Author's notes: Thanks to all my readers who didn't desert me after a near one-month delay between updates! This was only a two-week delay, and I think it was worth it.

This chapter jumps right into the jump rope competition, but that's not the main issue, as you will see. The first half resembles a songfic, with pieces of the rhyme "Harbor Street" thrown in. The second half makes such a shift in tone that it could almost stand on its own as another chapter, but I left it in here.

And for the record, this is the longest chapter of this story so far. Make sure you're comfortable!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!

When they get in fights, this is what they say…

The rope whipped up toward the sky, passed over the two competitors, smacked down onto the blacktop and passed under four feet without any obstruction.

With the contest officially underway, Helga wasted no time getting in Gerald's head. "You've already exceeded my expectations, Geraldo!"

"How's that?"

"You made it past the first hop. Most boys I've seen trip the rope on their first try."

"I'm not 'most boys,' Helga."

"Apparently so, but you still have your limits! By the way, which one of you onlookers is keeping count?"

"That would be me." Peapod Kid raised his hand and stepped forward. "You've just passed fifteen."

The jumpers paid little attention to Peapod or anyone else, at least in the visual respect. Their eyes were locked on each other in the same intense gaze as when they took their positions.

"Thirty."

The crowd of kids had been very loud at the start of the battle, but was gradually quieting down with each revolution. Most were expecting someone to screw up within ten whips of the rope. Now it appeared there would be a wait.

"Forty."

Boys are rotten, made out of cotton…

Sid snuck through the crowd and made his way over to one of the rope handlers. "Arnold, you gotta help me out here."

Keeping his eyes on what he was doing, Arnold quickly mumbled, "Not the best time right now, Sid."

"I know, you've got the rope job and all, but I'm in way over my head here! Half the kids are coming up to me trying to demand their bets back while the other half wants to raise theirs!"

"Fifty."

"Sid, please! Why don't you just run off and hide somewhere?"

"'Run off and hide?' Arnold, that was my plan in the first place! I thought you'd have a better idea!"

"Sorry, it's all I can think of at the moment!" Arnold was growing impatient with what now seemed like a fly buzzing over his shoulder.

"Okay, fine then. I'll go hide now and you can come help me after you get done here."

"Sixty."

"Sounds good! Bye, Sid!"

"Hold on, I need to tell you where I'm going. Let me whisper it in your ear." Sid stepped up to Arnold's side and put his hand to the side of Arnold's head. Not paying attention to Sid's impending approach, the sudden touch startled Arnold, causing him to reflexively swat away the intrusive appendage. This distraction further caused him to bring the rope down early, almost hitting Helga and Gerald in the process.

After dodging the wayward swing, Helga shouted, "Sid, you screw this up and I'll relocate your nose to the other side of your head!"

Being on bad terms now with almost everyone in the schoolyard, Sid bolted for the door and back into the building.

Girls are sassy, made from molassy…

"Seventy."

"So where are you keeping your rabbit's foot?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I do, because it's sheer luck that you've lasted this long with me. Heck, if we go much longer, I'll set a new personal best!"

"That's great, Helga! Make sure you give me all the credit!"

They shot each other mutual dirty looks. The crowd of kids continued to "ooh" as each taunt was tossed back and forth, but for the most part the congregation was silent.

"Eighty."

What's going on here? How can this moron actually be keeping up with me? He even has to duck his head slightly when he jumps to keep his stack of hair from catching the rope, and keeps going like it's nothing! I'm not so sure about this now.

"Ninety."

Someone besides Peapod Kid spoke up from the crowd, "Hey, are one of you gonna lose here soon? I'm getting hungry and need to make my run to the vending machine!"

"I think Bubba's got a point, Helga. We're obviously not being tested here with this pace we're at."

"You want to… speed things up?"

"Damn right!"

"Well…" Helga trailed off without answering.

"Come on, Helga! I want to go eat!"

"Pipe down, Pink Boy! I'm thinking about it!"

"One hundred."

"Look, we've just gone past a hundred without a problem. Let's speed it up so we get this over with! That is, unless you're… chicken."

A huge gasp came from the crowd. Part of this was due to Gerald's mention of "chicken," and part of it was because Helga narrowly missed tripping the rope after hearing the word herself.

