Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! Or any of the fancy quotes I used…or any part of the french song "Les Feuilles Mortes".
Chapter Eight: Avec MoiNothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love. –Charlie Brown.
The course of love never did run smooth – William Shakespeare.
Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you.', Mature love says: 'I need you because I love you.' – Eric Fromm.
"I think Helga's sleeping," Arnold whispered, "we'll have to try to be quiet."
He closed the door behind him and led her to the small kitchen in the dark room. He opened the mini ice box and took out a bottle of gingerale and opened it. Some accidentally spilled on Cecile and he clumsily took a napkin and started to dab her dress.
"Oh Arnold," she giggled. She was getting the wrong idea.
"What?" he mumbled softly.
She unzipped his pants and kissed his lips and giggled.
"Wait, whoaa there," he snapped in a harsh whisper. He jumped back. "What are you trying to do?"
"I thought…"
"You thought wrong! Aachh," he pulled his fly back up. "Can't you please be quiet?"
"Why? Isn't this why you brought me in? To make love?" She kissed him.
"No! You said you were thirsty, so I decided to bring you in for a drink! We're both pretty drunk as it is…"
"But…" she put her hand on his chest. "Je t'aime."
"Nah uh…" he was still whispering. He took her hand off his shirt and led her out the door. "Look, Cecile, you're great and all, but I really can't do this to Helga. I don't care how much you like me…but it's over. You're just going to have to go home," he said in a harsh whisper and closed the door.
He looked over at Helga sleeping across the room and sighed.
***
Helga tried to open the door to François's apartment, but it was locked. She sighed and crossed her arms. Now what?
Then a man with lots of keys tied to his belt came walking along.
"Oh, Monsieur…" Helga said politely. "Avez-vous une clef à cette pièce?" [do you have a key to this room?]
"Pourquoi?" he asked suspiciously.
"Parce-que c'est la pièce de mon fiance, et moi semblent avoir perdu ma copie de la clef." She showed him her engagement ring. [Because this is my fiance's room, and I seem to have lost my copy of the key.]
"D'accord." He smiled gratefully and took out the key for the apartment and gave it to her.
"Merci."
Helga put the brass key into the doorknob and turned. She opened the door and walked in with her bag still in her hand. "François?" she wondered aloud. He probably wasn't even home.
She smelled smoke coming from his bedroom. Curiously, she walked in and pushed the door open to see François half naked lying in his bed smoking a cigarette with some french prostitute lying next to him.
Helga gasped.
François's eyes widened and sat up in bed. "Helga! Oh, um, I can explain…this, this is not what it seems…" he pleaded.
Helga's mouth was still hanging open and she shook her head. "No…I don't believe you!"
"Please, Helga! Don't go!" he called as she ran out of the room and out of the door. "BE SENSIBLE!" he roared.
She had already left.
"Ah, stupid bitch…I guess we can kiss our citizenship good-bye, cherie…" he groaned and fell back into bed.
Tears streamed down Helga's cheeks again. "Damnit," she sniffed, "how could you be so stupid Helga?" She wiped her tear with her index finger. "Oh well," she sighed, "it would've ended anyway…"
Now where was she going to stay? It's not like she could go up to Arnold. It'll be a cold day in hell when she apologizes to him after what he did to her. Well, maybe she could go back to the hotel room and take some extra money or something and she'd go stay somewhere else. Yeah. That's what she'll do. She figured she would just go into the hotel room and take her plane ticket and leave.
That was simple enough.
***
Arnold listened to the slow french songs playing in the bookstore. He knew them well. Songs of love, and despair.
C'est une chanson qui nous ressemble
Toi, tu m'aimais et je t'aimais
Et nous vivions tous deux ensemble
Toi qui m'aimais, moi qui t'aimais
Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s'aiment
Tout doucement, sans faire de bruit
Et la mer efface sur le sable
Les pas des amants désunis.
He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.
Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle,
Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi
Mais mon amour silencieux et fidèle
Sourit toujours et remercie la vie
Je t'aimais tant, tu étais si jolie,
Comment veux-tu que je t'oublie?
***
Luckily, Helga still had the key to the room in her bag. She opened the door and cautiously walked in. I hope Arnold's not in here… that would not be good. When she was ten steps inside the hotel room, she saw no sign of Arnold. Whew.
She walked around and pondered about where the plane tickets could be. Then she noticed the bouquet of flowers all crushed on the floor and the petals scattered on the floor. Her hand pressed on her chest as her lips pouted. Those were probably for her. She could guess because of the arrangement of roses and daisies. He knew that she liked those flowers.
She bent over and smelled the fresh scent and sighed. Her eyes wandered around the room some more and saw her letter crumbled up next to the trash can. It's nothing, she thought to herself. Don't get hysterical, Helga…maybe those flowers weren't for you. Maybe they were for Lila…
But then again, who ever said Lila liked the same exact flowers Helga did? She couldn't stand being in the room any longer. So she rushed out the door without even getting the plane ticket or any extra money.
When she got out of the door, she realized that she left the key inside. "Aw crap," she muttered and sighed.
***
Arnold hated the fact that he was lonely and alone in Paris. Who is alone in Paris? No one. Only stupid people like him. It seemed that everyone who walked by him was with a family, or with their girlfriend holding hands…
AaRgghh!
He walked out of the bookstore with his hands in his pockets.
"This is crap…" he muttered. "Paris is crap."
He walked down the gloomy streets and help his jacket closer to his body. The day was turning into night, and he was freezing. Even though he was cold and frustrated, he couldn't help thinking about Helga. Where on earth could she be?
Well, in Paris, obviously…
But, well, what ever happened to her and Francois? Not that he cared or anything…but…he just couldn't help wondering.
Then it began to rain. He pulled his jacket over his head and began to quickly run to the hotel.
***
"Oh no…" Helga wailed. She was not prepared for rain. She looked through her bag for her book. Maybe she could use it as some shelter or whatever. "No, Noo.." she mumered.
She lost her book.
"Agh, well, I could've guessed the ending anyway…" she sighed. "Now where am I going to go?"
Suddenly she remembered that Cecile lived in Paris. Maybe she could bunk in with her. Right? Even though bunking with Cecile would be a last resort. But then again, maybe Cecile could give her a number of a friend she could bunk with. Right? She looked around for a phone booth somewhere. Phone Booths always had big books of numbers.
She walked around aimlessly and then caught eye of a phone booth. Eureka! Quickly she raced inside the phone booth. She flipped through the pages and found a Montad (let's pretend that's her last name) residence in Paris. She found some loose change in her pockets and stuck them in the phone's slot and frantically dialed the number.
"Bonjour?" asked a calm voice.
"Cecile?"
"Helga?" she asked in amazement.
"Look, Cecile, you're the last person I would ever call for help. But, um, do you know some place I could stay?" her voice cracked as she held back her tears.
***
Arnold knew something was different once he walked into the hotel room. Just the way it felt when he walked inside. It was strange. Had Helga been in here? No, it couldn't be. Why would she want to come in the hotel room after claiming she'd leave him forever? She had no business being in the hotel room. Right? She's out being happy with what's-his-name.
Suddenly Arnold fell on the carpeted floor. He tripped over something on the floor. After rubbing his elbow that he had fallen on top of, he looked back at what he had tripped over and found Helga's book.
He sat up and knew that Helga had been inside afterall and carelessly dropped the book in the room. Or had it been intentional? No, he thought. Helga isn't like that. She can't admit things very well. Too stubborn. Well, if it wasn't intentional…maybe it's a sign.
He opened the book and began to read it. He found himself reading it for the rest of the day.
To think that she actually risked her life just to save Jean-Claude's. She should have let him die in the jail cells. How stupid she was. She's not in love with him. He betrayed her an nth amount of times. It was all so sad. Now she was living a rut. Who knew where Yves was now.
