A/N: Thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate them :)
By the time Arnold reached the Boarding House it was about 7pm. His eyes were sore from lack of sleep, and he suffered from a headache. Sleeping was the only thing he wanted to do right then. He smiled at the thought of his soft bed and warm blankets.
Opening the large green door, he weaved passed the animals that escape the house (something that happened so regularly, he'd gotten used to it and didn't even notice anymore). Grandpa was soon at his side to welcome the hero home.
"Hey there Short Man!" he beamed, but then his expression changed. "Oh you look terrible Arnold! What happened? Get hit by a truck? Ooh I'm just kiddin', but you do look awful." Arnold wasn't too impressed.
"Thanks Grandpa" he said sarcastically. "I'm really tired, I'm going bed ok? Good night Grandpa" And with that, Arnold slowly made his way up the stairs, leaving a slightly concerned Phil watching him ascend. As soon as Arnold was out of sight, Phil chuckled lightly to himself.
"Too much excitement for the poor kid. Little guy's all tuckered out." He smiled and turned around, headed for the kitchen, soon to be splattered with fruit innards. "Oh Pookie! Not watermelon again!"
Arnold changed into his pyjamas and climbed into his welcoming bed, snuggling down in to the cosy blankets. He thought sleep would take hold as soon as he lay down, but for some reason, it didn't. Arnold couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this tired, but for some strange reason, he couldn't sleep. Half and hour of tossing and turning later, he gave up and lay still on his back, watching the deep grey clouds sailing calmly across the evening sky through his skylight.
Then the thoughts came again. No! He was NOT going to think about it! He tried desperately to think of something else, anything else! He searched his mind for anything to divert his attention from... her. Erm, schoolwork? What had he been doing in Friday's lessons... lets see, math? Hmm, long division. Mr Simmons had written a sum on the board, then he picked Helga to answer it and... Ok fine! I'll try something else! What was next? It was Math then... English! That's right. We were studying 18th Century Prose... we'd just started reading a book called... called... oh I can't remember! Helga had been throwing spitballs at me so much I couldn't concentrate! Argh! Alright so what else is there besides schoolwork? Think Arnold, think! Erm... baseball? Yeah, er, hey! I haven't knocked anyone out recently! That's an achievement right?! Maybe I'm finally cured of my Dangerous Lumber?! But I did bean Helga about a month ago so maybe... AHH! This is getting ridiculous!
Arnold grabbed the pillow from behind his head and slammed it over his face in frustration. "Why can't I stop thinking about her?!" he spoke aloud. His head pounded painfully. This was too much!
It was now 8pm, and as Arnold wrestled with his mind, Helga still sat sombrely on the end of the dock, not moving once since Arnold had seen her there over an hour ago. The sun had set, but its light still stained the sky to the west. A cool evening breeze played with the blonde girl's hair as she watched night devour the city. Arnold would have liked this view, she thought. I like this view. And again she thought of him, had he even left her mind once in the 6 years they had know one another? No. He was always in her thoughts; sometimes even she was unaware of it. He had found a comfortable place at the front of her brain, and he was a part of who she was now. He was everything to her. She'd realised a while ago, that he was the best thing about her. She was nothing, in her mind, without him. Unconsciously she had made him the very basis of her existence, and without him, her world crumbled. She sighed deeply and put her locket away as she heard someone walking up to her, feet tapping along on the wooden boards of the dock.
"Hey Pheebs" she said without looking up.
"Hello Helga. Why are you sitting out here? Aren't you cold?" The petite Japanese girl's face showed concern for her best friend as she sat down next to her.
"Is it cold? I hadn't noticed." Sadness rang clear in her unusually weak voice. Phoebe picked up on that.
"What's wrong Helga?"
"Nothing's 'wrong' Phoebe." Helga growled back, folding her arms. She wasn't in the mood for another emotional outburst, so up came the walls again. "I'm just peachy!"
Phoebe looked down at her lap ashamedly. No one ever said being best friends with Helga G. Pataki was going to be easy. She then had a thought. Swallowing in preparation, she spoke the next words very cautiously.
"Is it Arnold?" Phoebe immediately braced for impact. She knew she was provoking a wild animal with those words.
"What?! Why would it be Arnold?! Are you crazy?! Why the heck would I care about that stupid Football Head?! You couldn't be further off the mark if you tried! Are you nuts?! I hate the little..." Phoebe and Helga looked at each other. "...Yeah." she sighed quietly. Phoebe knew, so what was the use in hiding it?
Phoebe could see the pain on Helga's face. She extended a comforting arm, resting a hand on Helga's shoulder. "Would you like to talk about it?" She asked sincerely.
"Not really, but you're gonna make me anyway." Helga smiled softly, Phoebe smiling back in response. Helga sighed deeply before beginning. She was going to tell another secret, two in the space of a day. This is not good, she thought, but she was too mentally tired to try and back out now.
