Author's Notes: ¬_¬ Well, spring break is finally here, and so is chapter 24 (and a very bad stomach ache, might I add). I'd just like to thank everyone who has reviewed. I appreciate the fact that you take time to not only read my story but also either tell me how much you like it or give me constructive criticism. I also hope that you are still interested in my story, since I haven't updated for a long time…and on that, I'd like to say something. I know that I have a problem with updating, but please be patient people. My job is not to write fanfiction. My job is a student. My family and friends, school, and work come first. Maybe this means that I'm not that serious of a writer, and maybe that's true, but please be patient. I've said many times that I'm going to finish this story, even if it takes me a long time. I haven't updated because of things that have happened personally that I don't really want to get into, but please understand that badgering me with complaints of my lack of updating does not make me write any faster. I'm doing the best that I can, and if that's not enough, than it's not enough.
Again, thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed.
**I don't know what the hell happened to Chapter 17, because most of it is missing (which has graciously been brought to my attention...thank you so much). And since most of my work was lost when the computer had a virus and when I lost my disk, I don't have a hard copy, so I'll have to rewrite it here pretty quick. So nobody read Chapter 17!!!**
Oh, and I'm taking a break from A Sure Thing, although the next chapter's half written, so I can finish WTB.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!
Where to Begin
Chapter 24 – Perfect
Arnold knocked on the dressing room door, his insides a complete mess because of what he was about to do. He feared for his own life, for there was no telling what Helga would do when she found out that her parents were in Canada with her sister instead of in the audience of the Omni.
"Come in," a voice he did not recognize said.
He opened the door and walked in slowly, and was happy for doing so because it was not as obvious that he was stopped dead mid-stride. Helga was standing in the middle of the room, now adorned in a sapphire blue dress. Rhonda was fixing her hair, Phoebe was standing on a chair and fixing her makeup, and a young woman dressed in funky clothing stood off to the side. He recognized her as the clothing designer Reilly something-or-another.
"Hey Arnold," Helga said shyly from behind Phoebe's head.
"Can I please talk to you alone?" he asked, his hands in his pockets as he fidgeted with a ball of lint.
Helga paled beneath her make-up. "Sure," Reilly answered for her. "Good luck, Helga." She and Rhonda left together talking about Reilly's new spring line.
"I'll see you in a bit, Helga," Phoebe said, jumping down. She gave Arnold a funny look, but left without saying anything more.
An awkward silence filled the room as the door shut behind Phoebe. Arnold swallowed hard and looked around the room, at anything other than her wide brown eyes and shy smile. "You look beautiful," he said as he looked at the playbill for Rent.
"Oh, thanks," she said, blushing deeply. Helga spun around. "It reminds me of Anya's dress in Anastasia. I love that movie."
"I know. You so kindly enjoy reminding me that men are babies," he replied dully.
She laughed, filling the air before another uncomfortable stillness surrounded them.
Arnold cleared his throat, still avoiding her gaze. "You were amazing out there."
She stopped spinning. "So you saw me?"
"And heard you."
"Oh." She fell silent and sat down in a chair.
He finally found the courage to look at her, and naturally she was staring at her shoes. "But that's not why I'm here."
"Oh?" She did not seem the least surprised.
He sat down beside her. "Helga, I'm came in here to tell you about your parents."
Her face lit up. Clearly that was not what she was expecting from him. "Are they here? Where's Dad? Is he here?" She began looking over her shoulder as if Big Bob was waiting for a cue to enter.
Arnold turned away. "They're not here."
"What?"
He swallowed hard and turned back to her. The look in her eyes showed she was nearing the breaking point emotionally. It threw him off, seeing Helga, usually so hard and composed, anxiously awaiting for an answer he could not give her. "Helga, your parents aren't here. They're in Toronto."
She was silent for a few moments, her eyes not focusing on anything as she took his words in. "What? How?" she asked desperately.
"I called your dad's cell phone and Olga answered. My guess is they just spontaneously decided to go back with her."
"Meaning they forgot all about me," she whispered softly.
