A/N: The conclusion of I think my only cliff hanger thus far. Hmmm . . . I need to work on those. Sorry for the late update. I've been catching up on my homework (do you know how wrong that sounds in July?) And if you were confused, hamburger is a basketball game in which two players chase and fight over a ball, and then play one-on-one. It's fun because you get lots of bruises and floor burns (or scraps, in Helga and Arnold's case). Ah, those were the days.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Hey Arnold!, and this is feeling very repetitive.

Where to Begin

Chapter 18 – It Happened One Night

Helga was the first to finally pull away, her eyes wide and startled. "We — we can't . . . " her words trailed off.

"Helga, I'm sorry. I crossed that line and – "

"It's not that." She closed her eyes. "I can't do this. Not now."

"What do you mean?"

"Arnold, can you please get off me?"

He blushed furiously sat beside her. "What do you mean?" he asked again.

"I can't do this. Not to you, and not to Jake." She lowered her eyes and stared at the ground.

"Helga, I'm so sorry," he whispered after a few minutes of silence.

"Don't say that! Don't apologize! This is my fault, not yours!"

He tried to search her eyes for answers, but she refused to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"It's not your fault. It's mine. I let myself . . . and you . . . I let it go too far! God, I can't do this to him!"

"But, Helga, if you feel – "

"No! No! I can't feel anything! I'm with Jake, and I can't do this to him!" she cried hysterically. She finally met his gaze, and her eyes were filled with tears. "And I can't do this to you," she whispered softly, and than she ran. He could not even run after her. He sat with his head in his hands as he wondered how it got to this point.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

Cause you said you can't change the way you feel (I could never do that, I could never do that),

But you can't tell me this ain't real, cause this is real (And you would see right through that).

In the end it's all I got (So I will hold onto that),

So I'm gonna hold on (and on and on and on and on).

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

Does anyone really celebrate President's Day? Arnold thought as he walked to the Omni Theater, which was quite a way from the boarding house, but he needed to clear his head and breathe fresh air after locking himself in his room yesterday. "Sunday, bloody Sunday," he muttered. But really, he began again, do people have parties? I know it's a day off from school and work and there are marathons on kids' television stations, but that doesn't really qualify for a celebration.

The theater lacked its usual glory as it stood high and proud on the gray canvass that was the dull, cold February day. Arnold decided that he hated February and everything that went with it, going back to his philosophy that Valentine's Day was the worst holiday. The shortest month of the year seemed to drag on and on, never ending, like a visit from your in-laws, or in his case, his cousin Arnie. He walked inside, and the interior of the theater with its bright chandlers and plush carpets did nothing for his mood; in fact, it worsened, reminding him what he would be stuck doing for the afternoon.

At least I got out of the first part, he thought as he walked back stage. He missed the morning rehearsals because of basketball practice. The girls and others had been there since eight this morning. It was now one, and he expected to be out by five, four at best.

He was welcomed by excessive wailing that he supposed was meant to be singing. He watched from backstage as Lila was performing a stirring rendition of Mariah Carey's "Hero," and by stirring he meant that it was giving him the urge to throw up. Josh walked over to him, his hands covering his ears. "It's bad if you would welcome the sound of finger nails scraping a chalkboard, right?"

Arnold said nothing and nodded slightly. He was surprised that Josh did not serve as a needed distraction for his problems, but all he wanted was to be alone.

"You okay?" Josh asked.

"I'm fine," he lied. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Josh was confused. Arnold was never one to talk your head off, but he was hardly a reserved or aloof person. However, Josh did not press him to explain himself. Arnold looked like that was the last thing he needed. "Uh, what do you think of the lighting?" he asked, trying to change the subject and get some work done.

"Lila looks good in any light," Arnold said absentmindedly. "Too bad we couldn't fix the mic so she would sound halfway decent." He watched her with interest. Lila was trying too hard. He knew she actually had a pleasant voice; she had had one since childhood. Then again, she was singing a Mariah Carey song, which could be difficult to sing; that and he never cared too much for the singer.