Oh, those good times they had…
***
"Thanks," Helga murmered, rubbing her arm.
"C'est no problem," said Cecile happily. "After all, Paris is not the place to be alone." She smiled.
I can't believe I'm here, Helga thought. This is so stupid. Why'd I even call her? She's with Arnold…wouldn't this get weird? I mean, what if she asks me about his favorite food or something?
Cecile got the bed in the guest room all situated properly. It had a nice blue bed line and large blue blanket to go with it. The room was pretty empty, except for a closet, a shelf, a window, and a picture of the Notre Dame in a frame. It was also in a nice shade of pastel purple. Very, very nice.
Helga sat on the bed, sitting on her hands.
Cecile crossed her arms and stared at Helga and opened her mouth. "Helga…can I ask you something?"
Helga nodded, staring at the purple wall blankly.
"What happened to you and Arnold?"
Helga shrugged. You should know. By the way Helga was just like that, Cecile knew. She sighed and sat down on the other side of the bed. "I hope it's not because of me." She looked down. "Because you know it isn't true."
Cecile sighed. "That is ze promblem with you American girls. Always worrying…never noticing the obvious. Never taking life as it is. Always making things more complicated." She pulled her hand through her hair.
"Helga," said Cecile. "Don't think you know everything when you don't."
"What are you talking about?" Helga snapped.
"I just don't see any reason why you are not staying with Arnold. I know how much you adore him."
"I do not."
"Oh, there you go again, Helga, always twisting your mind." Cecile sighed again. "I knew that you and Arnold would be a perfect couple. After all, he could only think of you. I was just an infatuation."
"What do you know?" Helga said softly.
"You know, when I was in your hotel room with Arnold, I was getting a bit, how you say, carried away. So, Arnold urged me out. After that, we just never spoke again. Even though it is only a day. He said to me 'Cecile, I'm sorry, but we have to stop with this. I can't do this to Helga.'"
Don't believe her, Helga thought.
"But even before…all he could talk about was you. Trust me, Helga." Cecile looked down at her feet. "Ever since I saw him look at you the first time we met in the café. I knew that it was you he loves. I was just a temporary infatuation. Don't question how I know. I'm French and I live in Paris. And, after all, Paris is the city of love and French people are very romantic if you did not know before.
"So, I'll just leave you here. A bientot." Cecile got up and walked out the door, closing it behind her.
Helga groaned and fell back on the bed. What a rut she was in.
***
Finally, it was a new day. It seemed like an eternity to Helga and Arnold.
Well, at least it seemed that way to Arnold. He finished her book. Now he understood more about what Helga wanted…her little girlish fantasies. Girls are so complicated, he thought to himself. That's why you can never please them.
He was so alone. And in Paris, of all places. Is it even legal to be alone and lonely in Paris? Probably not. That's probably also the reason why he's so miserable. He just discovered the secret of Paris. You're either miserable, or you're happy. Isn't that why they wrote that book "Les Miserables"? That's right.
Okay, so Arnold was getting a bit too bored and began to think about the meaning of life. Was it to be miserable his whole life? And just when he thought he was in love, he really wasn't?
If only he could see her again.
But, you know, it's funny…at first Arnold thought that Helga was the one for him and then he thought that Cecile was for him. Especially after the first time he laid eyes on her in 4th grade. Now he wasn't quite sure who was the one for him. Wait, he thought again, I remember…that wasn't Cecile. He tried to gather that picture of her in his mind.
It hit him…those unmistakable eyes, those pouty lips…that hair. He remembers that hair…it was Helga. It was Helga. Oh, why hadn't he seen it before? He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. So there was a new twist. He thought that Helga was the one for him, then thought that Helga was the one for him and he still does think that Helga is the one for him.
How could he have been so stupid? So oblivious? Ugh, such a guy. [a/n: I'm not being sexist]
He groaned and shook his head in disbelief. If we were so meant for each other, why am I here, and she's not? She's probably eloped with Francois…and they're living unhappily ever after.
