A/N: Welcome to the second half of the story. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!, or the song by Brand New for which the chapter is named for.
Where to Begin
Chapter 25 – The Boy who blocked his own Shot
"If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand,
I hope you find what you want,
I already know what I am.
And if it makes you less sad, we'll start talking again,
And you can tell me how vile I already know that I am.
I'll grow old, start acting my age,
I'll be a brand new day in a life that you hate…
Holding on to yourself the best that you can,
You are the smell before rain,
You are the blood in my veins…"
Arnold was having a terrible week.
He spent the majority of Monday being ignored by Helga and the rest of the group that went out after the pageant, with the exception of Gerald, who wanted to know that the hell he had snorted that made him lose every single brain cell in his head. He had to listen to Jake go on and on about Helga in the locker room before practice and was on the receiving end of a beating from Jake during their scrimmage because Arnold took Jake's spot among the starters. Tuesday was slightly better, but only because everyone was talking to him again, except Helga, who now was avoiding him completely, which was quite a feat considering how many classes they had together and their lockers were next to each other. He managed a B minus on his chemistry test, but was back on the second team in practice, which ran late, meaning he could not make it to Helga's sectional game. Worst yet, Lila had called him that night and managed to talk to him for three hours straight before he finally found a pause long enough to say good-bye. It was too late to call Helga, and he had a couple hours of homework to do. Also on Tuesday he received a couple nasty letters from Callie and Josh, which were along the lines of Gerald's reaction the day before. Arnold was really beginning to wish he could turn back time to about a month prior.
It was now last period on Wednesday. He had not seen Helga all day, and he was anxiously waiting for the last bell to ring. It did, finally, and he watched as Helga quickly left the room as Lila once again tied him up.
He quickly grabbed his books. "Sorry, Lila, but I have to go," he quickly interrupted her. He jumped over the desks to get away from her and to the door.
"Arnold!"
"I'll talk to you later," he automatically called as he raced into the halls. He sprinted towards the junior hallway, nearly knocking over his history teacher. He ignored his reaction and continued on.
"Phoebe!" he cried breathlessly as he stopped at her locker.
"Arnold, what have you been doing?" she asked as she wrinkled her nose at him.
"Why is Helga avoiding me?" he asked, ignoring her question.
She returned the favor and continued to pack her bag.
"Phoebe, please. I want to know. Why won't she talk to me?"
"Do you honestly blame her?" Phoebe snapped.
He clinched his teeth together. "Phoebe, could you please remember for one moment that she's not the only one who's in pain over this?"
She stopped, holding her physics book just above the shelf in her locker. Phoebe stared at him.
"Why is Helga avoiding me?" he asked again.
"She's confused," Phoebe said simply.
"About what?" Arnold scoffed.
"About you and Jake," she retorted reproachfully. "If you'd really notice what's right in front of your nose, you'd see that she hasn't been around Jake that much either." She shoved her French book in her bag. "Or anyone else for that matter," she muttered.
"Why isn't she talking to you either?" Arnold asked, his breathing back to normal.
Phoebe looked directly at him. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
Arnold stared blankly at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Phoebe sighed heavily, clearly not interested in the conversation, or in helping Arnold, at all. "Let's just say I don't have the same feelings about you and Helga as my boyfriend does." She shut her locker and walked away.
Arnold was stunned. It took him a moment to realize that Phoebe was no longer standing beside him. "Wait! Phoebe!" he cried as he again dashed down the hall, though it was easier this time because a majority of the students had already filled out.
She politely stopped and turned around. "Yes?"
"Why don't you agree with Gerald?"
Phoebe looked at him, her eyes hard. "Because, Arnold, Jake's crazy about Helga, and for a while she was about him as well, at least until you decided that you were finally going to lose what you've had for so long." She spun on her heel, but Arnold grabbed her arm and made her face him.
"What the hell does that mean?" Murder was in his eyes and he knew it, but Phoebe looked as cool as ever.