Josh was more confused than ever. Arnold had just said that Lila looked good all the time, and he had not said a thing about Helga.

"I will be glad when this is over, and I never have to hear her voice again," he heard Callie said as she walked towards Josh, Helga right behind her.

"Speak of the devil," Josh muttered, but Arnold was messing with the curtain.

"Ditto," Helga said, watching Lila and not paying the slightest bit of attention to what was in front of her.

"Watch out!" Callie and Josh cried together, but Helga collided with Arnold just as he turned around, and they fell down on the floor. They waited for a snide comment from Helga, even though it was her fault, but she just stared at Arnold, her eyes as wide as saucers, and her cheeks bright red.

Helga stared at him certain that her expression mirrored Arnold's of open fear and pain. His green eyes gazed into hers, and she knew he was thinking exactly what she was thinking, of the last time they ran into each other . . . .

"Are you guys okay?" Josh asked, offering his hand to Helga.

They finally broke eye contact, and Arnold gruffly muttered, "We're just fine." He shot her a look of repugnance as he stood up and walked away.

Helga pushed Josh's hand away and got up without any assistance. "We're fine, thank you." She glared at him while he gaped at her. "Why don't you go run after Mr. Pissy-Pants?" she snapped.

"Helga!" Callie cried.

Helga looked from Josh to Callie, and her frustration hit the fan. "Oh FUCK it!" she hissed loudly before stomping off.

Josh turned to Callie, looking completely serious. "Well, what do you think is wrong?"

She bit her lip. "I think I may have given the wrong advice." She sighed. "I'm going to go talk to Helga."

"Are you sure that's a safe idea?"

"Helga's just extremely emotional. She has a lot of anger, but she wouldn't hurt someone that she cares about. At least not physically, or intentionally."

"Well, if anything should happen to you, just call my name, and I will be there as your knight in shining armor." He grabbed her and held her close to him.

"JOSH!" She cried, pushing him away, or at least trying to. "Get off of me!"

He stared down at her. "Callie, why fight it? You and I are meant to be together, or at least to go see a movie together."

"Josh, seriously," she said, but not as forcefully as she intended. She could not help but laugh. He had begun to hum Shaggy's "Angel." He started to tickle her, causing her to explode with laughter. "Josh, Josh, do you want me to fix this or not?"

He stopped. "Then can we discuss dinner?"

"Sure."

Josh released her. "Good luck," he said, and he kissed her cheek.

She pushed him away playfully. "Right. I'll talk to you later, Romeo."

"It is the east, and Callista is the sun!"

She groaned loudly as she went to find Helga. I hope he meant dinner as in pizza, not dinner as in what people would eat at our wedding. She shuddered. I did not just think that!

Helga was in one of the rehearsal rooms playing Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." Callie leaned against the piano. "What was all that about?"

Helga did not look up, and stared straight forward at imaginary sheet music. "What are you talking about?"

"What's going on between you and Arnold?"

She dropped her eyes to the keys. "Well, he kissed me yesterday," she said flatly and continued playing beautifully with astounding ease.

"WHAT?"

"Arnold kissed me. Or I kissed him. I don't know, it happened too fast."

Callie walked around and pushed Helga's hands down, producing a loud bang. Helga glared at her. "Do you mind? I was practicing here."

"You two kissed?"

Helga freed her hands and dropped them in her lap. "Yeah."

"W—well what happened after that?"

She snorted. "He apologized. Pure Arnold, always a gentleman. It was my fault. I shouldn't have let it get this far. You know, I almost kissed him on Friday."

"What happened Friday?"

"We went on a double date with Gerald and Phoebe, but we were alone most of the time."

"So that's what he was so happy about on Saturday," Callie muttered.

"What?"

"Uh, well, er, how was it?"