It almost seemed as if the last time he talked to her was five milleniums ago.
He couldn't go on living without her. Just not talking to her by itself was pain and agony. He had to go look for her. He had to take it as if it were a life/death situation. With that, he took his coat and walked out the hotel.
***
Helga thought long and hard about what Cecile said. She hated to admit that Cecile could be right. But Arnold broke the rules. She couldn't just let him get off easily. She had to make him squirm, make him want her more…make him really sorry. But then again, Helga might end up feeling the same way. She'd be really sorry.
Okay, so she knows that she is not with Francois. But she's still skeptical on whether Cecile is with Arnold or not.
Ah, well, she could ponder about that later. Now she was really hungry. She took her pink jacket and walked out of her cozy guest room. Maybe she'd go out to eat something and take her mind off Arnold. That's what she needed…she needed to take her mind off Arnold and get on with her life.
She'd spent too much of her life thinking about him. Perhaps it was time to change. Right?!
But once she thought about him, she just couldn't picture herself forgeting about him.
There was a very strong aroma downstairs that drew Helga down. Smelled like, mm, honey and, mmm, fresh bread, and mmm, fresh coffee.
Helga walked down to the kitchen and sat on the chair, admiring the food in front of her. (Keep in mind that in France, they don't have big breakfasts like what we americans would have. But it didn't matter to Helga, she was too hungry to even care.) Cecile put a slice of bread on Helga's plate and poured her a cup of hot chocolate.
Helga put honey on her bread and gobbled it down.
"Have you been thinking about what I said, Helga?" Cecile asked quietly, watching her eat another piece of bread.
Helga didn't bother to answer her. "Look," she said plainly. "What happens between me and Arnold is nothing that should concern you."
Cecile sighed, "you still are very narrow-minded, Helga. No romance in you what-so-ever."
"No," corrected Helga, "I am a romantic person. I just…I just don't like people butting into my personal life."
"Why are you so stubborn, Helga? I have never met anyone as difficile as you!"
"Je ne suis pas difficile!" Helga snapped back.
Cecile scoffed. "Really! Just tell me! Why do you hate me so much?"
"I don't hate you," Helga replied coldly with a sarcastic tone.
"Yes you do. Just tell me why."
"Or else what? Huh? Why do I have to tell you?"
"Tell me or else I can kick you out of my house!" Cecile shouted. "AND DON'T THINK I WON'T!"
"FINE!" Helga shouted back. "I HATE YOU BECAUSE YOU SLEPT WITH ARNOLD. BECAUSE YOU BROKE US APART BEFORE WE EVEN HAD A RELATIONSHIP. YOU MADE IT SO THAT WE COULD NEVER BE TOGETHER!" Helga realized she was standing up and her hands were pounding on the wooden table.
Cecile, who was originally standing, fell backwards into a chair. Her hand over her chest. "You think I slept with Arnold?"
"I know so."
"This is astonishing because I have not slept with Arnold." Cecile said softly, "as fake as it may seem to you Helga, I did not."
Helga looked at Cecile. "You…didn't?" Cecile shook her head. "But, I heard…"
Again, she shook her head. "Then you heard wrong. Sure, I wanted to. But Arnold pushed me out before anything could happen. Like I said, he said to me, 'I really can't do this to Helga' and pushed me out. I told you yesterday this same thing. But only now you can absorb it."
Helga groaned. "What do I do now? He must think I'm awful."
"I say you go find him, Helga."
***
Helga arrived at the hotel room and knocked on the door. "Arnold?" she mumbled. "Arnold?" she said louder, pounding on the door. "Please, Arnold, let me in! Please?" she felt a tear trickle down her cheek.
She knew that it was hopeless. He wouldn't open the door for her. She bit her lip and walked away.