"One hundred ten."

With an uncomfortable feeling that the odds were sliding in Gerald's favor, and with no alternative after being threatened with "chicken" status, she quickly complied. "Fine then! You want fast? I'll show you fast! Pheebs, Football Head, double the speed!"

Phoebe and Arnold glanced across at each other, half-shrugged their shoulders, and gradually increased the rope speed until it was going about twice as fast.

"One hundred twenty."

Boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider…

"One hundred thirty."

The crowd of kids began to murmur again as the pair continued jumping.

"They're moving so fast, it's like a blur!"

"I'd have to agree there, Harold. In fact, it's sort of… uh, what's the word for when something puts you into a sleepy kind of stare?"

"One hundred forty."

"It's hypnotic, Stinky. But don't worry about them putting you to sleep or anything; this will be over pretty soon at this rate."

"I reckon you're right, Rhonda. A person can only jump for so long."

"One hundred fifty."

Harold glanced over his shoulder while Rhonda and Stinky discussed the outcome. "Oh, uh, hi, Principal Wartz!"

"Good morning, Mr. Berman. May I ask what is taking place here?"

"These two had a fight about something earlier, and they came out here to settle it."

"One hundred sixty."

"Is that so? You know, Mr. Berman, I myself was one of the best jump ropers back in my day. I could go for days on end without ever catching the rope once. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to jump rope for quite some time."

"Was it because you got too fat?"

"As a matter of fact, it was. I'm sure you can 'identify' with me."

"Yeah… I suppose."

"One hundred seventy."

Girls go to college to get more knowledge…

"You getting tired yet, Helga?"

"You wish! I could go all day on this thing!"

"One hundred eighty."

"What is your record, anyway?"

"Well, if you really have to know, it's two fifty."

"Two fifty? Is that all?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing; I just thought you would've done better than that."

"One hundred ninety."

"Don't worry, Tall Hair Boy; I'll shatter that record after you go down in flames!"

"Hey, I don't know how you two are feeling, but my arm's killing me. Can't you just stop and call this a draw?"

"Two hundred."

"Pipe down, Arnoldo! We're doing the real work here!"

"Yeah, don't worry about it, man! I'll beat her soon enough!"

The eerie silence made its prompt return after Gerald's last remark. The other fifth graders could tell that Helga and Gerald were approaching their physical limits. Rhonda quickly explained to the people around her how Helga had set the playground record a couple years ago. Apparently, she had reached the 250 mark running off the fuel of four Yahoo sodas she drank during the lunch period in which she accomplished the feat. Today, the sugar and caffeine rush was not present, at least not to the extent of the previous attempt. Without question, someone would bail very soon.

"Two hundred ten."

"I hope… you didn't… jinx yourself, Helga!"

"Why's… that?"

"You said… what your record was. That means… you probably… won't make it now!"

"Two hundred twenty."

She gasped for more air, "That's just… a superstition!"

An unexpected voice cried across the playground, "Yoo-hoo! Baby Sister!"

Helga almost landed on the rope after mistiming her jump. For whatever reason, Olga was standing out on the sidewalk by the school. Beginning to panic, Helga refused to look in her older sister's direction, focusing all attention on Gerald as she gutted it out and continued to propel her body off the ground.

"Two hundred thirty."

"Helga!" Olga called again.

She was closer now; Helga could almost see her approaching the circle of kids out of the corner of her eye. No, don't come over here! For the love of Bob, please don't! Thankfully, most of the kids hadn't taken notice of Olga yet, as there was still plenty of noise and Olga's squeaky voice could only be distinguished by a trained pair of ears like Helga's.

"Two hundred forty."

"This… is it… Gerald! You're not… gonna quit… on me now, are you?"

Gerald simply glared back at her without so much as a blink.

"Helga, you silly goose! You forgot your allergy suppository when you left this morning!"

Immediately following this piece of information from Olga, who now stood right next the crowd of kids and was perfectly audible, a loud snap could be heard, followed by the smack of a body hitting concrete.

For a few seconds, the group stared in amazement. Roughly a dozen jaws were dangling toward the ground in total disbelief of the outcome. Then, the silence was broken and the laughter floodgates began opening.

"She lost to a boy in a jump rope competition!"