"Helga—"
"No," she stiffened in her seat. "It's my fault, really. I mean, I complain when they ignore me; I complain when they smother me with attention. I should have never got my hopes up. I mean, who the hell am I trying to kid?"
"Helga, it's not your fault." God, for once don't try to be so strong!
Tears filled her dark brown eyes. "Yes, it is, Arnold. If I was half the daughter that Olga is, they'd be here."
He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Helga, that's not true! Don't say that! You're a million times the girl Olga can ever be!"
She stared into his eyes for what seemed like a lifetime before she flung herself into his arms. "Arnold, Arnold, please! Please just make this pain go away!"
He held her close as she cried. "Helga, if I could I promise you I would have a long time ago, but I can't," he whispered. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt, and he felt completely helpless to her.
"How could they forget about this? They promised me!"
Arnold had no idea what to say. What could he say?
"Why tonight? Oh God, why couldn't they've missed something else? Why this?" she pulled away. "It's not fair!"
He looked down at her. "Helga, nothing they've ever done to you has been fair."
"How can they keep doing this to me?" she kept asking more to herself than to him. "My God, I'm their daughter!"
"Helga," he said softly, "Helga, you don't need them."
She looked up at him in disbelief and disgust. " 'Don't need them?' Arnold, they're my parents! I need them more than anything! No matter what, I still love them. I love them, and they give me this!"
"Helga, there comes a point when the pain's just not worth it anymore!"
She looked straight into his eyes. "Some things are." She held his gaze for a moment, then dropped her eyes to the floor. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I just need to give up on this dream that one day we'll be this big happy family and Dad will actually remember my name." Fresh tears fell down her face. "I just want to know somebody really cares about me," she murmured.
"Helga, a lot of people care about you. Really care about you."
"Who?"
"Your aunt—"
"Who lives thousands of miles away."
"Okay, Phoebe and Gerald."
"Gerald doesn't give a damn about me."
"Gerald cares a lot more than you think, or even he thinks. And you can't deny that Josh and Callie do."
"Okay, so—"
"Jake."
"Yeah, but –"
"Me," he finished softly, but the effect of his word was as if he as screamed it at her.
"You?"
He smiled. "Helga, I know you're thick, but that's a record, even for you. Of course I care about you. More than anyone else."
"But you're not family," she said, looking away after a silence.
His smile grew. "Well, now I'm just insulted."
"Huh?"
"Helga, so your family's not like a normal family. Look at mine."
She said nothing.
He pulled her chin up so she had to look at him. "Look, Helga, the point is that there are people out there who love and care about you. Yeah, it's shitty that your parents aren't here, but they still love you. They just have a majorly fucked up way of showing it."
Helga laughed and cracked a smile.
Arnold hugged her tightly. "No matter what, I'll always be here for you."
He let her cry. All she needed was for someone to tell her that.
"Well, aren't you just a knight in shining armor?" she asked as she wiped her eyes.
He blushed deeply.
Helga stood up and moved towards the mirror. "Thank God for waterproof mascara." She quickly applied some foundation. "Well, Football Head, looks like I got a favor to ask."
"What's that?"
She turned around. "Escort me?"
Arnold rolled his eyes.
"What the hell—Arnold!"
"Oh, Lord, Helga. You're supposed to be the unpredictable one! Who didn't see that coming?"
She glared at him. "Some knight of mine. Asshole."
Arnold grinned. He stood up and extended his arm to her. "Shall we go, milady?"
She took his arm, still slightly glaring at him, but a smile was on her face the entire time they walked backstage.
Josh and Phoebe were quite surprised to see Helga and Arnold walk arm and arm through the doors (though they both smiled at the sight). Helga walked over to Samson and began explaining the situation to him. "So is she okay?" Josh asked.
"No, but that's to be expected, don't you think?" Arnold watched her. "She'll hide it alright, though. I'm just worried about what she'll do when this is all over."
"Hard telling," Phoebe said, but her smile had since faded. She was glaring at Arnold.