***
Arnold was still walking around outside in the afternoon. It was still a gloomy day. All dark with a 50% chance of rain. He wasn't very happy. His goal in Paris was to find Helga. Yes, he had to find Helga. Well, wasn't that his goal in the morning when he came out here?
He knew that to get to Helga, he had to think like her. It's just that she was such a complicated person (as are all females). It would take a miracle for him to find her. All he wanted to do was just make peace with her. After all, she is his best friend. I mean, if she wanted to stay with Francois, then fine. It was no snot up his nose. If she wanted to be miserable, fine.
But the problem is that when Helga was miserable, he felt 10x worse than she did.
Then he saw a familiar guy walking with a girl around 10 feet away from him. Without any hesitation, he ran up to him and grabbed hold of him and saw that it wasn't Helga that was next to him. But that girl he caught him with in the restaurant.
Arnold glanced at her and then at Francois. "What are you doing with that girl?" he asked coldly.
"Well, she iz ma girlfriend," said Francois.
"What about Helga?" Arnold growled.
"Who?" he chuckled.
With that, Arnold drew back his fist and punched Francois square in the jaw. Francois stared at him in disbelief. He touched the inside of his mouth and felt blood and punched Arnold in the eye. "Damn you!" he cursed.
"What are you still doing with this thing when you have Helga? Huh? You should treat her with more respect!" snapped Arnold. "And not two-time her! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?! I MEAN, JUST USING HELGA LIKE THAT! YOU KNOW WHAT I HAVE DONE TO GET HER BACK FROM YOU? YOU NEVER DESERVED HER, AND YOU'RE STILL GOING OUT WITH THIS SKANK BEHIND HER BACK! NOW TELL ME WHERE SHE IS BEFORE I PUNCH YOU AGAIN!" Arnold shouted.
"Calm down you idiotic American," retorted Francois. "For your in-for-ma-shion she left me two days ago. So go harass another man…" He walked away with his girlfriend.
Arnold touched his throbbing left eye with his hand. The fact that he was punched in the eye just absorbed into his brain. So, Helga left him. She had more guts than he expected. He left to go look for her.
Arnold and Helga spent the rest of the day looking for each other. But they could not even get close. They weren't willing to give up hope though. No, not them. It was just so painful for them to know that the other was out there…in Paris, somewhere. The sensation they felt when they thought about each other was unbearable.
Helga went back to Cecile's house crying. She fell asleep crying as well. "It's hopeless," she cried. "Hopeless."
Arnold went back to the hotel room and stayed in bed with a pillow over his face.
It's been that way for two more days. One of those days, Helga stayed home moping around, and Arnold went outside to look. The other one, Helga went out and Arnold stayed in.
Oh, what they would do to see each other again. Have you ever felt like someone was the one? If you do, don't you know that feeling? The feeling like they're just perfect…like every day without them drags on forever. Every day you don't talk to them or see them you feel miserable, and you can't help but dream about them? You give them everything you can give…and your love just grows stronger.
Believe me: living without your true love is painful. Worse than having your chest torn apart with a swiss army knife. After time, the pain eases though it never disappears. This is the scenario for Arnold and Helga.
That night of the 5th day without each other, Helga decided to take a break from crying and walked outside in the darkness with the street lights leading her way.
She found herself in front of the Eiffel Tower. There were still some people walking around. And an old lady who was selling flowers.
She tried selling a rose to Helga. "C'est seulement cinq euros," she muttered. [it's only 5 euros]
"Non, c'est d'accord," Helga smiled, her voice shaking slightly. [No, it's okay]
The old lady saw the water in her eyes and smiled warmly and said in a mother-like tone, "Ici, ayez un pour libre." [Here, have one for free.] she gave her a crimson rose.
"Merci," said Helga. The lady walked away.
Helga looked up fondly at the Eiffel Tower, glowing brightly…glittering every 5 minutes. She let out a deep breath and walked towards it, heading to the top. It began to drizzle. She wasn't wearing much. Just jeans, a tee-shirt and a scarf around her neck. I don't know, it just seemed like it wouldn't rain.
