A/N: Take a wild guess. I dare you. Sorry, I'm not very good with cliffhangers.
Disclaimer – Yada yada yada. I don't own Hey Arnold!
Where to Begin
Chapter 26 – To Kill Ya
Arnold watched a freshman boy double over and vomit in a crystal bowl close to where he was sitting. Arnold wrinkled his nose. "Got another one!" he yelled. "Honestly, when are they going to learn not to drink too much too fast?"
"Ah, it's a freshman. He'll learn soon enough," Gerald said, staring at his hand. "Well, boys, I've got a straight."
Chris Vetter stared at his own. "Damn, I really shouldn't play poker when I'm nearly smashed. I think I've got a full house, but I'm not sure."
"Let's see," Stinky said. "Yep, that's a full house, but I can't remember, does that beat a straight?"
"Doesn't matter because I've got a straight flush," Arnold said smirking.
"Bullshit!" Chris cried.
"Wrong game, dumbass," Gerald said as he drank his beer. "Prove it," he said to Arnold.
"Well, let's see, I've got a six, seven, eight, nine, and ten, all in diamonds. I win the pot."
"Ugh, that stuff is nasty. I wouldn't touch it with a sixty-foot pole," Chris said as he took a shot of what was a mix of something Arnold did not want to know.
Arnold and Gerald both exchanged glances. "Well, at least we won't have to worry about him getting busted for that," Arnold said as he collected his money.
"That's assuming that he doesn't drink himself to death." Gerald made a face. "Seriously, dude, lay off that crap for an hour or two."
"Youse got ten dollars?" Chris asked.
"Yeah," Gerald held the bill in his hand. "Why?"
"It's a deal," Chris said, swiping the note from Gerald's hand. "Nice doing business with you boys, but I'm broke. Arnold, nice playing. Later."
"Amazing. He can steal even when he's drunk," Stinky said, smiling.
"That's easy for you to say, Smiley. He stole my money," Gerald groaned.
"Not near as much as I got outta you," Arnold said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I figured you would have learned your lesson by now."
"Right, right. Arnold's the master poker player, sober or smashed," he growled.
"Right, and right now I'm sober. Just let me go on the record as that." He pocketed his newly acquired cash. "Well, I'm going get something to drink that doesn't contain some form of alcohol."
"Good luck," Stinky said. "This place is worse than Marti Gras."
Arnold shrugged. "Then it'll give me something to do for an hour. Anyways, I'll see you later."
He left the game room just as a fight broke out between two seniors over a game of pool. Arnold headed towards the kitchen where all the food and most of the drinks were. He was amazed at the amount of people throwing up and making out everywhere (and he felt like throwing up when he saw two beefy boys on the water polo team all over each other). He walked into the kitchen and saw a crowd around the bar screaming "Helga! Helga! Helga! Helga!" they all screamed and cheered.
He tapped a sophomore girl on the shoulder. "What's going on?"
"You know that pageant chick, Helga Pataki?"
Arnold nodded.
"She's totally drinking Matt Gordon to the floor! We've lost count of how many tequila shots she's taken."
"WHAT?" Arnold pushed his way forward. Helga did not drink; after watching her mother spend nearly half her adult life drunk, Arnold could only remember her drinking twice, one at her sister's wedding, and only a bit each time. "Helga? HELGA!" he cried.
"ARNOLD! There's my favorite goody-two-shoes. Where have you been? I need you to cheer me on! Right?" she asked the crowd.
"Yeah!" they all cried.
She gestured for him to come near her. "I've got my own fan base," she said, smiling widely.
"Helga, you're drunk, and so is your fan base."
"That doesn't make them any less, Arnold! How dare you be…be…be something-ist to my fans! They're leading me to victory!"
"Helga, if you haven't noticed, Matt's passed out. You won."
Helga looked at the boy beside her. "I won!"
The crowd went crazy again. It was all too much for Arnold.
Helga stood up on the chair and began to jump up and down. "I won! I won! Shots all around 'cause I—ah!"
Arnold caught Helga as she fell down. "Arnold! Where have you been? And haven't you carried me like this before?" she asked, the expression on her face that of a little girl who wonders why she is in her bed when she fell asleep on the coach.
"C'mon." He carried her outside. Her coat was elsewhere, and it was now well below freezing, so he had her sit on the steps and put his coat around her shoulders.
"I won, Arnold," she said.
"I know, Helga. I saw." He stared at her. "Helga, can I ask you a question?"
"Yes, you may," she replied as she leaned against him. "Only one."
"Why did you drink so many shots of tequila?"
She scrunched her face in deep thought. "I think I'm going to throw up."