"Look, everything's okay. I'm going to walk her, alright?" He shifted uncomfortably under Josh and Phoebe's gazes. He expected them to be jumping up and down at the news, but Josh looked oddly concerned and Phoebe looked horrified. "Aren't you guys happy?"
They exchanged glances. "Arnold," Phoebe slowly began, "do you really think this is the right time to press your feelings on her?"
"Phoebe—" he started, but Helga grabbed his arm. "Time to go."
"Good luck, Helga," Josh called after them.
Phoebe said the same, and as soon as the two were out of earshot, she turned to Josh. "This is going to get ugly, isn't it?"
Josh sighed heavily. "I pretty sure you're right, but I hope you're wrong. For everyone's sake."
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
"Remember to let her into your heart, then we can start to make it better."
"Do you always sing Beatles songs when you're nervous?" Arnold asked as they waited backstage for Helga's name to be announced. "Out of tune, might I add."
"Only when I want to piss you off," she responded automatically.
"I'm glad my pain gives you joy," he said as Helga's name and his own were called. He offered his arm to her again. "May I?"
She took his arm and they began their descent down the steps. "If you trip, I'll kill you myself," she whispered out of the side of her mouth.
"Oh, so if I just do something random to make you mad, you'll hire a hit man?"
Her smile widened as was completely genuine, unlike the forced smile she had been using most of the night. "Hey, I got him for a good price, so I might was well use him."
"How much?" Arnold pushed on as they neared the floor.
"$200 a week."
"Ouch. Wolfgang'd kill me for free."
Helga could hardly hold in her laughter as they stepped into the spotlight. Beside her, Callie was bewildered at their behavior, and some how Arnold managed to spot Jake in the crowd, and he did not look the least bit happy. Score one for my team.
"And for the moment we've all been waiting for, the top three," Mr. Soares said.
"Our first contestant to move on is … Miss East Hillwood High, Sabrina Verducci!" Mrs. Chadwick cried.
Sabrina hugged her father and went to stand beside Soares and Chadwick.
"The second spot goes to," Mr. Soares started, "Miss Arlington High School, Sarah Andrews!"
Tears flowed down Sarah's face ("Again, I must stress the importance of waterproof mascara," Helga whispered to Arnold) as she joined Sabrina.
Beside him Helga stiffened. He knew exactly what was going through her head: only one spot and both she and Callie were left.
"And the last spot goes to…" his words faded.
Helga's hold on him tightened.
"Miss West Hillwood High, Helga Pataki!"
She let out a deep breath, and hugged Arnold, then Callie.
He watched her in her moment. She was meant to be there, to finally have people realize how incredibly charming and talented she was. He had known it for ages.
And he would spend a lifetime wondering why he did not realize it sooner.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Gross, Helga thought as she bent down to itch her calf. She could feel the sweat through her gloves. Thank God it's almost over. I'd kill for a pair of sweats at this point.
Sarah Andrews was answering her final question, which was something gay such as if she could prevent one moment in history from happening what would it be and why (she was currently rambling on and on about 9/11). Helga vaguely wondered who was that unoriginal with their question (all the girls had written their own question to be asked, and the top three then drew a question from those). She had asked what moment had been the most influential in your life. Dumb, yes, but she figured it might rattle any one who expected to talk about gun control or abortion for a minute and a half.
She was trying to think of anything and everything, including the price of tea in China to keep her mind away from more pressing matters. Her life seemed to be one big mess at the moment. There would be hell to pay when Bob and Miriam returned, and Olga may go in the mix if she knew about the pageant. However, it was not the most challenging problem at the moment. That medal went to her love life.
Her head had been spinning from all the circles she had been around. One moment she was ready to run off with Arnold, and the next she was amazed that she is the lucky girl that Jake Robinson, who was turning out to be a really sweet guy, would want to date her. While there was no doubt she cared deeply for Jake, she could no longer lie to herself about Arnold. I'm going to have to decide something soon. It's just not fair to them, she thought.
"And now our final contestant, Helga Pataki."
She walked over to the host in a daze; the bright lights were finally starting to get to her. She was kicking herself for completely blocking out Sabrina's answer. She had no idea if she answered well or not.