Helga sighed and a dazed look flooded over her face. "It was amazing. I'd forgotten what a great kisser he was, but this time was a hundred times better."

Callie was shocked. "Wait, you've kissed him before?"

Helga blushed. "Yeah, a couple times when we were kids. I, uh, sorta had a crush on him. A big one."

"A couple times? Were you boyfriend and girlfriend back then or what?"

"Oh, no, they weren't real. I mean, not like this." She dropped her eyes. "No, Arnold was crazy about Lila back then. Didn't even really know I existed, at least not like that." She smiled. "I was sort of his bully back in the day."

"What happened?"

"I loved him, and we were starting to become closer friends. I finally got the balls to be nice to him and show him that I did care for him. Then one day I over heard Stinky ask him if he was going to ask me out or something, we were twelve or whatever, and Arnold said that he cared for me, but he would never think of me like that. I quote, 'I mean, it's Helga. I don't think anyone could ever think of her like that.'"

Callie watched her try to keep from crying, and she noticed that she was also fighting back tears. "Does he know you heard him?"

"No, but I think Gerald saw me."

"But maybe that's changed. Helga, he cares about you so much."

"But I moved on. I'm with Jake now."

"Did you really move on?"

"Yes, but now everything's coming back, and I don't know what to do." She paused. "I just don't want to be hurt again," she whispered softly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Callie finally spoke again. "What are you going to do about Jake?"

She buried her head in her hands. "I have to tell him. The guilt would kill me, plus I would want him to tell me if he did something like this." She looked up. "I don't want to hurt him. I really do care about Jake."

"More than Arnold?"

Helga said nothing.

"Do you think Jake will forgive you?" Callie asked.

"I don't know. I wouldn't forgive me if I was him."

Callie stared at Helga. I pray he doesn't, she thought.

The door suddenly opened. Samson was glaring at them, clearly pissed off. "Girls," he said in a mockingly sweet tone. "It is time to rehearse the dance numbers. Again," he hissed sarcastically.

Callie nodded. "Right." She looked at Helga. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Sure, but I need to talk to Samson alone."

Callie smiled. "You are braver than I am." She left, flipping Samson off when she was passed him.

"What is it, Miss Pataki?" he asked coldly.

"I want to change my talent song."

He frowned. "Miss Pataki, are you aware that the preliminaries are this Saturday, meaning you would only have three days to rehearse this since there are no rehearsals on Friday?"

"I promise that I will make it perfect. I just feel that my current song is a little flat, and I should sing something a little bit more personal."

He eyed her. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"I think so."

"Well, Miss Pataki. Why don't you think it over, get the sheet music, and if you are confident this is what you want to do, then tomorrow I will give the new sheet music to the jazz musicians."

"All right." She walked back to the stage. Now I just have to find out how I feel.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

Arnold sat on his bed Indian-style as he stared at a picture of his parents and himself. He had been staring at it for the last hour and a half, since he got home from the Omni. He thoughts were blurred together, yet somehow each one cut him sharply like a knife, and even more strangely he felt numb to the pain. Numb to any emotion, just thoughts swirling in his head, cutting him with pain that he could not feel.

Someone knocked on his door, and he guessed it was his grandpa. "Come in," he called, though he would much rather be alone.

"Hey, Short Man," Grandpa chirped as he opened the door, ignoring the fact that Arnold was hardly short anymore, unless he was standing next to Stinky the Giant. "You just up here thinking?"

Arnold knew that although his grandpa could not see the photograph, he knew what it was anyways. "Yeah, I'm just trying to sort some things out."

"Well, just don't do it at the expense of your liver."

Arnold looked up, and could not help but laugh. That was how Grandpa tended to punish him for anything these days, with a simple comment that Arnold understood full and well. "Right, Grandpa. No more drinking, I promise."

"Now I don't mean never, don't put words into my mouth. Just not until you are old enough."

"Right."

