Disclaimer: (That I stupidly forgot in the other chapter) I do not own any of the Hey Arnold characters. They are all owned by that one guy…who's owned by Nickelodeon. Yup…uh. I'm only borrowing the characters and messing around with them. Eer…don't take it the wrong way. (all you nasty-minded people)

Chapter Two: I'm…what?

"Good job, Miss Pataki," said Mr. Paltow. "Another A. If you keep this up, you'll be top of the class." He winked.

Helga looked at her essay on Shakespeare. Ten pages, size eleven font. She even added her own interpretations of his sonnets, and inserted her poems. How could she have not gotten an "A"? Hello future career in literature.

"Damn, Helga," began Arnold, moving his chair next to her desk while the teacher let them study. "You are always getting A's on these English assignments. You are good."

"Thanks." She grinned.

"Let me see that essay of yours," he took it from her hand. "This is thick."

"Yeah, so?"

He thumbed through a couple of pages and chuckled slightly.

"What's so funny?"

"You're a poet," he murmered.

"So?" She snatched her essay away from his hands.

"I never would've figured…"

"Well, remember all those anonymous poems that were written in Mr Simmon's class?"

"Yeah?"

"I wrote them."

"Even the one about the boy with the cornflower hair?" He smirked. "Who were you talking about anyways?" He leaned in closer to her.

She felt her cheeks heaten up. She put her hand on her left cheek. "No one." She smiled lightly. "No one you would be interested in."

"Are you sure about that?" He chuckled.

"Very sure, thank you." She turned away from him and opened her book (Pride and Prejudice) and began reading it. Totally ignoring that Arnold was there.

"Is that a good book?" He asked.

"I don't know. I just started yesterday," she mumbled.

"Looks like a good book. Jane Austin is good," he noted.

"Yes, so I've heard," she said sarcastically. She put her book down on her desk. "Isn't there something you should be doing?"

Arnold shrugged. "I guess I could start reading my book…"

"Good for you!" She patted his head. "Now read, and stop bugging me."

"If you insist," he mumbled and went back to his desk.

Helga, you stupid idiot…you should've let him bug you. You know you love it!

***

"Helga, dear, are you okay in there?" Miriam asked, knocking on the bathroom door one Saturday.

"Yeah, Miriam…I'll be okay. I guess I've been feeling a little sick." She barfed in the toilet again and flushed.

"You know, this has been going on for a while. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah Mom…I'll be fine. Don't worry, k?" For the last few weeks, she's been having headaches, backpains, and has been extra sleepy. [A/N: Does it seem that for all my stories I add medical information?]

"If you say so." She walked away.

Helga moaned in the toilet. "Crimety. This is soo not good."

The door bell rang. "Hon," shouted Miriam.

"What?" She yelled back, her arms holding the toilet seat.

"Phoebe's here!"

Helga just remembered that she had a date with Phoebe to go see a movie. How could she go out feeling like such crap? But, on the other hand, it might make her feel better. "Tell her to wait a second!" Helga shouted.

She got up from the cold tile floor and fumbled with some toilet paper and wiped her mouth. She put her hand in front of her face and breathed and inhaled. Her breath smelled like vomit. Quickly, she opened a bottle of Listerine and filled her mouth with it. She gargled for 30 seconds and spit it out. Her hair was kind of a mess too. So she just quickly brushed it with her hands.

Before she walked out the bathroom, she took another look at herself in the big mirror. "Ahh, good enough," she stammered.

She walked out the bathroom and pranced down the stairs. "Hey Phebes," she said as cheerfully as possible in the Trophy Room. "Ready to go?"

"Yup. Come on." They walked out of the door. They promised each other, at least once a month they would go out somewhere and walk there instead of drive. They wanted the excercise (thought they were both equally fit and thin).

On the way, Helga's stomach began feeling a little bad again. Her face turned green.

"Helga, you look really bad…" said Phoebe. "Are you feeling okay?" She asked as they were walking.