"Well, Miss Pataki, are you ready?" Mr. Soares asked.
"I think so, though I'm getting used to all the butterflies in my stomach."
The audience relaxed, and Helga relaxed a bit. Clearly she could still be herself, and they would still like her.
"Please reach into the bowl and pull out a question," Mrs. Chadwick said.
Helga did as she was told and handed the slip of paper to Soares.
"Miss Pataki, your question is as follows: The babies of the eighties generation is on the verge of taking their place among the leaders of the world. What do you think is the most important element to prepare your generation for their destiny?" He asked, holding out the microphone for her.
It was Callie's question. The reference to a Something Corporate song gave it away. Helga took the microphone, once again ready to share a part of herself that she had kept secret for so long. "I believe the most important element is the ability to form strong relationships, especially the most important one, which is that between parents and child." She paused, and continued. "Whether they are aware of it or not, children spend the first thirteen years of their lives basically idolizing their parents, watching their every move and imitating it. Once the child enters his or her teenage years, the child will continue watching but now analyzing what they see, quickly ready to rebel against any and all hypocrisy. No matter how hard the child fights, that relationship is the foundation for every thought, every word, every action that child will ever make. If the relationship with the parents is not strong, the child will have difficulty forming any close relationship. A broken bond in that relationship is a scar that will never heal, no matter how much time passes. It is much harder to lead when you carry that type of weight in your heart."
She stopped to a dead silence. There was nothing left to do; she'd poured her heart out, and if it was not good enough, than so be it.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Miss West Hillwood High, Helga Pataki," Mr. Soares said as a woman in a glittery dress came out holding an envelop. "Thank you," he said through the cannon of applause. "Now for the moment we've been waiting for."
Helga crowded together with the other girls, her heart pounding in her chest.
"The second runner-up is…" he opened the envelope. "Miss East Hillwood High, Sabrina Verducci."
Helga hugged Sabrina as she went to accept her flowers.
Sarah took Helga's hand. "Well, this is it," she whispered.
Helga nodded, not able to open her mouth, which seemed to be locked in a smile.
"And the first runner-up, who will assume the title of Miss Hillwood if the winner is unable to fulfill her duties is… Miss West Hillwood High, Helga Pataki, meaning Miss Arlington High School Sarah Andrews is our new Miss Hillwood!"
Helga hugged Sarah as the Arlington fight song blasted through the theater. She watched as Sarah was crowned and walked across the stage. It was odd to see the pageant from this angle; Helga was finally aware of where she was, the daze was gone. Suddenly she could not wait to get out of her dress, and she quickly followed Sabrina offstage as soon as she received her own bouquet of Champaign roses.
Samson was the one to speak to her. "Congratulations, Miss Pataki."
"Thank you," she responded quickly before finding Phoebe. "Phoebe!" she cried, running over to her friend.
"Helga! I can't believe it!" Phoebe hugged Helga tightly.
"Second place. Not too bad," she said, smiling widely.
"You should have won. Sarah's answer was so cheesy and predictable," Callie said.
Helga hugged her next. "I don't care. I'm just so happy this is all over."
Arnold watched as Josh, Nadine, Eugene, Harold, Sid, Brainy, Alex, Stinky, Curly, Lorenzo, Rhonda, Sheena, Park, Gerald, and several of the girls on Helga's basketball team run up to her, each one dying to congratulate and hug her. It was a fascinating sight, really. Maybe now she'll realize just how important she is to everyone. He started over to join the rest of them.
"Helga!"
Arnold's heart dropped. Jake sprinted to Helga and picked her up. "Helga, oh my God, you were amazing out there!"
Arnold watched with even more disgust as Jake kissed her deeply and the crowd cooed.
"Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I think it's time to go celebrate, right?" Josh asked, clutching Callie by the waist. The rest of the crowd loudly shouted in agreement.
"What do you say?" Jake asked Helga.
"Only if we celebrate Callie's great job too, and also the West Hillwood High's girls basketball team who will be ready to win sectional next week."