He helped her up and held her hair back as she vomited in the grass. She quickly slipped back down against the side of the rail, leaning into him so that he had no choice but to put his arm around her.
"I wanted to forget something," she said slowly.
He absentmindedly played with her hair. "What did you want to forget?"
Her placid face turned into a deep frown. "The ring."
He stared at her. "The ring?"
He watched in horror as her eyes welled with tears. "I wanted to forget him and his ring and her."
"Helga," he started slowly. He barely noticed how cold he was getting; all he knew was Helga was in excruciating pain. "Helga, who did you want to forget?"
A tear fell slowly down her cheek. "Jake and Lila."
Arnold's blood ran cold. "What about Jake and Lila?"
A loud sob was his only answer. He cradled Helga as she sobbed uncontrollably, his mind filled with thoughts of different ways of killing Jake Richardson. Whatever he was doing with Lila, it was obviously bad, or else Helga would not have reacted so irrationally.
"I sure he's sleeping with her!" Helga cried.
More hysterical crying followed. Arnold was finding it very hard to keep himself from storming in the house and strangling Jake. He held Helga closer to him.
"I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid," she muttered.
"Helga, you're not stupid. Hell, he fooled all of us, even Phoebe."
"No, no, no, no, Arnold, you knew. You knew!" she cried. "Oh God, why didn't I listen to you?"
He did not feel like listening to Helga regret not listening to him. Really, how was she supposed to know? Arnold acted like any jealous best friend. "Helga, do you want me to drive you home?"
She stared up at him, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. "Please," she whispered.
"Okay, do you remember where you put your coat?"
"I think so."
He helped her up and followed her inside, holding her right arm to make sure she kept her balance. She led him back into the kitchen, where Matt Gordon was now awake and drinking again…Jake Richardson at his side.
"Helga, baby, there you are!" Matt cried. Helga stopped dead, her whole body shaking with anger.
Chris was on the other side of the bar, holding a Pepsi can. "Helga, Arnie, hey!" He snapped his fingers. "Helga, you forgot your coat." He picked up her coat and her purse.
"Meaning she won't need your letter jacket anymore," Jake hissed.
Arnold glared at him, and he noticed Lila was watching wide-eyed from the dining room.
Helga just watched.
"I told you to give up, Arnold. Now get away from my girlfriend," Jake said as he pulled Helga away from Arnold. His letter jacket fell to the floor.
"I'm sure that won't be true for much longer," Arnold said threateningly.
Jake glared at him. "What, d'you try to take advantage of her again?"
The crowd fell silence and watched the three with interest. Arnold watched Gerald and Phoebe push their way in.
"I didn't need to," Arnold said, smiling slightly as he failed to suppress a laugh. "She caught you."
"Excuse me?"
"She caught you, Jake. She caught you getting ready to have sex with Lila Sawyer."
Jake's face turned white. He turned to Helga. "Helga, I don't know what you thought you saw but it wasn't me," he said slowly as placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, finally springing back life.
He dropped his hands. "Helga? Helga, don't you believe me?"
"I saw you. I saw you with that, that slut, and now you try to lie to me?" she cried.
Jake stood still, afraid to say anything.
"Well? Where's your denial now? You fucked her tonight, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?"
"Helga, I—"
"You fucking asshole! DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screamed, jumping out of his reach. Tears filled her eyes. "You slept with her." She swallowed hard. "So, tell me Jake, besides all the times you supposedly slept with me, how many times did you sleep with her?"
Jake still said nothing.
"ANSWER ME, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! HOW MANY TIMES DID YOU SLEEP WITH HER?"
"Once. Helga, I swear, this was the only time. I was drunk, and –"
"Oh, fuck you. Like hell it is, and like hell you were," she hissed. "And how many lies did you tell about me, huh, Jakey?"
"Lies? Helga, I never lied about you," Jake cried.
"BULLSHIT! Matt told me all of them, didn't you?" she demanded as she stared at him.
"Yeah. Those were great stories, Jakey," he said, smiling at Jake.
Helga's eyes narrowed to mere slits. "You fucking asshole. It wasn't enough to cheat on me, you had to lie about me having sex with you!"
Jake's temper burst. "Fine! So I slept with the little whore. So what? It's not like you didn't cheat on me, Miss Holier-than-Thou."
"I kissed him once, and I told you about it. I begged you to forgive me. I never did anything else!"
"Maybe that's true, but the only reason why you never let me touch you is because you were saving yourself for that bastard!" he cried, pointing at Arnold. "Only he decided to be noble and stop pushing you, that or he was scared shitless of what I would do to him. If you had the chance, you would have fucked him in a minute, isn't that right?"
