Author's Note- Thank you so much for all the reviews, everyone! I'm sorry for the wait on this chapter. By the way, not long after I posted chapter one, I added a portion to it- I had originally left off with Helga walking down the hall, but then I added Arnold's view on things from that morning. So, before we read this chapter, please make sure you read chapter one in its entirety. I'll try to avoid confusing anyone in the future…

Disclaimer- It may come as a shock to some, but I do not own Hey Arnold!

Part Two: See Me Running

Helga sat at her usual lunch table with a bowl of tapioca pudding in front of her. She dragged her plastic spoon through the pudding, pushing it all to the left side and then to the right, making little ridges and designs on the top of it, then smoothing it out. Anything but eating it- even her favorite didn't seem appetizing at the moment. Helga wasn't one to sit around and feel sorry for herself, but she couldn't seem to help it today. Emotions that she had been hiding and denying to herself for years were finally making themselves known and impossible to ignore. She was both hopeful and terrified that someone would notice this, but she was more terrified, and so she snapped at anyone who attempted to speak to her. Even Phoebe, who meant well and genuinely cared about Helga, couldn't get through to her. Phoebe sat across from her best friend now, picking at her lunch and shifting around in the uncomfortable silence. She had a thick book out, and every so often she would pick it up and try to read, but after a page or two she would stop and snap the book shut with a small sound of frustration. Helga knew that Phoebe wanted to talk to her, wanted to know what was going on, but was uncertain how to begin. That suited Helga just fine, she did not want to talk.

Arnold had spent his entire lunch watching Helga. The fact that something was bothering her was a foregone conclusion, and he watched her stir her pudding around listlessly. He needed to go talk to her. Every part of him was screaming to get up and see what was bothering Helga, but some tiny corner of his brain was afraid of what her reaction might be, or what she might say, or… But how could he be afraid to talk to Helga? This was ridiculous. Gerald had long since given up trying to get his friend's attention, and instead talked to Sid, who was at the table across from them. Every so often, he'd turn to his best friend, concerned and curious, but Arnold didn't respond, he just sat, glancing at Helga out of the corner of his eye. Finally, Gerald cleared his throat and Arnold, lost in his thoughts, jumped half out of his chair, but didn't sit back down in it. "I have to go talk to someone, Gerald. I'll be right back." Arnold began to walk over to Helga's table slowly, leaving Gerald, his mouth still open with the question he had been about to ask, to shake his head and wonder…

Helga saw Arnold walking over to her, looking right at her. Instantly, her heart began to race. She both wanted to open up to Arnold and was petrified to- who knew what she would say? Once she started talking, or even yelling, at Arnold, she couldn't seem to stop. Take the Fti building, for example- she had let herself open up there, and look how well that had turned out. Arnold came to her table and sat down right beside her, two seats away from Phoebe, who seemed to be both unsurprised and shocked at the same time. She listened raptly while pretending to read her book.

Arnold sounded both nervous and concerned. "Hi, Helga."

"What do you want, football head?" Helga snapped, meaning for her words to sound angry, and they did, but there was a certain tremble to them as well- a tremble caused by shock and sadness and love all rolled into one. Arnold did not fail to notice this, and he sat, staring at her. Helga wondered why he didn't begin to talk sooner, but Arnold was actually thinking of what to say next- he needed to carefully choose his first words, because if they rubbed Helga the wrong way, any hopes of a conversation were shot.

"Is… is something wrong, Helga? Are you having a bad day?"

"Oh, no Arnold, everything just wonderful. Wonderfully fine. Peaches and cream."

"Helga…"

Helga didn't answer, but instead looked down at her pudding, which had an elaborate swirl drawn on top. The spoon that had drawn it was retracing it, although its movements were a little jerky and shaky. Phoebe had gotten up and slipped away softly, hoping that Helga would open up to Arnold more without her presence.

"Come on, Helga. You walked in this morning angry and soaking wet. You haven't talked to anyone all day, even your best friend. And you're not eating, either."
Helga felt those beautiful green eyes, the ones she loved so much, boring into the top of her head, which she carefully kept looking downward at the pudding, the floor… anything but the boy those eyes belonged to. But something about them, about his stare, forced her to look up, to meet his eyes. And she felt everything that she had tried to do to keep people out, every wall she had built around herself, begin to crumble. Something about Arnold had always put her on the edge of that. Then, Arnold's gaze looked a little concerned. Steady, Helga, steady! She opened her mouth, ready to spill everything, wanting to spill everything.

"I woke up this morning and… and…" Suddenly, Helga realized what she was doing. Who knew what she would end up telling Arnold? Panic consumed her, pushing out any room for logic. She took a deep breath and screamed, "Why do you have to always go prying into my life, football head? Maybe I don't want your help or goody-goody advice. How do you know that there's anything wrong? Why can't you just leave me alone and go try your optimism on someone else, Arnoldo?"

"Because you're the one that needs it, Helga." The words, uttered softly, without a trace of anger, pushed Helga even farther over the edge. He just wouldn't give up. The panic overtook her again, and she took a spoonful of tapioca and shot it at Arnold, hitting him square in the chest.

"I DO NOT need your stupid advice, Arnold! Now just go away." Arnold got up and walked out of the cafeteria to the boy's bathroom without another word, wearing an unreadable expression. Helga left soon after, heading out to the deserted playground, because she knew that her scowl would crumble any minute. She just couldn't believe herself- she had really blown it this time.

Neither had realized that the cafeteria had gone silent during their argument, and everyone in the lunchroom had witnessed the whole thing. And as Arnold scrubbed tapioca off his shirt in the bathroom and Helga sat crumbled on a swing outside, a soft buzz of curious chatter filled the lunch room, and there was not a person who did not wonder about Helga and Arnold and what they were to each other…