The basketball girls responded by screaming, and Callie merely laughed.
"Then let's go!" Jake cried.
"You coming, Arnold?" Josh asked.
Arnold watched as nearly twenty-five pairs of eyes focused on him. "Uh, I actually have to stay here and help finish things up, you know, since I'm crew chief or whatever," he muttered quickly, sticking his hands in his pockets and wishing desperately that he was not so stupid.
Josh stared at him. "No, you go and I'll stay, Arnold. You've got to be crazy."
"Naw, you go. I should head home early anyways."
Nearly everyone was frowning or wearing some form of bewilderment on his or her face (with the exception of Jake, who was now grinning from ear to ear). Helga pushed away from everyone and approached him slowly. "Don't you want to come?" she asked softly.
"I think I've stolen you away from everybody enough as is tonight, Helga." He looked directly at Jake. "I don't want to impose anymore."
Helga followed his gaze. "Arnold, don't be crazy. You won't be imposing. I want you to come."
"And I want to come, but do you really think that that is the best idea at the moment? And least in terms of you and Jake?"
She glared at him. "No, I suppose not."
He sighed and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry, Helga, but I'll see you tomorrow."
"Good-bye," she whispered.
He watched everyone leave, and tried to push out of his mind the questions that Gerald, Josh, and Callie would most likely grill him with later. He went to go congratulate Sarah, and began cleaning everything up. He would much rather be with his friends, but there was no doubt in his mind that he had done the right thing.
Nearly two hours later he finally arrived home, dragging his feet. "Hi, Grandpa," he said as he entered the kitchen. His grandfather was sitting at the table, reading an old newspaper and eating a colossal ham sandwich.
"Arnold, there you are. I half expected you to be pouring yourself in here in a couple of hours. Why aren't you out partying with your little friend? Didn't she get second place?"
Arnold sat across from his grandfather. "Yeah, she did."
"Well?" Phil asked as he took another large bite out of his sandwich.
Arnold stole a pickle off his plate. "Well what?"
"Well why the heck are you sitting here with me?"
Arnold sighed. "Because – it's just complicated, Grandpa. That's why."
Phil chewed thoughtfully. "Ah, I see. So you're in love with the girl," he said calmly in between bites.
"WHAT?! I'm not in love with Helga, I just—I'm only—I—" he sputtered, his defense collapsing.
"Right, now that's a convincing statement, Short Man," he said flatly as he went to the refrigerator. "Milk?"
"No thanks."
"You know, Arnold, generally it's a good thing to love a person, which makes me wonder why you look like your pig got ran over."
Arnold rolled his eyes. "Grandpa, Abner did get ran over, remember? I was twelve."
He choked on his milk. "Oops, right. Forgot about that one." He looked smugly at Arnold. "And that little girl with the eyebrow got you a new one from her grandmother's farm in the Dakotas."
Arnold watched as his pig Sylvia snored loudly from her bed beside the fridge. "Right, so I gave her a kitten in return…"
"Mmm-hmm, so what's the problem?"
Arnold sighed. "Helga has a boyfriend."
"Ah, I see." He scratched his chin. "Well, if I were you, I wouldn't be too worried."
"What? That's it? Don't worry? Grandpa, what kind of advice is that?"
His grandpa looked at him sternly. "That's advice from a man who needs to get to the W.C. stat. Look, Arnold, the little girl was crazy in love with you for who knows how long, and I always figured she still was. Those kinds of feelings don't easily fade, Arnold. So if I were you, I'd just be as good as a friend to her as possible, and wait for her to come around. There's not much else to do, but I wouldn't worry myself into a coma over it." He stood up. "I bid you adieu, Short Man," and ran out of the room towards the bathroom.
Arnold sat stunned. Helga was in love with me? It would explain most of his childhood. He sighed. Grandpa's right. There's not much else for me to do.
From across the room, Sylvia gave an almighty snort. He smiled.
And hell, maybe she does still love me.
A/N: Finally, the pageant's over. Next chapter – "The Boy who blocked his own Shot." Later days.