"It means, Arnold, that I think you are confusing the girl and keeping her from being happy for something that can't work."
Arnold was dumbfounded. "Why don't you think Helga and I would be good together?"
Phoebe took in a deep breath. "Because, Arnold, she was in love with you for ten years, and you never even noticed! Somehow she managed to get over you and still be a great friend to you, and now you are confusing her and causing her needless pain!" She ripped her arm out of his grip. "Give up, Arnold, please, and spare the both of you a lot of pain."
He did not stop her or go after her this time. He would not know what to say even if he did. Well, there's two people who have said Helga once loved me. He looked back towards his locker. Helga was not there. Defeated, he slowly walked in the empty hallway. I can't give up. She means way too much to me.
"There you are," a cold voice said behind him.
Arnold turned around and found himself staring up at the last person he wanted to talk to at the moment. Disgusted, he turned right back around and began packing his bag. "So it would seem. Glad you can finally tell if people are really there or not, Richardson," Arnold said lamely.
"Would you give up already?" Jake snapped behind him.
Twice in about two minutes time Arnold had been told to give up what probably was the most important to him. His temper was uncharacteristically flaring, and he unwisely retorted, "Now Jake, you're going to have to specify. There are several things I'm going after at the moment, including a B in Chem II and working enough to finally buy a car, or are you talking about things that are currently yours, such as your starting spot or your girlfriend?"
Arnold barely finished by the time that Jake had grabbed him and whirled him back to face him. "What the fuck did you just say?"
Arnold somehow managed to shove Jake's hands off his chest. "I was merely telling you about my current aspirations. I'd tell you more, but I'm going to be late for practice here pretty quick."
Jake shoved him, and Arnold's head began ringing from the impact of hitting the lockers. "Stay away from her," he hissed.
"Richardson, are you really that blind? If you haven't noticed, Helga hasn't talked to me all week. I highly doubt you would call that a threat." 'Course, apparently she hasn't been talking to you either.
"Right, and it better stay that way." He pinned him against the lockers again. "You can't win at this, Arnold." He shoved him one last time. "See you at practice."
Arnold watched him walk away, and quickly gathered his things. Looking forward to it. He stared at his practice bag. Maybe it's time to start fighting fire with fire…
However, he could not shake the feeling that Jake was not just talking about Helga…
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Helga yawned loudly as she walked out of the locker room. She was tired beyond belief, but was glad that she could go immediately home and not to pageant practice. She smiled broadly. That was all over now, with the exception of the banquet. She had one a scholarship, and the monetary value of it was enough for her to agree all the pain was worth it.
Her thoughts briefly rested on an article that had appeared in the newspaper the day before. One of the editorials had covered the pageant, and it questioned the integrity of the affair. The writer claimed that the vote between her and Sarah had been close, and that it was only "the bitter anger of a washed up clothing designer," meaning Johnny Stitches, and "the presence of the daughter of one of high officials of the Hillwood Women's Club" that led Helga to her second place finish. He mentioned her as Big Bob Pataki's daughter and former Miss Hillwood Olga Pataki's little sister, reminding everyone of Olga's dominance in the pageant (that part Helga had not liked much), but he continued on saying that Helga far surpassed her older sister in "all aspects that makes a young woman deserving of such a title." It certainly made her feel a bit better because she could not stop herself from believing that she should have won, not Sarah, but that feeling was quickly passing. She was also enjoying the empty house; her parents had not returned. All she had heard from them was a message on the machine from her mother saying they would not be back before the weekend. They would miss the rest of the sectional tournament, but Helga decided that she would not want them at the games anyways.
Loud cheering from the auxiliary gym cut about her thoughts. She walked towards the door and opened it slightly, and her eyes widened to saucers.
"Is this what you truly want to do, Arnold?" the boys' coach asked.
Helga's eyes settled on the skinny blond boy, who was standing with several of the starters with a basketball tucked under his arm. Arnold nodded.