"Oh, and make sure never to drink any red liquid your Grandma tries to tell you will settle your stomach. I don't know what the heck that is, but it will clear your stomach right out." He shuddered.

"Thanks, Grandpa."

"No problem, Short Man. There's some chili left downstairs, if you want anything."

"Okay."

"Right. 'Night, Arnold." He walked to the door. "Oh yeah, you have a visitor downstairs. That's what I came up here for." He scratched his head and muttered something about Grandma.

"Who is it?" He figured it was Josh coming to find out just what the heck was wrong with him.

"Oh, that little blonde girl. You know, the one that used to have that ugly eyebrow. You know, Short Man, she's not so ugly anymore. She's actually kinda of cute, in her own way."

"Well, tell her I'm not here."

"Oh, Arnold, I make it a point not to lie to pretty little blonde girls. Plus you are here, and you need to talk to her!"

Arnold stared up at his grandpa and decided that he knew a lot more about what was happening then he led on. "What does she want?"

Grandpa sighed in frustration. "Well, I might be going out on a limb here, but I think she wants to talk to you! Now you are going to stop moping and go downstairs and talk to her!"

Arnold glared at him, and groaned loudly. "Fine! I'll go talk to her!"

"It's about time you talk to someone! All you do is mope and sit in your room. You're not a hermit, Arnold," Grandpa said as they walked downstairs.

"Grandpa, if I have to talk to her, can I at least do it alone?"

"Sure, go in the living room. No one's in there. Well, except Helga," he said, suddenly cheerful again.

Arnold feared for his sanity as an old man, and went into the living room. Helga was sitting on the couch, looking rather nervous. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hello." He was surprised at how cold his voice was.

Helga was as well. She walked over to him cautiously, took a deep breath, and began talking very fast. "Look, Arnold, I'm sorry for what happened Sunday, and I am sorry for yelling and screaming and whatever else I did. I'm sorry for earlier, I am sorry for crossing the line, and I am sorry for hurting you and for risking our friendship like that. I don't want to lose you as a friend, or lose you at all."

She finished, breathing heavy, and looking like she was going to faint. He grabbed her shoulders to study her, his head suddenly clear. "Helga, it's okay. And it's not your fault. I'm to blame too."

"No, no it's my fault. I shouldn't have –"

"Shhh." He put a hand over her mouth to silence her. "It's okay. We were just caught up in the moment. It won't happen again, and it didn't mean anything," he lied.

"Of course not," she said. He did not believe her, and he did not think she believed herself, but it was going to have to do for the moment.

"Right." Then why are we this close again? he thought as he stared at her.

She must have been thinking the same thing because she pulled away from him. "Well, if we are okay again, I brought a movie so that our day off won't be a total waste."

"Yeah, it's okay." He supposed that he could somehow bare this. At least it was better than all that awkwardness that had been hovering over them.

"Great." She got the movie ready, and Arnold made some popcorn and grabbed a couple sodas. "So, what are we watching?" he asked as Helga sat down beside him on the couch, but not too close to him.

"It Happened One Night."

The movie started, and Arnold groaned at the black and white screen. "Helga, not another old movie! I hated Casablanca, and now I have to watch this?"

"Arnold, be quiet. And this is nothing like Casablanca. Casablanca is a purely romantic movie, whereas It Happened One Night is a romantic comedy."

He glared at her. "And your point is?"

"My point is this movie is one of the best romantic comedies of all time, and one of my favorites, so shut up and enjoy it!"

He wondered why the peace offering for him was her favorite movie, but he decided that anything different would not be Helga. "Fine, I'll watch it as long as you stop hogging the popcorn." He grabbed the bowl from her, and they began the movie in silence.