Helga shook her head. "Not really. I've been throwing up in the morning…and plus," Helga's voice lowered. "I skipped my period…"

Phoebe gasped. "Oh my God, Helga…could you be…"

"No, I don't think so – well – I hope not. I mean, this thing could be because of stress, ya know? And I've been under stress…it's going to be okay."

"But Helga…I think you should still check with the doctor…" said Phoebe.

Helga sighed. "Fine, if it'll make you happy, Phoebe. Let's just drop by at the drugstore and get a pregnancy test. Okay? Besides, we missed the movie time anyway." They walked into the Sav-On's they were approaching and went straight to the back of the drugstore where they sold those perscription drugs.

"Hi, how may I help you ladies?" The woman at the counter asked. She looked middle aged with white hair and a pair of bifocal glasses on the tip of her nose.

"Um…" Helga mumbled. "Can I please buy a pregnancy test?" She coughed.

The woman smiled warmly. "What brand would you like?"

"The most accurate one please."

The lady went to the back and took the best one for her. "Fifteen dollars please." [A/N: I have no idea how much these cost…I'm guessing…]

Helga's eyes widened. "Oh my fuckin…" Helga mumbled, reaching into her pockets. "Here. Fifteen dollars." She handed her the money and took the test, stuffing it in her pocket.

"Now let's go back to my place," said Helga, quickly walking out of the drug store.

Quietly, they walked back into Helga's house. No one was home. Miriam was out doing who knows what, and Big Bob was off buying more big white belts.

The two of them ran up the stairs to the bathroom. Helga went inside as Phoebe waited outside. After five-fifteen minutes, Phoebe knocked on the door.

"Come on in, Phebes."

Phoebe walked in. "So, is it time?"

Helga glanced at her pink watch. "Sure…why not?" She got up from the toilet and held her breath as she looked at the stick. "Oh my God…" her hand clenched her shirt.

"What?" Phoebe asked with urgency in her tone.

"It's positive…" Helga broke down crying. Her hands covered her face as she cringed down on the floor, crying her eyes out.

Phoebe bit her lip and bent over, patting her best friend's back. Giving her comforting words. "It's okay, Helga…everything will be okay."

"Phoebe, I can't possibly tell this to my parents!" she sobbed. "They'll go balistic." Her voice was shaky as she wailed. "They're both going to kick me out of the house, I just know it!"

"No, they can't do that, Helga. You're still their daughter."

"Y-you don't know how they think. They already don't like me as much as perfect Olga." She tried easing her voice. "They won't want me – they would want to forget me. And I know it. I just know it!"

"Try not thinking about all this right now. You'll just cry even more."

"A-and I don't even kn-know who the father is!" she wailed. Phoebe handed her a few kleenexes. Helga blew into them.

"Well, let's try to figure it out…" said Phoebe. "You say all you have left of that 'mystery guy' is a blue t-shirt?"

Helga nodded and sniffed.

"If I helped you find out who the father is, would you feel better?"

"A little," she said timidly.

"Are you going to tell your parents?" Phoebe asked again.

Helga drew in a deep breath and let out a shaky sigh. "I guess I have no choice. But – no. I'll tell them once I know who the father is," she stated clearly.

"Do you promise?"

"Yes, I promise." Helga forced a smile. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Giving me kleenex." She giggled. "And just for everything. I knew you were my best friend for a reason." Helga winked. Together they laughed.

***

"Hey Phoebe," said Gerald over the phone.

"Hello Gerald!" she said happily. "What's the call for?"

"Arnold and I were going to head out for a burger and we were wondering if you and Helga wanted to join us."

"Uh, I can, but Helga can't."

"I thought you two were spending the day together…"

"Yeah," she replied. "But suddenly she didn't feel very well and had to stay home." Hey, it was true.

"Oh. Cuz Arnold really wanted to see her…" he mumbled.

"Did he really?" she asked in astonishment.

"Yup." She could picture him smirking. "Well, how about we meet at McDonald's in about half an hour?"