"She landed right on her butt!"

"Yeah, I hope she's not hurt bad enough to take her suppositories!"

As the laughter rose into the sky, the former jump rope champion lay prostrate on the ground, defeated and humiliated. She rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in her hands.

Olga crept in through the throng of amused fifth graders and knelt down. "Are you okay, Baby Sister?"

Helga snapped her head up off the ground and shot her sister an irate look, amplified by the tears forming in her eyes. Olga got to her feet and took a step back as Helga quickly stood up with her. Helga snatched the small paper bag Olga was holding and took off running for the relative safety of the school building.

A moment after the door closed behind her, the bell rang, signaling the end of recess.

"Awww! I never went and got my Mr. Nutty bar!"

"I truly feel your pain, Harold. I tell you what: I'll buy us both a Mr. Nutty at lunch with the money I won by bettin' on Gerald."

"Thanks, Stinky. You're a real pal."

As most of the class made its way back to room 206, Arnold, Gerald and Phoebe remained outside for a minute, along with Olga. All four were in speechless from the display they had just seen unfold before they're eyes.

"Well," Arnold spoke up, "I guess you won."

"I guess."

Arnold frowned at the flat tone in which Gerald answered. This is really depressing, he thought as he turned to Olga, who had a mixture of confusion and worry showing on her face. "Uh, I think you can go now. Helga should be fine."

"Oh… okay." Olga turned and left quietly. She looked like a dog leaving with her tail between her legs, aware of her responsibility for the events that had just unfolded.

"We should probably be heading in now," Phoebe politely spoke as she wound up the rope. She placed the rope back on its old, rusty hook and led the boys back into the building. They reached the classroom just before the bell rang.

"Gerald, just the boy I need to see! So, what's the project going to be on?"

"Huh? Oh, actually, Helga's supposed to have the idea, so you should probably be asking her for it."

"Okay, then. Where might she be?"

"Why are you asking me? Didn't she come back to class?"

"No, I'm afraid she didn't. Why don't you take the hall pass and go find her?"

Gerald sighed, "All right, I'll go hunt her down."

"Great, and while you're out there, keep an eye out for Sid; I don't see him in here, either."

"Yes, sir," Gerald mumbled as he went out the door. All right, guess I should start back at the playground door and work my way inward. I swear, this girl's more trouble than she's worth. As Gerald reached a T-intersection in the hall, Sid came around the corner and smacked into him.

"Whoa! Sorry, Gerald. Hey, by the way, who won?"

"I did, but I think I just made things worse with Helga."

"So that's why she came barging in on me!"

"Huh? You saw her?"

"Yeah, I was hiding in the janitor's closet until everyone went back to class so I didn't get mauled for money when it was over. She busted in on me and threatened to make me eat my hat if I didn't let her have the room to herself."

"Is she still in there?"

"As far as I know. But I wouldn't go near it if I were you."

"I ain't got much of a choice with Simmons demanding we give him our project idea when I bring her back in there."

"In that case, it's been nice knowing you, Gerald."

Sid continued on his way back to class as Gerald rolled his eyes. He turned the corner, went down the hall by which Sid came and reached the janitor's closet door. A faint, indistinguishable sound could be heard within. Is she doing what I think she's doing? Further listening confirmed what he thought it was. I've got a feeling she won't be any easier to deal with like this. He knocked and spoke in a polite tone, "Hey, Helga, you in there?"

The low sound quickly hushed. After not getting a response for a few seconds, Gerald tried the doorknob. It was locked. "Come on, Helga, open the door."

"Go away!" came the rude response. The door remained locked. Okay, Gerald, whatever you do, don't lose your patience here. She's not going to open the door, so I need to find a way in. He looked around as he brainstormed and summarily recalled that Phoebe's locker was across from the closet door. Admitting to himself for the moment that he was her boyfriend since he knew her combination, he popped it open and found what he sought: paper clips. Returning to the door, he straightened a clip out and stuck it in the keyhole. He expected Helga to rush to the door at any moment and hold it shut, but the closet was silent inside.

With relative ease, the lock clicked open and Gerald slowly opened the door. She wasn't laying in wait for an ambush. Helga was sitting on the old filing cabinet that lay in the closet, which many bullies had used as a "desk" for generations. She was facing the back wall with her head down and shoulders slumped.

