returned to Helga's room.