"Oh, go to hell, Jake. Just because you were jealous of him the whole time –"
"AND I THINK I HAD GOOD REASON, HELGA!" He shook his head. "God, every time I turned around there he was, either calling you or getting you ready for that damn pageant or escorting you in that damn thing! Do you think it was easy for me, huh? Watching that son of a bitch try to steal you away from me? Hell, he almost succeeded once, how was I to know he wouldn't try to do it again?"
"But I never let him, did I? DID I?"
Jake laughed coldly. "You know what, Helga, I had this planned from the beginning. A little differently, mind you, but planned from the start."
"Jake, no!" Lila cried.
"No, Lila, she might as well know, and he might as well too."
Helga glared at him. "What are you talking about?" she spat.
"What I am talking about, Miss Helga, is did you not realize I never gave you the time of day before you were chosen for that damn pageant? That I'd been sleeping with Lila on the side for months now?"
Her jaw stiffened.
"Lila hated you. She hated you for having everything that she'd wanted. For all the shit that you've put her through. For the fact that everyone in this school was twisted around your little finger so that you, although just as big of a bitch as she, was loved and accepted by all, while she wasn't. For you having Arnold," he hissed, smirking at her.
Helga's expression remained blank. Arnold could not tell what was going on in her head.
Jake continued after taking a long drink. "So Lila struck up a deal with me. I was to date you, and distract you enough to cause a riff between you and Arnold, affecting both your relationship with him and your ability to perform in the pageant, so Lila could have him and win. And it worked, at least the part of it, right? You've been pissed at him all week."
Helga swallowed hard.
"I agreed because not only would I still get Lila whenever I snapped my fingers, but I could also end up having the untouchable Helga G. Pataki, not to mention driving Arnold crazy with jealousy. After all, he was starting to make a grab for my spot, wasn't he?"
"Looks like that backfired on you," Arnold hissed.
"Shithead, it all backfired, because somehow I actually began to care about you, Helga." He smiled at her. "I really did. And I think we could have been happy. After all, you believed every lie I told you, and if it weren't for Arnold, once again, I could have lied to you again, and everything would have been okay."
The room was filled with silence. Helga was shocked, as was Arnold. He knew Jake was a scumbag, but he never expected this.
He threw his hands in the air. "So that's it, Helga. That's how I manipulated you. So it didn't work out the way we planned," he stepped towards her and leaned into her. "But we still had fun, right?" he whispered, kissing her lightly on the lips.
Arnold had enough. He ran over and tackled Jake, punching him square in the jaw.
"Arnold!" Lila cried.
He stared at her, pure hatred in his eyes. He looked back at Jake, who was now sprawled on the floor. "Well, don't worry to much, Richardson. You'll always have Lila."
He led Helga out of the house and helped her down the steps. She was back in a daze.
"Helga?" He asked as he opened the door for her.
"Please, just don't speak, Arnold."
He nodded, and shut her door. He remind silent as he drove her home. Helga was crying, only this time silently. Arnold felt a lot like crying himself. How could I have let him do this to her? That asshole's screwed everything up. Everything. Helga could have been happy, with or without me. Now she has to deal with all this.
She was asleep by the time they arrived at her house. Arnold was thankful her parents had yet to return. He was not in any shape to deal with them, and neither was she.
He picked her up and carried her upstairs to her room. Her cat pounced on the bed as Arnold laid her down. He pulled off her shoes and her stained blouse, thankful she had a tank top on underneath. He pulled the covers over her, and brushed her hair out of her face. "I just hope you'll get one last night of peace, Helga. Good night."
He returned downstairs, and called his grandpa, explaining the jest of what happened. His grandpa understood, and gave him permission to stay over at Helga's.
He grabbed a bag of frozen peas and laid it over his throbbing hand as he laid down on the couch in the living room. All I know is there will be hell to pay for Jake, Arnold thought as he closed his eyes. But first I have to make sure she'll survive this…
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
Her room was oddly dark when she woke up, considering the fact that her clock read eleven seventeen. She opened her eyes a bit more, and realized the curtains here drawn, drowning out most of the morning light. The curtains are hardly ever closed. She rolled over with difficulty and saw a glass water and two tiny pills lying on top of it. And that's never there.
She closed her eyes. What little light that was in the room made her head feel like she was continually being hit with a saucepan. She pulled the covers over her head.
A loud banging noise brought her away from near sleep. Someone was knocking at her door with what seemed to be a sledgehammer. "What?" she snapped.
"Can I come in?" Arnold's voice asked.
Why's Arnold here? "Yeah, I guess."