"Well, ordinarily I would say no, seeing as how this could disrupt team chemistry, but by the way you've all been playing it's about time someone lit a fire under your asses." He crossed his arms. "I've spoken with the starters, and since they can't come to a decision on who they believe is best for the number two spot, I'll agree to your terms, Arnold. Whoever wins will start tomorrow." He smiled grimly. "Let's see what you boys' got."
Helga searched for Arnold's opponent, and she took in a sharp breath when her eyes settled on Jake. What the hell? ARNOLD! Yes, Jake had been struggling lately, but what was Arnold thinking? Her eyes narrowed. Oh God, he better not be doing this because of me…
She watched as Arnold laid moves on Jake, moves that he had perfected playing against not only Gerald, but also her. Jake was falling for every shot fake and was constantly a step behind Arnold on defense. Arnold was flawless and was playing better than she had ever seen him play. He was continually stopping Jake on defense, and she watched as he managed to block Jake's shot and ran quickly down the floor for a lay-up.
Their coach blew the whistle after about three minutes. "Well, I think I've seen enough. Arnold, it looks like you'll be starting at guard tomorrow."
Arnold smiled and was congratulated by the entire team. Gerald was practically hanging on him, he was so happy.
"Jake, you step it up, you'll have that spot back. Now everyone on the line!"
Helga watched Jake begrudgingly run to the end line. What kind of coach can willingly turn two teammates against each other like that? She swallowed hard as she watched the boys run. I want Arnold to start, but not like this! Oh God, Jake!
They finished running and huddled to end practice. She waited in the hallway for Jake, thankful that Gerald and Chris were too busy congratulating Arnold to notice Helga standing behind the door. He finally came out, the last one, with his head hanging low. He was almost at the door when she heard her coach talking to him.
"I didn't want it to be like that, Jake, but I needed to do something to get you back in the game. Look, you're just going through a rough streak, and Arnold's doing a great job right now. Still, you've got the experience over him. If you prove you can still lead this team, you're back up there. All right?"
"Yes sir," Jake said somewhat automatically, and he finally walked out.
"Jake," she said behind him.
His face brightened as he turned to face her. "Helga, I was hoping you'd wait for me."
She walked to his side, and he took her hand as they walked to the parking lot. "I'm sorry," she said.
"What for?"
"I saw everything."
He sighed. "Yeah, that sucks, but I guess I'll just have to work harder, right?"
She smiled weakly for him. "Yeah."
He grinned as they walked outside into the bitter cold. "So, tell me, Miss Pataki, is the sixth man good enough for the runner-up and should-be Miss Hillwood?"
She giggled. "More than good enough," she said as he leaned down to kiss her softly. However, thoughts of Arnold's actions were still in the back of her mind.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
"Hail Caesar!" Harold cried.
"Hail Caesar!" the crowd chanted.
"Hail Irish!"
"Hail Irish!"
"Hail Chatard!"
"Hell no!"
Helga clapped along with the rest of the crowd. There was about minute to go in the ball game, and West Hillwood was up by thirteen. Arnold in his first game as a starter had played the one the best games of his career, putting up twelve points, six assists, and ten points. Jake had managed six, all from threes, when he had been in, but Arnold had played so well Jake was rarely needed.
"Let's go, Jake!" she cried as he entered the game, but her voice was drowned out by the rest of the crowd that was cheering for Arnold as he went to the bench. He was laughing with Gerald, who was also done for the night as the second string went in to finish the game.
She angrily turned back to the game and watched as Jake pulled up and missed a three. She mentally groaned. He shouldn't be shooting threes now, and he knows it. This has shaken him up more than I think their bastard of a coach realizes.
"And the final score is West Hillwood 78, Bishop Chatard 65. The Fighting Irish play next Tuesday at Arlington High School, so be sure to come out and support our boys, and tomorrow the girls will be playing the semi-finals at the East Hillwood High Sectional against Marion Central, so we all hope to see you there in the quest for the crown."
` "Exciting game, wasn't it?" asked Callie, who had come instead of going to her own school's game.