Arnold had a strange urge to go to the Eiffel Tower. It was where Francois had shown up and it was the turning point of Helga and Arnold's friendship. That was when it all started to go downhill. So why not go check it out one last time and curse it?, he thought.
He wore a dress shirt, jeans, and a jacket and was off to the Eiffel Tower. When he was in front of it, he bought a rose from an old lady.
It began to rain harder.
Helga was wet and cold. That was how she felt. The people began to disappear and she still was at the top, staring out at the city lights. She leaned forward against the railing. The only thing holding her back from falling down.
She sighed, and twirled the rose around. "What have I gotten myself into?" she said softly, leaning her cheek on her hand. "I'm so stupid…why didn't I just admit it? Why did I have to make such stupid decisions. Why? Why? Why?" The rain drops pitter-pattered on the floor, and was the only thing she could hear.
"I'll tell you why," interjected Arnold from behind.
Helga turned around and saw Arnold and frowned slightly. She put her right hand on the railing, and her left hand, holding the rose, on her chest. "Arnold?" she muttered softly.
"It's because you're crazy about me. You just were feeling this wild, crazy emotion and you weren't sure what it was leading to…"
"You don't know what you're talking about," Helga stated plainly. She looked away from his pleading eyes.
"Helga, I know you," he said, approaching her carefully. "Why else would I be here at night when it's raining when no one else is here but you? It's fate, Helga. I know that you've been through a lot so far in this summer. And I have too. Think about it…when we make up, we can do what we've wanted to all along. Go to London…Italy…"
"How are you so sure we're going to make up?"
"Because it's this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide. I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do…" he was close enough to her that he could put a strand of her hair behind her ear. She looked at him earnestly.
"Oh my, Arnold," she mumbled, gently touching his black left eye. "What happened?"
"Um, Francois punched me in the eye after I kinda got mad with him about you…"
"This is all my fault," she sniffed. Suddenly she broke down and sobbed, "I'm sorry Arnold. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you said you didn't sleep with Cecile. I'm sorry for going with Francois…I'm sorry for not believing you when you said he was cheating on me…oh God, Arnold, I'm sorry! If I wouldn't have been so stubborn I – we – could have been happier far earlier…"
Arnold held her closely. Two wet people getting even more wet with each other. "It's okay, Helga. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is that we're here with each other. What matters it that I'm with you right now…and you're with me."
Helga looked up at him with her eyes all watery and gave him a weak smile. Arnold looked at her and saw she had a rose in her hand.
"I would give you this rose I have, but I see you already have one. I guess that kind of ruins the whole romantic feeling of this scenario."
Helga chuckled.
He drew in a deep breath and let it out quickly. "You're shivering…" he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was quite large for her. Even though it didn't really make her warmer, it felt nice.
"Thanks…" she grinned.
"Helga, I need you. I can't go on another day without you…I need you because I love you." His eyes sparkled.
Tears spurted from Helga's eyes. "You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that. I l-love y-you t-t-too," she could barely keep herself from crying even more. Arnold took her in his arms again and kissed her forehead.
"You know Helga…I don't know much, but I know I love you, and that may be all I need to know." Her eyes began to tear again.
This time Arnold lifted her chin up and they indulged in one sweet kiss which they have waited for forever. They could feel sparks, their emotions just floating out of their lips onto each other's. It was a moment which stood still in time, and lasted for an eternity.
The End
A/N: Harry Potter rocks.(Well, of course Hey Arnold! rocks harder) Please r/r since you've gotten this far. It would mean a LOT to me. =) really. "…Get it Harry? We saw Uranus! – ha ha ha."
Okay, if you want the translated version of the song…just go to alta vista. I'm too lazy to do it. :-D
Um, WATCH PIRATES OF THE CARRIBEAN COMING OUT JULY 9!!!! Okay?
I don't know what else I should write about.
So this may be my last story. Who knows?