Gerald was in total disbelief for a few reasons. This was the first time he'd every seen Helga like this; it was surreal in its own unique way. The mighty bully had been felled, and by him of all people. But it was bittersweet. He thought it would be great to see Helga "get what was coming to her;" instead, he received a heavy dose of remorse. Even she didn't deserve to be in this pathetic of a state.

"Uh," he timidly spoke, "Mr. Simmons wants you to come back to class."

She didn't answer.

"Helga, did you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, but I'm not going!"

Gerald tightened his fists. "Don't start in with me, Helga. Let's go."

"No."

Okay, looks like I'm dealing with a brat. "You know, Timberly acts more mature than this most of the time."

"Oh, was she the one who taught you how to jump that well?"

"Of course. You didn't think I'd do something like that if I knew you'd hand my butt to me right off the bat, did you?"

Helga stood up, whipped around and leaned across the cabinet, "I knew it! You set me up! You acted all worried at the start just so I'd go through with the idea!"

This time, Gerald didn't respond. The outburst was bad enough, but coupled with the look on her face, it was enough to catch anyone's tongue. The room didn't have the best lighting, with just a single light bulb in the ceiling, but he could see that she'd been crying since she came in there. Her eyes were pink and puffy, and remnants of tears could still be seen on her cheeks.

Gerald took a deep breath. "Look… don't be acting like this is my fault. After all, the jump rope was your idea."

"You're the one who wanted a piece of me!"

"Yeah, because you tore my magazine in half! That's a collectible!"

"Oh, big loss there! It was just a bunch of pictures to feed your perverted boyhood mind!"

Gerald quickly went over and shut the closet door. It was bad enough she was screaming loud enough for the whole school to hear, let alone about the Johanssen's prized "collection." "Fine then! Let's put the magazine aside. All you did was lose a jump rope match. It's not the end of the world."

"Are you kidding me? Of course it is! I lost a jump rope contest in front of the whole class, and on top of that, Olga comes out of nowhere with my 'stuff!'"

"What are those for, anyway?"

"Miriam bought one of those cereals with the strawberries in the box the other week and fed them to me one morning. I wasn't fully awake and didn't realize what I was doing until I was almost done eating."

"That's right, I forgot you had the strawberry allergy. Why'd they have to give you suppositories?"

"Who knows? I think the doctor was just looking for the most humiliating way for me to take them. Plus, ever since Big Bob took them for something a few years ago, he thinks they work better than oral pills and tries to get them every chance he gets."

"Anyone ever tell you your dad's nuts?"

She glared up at him and returned to her near-fetal sitting position.

"Couldn't they have just given you some salve like they did that one time back in kindergarten?"

"Probably, but like I said, Bob's a—wait, how did you know about that?"

"I was the one who had to give it to you that time, remember?"

Helga thought back to the first time she had a breakout from her allergy. They served strawberries for a snack one morning, and hives began forming before she even finished her bowl. Gerald was the first one to notice; he told the teacher, who then gave him a tube of ointment. Despite being strongly resistant, Helga allowed him to apply it on her back where she couldn't reach. "You… remember that?"

"Of course I do. It was the most disgusting thing I had to do in my life."

Helga laughed. "Believe me, the feeling's mutual, Bucko."

"Whatever. Come on, let's get going."

"Are you deaf or something? I told you, I'm not going back to that classroom."

"Oh, come on! You can't stay in here forever, Helga!"

"Of course I can. Tell Phoebe to bring me my lunch, and tell Simmons I went home sick."

"Hey, I'd let you stay in here for all eternity, except I need my partner to come and tell our teacher what we're doing our science project on."

"You think I give a crap about that stupid project? I'm not going back in there— no matter what."

"Look, no one cares about you losing or your stupid suppositories! Quit acting like such a baby!"

Helga's shoulders sank even further. "Just leave me alone."

Gerald backed away and paced around the closet. Man, how am I going to get her out of here?

"Let me go! I told you, I'm not going in there!" Helga continued to squirm, but to no avail. Gerald had successfully pulled her two-thirds of the way back to the classroom, enduring several bruises on each side of his body where Helga thrust her fists and elbows.

