A/N: Two more days left of school. I can't wait.

Chapter 17 is fixed. A little different, but I still like it.

Disclaimer – I don't own Hey Arnold!

Where to Begin

Chapter 28 – Come Clean

                Helga did not run to Arnold's, although that was where she planned to seek refuge when she ran madly out of the house. His words were no longer pounding in her brain. They had been replaced by Olga's.

                She chewed her lip as the rain continued to fall. She had ran to just a block short of Sunset Arms before stopping. Arnold's had to deal with too much of my drama already. She did not want to go over there, although she knew he would not mind helping her. She cast one last fleeting look at his window before turning around. She was sick of appearing so weak in front of him (though he would never say that). Why this was suddenly so important to her, she did not know, but she knew that he was still hurt from the whole mess (another thing he would never say).

                I'm an idiot, she thought as she started running again. She was still dressed in her uniform, her thin white shirt soaked through and her black skirt was sticking to her legs. She had run out of the house without her keys or any money. Not exactly the smartest thing to do on a rainy night in the middle of a big city.

                She finally reached her destination and rang the doorbell.

                "Helga?" Phoebe asked when she came to the door.

                "Hey," she replied, laughing slightly for some reason. Of course, the look on Phoebe's face when she saw a very pathetic-looking Helga was somewhat comical, but Helga figured it was too much stress that was causing her to crack up.

                Phoebe looked her up and down in disbelief. "Well, hurry up and get in before you drown."

                Ten minutes later, Helga was sitting cross-legged on the floor in Phoebe's living room, dressed in Phoebe's clothes and wrapped up in a western-style blanket. She sipped the hot chocolate that Phoebe's mother had made for her before she went to bed. Phoebe sat down across from her, collecting her homework.

                "Well, Helga, I suppose that you wouldn't mind me asking why you decided to drop by dripping wet at our doorstep at," she looked at the clock, "five minutes after eleven at night?"

                Helga grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, but I didn't know where else to go. Was your mom mad?"

                "No, just confused, I think. You didn't answer me."

                She sighed. "The fam's home."

                "Oh." She paused. "Oh. Well, what did you find out?"

                Helga gripped the cup so tightly she was afraid it would break. "Olga knew exactly what day the pageant was. She even told my parents they would have a better time up in Toronto than at the pageant."

                Phoebe looked unsure of what to do. "Oh, Helga!" she cried before throwing herself at her. "Oh, Helga, that's terrible."

                "Well, that's just the Pataki blood showing in her." She sighed. "Eric seemed genuinely sorry for missing it, although I don't think he knew about it until later."

                Phoebe made a face. "I always thought he was too good for your sister."

                "That makes two of us."

                Phoebe stared at her. "Well, now what?"

                Helga shook her head. "I don't really know. I guess start to put my life back together."

¤ -¤ - ¤

                Helga yawned. She was tired from having to run back home early in the morning and grab some clothes and her book bag. Against her better judgment she let a note on the kitchen counter to tell her parents she would be staying at Phoebe's for a while. She figured she might as well; Olga may miss torturing her and demand her parents call the police to make Helga come home, and that was not how she wanted the situation to unfold. She would come home whenever she damn well felt like it.

                The library was nearly empty. She read page fifty-seven of her book for what seemed like the fifth time. Hemmingway must've been drunk when he said all modern American literature comes from Huck Finn, she thought, rubbing her forehead in attempt to ease the headache brewing behind her eyes. I need a vacation.

                "Can I sit down?"

                She bit her lip out of pure frustration. "Get the hell away from me."

                "Helga, please, I need to talk to you."

                "Are you a complete idiot? I talked to you on Friday. I talked to you yesterday, and I'm honestly surprised that you have the audacity after that to come and try to talk to me again." She glared up at him.

                Jake really looked pitiful. His hair was disheveled, as were his clothes. He was paler than usual, making the dark circles under his eyes more noticeable. Helga was definitely looking like she had come out at the better end of the relationship, and she was the one who was cheated on. He took in a deep breath. "Helga, I'm so sorry about that. I just…I just lost my temper. I mean, I was drunk the first time and Arnold and Lila and…" he stopped. "It was all too much."

                She gave him a long stare before pushing the chair across from her into his legs. "Whatever you have to say to me, do it fast," she snapped.