"I told him." her voice was frail, defeated. She looked back down at her lap, and then at the mesmerizing grey water that swirled beneath them. "I told him everything Pheebs; the shrines, the poems, the fact that I've loved him since preschool! I blurted it all out like a crazed lunatic! I even kissed the poor guy!" Phoebe showed amazement in her expression. She was shocked, but she listened without interrupting. "Why?! Why?!" Hega's voice had taken on a dramatic and emotional tone, her hands exaggerating her words. "Why did I have to tell him?! Why couldn't I have just kept my big mouth shut?! I'm such a fool!" Tears threatened as her voice broke with the words. She wanted to scream in anger and frustration at herself, but she managed to hold it in. There was silence for a few moments while Helga composed herself, and this gave Phoebe a chance to take all of this in, processing it in her mind and formulating a response.
"How did he take it?" she asked softly, still cautious.
Helga resumed her slumped over position, the drama of her voice gone as fast as it had come. "He didn't believe me. I pour out my heart and bare my soul, but that dense Football Head doesn't believe me! He said I was just 'caught up in the heat of the moment' (which I was, but that's not the point!) and that I really hate him. Well I snapped didn't I! I went for the escape route he provided and took everything I'd told him back, calling him a stupid Football Head and running off! I'm such a coward!" Helga frowned, the anger building up inside her, but it was aimed completely at her self. Everything was her fault, she had concluded, and she deserved this rejection. But she was grateful to have Phoebe there to talk to; at least she could be trusted.
"You're not a coward Helga." Phoebe reassured in her small voice. Helga looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but soon replaced it with a little smile that said 'thank you'. Phoebe understood.
They both looked out across the water, Elk Island was barely visible now. The sky was dark and cloudy. They couldn't see any stars. The night air was cool as it whipped around the two girls, and the gentle sloshing of the lake was almost relaxing.
"It's getting late, perhaps we should go home?" Phoebe suggested, standing up.
Helga sighed. "Yeah..."
They walked in silence, reflecting on their earlier conversation. Phoebe knew Helga wasn't in the mood for talking, and she respected that.
They reached Phoebe's house first.
"Helga?" she began before opening the door. Helga looked up at her. "You should talk to him."
"Oh? And what would I say?" she spoke distantly. "I can't Phoebe. He'd only hate me more than he already does, and I don't think I could deal with that. I've made my move, and if he wants to play, it's his turn."
Phoebe nodded. "Okay Helga. Goodnight."
"Goodnight Pheebs, and... thanks." Phoebe smiled and then opened her front door.
"Good luck Helga." she whispered as she closed the door behind her.
By the time Arnold reached the Boarding House it was about 7pm. His eyes were sore from lack of sleep, and he suffered from a headache. Sleeping was the only thing he wanted to do right then. He smiled at the thought of his soft bed and warm blankets.
Opening the large green door, he weaved passed the animals that escape the house (something that happened so regularly, he'd gotten used to it and didn't even notice anymore). Grandpa was soon at his side to welcome the hero home.
"Hey there Short Man!" he beamed, but then his expression changed. "Oh you look terrible Arnold! What happened? Get hit by a truck? Ooh I'm just kiddin', but you do look awful." Arnold wasn't too impressed.
"Thanks Grandpa" he said sarcastically. "I'm really tired, I'm going bed ok? Good night Grandpa" And with that, Arnold slowly made his way up the stairs, leaving a slightly concerned Phil watching him ascend. As soon as Arnold was out of sight, Phil chuckled lightly to himself.
"Too much excitement for the poor kid. Little guy's all tuckered out." He smiled and turned around, headed for the kitchen, soon to be splattered with fruit innards. "Oh Pookie! Not watermelon again!"
Arnold changed into his pyjamas and climbed into his welcoming bed, snuggling down in to the cosy blankets. He thought sleep would take hold as soon as he lay down, but for some reason, it didn't. Arnold couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this tired, but for some strange reason, he couldn't sleep. Half and hour of tossing and turning later, he gave up and lay still on his back, watching the deep grey clouds sailing calmly across the evening sky through his skylight.
Then the thoughts came again. No! He was NOT going to think about it! He tried desperately to think of something else, anything else! He searched his mind for anything to divert his attention from... her. Erm, schoolwork? What had he been doing in Friday's lessons... lets see, math? Hmm, long division. Mr Simmons had written a sum on the board, then he picked Helga to answer it and... Ok fine! I'll try something else! What was next? It was Math then... English! That's right. We were studying 18th Century Prose... we'd just started reading a book called... called... oh I can't remember! Helga had been throwing spitballs at me so much I couldn't concentrate! Argh! Alright so what else is there besides schoolwork? Think Arnold, think! Erm... baseball? Yeah, er, hey! I haven't knocked anyone out recently! That's an achievement right?! Maybe I'm finally cured of my Dangerous Lumber?! But I did bean Helga about a month ago so maybe... AHH! This is getting ridiculous!
Arnold grabbed the pillow from behind his head and slammed it over his face in frustration. "Why can't I stop thinking about her?!" he spoke aloud. His head pounded painfully. This was too much!