Principal Wartz passed by them in the hallway. "Mr. Johanssen, Ms. Pataki, do either of you have a hall pass?"

Gerald produced it from his pocket. "I'm retrieving her for Mr. Simmons."

Wartz checked the pass and then took note of the way Helga was slung in Gerald's other arm. "Is there a reason you're dragging her?"

"Yeah, because he's taking me against my will! This is abduction! I'm gonna—"

Gerald slapped his hand over Helga's mouth and quickly thought of an excuse. "Uh, she hurt her leg jumping rope during recess and the pain killers the nurse gave her are messing around with her head."

"Is that right? Well, be careful with her. I've seen men on the battlefield do some terrible things under the influence of morphine."

"I think it was ibuprofen."

"Of course. Carry on, then."

As Wartz made it to the other end of the hall, Helga bit one of Gerald's fingers and made a break for the exit. Instead, her face found the tile about six feet down the hall. She rolled over and tried to kick Gerald's hands off her ankle. "You are really asking for it now, Hair Stack!"

"Am I really? You've softened me up enough already, so why don't you take your best shot?"

Helga didn't think twice. She spun around and lunged at Gerald, slamming him into a nearby locker. "You are playing with fire if think I'm going in there!"

Gerald slipped out from her grasp, got behind her, and put her arm in a hammerlock. "And you're just kidding yourself if you think you're getting out of this!"

"Ow! Gerald, seriously, why are you going to all this trouble?"

He relaxed his grip a bit at the notion she seemed to be proposing. "What do you mean?"

Helga snapped her arm free and shoved Gerald out of her personal space. "What I mean is, why are you enduring all my physical and verbal abuse? If I were you, I would have gone back to Simmons when I found the locked door. Why'd you stick around?"

He didn't answer. Gerald was stumped.

Helga turned around and faced him with a mischievous look on her face. "Oh, isn't this rich? You actually felt bad about what you did! You felt sorry for me!"

Gerald crossed his arms and faced the other direction. "I don't follow you."

"Neither one of us give a crap about that project. You could have lied and said you didn't know where I was. Simmons is a throw pillow; he'll buy any excuse you give him."

"I know, I know."

"So what was it, then?"

"I felt bad, okay?" Gerald's raised voice backed Helga into the wall, wiping the sly look off her face. He approached her. "You know, there's something wrong in that head of yours. I go to the trouble to hunt you down, absorb all of your abuse, all in an attempt to bring you out from under this rock you've buried yourself under, and then you make fun of me for doing it?"

"What's your point?"

Gerald's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. She was too much. He paced down the hall, flinging his arms up in frustration. "You know what," he spoke as he came back, "just forget it. Stay out here and act like a two-year-old. I'll go tell Simmons you took a long walk off a short pier and be done with you altogether."

"Ha! Good luck with that!" Helga casually leaned up against the wall, waiting for Gerald's response. Instead, he began walking toward the classroom, which was only a few yards away from where they had just been. "You're actually going back without me, huh? What are you going to tell Simmons our idea is?"

"I don't know. I'll probably just do what everyone else is doing."

"Oh, he'll be riveted, I'm sure!" She began to laugh, but then something went off in her head. The idea materialized almost instantly. "Gerald, that's it!"

He stopped at the door. "What's it?"

"That's our idea! We'll do what everyone else is doing!"

He gave her a skeptical look. "Maybe you should stop by the nurse's office and have Sheena's aunt check your head for loose wires."

Helga ran up to him and pulled him a couple steps back. "Look, I can't explain it right now; it's still kind of fuzzy in my head. Let me hammer the details out with Simmons and I'll tell you about it later."

"I don't know, I'm thinking I should work by myself now."

Helga recognized her responsibility for his skepticism. "Okay, fine, I'll set the record straight! You beat me, you were the better player, I acted like a spoiled brat, they'll forget about the whole suppository incident in a few days, and you were completely and one hundred percent correct about everything!"

As Helga caught her breath from her long-winded spiel, Gerald gave her a mock ovation. "Now, was that so hard?"

She socked him in the arm. "Trust me, I will return the favor."

Gerald stepped aside as she went back into the room ahead of him. As he went to follow her, he reassessed his situation. I have to put up with this for the next three weeks until this thing is due? He cracked a smile. Sounds good to me.