                He sat down and was quiet for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts.

                "Before I die, Richardson."

                "I never meant it to turn out this way, Helga. You have to believe that."

                She turned a page in her book. "You know, your word doesn't count for a lot anymore."

                "I know." He held his hands open on the table. "And in the beginning it was for everything I said it was." Helga noticed he was sidestepping repeating exactly what he had planned in the beginning. Either he did not want to cause her more pain and anger, or he wanted to make himself sound as best as possible (she guessed more the second than the first). "But the more I got to know you, the more I realized this wasn't a game. Helga, I cared for you. I still do. Hell, I half-way think that at this point I'm in love with you, which is why I did what I did, because I was scared that I felt that for you, and I know that I can never have you again. I lost that chance, and I'll be kicking myself for a long time because of it, but please, please don't walk away from this thinking that I only wanted to hurt you, because in the end, I promise you, I didn't."

                She looked bored, but in reality she was drinking in his words. Looking back, she could see all the warning signs, such as why he forgave her so quickly when she kissed Arnold, but many of the things were too sincere to contradict the fact that somewhere along the lines he messed up and actually stared to care for her. The look on his face, so unbelievably pathetic yet open, so unlike his normal bravado and cockiness, proved he was not conning her again. "Why did you do it?" she whispered.

                "I don't know anymore. I thought I did, but I'm not sure of anything anymore, only that I love you and that I will never get a chance to be with you ever again." He rubbed his hair furiously, making it look much worse. "I'm a mess right now, Helga, and I know I deserve it. I'll change because of this, I know that, but I have to know something."

                She eyed him. I thought I was the only one who needed, and deserved for that matter, answers. "What's that?"

                He seemed afraid to ask her. "Are you in love with him?" he asked after he finally found the courage.

                "With who?"

                "Arnold."

                She sat her book down. "Probably. I'm not really sure of anything either."

                He hesitated. "What about when we were…still together?"

                She sighed. "At times, yes, but at times I felt just as strongly for you."

                He looked away, heartbroken.

                "Jake, you have to understand. I loved the boy for years when we were younger. Yes, love," she said as a skeptical look washed over his morose face. "I managed to get over it for a while; I practically had to in order to save my sanity. After all, you saw him chase after Lila."

                He gave her a sympathetic look but did not miss the edge of her voice when she said the name.

                "But the whole pageant thing and everything else has just made me realize that I probably do." She sighed. "I don't really want to think about it right now, I've got other things on my mind, but to me perfectly honest with you, our relationship wouldn't have lasted much longer. I was too confused about how I felt about you and how I felt about Arnold that I would've ended it and probably spent a month avoiding both of you until my head was on straight. I hate merry-go-rounds, literally and metaphorically." She smiled slightly. "It never would've lasted for forever, and I think both you and I know that." She laughed. "I just felt like you understood me, but I guess you never really did at all."

                Jake looked thoughtful. "No, I guess I didn't." He stared intently at her. "And I still managed to fall in love with you."

                "I'm sorry about that," she said softly, and the two spent the next several minutes looking anywhere but at each other.

                "So that's that, I guess," Jake said.

                "Yeah, a bitter end, but at least it got an end."

                He stood up. "I'm so sorry, Helga—"

                "I know, Jake. I know." She paused. "So am I."

                He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "So this is it, huh?"

                She ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah."

                He kissed her forehead. "Goodbye, Helga, my Miss America."

                Helga managed to choke back her tears. "Bye, Jake."

                He gave her one last fleeting look before leaving.

                She picked up her book, hiding her face as a tear rolled down her cheek. "What's done is done, and I think Huck would agree with me."

¤ -¤ - ¤

                "You look terrible, and I mean that in the nicest possible way."

                Helga did not even have to look up from her salad. "Hey, Arnold."

                He glanced down at her plate as he sat down. "Since when do you eat rabbit food?"

                "Give it a break, Arnold. I know why you're here."

                He snorted. "Helga, I eat lunch with you practically every day. I hardly would call my presence a mystery."

                "Phoebe talked to you and persuaded you to talk some sense into me because you are apparently the only one who can," she said hollowly.

                Arnold struggled for a moment to form words. "This whole thing is becoming rather cliché, isn't it?" He eyed her. "Somehow I don't think running away is what's on your mind at the moment."

