A/N: Thank you again for the kind, and occasionally strange reviews! Much
appreciated :)
Just as Helga had predicted, the day was going by at a snail's pace. She could almost swear that the clock that hung above the blackboard had stopped, even though the second hand still ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick. Hey, did it just tick backwards?! Oh for Pete's sake Helga ol' girl, you're seeing things now! I guess this is the wondrous effect of sleep deprivation! Well, only 10 minutes until lunch... Tick. Tick. Tick. She groaned in annoyance at the clock. Just ignore it she told herself as she turned away, although she realised immediately that she would have been better off staring at the clock than what her eyes fell upon. Arnold.
'You actually hate me, don't you?' That sentence had been on repeat in her mind since the moment those words had fallen from his mouth. 'Of course I hate you, you stupid Football Head! And don't you ever forget it! Ever!'. Idiot! You complete moron! 'No, I love you!' see, simple! Just four simple words. And why didn't you even give them a thought when he asked you? Oh, that right, because you're just too darn proud to admit to the truth! Oh Arnold! My little Football Headed love God, my flaxen haired angel, keeper of my heart...
She sighed quietly to herself as she stared dreamily at the back of Arnold's head. Her mind was suddenly on autopilot as thoughts of love consumed her. But then reality hit hard and her expression changed again. She felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness wash over her like an icy wave. That was the perfect metaphor for her thoughts; no sooner had a wave broken, another was there to take its place. A storm was raging and she couldn't stop it.
But he doesn't love me. Did you seriously think he would? I mean, 6 years of torment and what? You were expecting him to just turn right around and say 'I love you too Helga'. Yeah right! Man I'm pathetic! I'm a fool! I deserve everything I get, and I certainly don't deserve Arnold. So now what? I just sit here staring blankly at that beautiful Football Head of his... the golden, gravity defying, unruly hair that parts so perfectly atop the soft sun-kissed skin of his neck, framed by the gentle touch of his burgundy checked shirt collar, so uniquely, and complimented by the sea green of his sweater that brings out the colour of his amazing emerald eyes that...
"BRRRIIINNNG" Helga shot up in her seat startled by the bell for lunch. Stupid bell!
She watched silently as the room cleared. What are they in such a hurry for anyway? Haven't they ever eaten before? She rolled her eyes. Pitiful!
Mr Simmons could still be heard rummaging around with papers on his desk as Helga slowly made for the doorway.
"Helga? Are you alright? You didn't seem to be acting like your extra special self today. Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Oh great! Now Simmons is feeling sorry for me! Do I really look that pathetic?
"No, I'm just peachy thanks." she growled as she left the room. She found Phoebe by the lockers and they walked to the cafeteria together.
"Did your mother forget to pack your lunch again Helga?" Phoebe enquired in her tiny voice as they sat down at their usual table. She'd noticed that Helga wasn't carrying a lunchbox. Helga wasn't really paying attention though. She seems awfully distant, Phoebe thought.
"Hmm? Oh er, yeah... but I'm not that hungry..."
"...and my man Fuzzy Slippers knows this guy at the arcade who... Hey Arnold! Arnold? Yo bud, you in there?" Gerald was facing similar problems over at his table. He waved a hand in front of a dazed Arnold in hopes of waking him from deep thought.
"Huh? Oh, sorry Gerald. Guess I must have zoned out for a minute there. What were you saying?" Arnold fixed his eyes back on his best friend, but it wasn't long before they wandered off again.
"I was sayin'... Look, I'll tell ya about it later, like, when you're paying attention! Arnold, what's up man?" Gerald's tone changed from frustration to concern for his friend. What is the matter with him?
"Er, nothing Gerald. There's just someone I've gotta talk to... Back in a minute okay?" Arnold rose from the table without waiting for an answer. His eyes were fixed on his destination as he began to walk across the cafeteria. Gerald's eyes followed him as he walked, and soon realised where he was headed, but he shrugged it off, turning back to his lunch.
"Must need Phoebe's help with something." Gerald mused as he took a bite from his sandwich. Now he was the one with a dazed expression.
Helga's was sat at the table with her back to Arnold, but Phoebe saw him approaching and decided to make an exit.
"I just remembered something, er, important I have to do... I'll see you later Helga." Phoebe got up and left before Helga could protest.
"What? Hey Phoebe where are you... Arnold!" She was cut short and startled by the sudden appearance of Arnold in the seat next to her.