"Sounds great."

"Bye…"

"Bye…" She hung up. Though she and Gerald have been going out for six months, Gerald still acted quite awkwardly around her and didn't even tell her those special three words. Everytime she thought about it, she just got more aggravated. So then why didn't she break up with him? Because…she loved him. So much…but just couldn't tell him.

"Gerald, I still just don't understand how you can't just tell her. 'I love you'. Three very simple words!" explained Arnold.

"It's not as easy as it seems!" Gerald retorted. "You just don't understand. You've never had to tell someone how much you love them before. It's hard!"

"Can't be as hard as free-throws."

"You can't compare love with basketball!" snapped Gerald.

"Sure you can," said Arnold. "See, uh, dribbling takes time…just like a relationship. And if you, uh, rush a shot, nothing good will happen from it…like if you rush a…you know…with….well," he murmered.

"See!"

"I'm thinking!! Basketball is a hard game to understand," he mumbled.

In came Phoebe through the door. Her hair was short and her eyes were a big beautiful brown. Her glasses were shaped like cat-eyes and they matched her personality wonderfully. And her legs were so slender and even though she wasn't very tall, her shoes were always high and fashionably chic.

Gerald gawked as she walked towards him and Arnold. He always looked at her that way. It seemed like she never ceased to amaze him in every way. If only he had enough guts to tell her.

"Hi Gerald, Hi Arnold," she smiled, sitting down at the booth with them.

"Hey Phoebe," said Arnold.

"Hey," said Gerald, slightly choking on his words. Or shall I say word.

"So what did you two order?" She wondered.

"I just went ahead and ordered us all cheeseburgers," said Arnold. "Is that ok with you, Phoebe?"

"Perfectly fine." She smiled.

"Number Thirty-Six, your order is ready."

"That's us, I'll go get it," offered Arnold, getting up. Meanwhile, as he got up from his seat, Phoebe noticed a pink sock fall out of his pocket. She leaned over and picked it up. "This is so familiar," she murmered.

"Yeah, it's Arnold's. I mean, it's the girl's," interjected Gerald, sipping his Coke (the drink, not the drug!!).

"What girl's? He's not dating anyone."

"The girl he spent the whole night with at the party."

A lightbulb lighted in Phoebe's head. Then Arnold came back with a tray of cheeseburgers. "Arnold," she began.

"Yeah?"

"This sock…is from the girl you spent the whole night with at the party?" Phoebe held up the sock in her hand.

"Yup. No idea whose it is though. Do you?"

Yes, she thought. It's Helga's… "No. I was just wondering…Arnold, did you, uh, lose anything at the party?"

"As a matter of fact, I lost my mind." He chuckled and noticed the serious look on Phoebe's face. "And my shirt."

"Oh. I see. Do you mind if I take this sock?"

"Sure. Just don't lose it!" He mumbled.

Phoebe put the sock in her purse and finished the burger with Gerald and Arnold. As she was about to leave, Gerald pulled her back.

"Phoebe, I have to tell you something."

"Yes?" Her eyes widened in anticipation, and she leaned in closer to him.

"I uh, well," he groaned lightly. "I had a nice time with you today." He forced a grin.

"Oh." She sounded disappointed and had a hurt look on her face. "Ok." She nodded slowly. "I have to go…"

Gerald nodded too. "Bye…see you on Monday."

"Bye." Quickly she scurried out of the resteraunt and into her car.

"Dimwit," he murmered to himself.

Phoebe hurried into her room and locked the door, she picked up the phone and dialed Helga's number.

"'Ello?" asked Helga.

"Helga!" squealed Phoebe.

"What?"

"I know who the father is!"

Helga choked on her potato chips. "…Who?"

"Well, remember you lost your pink sock?"

"Yes…"

"And you have that blue shirt?"

"…yeah?"

"Arnold lost his blue shirt that night…and Arnold had your sock!"

Helga gasped. "So it's Arnold?"

"Yes!"