It was now 8pm, and as Arnold wrestled with his mind, Helga still sat sombrely on the end of the dock, not moving once since Arnold had seen her there over an hour ago. The sun had set, but its light still stained the sky to the west. A cool evening breeze played with the blonde girl's hair as she watched night devour the city. Arnold would have liked this view, she thought. I like this view. And again she thought of him, had he even left her mind once in the 6 years they had know one another? No. He was always in her thoughts; sometimes even she was unaware of it. He had found a comfortable place at the front of her brain, and he was a part of who she was now. He was everything to her. She'd realised a while ago, that he was the best thing about her. She was nothing, in her mind, without him. Unconsciously she had made him the very basis of her existence, and without him, her world crumbled. She sighed deeply and put her locket away as she heard someone walking up to her, feet tapping along on the wooden boards of the dock.
"Hey Pheebs" she said without looking up.
"Hello Helga. Why are you sitting out here? Aren't you cold?" The petite Japanese girl's face showed concern for her best friend as she sat down next to her.
"Is it cold? I hadn't noticed." Sadness rang clear in her unusually weak voice. Phoebe picked up on that.
"What's wrong Helga?"
"Nothing's 'wrong' Phoebe." Helga growled back, folding her arms. She wasn't in the mood for another emotional outburst, so up came the walls again. "I'm just peachy!"
Phoebe looked down at her lap ashamedly. No one ever said being best friends with Helga G. Pataki was going to be easy. She then had a thought. Swallowing in preparation, she spoke the next words very cautiously.
"Is it Arnold?" Phoebe immediately braced for impact. She knew she was provoking a wild animal with those words.
"What?! Why would it be Arnold?! Are you crazy?! Why the heck would I care about that stupid Football Head?! You couldn't be further off the mark if you tried! Are you nuts?! I hate the little..." Phoebe and Helga looked at each other. "...Yeah." she sighed quietly. Phoebe knew, so what was the use in hiding it?
Phoebe could see the pain on Helga's face. She extended a comforting arm, resting a hand on Helga's shoulder. "Would you like to talk about it?" She asked sincerely.
"Not really, but you're gonna make me anyway." Helga smiled softly, Phoebe smiling back in response. Helga sighed deeply before beginning. She was going to tell another secret, two in the space of a day. This is not good, she thought, but she was too mentally tired to try and back out now.
"I told him." her voice was frail, defeated. She looked back down at her lap, and then at the mesmerizing grey water that swirled beneath them. "I told him everything Pheebs; the shrines, the poems, the fact that I've loved him since preschool! I blurted it all out like a crazed lunatic! I even kissed the poor guy!" Phoebe showed amazement in her expression. She was shocked, but she listened without interrupting. "Why?! Why?!" Hega's voice had taken on a dramatic and emotional tone, her hands exaggerating her words. "Why did I have to tell him?! Why couldn't I have just kept my big mouth shut?! I'm such a fool!" Tears threatened as her voice broke with the words. She wanted to scream in anger and frustration at herself, but she managed to hold it in. There was silence for a few moments while Helga composed herself, and this gave Phoebe a chance to take all of this in, processing it in her mind and formulating a response.
"How did he take it?" she asked softly, still cautious.
Helga resumed her slumped over position, the drama of her voice gone as fast as it had come. "He didn't believe me. I pour out my heart and bare my soul, but that dense Football Head doesn't believe me! He said I was just 'caught up in the heat of the moment' (which I was, but that's not the point!) and that I really hate him. Well I snapped didn't I! I went for the escape route he provided and took everything I'd told him back, calling him a stupid Football Head and running off! I'm such a coward!" Helga frowned, the anger building up inside her, but it was aimed completely at her self. Everything was her fault, she had concluded, and she deserved this rejection. But she was grateful to have Phoebe there to talk to; at least she could be trusted.
"You're not a coward Helga." Phoebe reassured in her small voice. Helga looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but soon replaced it with a little smile that said 'thank you'. Phoebe understood.
They both looked out across the water, Elk Island was barely visible now. The sky was dark and cloudy. They couldn't see any stars. The night air was cool as it whipped around the two girls, and the gentle sloshing of the lake was almost relaxing.
"It's getting late, perhaps we should go home?" Phoebe suggested, standing up.
Helga sighed. "Yeah..."
They walked in silence, reflecting on their earlier conversation. Phoebe knew Helga wasn't in the mood for talking, and she respected that.
They reached Phoebe's house first.
"Helga?" she began before opening the door. Helga looked up at her. "You should talk to him."
"Oh? And what would I say?" she spoke distantly. "I can't Phoebe. He'd only hate me more than he already does, and I don't think I could deal with that. I've made my move, and if he wants to play, it's his turn."
Phoebe nodded. "Okay Helga. Goodnight."
"Goodnight Pheebs, and... thanks." Phoebe smiled and then opened her front door.
"Good luck Helga." she whispered as she closed the door behind her.