"Not really. We got a hold of this one early."
Callie shrugged. "So, tell me, when did Arnold become a starter?" she prompted, hoping for Helga to start gushing over Arnold.
"When he challenged Jake for his spot and won," she snapped.
"What? Are you sure that's how it happened?" Callie's voice was higher.
"I was there, Cal, so I'm pretty sure."
"What the hell is he thinking?" she muttered.
"Obviously not a lot," Helga spit. Callie watched her through wide eyes. "C'mon, let's go find Jake and Phoebe."
Callie noticed that she did not mention Gerald or Arnold, but she followed with interest. They walked by Arnold, who was being interviewed for the eleven o'clock news, and Callie shook her head as Helga walked by without a glance in his direction.
"Callie! What are you doing here?" Arnold asked as he ran after her a few minutes later.
"I came to meet Helga. Congrats on starting," she said as she hugged him.
"Thanks."
"Yes, Arnold, congratulations are in order, aren't they?" Helga asked him, sarcasm dripping from every word.
He stared at her, his smile never faltering. "Aren't you happy for me, Helga?"
She smiled brightly. "Of course I am, Arnold. It's admirable to see someone want something so much to endanger a team's chemistry for his own personal advances."
His face went blank, and he struggled to find words. "Helga, I did what I thought was best for the team."
"And we know you always follow your best judgment, right, Arnold?"
He swallowed hard, not knowing what to say.
Her smile grew, and her eyes hardened. "Well, Arnold, I would come celebrate with you, but I wouldn't want to impose, although you probably want me to come, I have to think of what is best in terms of Jake and me."
He was staring down at her with a mixture of pain, anger, and awe.
She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Again, congratulations, Arnold. You truly are amazing."
He watched her leave, every ounce of happiness in his body now gone.
"I messed up, didn't I?"
"That's sugarcoating it just a little. What the hell were you thinking, Arnold?" Callie demanded.
"I let my emotions get the best of me, okay? Jake threatened me with a whole load of crap, and I saw an opportunity that I couldn't pass up." He seemed to be searching the air for the right words. "You saw us out there! We played better than we have all year. I'm not saying that's just because of me, but Gerald, Stinky, and I all play together all the time, and the rest of them can just play a lot better without Jake breathing down everybody's neck!" He wiped the sweat from his face. "It really is better for the team, I swear!"
She sighed. "Then I guess for a while that's all the glory you will have." Callie gave him one last sympathetic smile before leaving to join Helga.
"Tough break, man," Gerald said behind him.
"You know, your girlfriend doesn't like the idea of me and Helga much either."
"Oh, yeah, I was hoping you wouldn't find out about that."
Arnold merely shrugged. "You know, Gerald, not to scare you, but it's times like these that being gay doesn't sound that bad. Well, minus the whole having sex with guys thing, but at least I wouldn't have to deal with girls."
Gerald watched Arnold walk away. "Man, I hope that girl comes around here pretty quick. He's cracking up," he said aloud to himself.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
"Helga, baby, I have got to admit you looked pretty damn fine out there running circles around all those girls."
Helga smiled weakly at Matt Gordon as she stepped inside his house, two of her teammates behind her. "Thanks, Matt, and you look pretty good drunk."
"Thanks, Helga baby. Find me after a while. We'll see if we can work something out."
"I'd love to, Matt, but I'm afraid my boyfriend'd have a problem with it."
"Arnold?" Matt asked as he drowned another beer.
"No. I'm dating Jake Richardson, remember?" she hissed darkly.
"Right. Ol' Jakey. That's right, I remember all those stories now."
Helga looked at him strangely. "What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing. Hey everybody, the girls of the evening are here!" He put his arm around her, his hand resting against her left breast. "You need help mingling with everybody?"
"No, I'll be fine." She pushed him away. "Later, Matt."
"Adrienne!" He cried, forgetting about Helga as her teammate walked in with a much shorter skirt on than Helga. "Adrienne, sweetie, can you show me again that lovely stroke of yours that makes all those threes?"