He walked in slowly dressed in wrinkled clothes. His eyes had large bags underneath them, and he gingerly was flexing his hand. She narrowed her eyes. "What happened to you?"
"I slept on your couch," he said as he sat down beside her bed, resting against the nightstand.
And that never happens. "Why?"
"Because I wanted to make sure that not only were you taken care of, but also that you didn't do anything incredibly stupid."
She stared at him, and slowly the memory of last night returned to her. "Please tell me that was all a bad dream."
Arnold said nothing.
She sighed. "Great. How many people saw that last night?"
He shrugged. "Probably at least a fourth of the school, maybe more."
She sighed, trying desperately not to cry again. That would cause her poor head too much pain.
"Take the pills," he said, staring straight ahead.
She did as she was told. "How's your hand?"
"Swollen." He began flexing it again. "I should be okay by Monday, but who knows?" He laughed grimly. "I'm just lucky coach gave us today off because he's out of town. Can you imagine having to face Jake this morning?"
"It won't be half as a bad as you as for me whenever I have to see him."
Arnold said nothing.
"I think my head is going to burst." She covered her face with her hands.
"That's what you get for drinking Lord knows how many shots of tequila," he said bluntly.
"I think, under the circumstances, you could at least try to justify my actions." She run a hand through her tangled hair. "If you saw that you'd want to get smashed out of your mind as well."
He said nothing from the floor.
She blew a strand out of her face. "Now what?"
He finally looked at her, the pity in his eyes near enough to make her scream. "You have to play a basketball game in," he looked at his watch. "Seven and a half hours."
She groaned and fell back. "That should be fun."
"Not something I'd like to do with a massive hangover." He raised an eyebrow at her before pulling the comforter off the bed.
"Arnold! What the heck?" she cried.
He stood up, walked across the room, and pulled the curtains open. Helga screamed as the light poured into her room.
"Damnit, Football Head, what's wrong with you?"
He threw the comforter back at her. "Get ready and I'll buy you lunch," he said before shutting the door.
"Well, doesn't that sound like fun!" she cried sarcastically. "Sleeping would be better."
He gave no reply, and Helga climbed out of bed, cursing Arnold the entire way to the bathroom.
¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤
"No, just black coffee," Helga replied to Ray twenty minutes later. Her hair was still wet and she was dressed sloppily in sweats and a Washington University sweatshirt. Arnold was sitting across from her still wearing his clothes from the night before.
"All right, I'll be back with your sandwich," he said to Arnold before leaving.
Helga took a sip of her coffee. "I should've made you barrow some of my clothes. It looks a little suspicious."
He snorted as he drank his Coke. "I doubt I could fit into any of your clothes, Helga."
"You're not that big, Arnold." She laughed. "Heck, sometimes I wonder if you are even any bigger than me."
He glared at her before returning to the newspaper.
"God, I am so stupid, aren't I?" she said after a few minutes of silence. Try as she might, all she could think of was the previous night.
"You're not stupid, Helga. I wouldn't call you that."
She rolled her eyes. "At least not to my face, right?"
He shrugged. "Don't you want to talk about something else?"
She sighed and propped her elbow on the table, her head resting her hand. "All I've been thinking about for the last two and a half weeks is my tangled love-life. It's kinda hard to break away from such rituals."
Arnold blushed, knowing full well that he played a big part in her plight. "Just a suggestion."
She laughed coldly. "It clears up my weekends, that's for sure. And school should be interesting on Monday."
"Thanks," Arnold said as Ray handed him his turkey club. "I wouldn't doubt that."
"Look, Arnold, I just want to thank you for looking after me yesterday and today."
Arnold became fully engrossed in his sandwich.
Helga became equally fascinated with her coffee. "I know how hard this must be for you, and I just want you to know how lucky I feel to have such a great friend."
Friend… He looked at her. "Don't worry about it, Helga. Sadly I think you'll need more than just one great friend next week."
She made a face. "What makes you say that?"
"Your brother-in-law called this morning."
"Oh?" She tried to sound uninterested and stirred her drink in attempt to play up her façade.
"Yeah, your parents will be back early next week."
She groaned. "Great. They loved Jake. They'll be disappointed I let that one get away."
"He also apologized for missing your pageant, said he really wished he could have gone, and wanted to know how you did," Arnold said coolly.
Fire flared in Helga's brown eyes. He knew exactly what she was thinking: if her brother-in-law knew the pageant was last weekend, then Olga did as well.
He really felt bad for Helga's opponents tonight. Helga was normally tough on the floor, but a very, very pissed Helga would be hell itself.
A/N: I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And it burns. Later days.