1999

Discovery
Part Nine: The Real Girl


(This fic is written entirely from Arnold's point of view. I really tried to get into his head, even as HE tries to understand Helga.)



Arnold stood in front of Helga G. Pataki, holding out the locket.

Why doesn't she say anything?

She didn't move, standing there as if frozen.

She looks...scared. Of me?

And suddenly the last pieces of the Puzzle fell into place. When Helga said mean things to people, she wasn't really attacking them, she was protecting herself! He'd always known this, in a vague sort of way, but now he realized that HE was probably the thing Helga felt she needed protection from the most ... thus her particularly severe treatment of him.

Wait. Are her hands shaking a little?

Looking at the girl before him, realizing that one harsh word from him could devastate her, Arnold felt suddenly protective of this vulnerable, sensitive girl. And realizing the importance of her decision, he smiled warmly at her, his green eyes saying, 'It's all right. I understand now.'

Hesitantly, her hand trembling violently, she reached out to take the locket. As her fingers closed over it, she looked directly into his eyes.

Slowly, she smiled. It was as if a ray of sunlight had burst through the now-heavy layer of clouds overhead. Not a sneer, not a scowl, the smile she gave him was sweet, and shy, and full of hope. Her blue eyes were shining.

Arnold blinked. The Helga he had always known was gone, replaced by a person he'd only caught glimpses of.

A girl. Shy, caring, vulnerable. Compassionate. This was the girl who defended Phoebe from schoolyard bullies. The one who'd been such a wonderful Juliet in the school play, who'd tried to protect him from Summer. This was the girl who'd rescued him from the floodwaters in the biodome, even though they'd been arguing furiously just moments before. The girl who'd saved his life in that tree...

As Helga lifted the locket from his hand, Arnold said quietly, "All my life you've been a mystery, Helga. I always believed you were a nice person deep down, but I just couldn't understand why you chose to act so mean and nasty all the time. The older we've gotten, the worse it's been between us. I guess ... the last couple of years I haven't been trying very hard. I didn't think you even wanted to be friends."

"When I think that all this time, you've been guarding this secret ... It must've been really hard work, hiding your feelings for so long..."

Helga spoke for the first time. "It was..." she whispered, confirming everything.

After a long pause, she continued. "I've been in love with you since the first day we met."

Arnold was astonished. "Really?"

She nodded. "Hi." you said. 'Nice bow.' you said, sheltering me from the driving rain with your little umbrella. 'I like your bow,' you said, 'because it's pink like your pants.' I've been wearing pink ever since." she said simply.

Arnold was amazed. "And you've been keeping it a secret ever since? Why?"

"I HAD to, Arnold!" she burst out, looking upset. "The other kids would've made fun of us. And besides..." she added, dropping her gaze to the ground. "What if you didn't love me back? I couldn't take that chance. I couldn't let ANYONE know my secret. I had to become an expert at hiding my true feelings, so that no one would ever guess..."

Her blue eyes filled with tears as she looked at him. "Oh, Arnold, you have no idea how many times I've TRIED to tell you. But I was always cut short by unforeseen circumstances ... or just plain cowardice!"

Her voice held a note of the bitterness he'd heard from her so often. Startled, Arnold looked closely at her as he realized for the first time that the bitterness was directed at herself!

Helga stood there with her blonde ponytails waving in the strong wind, her blue eyes dark with misery and self-reproach.

Arnold felt an odd sensation go through him. It seemed to him he'd felt it before ... but not nearly as strong. It seemed to be mostly concentrated in his chest...

He opened his mouth-

Helga's eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the bruise on his cheek. She gasped. "Did I do that?"

"Huh? Oh, this?" Arnold had to struggle to refocus his attention on her question. "It's okay, Helga, it doesn't really hurt. "

Her face changed to a look of such loving gratefulness that he blinked and was silent. She spoke in the same passionate voice she'd used earlier in the tires, edged with tears. "Oh, Arnold, always the brave, noble soul, enduring without complaint all the terrible wrongs I have done to you. And yet in your eyes I see not an ounce of hatred, not a drop of vengeance. "

Her voice trembled. "How can you do it, Arnold? How can you stand there and look at the person who has tormented you every day for the past six years and not hate me?"

Miserably she crossed her arms, hunching her shoulders. "I hate myself " she admitted in a whisper, tears trickling down her cheeks.