Helga left Adrienne to deal with Matt on her own. "Alexis!"
The pretty senior smiled as she turned to face Helga. "Hi, Helga. Congrats on the win."
"Thanks. Just one more, and than we're sectional champs. Again," she said laughing. "Anyways, have you seen Jake?"
Alexis looked around. "Oh, I actually haven't for a while. You two didn't come together?"
"No, we had to stay and watch the other game so we could scout the team we're playing tomorrow. Jake wanted to get here right away."
"Well, I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Good luck, though. Matt's dad's townhouse is huge, if you haven't noticed." She rolled her eyes. "Personally I think they're both compensating for something."
Helga laughed. "Yeah. Anyways, thanks Alexis. I'm going to look for him, so I'll see you later."
"Okay. Good luck!"
Helga looked around. The house was nearly packed with people. How the hell am I going to find him? She spotted one of the boys on Jake's team, Chris Vetter. "Chris!"
He turned around, a wide grin on his face. "Helga G. Pataki! To what do I owe this wonderful meeting to?"
Poor little bastard's drunk. "I was looking for Jake. Have you seen him?"
Chris chewed his lip. "I think I saw him go upstairs a couple of minutes ago. Looked like he was looking for someone." Chris smiled at Helga. "Musta been you."
"Thanks, Chris. I'll start looking up there."
"Bye, Helga G. Pataki!"
As Helga walked slowly up the stairs she secretly wished she was Harry Potter. If she was she could use her Invisibility Cloak to get away from all the people who were stopping her to either congratulate her on their win or to hit on her, and she could use the Marauder's Map to find out where Jake was. I really need to get a life, she laughed at herself. Or at least some new reading material.
"Excuse me. Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me," she kept saying, narrowly squeezing through the crowd.
"Whoa," a freshman boy said as she walked by him. He nudged his friend, who was watching a girl dance on a table, and caused him to spill his beer on Helga.
"Uh," she said she looked at her shirt.
"Oh, man, I'm so sorry, Helga. I'll buy you a new shirt, I—I," he stammered.
She looked at him. "Do I know you?"
"No, but I know you. Everyone does. You're the chick from the pageant." He seemed amazed to be in her presence.
"Yeah, well, thanks, I guess. And don't worry about the shirt, I don't even like it." Well, that was true. It was one that Rhonda bought her. "But do you by any chance know where the bathroom is?"
"Yeah." He was ecstatic to help her out. "Last door on the right on the second floor. I just threw up in there like twenty minutes ago."
Helga made a face. "Um, thank you." She started to walk away. "Don't drink and drive," she said, looking at them. Well, if they're going to practically worship me I might as well put some good sense into them.
"We can't drive yet," the boy said. "But dude, when we do, we'll be sure not to do that, Helga."
"Right," she said. Well, it was worth a try.
She slowly walked up the rest of the stairs. Let's see. Last door on the right. That little runt better be right. She slowly turned the knob and walked in.
The room not a bathroom, but a bedroom, and Helga was met with the sound of feminine moaning when she opened the door. In the moonlight from the window she could see the girl was sitting topless (though thankfully her back was to Helga. She could see the shirt and bra on the floor) on the boy's lap, her legs around his waist. She could not tell who the boy was. Well, this isn't the bathroom. Damn freshman. She was closing the door when a flash of red caught her eye. She opened the door slowly again, and she watched as the boy's hands moved up the girl's back, a familiar large, red ring on the ring finger of the boy's right hand. The girl moaned again, and Helga was able to figure about her identity.
She slowly closed the door, feeling sick. Forgetting about her shirt, she ran downstairs. "Matt! Matt Gordon!"
"Helga baby," he purred as she met him at the bottom of the stairs. "You rang?"
"How's about finding me a drink?" I suddenly want to forget everything in my head.
A/N: Well, I'm screwed on my NCAA brackets (I picked Stanford over Kentucky. Damn). Oh well, it's just basketball. Later days.