Arnold watched in mild fascination as Ellie Andrews, a wealthy heiress, met up with Peter Warne, a recently unemployed newspaper reporter, as she flees from her father to be reunited with her husband King Westley, whom she eloped with against her father's wishes. He had to admit that the movie was interesting and funny at times (he personally liked Warne's conversation about newspapers with the bus driver), but he could not shake the fact that the mismatched couple reminded him faintly of Helga and himself. Helga would be Ellie, since she was she second heir to the beeper throne, he would be Peter with all his bad luck lately, plus he was more the common man, and Jake would be Westley, Helga's husband (boyfriend) who she is really not supposed to be with.

He watched the movie, suddenly very interested in it, except when he would glance at Helga every once in a while. She reminded him of Claudette Colbert, the actress who played Ellie. Helga was a classically beautiful girl, not flashily sexy like Lila. And Helga was like Ellie, misunderstood, but warm-hearted and amazing.

"I love that scene," Helga said suddenly, interrupting Arnold's thoughts.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because it is hilarious! And I am sure scandalous, at least back in the day."

Peter and Ellie had long since abandoned the bus and were trying to hitchhike. Peter had boasted that he could write a book on the subject, and lectured her on the different sure-fire ways to get a car to stop. However, when he tries several times, he fails to get a car to stop and pick them up. Ellie says she can do better, and does so by showing off her leg and causing a car to break quickly and pick them up.

"I guess it's funny," he said, trying not to show that he thought the scene was hilarious.

"Liar!" She threw a pillow at him. "You liked it. Anyways, that would be so much fun."

"What, flashing your leg at strangers?"

"No! I don't know, just traveling like that. No money, just your wits and a gorgeously handsome guy taking care of you. It is really romantic. I mean, he is returning her to another man even though he loves her!"

Arnold snorted. "Sounds stupid to me."

"You really need to work on your lying, Football Head." She smiled widely at him. "You would do the same thing."

"I guess." And for all my efforts, I still don't get the girl.

She returned to the movie, and he followed her lead. He watched as bad timing caused everything to unravel, and he could not help but be infatuated with it. As he watched the end, he could not help but notice a few of Peter's lines when Mr. Andrews was asking him if he loved his daughter.

Mr. Andrews: Oh, ah, do you mind if I ask you a question frankly? Do you love my daughter?

Peter: Any guy that'd fall in love with your daughter ought to have his head examined.

Mr. Andrews: That's an evasion.

Peter: She picked herself a perfect running mate: King Westley! The pill of the century! What she needs is a guy that'd take a sock at her once a day - whether it is coming to her or not. If you had half the brains you're supposed to have, you'd have done it yourself long ago.

Mr. Andrews: Do you love her?

Peter: A normal human being couldn't live under the same roof with her without going nutty. She's my idea of nothing!

Mr. Andrews: I asked you a simple question! Do you love her?

Peter: (As he departs and slams the office door.) Yes! But don't hold that against me. I'm a little screwy myself.

Arnold completely understood what Peter was going through, and he was suddenly aware of something that had been bothering him for a while. He watched as Ellie left Westley at the alter so she could marry Peter, and Helga stood up and clapped as the film ended. "Wasn't that a great movie?"

"Sure," he said, slightly evading her question.

"Now aren't you glad you watched it?"

He stared at her, and he could not stop the small smile from forming on his face. "Yes."

She returned his smile. "Me too."

They stared at each other before Helga said, "Well, I should be going. After all, we have school tomorrow, and I still need to finish some homework." She handed him his chemistry folder. "All checked."

"Thanks, but how could you still have homework? What did you do all weekend . . . . " The words died in his throat.

She cleared her throat nervously. "I think we know the answer to that."

He walked her to the door. "Well, good night, Helga."

"'Night, Football Head." She smiled and practically bounced down the stoop and to her car.

He took a quick shower and went to bed. It was only nine o'clock, but he was emotionally exhausted. He still was not quite sure how things were going to be with Helga now, but one thing was crystal clear.

He loved her.

A/N: Chapter 19, "Now You See Inside," is up next. Later days, I am off to read the terrible love troubles of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.