"Oh my…Lordy. I – I don't know what to say." Helga put her hand on her chest and just dropped her jaw. "Arnold…sweet innocent Arnold lost my virginity, got drunk, and made me pregnant?"

"Seems that's what the scenario is."

"Phebes, how am I supposed to tell him? I get choked up whenever I get near him."

"You two are friends, and I think he's starting to like you a lot."

"I hope so. I just can't picture myself telling him." She sighed.

"You're going to have to tell him, Helga. It's either you or the baby."

"Is that an option?"

"Helga!" said Phoebe sternly. "You're stuck with this wether you like it or not."

"Have we discussed the abortion part?" Helga asked cheerfully.

"Helga! Please," demanded Phoebe. "You know abortion is illegal in this state. Besides, why would you want to kill an innocent life just to save your own reputation?"

Helga shrugged. "I don't know…"

"Well, you're going to have to tell someone. This won't be a secret forever."

"I know, I know. I think I'll tell Arnold first."

"Good idea," she paused, "Well, I best be going. Mother wants me to help her clean the kitchen. Best of luck to you, Helga."

"Thanks…bye."

They hung up.

Helga looked up at her ceiling and held back the tears. "Why me?"

***

"And Arnold makes another three-pointer from way down town," Gerald shouted and laughed along with everyone else on the basketball team.

"Yes, thank you, thank you!" Arnold put his hands up in the air and grinned stupidly. Helga watched him from the bleachers. Man, he was so talented with his dribbling/shooting skills. She could stare at him all day, even though he was like a sweaty pig.

The coach blew his whistle. "Good work out, team! Now take a shower, you all smell bad," he yelled.

Arnold began walking to the locker room when he saw Helga sitting on the bleachers, writing in her notebook. He smiled slightly and went up to her. "Hey Helga. Couldn't get enough of me during the day, could you?"

"No, of course not," she said jokingly. They chuckled together. "Arnold, I have something to tell you."

"Me too," he mumbled. He rubbed the back of his neck. Lately, he had gotten few fond of her. I mean, she was so much more wholesome than before. He began seeing a different kind of Helga. A Helga he wouldn't mind dating.

"Oh okay then, uh, you go first then." Helga put her notebook back in her backpack and looked at Arnold intently.

Arnold twirled the basketball in his hands and let out a deep breath. "Helga, you know I've liked you for a long time now."

"Oh really?" She layed her cheek upon her hand.

"Yeah, and I was wondering if you'd wanna go out sometime." His cheeks flushed pink. Though they were already pink from working out, they were even pinker!

"Like on a date?"

"Well, yeah."

"Funny you should mention that, Football Head."

"Why?"

"You know how we were both at that party?"

"Yeah…and…?"

"And we both spent the whole night with someone…"

Arnold looked hurt. "Are you saying you already have a boyfriend?"

"No, no. I don't. But…"

"Look, I don't have one! I don't even remember what I did that night!" he defended.

Helga rolled her eyes. "I know what you did."

"You do?"

"Yup," she paused, "you knocked me up."

Arnold's eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. "What?"

"I'm pregnant. And you're the father. Congratulations!" she said dully. "I just had to tell you that, and so now I'm going." She got up from the bleachers and began walking out.

"Wait, Helga!" He called out, running after her.

"What?" she asked irritably, flipping her hair in his face.

"What if you're not really pregnant?"

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm pregnant! The test said so!"

"Maybe the test was wrong." Arnold shrugged. "Those things are wrong all the time."

"I got the most accurate one. THAT COST ME FIFTEEN BUCKS."

Arnold sighed and scratched his head. "I don't know what to say…"

"You don't have to say anything. I just had to tell you, and now you know. So now I'm leaving, Ok?" She grinned and walked out of the gym.

Arnold just stood there. Man, oh, Man. What was he going to do?

A/N: There are more chapters coming. I'm going to make this as dramatic as possible in future chapters…and uh…yes. Thanks for all those reviews!