"Er, hi Helga" he greeted sheepishly.
"What do you want Football Head?" she tried her hardest to sound like her normal, nasty self, but her voice seemed weaker than usual. Her mood was forced and they both knew it.
"I was just wondering if you were okay? You look really tired and I guess I was worried about you..." he fidgeted in his seat and looked down at his hands uncomfortably. Helga smiled inwardly at this, swooning. Arnold, worried about me!
"I'm fine Arnoldo" she growled sarcastically. Then she had an idea. "Why do you care anyway?"
"I, I don't like to see people, er, upset... I just thought that maybe I could...erm...help you out? I mean, if you wanted to talk about anything..." he smiled awkwardly at her. She was enjoying this! She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.
"Uh huh, and what makes you think I'd tell you anything Football Head? I don't need you to feel sorry for me! You've done enough harm already!" Helga stopped suddenly and realised what she'd said, hoping that he hadn't heard or would just ignore it. She could feel her heart beat quicken.
"What do you mean by that?" he looked at her curiously, visibly hurt by her words.
Helga suddenly felt his eyes and question burning into her. Oh great! Now what am I supposed to say? You broke my heart?! Think Helga think!
"I... nothing! I didn't mean anything... Crimeny! What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?! Just get lost Football Head!" Phew! Touch down Helga!
Arnold sighed defeated. Why couldn't she just tell him what the matter was? Why was it so difficult for her? Everyone else would come to Arnold with their problems, or at least open up to him if he asked if he could help. But not Helga. She was always so closed, so hostile. He'd never understood her, but he wanted to. He looked deeply into her angry eyes as he thought. Where are you Helga? Why won't you let me in? I know you're there, and I promise I'll find you again. I promise.
Helga was becoming uncomfortable under his gaze. "Hey Arnold! I said get lost! Are you deaf?!" Why was that question so familiar? Then he remembered, she'd asked him that on the rooftop, after she'd kissed him and left him dumbstruck. 'I'm confused, did you just say you loved me?' She'd sounded so desperate, hysterical even, when she replied, 'Are you deaf?!'... The first words she had spoken after their lips had parted. He could feel his cheeks burning again.
"Sorry..." Arnold mumbled as he turned to leave. Yet another battle lost...
Just as Helga had predicted, the day was going by at a snail's pace. She could almost swear that the clock that hung above the blackboard had stopped, even though the second hand still ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick. Hey, did it just tick backwards?! Oh for Pete's sake Helga ol' girl, you're seeing things now! I guess this is the wondrous effect of sleep deprivation! Well, only 10 minutes until lunch... Tick. Tick. Tick. She groaned in annoyance at the clock. Just ignore it she told herself as she turned away, although she realised immediately that she would have been better off staring at the clock than what her eyes fell upon. Arnold.
'You actually hate me, don't you?' That sentence had been on repeat in her mind since the moment those words had fallen from his mouth. 'Of course I hate you, you stupid Football Head! And don't you ever forget it! Ever!'. Idiot! You complete moron! 'No, I love you!' see, simple! Just four simple words. And why didn't you even give them a thought when he asked you? Oh, that right, because you're just too darn proud to admit to the truth! Oh Arnold! My little Football Headed love God, my flaxen haired angel, keeper of my heart...
She sighed quietly to herself as she stared dreamily at the back of Arnold's head. Her mind was suddenly on autopilot as thoughts of love consumed her. But then reality hit hard and her expression changed again. She felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness wash over her like an icy wave. That was the perfect metaphor for her thoughts; no sooner had a wave broken, another was there to take its place. A storm was raging and she couldn't stop it.
But he doesn't love me. Did you seriously think he would? I mean, 6 years of torment and what? You were expecting him to just turn right around and say 'I love you too Helga'. Yeah right! Man I'm pathetic! I'm a fool! I deserve everything I get, and I certainly don't deserve Arnold. So now what? I just sit here staring blankly at that beautiful Football Head of his... the golden, gravity defying, unruly hair that parts so perfectly atop the soft sun-kissed skin of his neck, framed by the gentle touch of his burgundy checked shirt collar, so uniquely, and complimented by the sea green of his sweater that brings out the colour of his amazing emerald eyes that...
"BRRRIIINNNG" Helga shot up in her seat startled by the bell for lunch. Stupid bell!
She watched silently as the room cleared. What are they in such a hurry for anyway? Haven't they ever eaten before? She rolled her eyes. Pitiful!
Mr Simmons could still be heard rummaging around with papers on his desk as Helga slowly made for the doorway.
"Helga? Are you alright? You didn't seem to be acting like your extra special self today. Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Oh great! Now Simmons is feeling sorry for me! Do I really look that pathetic?
"No, I'm just peachy thanks." she growled as she left the room. She found Phoebe by the lockers and they walked to the cafeteria together.
"Did your mother forget to pack your lunch again Helga?" Phoebe enquired in her tiny voice as they sat down at their usual table. She'd noticed that Helga wasn't carrying a lunchbox. Helga wasn't really paying attention though. She seems awfully distant, Phoebe thought.
"Hmm? Oh er, yeah... but I'm not that hungry..."
"...and my man Fuzzy Slippers knows this guy at the arcade who... Hey Arnold! Arnold? Yo bud, you in there?" Gerald was facing similar problems over at his table. He waved a hand in front of a dazed Arnold in hopes of waking him from deep thought.
"Huh? Oh, sorry Gerald. Guess I must have zoned out for a minute there. What were you saying?" Arnold fixed his eyes back on his best friend, but it wasn't long before they wandered off again.
"I was sayin'... Look, I'll tell ya about it later, like, when you're paying attention! Arnold, what's up man?" Gerald's tone changed from frustration to concern for his friend. What is the matter with him?
"Er, nothing Gerald. There's just someone I've gotta talk to... Back in a minute okay?" Arnold rose from the table without waiting for an answer. His eyes were fixed on his destination as he began to walk across the cafeteria. Gerald's eyes followed him as he walked, and soon realised where he was headed, but he shrugged it off, turning back to his lunch.
"Must need Phoebe's help with something." Gerald mused as he took a bite from his sandwich. Now he was the one with a dazed expression.
Helga's was sat at the table with her back to Arnold, but Phoebe saw him approaching and decided to make an exit.
"I just remembered something, er, important I have to do... I'll see you later Helga." Phoebe got up and left before Helga could protest.
"What? Hey Phoebe where are you... Arnold!" She was cut short and startled by the sudden appearance of Arnold in the seat next to her.
"Er, hi Helga" he greeted sheepishly.
"What do you want Football Head?" she tried her hardest to sound like her normal, nasty self, but her voice seemed weaker than usual. Her mood was forced and they both knew it.
"I was just wondering if you were okay? You look really tired and I guess I was worried about you..." he fidgeted in his seat and looked down at his hands uncomfortably. Helga smiled inwardly at this, swooning. Arnold, worried about me!
"I'm fine Arnoldo" she growled sarcastically. Then she had an idea. "Why do you care anyway?"
"I, I don't like to see people, er, upset... I just thought that maybe I could...erm...help you out? I mean, if you wanted to talk about anything..." he smiled awkwardly at her. She was enjoying this! She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.
"Uh huh, and what makes you think I'd tell you anything Football Head? I don't need you to feel sorry for me! You've done enough harm already!" Helga stopped suddenly and realised what she'd said, hoping that he hadn't heard or would just ignore it. She could feel her heart beat quicken.
"What do you mean by that?" he looked at her curiously, visibly hurt by her words.
Helga suddenly felt his eyes and question burning into her. Oh great! Now what am I supposed to say? You broke my heart?! Think Helga think!
"I... nothing! I didn't mean anything... Crimeny! What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?! Just get lost Football Head!" Phew! Touch down Helga!
Arnold sighed defeated. Why couldn't she just tell him what the matter was? Why was it so difficult for her? Everyone else would come to Arnold with their problems, or at least open up to him if he asked if he could help. But not Helga. She was always so closed, so hostile. He'd never understood her, but he wanted to. He looked deeply into her angry eyes as he thought. Where are you Helga? Why won't you let me in? I know you're there, and I promise I'll find you again. I promise.
Helga was becoming uncomfortable under his gaze. "Hey Arnold! I said get lost! Are you deaf?!" Why was that question so familiar? Then he remembered, she'd asked him that on the rooftop, after she'd kissed him and left him dumbstruck. 'I'm confused, did you just say you loved me?' She'd sounded so desperate, hysterical even, when she replied, 'Are you deaf?!'... The first words she had spoken after their lips had parted. He could feel his cheeks burning again.
"Sorry..." Arnold mumbled as he turned to leave. Yet another battle lost...