                "I talked to Jake this morning."

                Arnold's eyes narrowed, and Helga noticed the grip on his water tighten. "And what did he have to say?" His face softened as he looked her up and down. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

                She shook her head. "No, it was kinda like closure, although I don't believe in that shit." She sighed. "He said he loved me."

                Arnold watched her carefully. "And?"

                "And I told him I was sorry for that." She finally looked at Arnold. "It's all over, Arnold. Jake and I are through, and he knows it. It's okay now."

                "Are you okay?"

                She bit her lip. "I don't know. I mean, I don't want to even be around him, but still…" her words trailed off.

                He put his hand on her shoulder. "You have to go home, Helga. It's the only way you can move on from all this."

                She stared at him. "I'm so sorry, Arnold!" she cried and ran out of the lunchroom.

                He watched her, deciding against running after her. Helga needed to figure things out for herself. In spite of himself, Arnold could not help but smile. Helga and Jake were finally over. She can finally be mine. He frowned. But can she handle it?

               

¤ -¤ - ¤

                Helga slammed the door. "Where's Olga?" she bellowed. Her plan had been to be rational and understanding, but that all went out the window the minute she stepped inside her house. The emotional stress of the past few weeks had finally caused her to crack, and she was seeing red.

                Eric crept slowly into the kitchen. "Good afternoon, Helga. How was your day?"

                She glared at him. "Oh, grow a pair, please! Where's my sister?" she demanded.

                Eric swallowed hard. "She's-she's—"

                "Out with it!"

                "She's upstairs," he said quickly, his face white. "Helga, please, sit with me for a moment."

                "Eric, I've had one hell of a shitty week and a half, and I'm about to explode. I highly doubt you want to be on the receiving end of it."

                "Helga, please –"

                "Oh, I won't hit her," Helga snapped as she headed upstairs. At least not too hard.

                She threw open Olga's room. "You fucking bitch."

                Olga turned around from her vanity. "Baby sister!"

                "DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

                Olga swallowed hard. "Where have you been?" she said in a cold tone completely alien to her.

                "Away from this hellhole."

                "Don't call it that. Mommy and Daddy do a lot for you—"

                "Correction, Olga, Bob and Miriam do a lot for you!" Helga shot back. "Oh, wait, they did give a damn about me, so you had to steal them away to Toronto on the biggest day of my life!"

                Olga looked away.

                "Damn it, Olga, I deserve an explanation! You knew about the pageant, so why the hell would you do that?"

                She remained silent.

                Anger pounded through Helga. She picked up a vase from Olga's nightstand and threw it across the room, narrowly missing her sister's head. "ANSWER ME!"

                "I don't know!" she cried. Olga burst into tears, her sobs deafening.

                Helga could not believe her ears. "What the hell do you mean you don't know?"

                "I don't know, I don't know!" She sniffed. "It's not fair!"

                "Tell me, Olga, how the fuck is it not fair for you?"

                "I live 3000 miles away from them, damn it! You live in the same house as them!"

                "Not by choice! I'd trade places with you in an instant!"

                "WOULD YOU STOP IT, HELGA?" She was panting. "They love you too much to treat them like that!"

                "You don't get it, do you?" Helga was in disbelief. "How the hell could you take them away from me when I need them? Are you that jealous of me?"

                Olga's sobs grew louder.

                "Shut up and answer me!"

                "Yes, alright, yes!" she cried. "All they did while they were in Canada was talk about you. I had to lie about the pageant to get them to come. I said it was a preliminary at your school and that you would win easily, so they didn't need to go. When they came home they still thought the actual one this weekend."

                Helga stared at her in disbelief. "They didn't forget about me?"

                She laughed. "No. No, they didn't forget about you." She took in a deep breath. "They're just forgetting about me!"

                Helga watched dumbly as her sister bawled her eyes out. She never thought about how Olga had taken the move to Toronto or how she felt about being so far away from her family. She had always been Bob and Miriam's golden girl, but while she really was not entirely being replaced by Helga, she was being replaced. Olga no longer was the center of their world; that would be work. Her parents missing the pageant was not an act of terrible parenting. It was an act of desperation. She walked over to her sister. "Olga, they're not forgetting about you."

                "Yes, they are!"

                "Then you're stupider than I give you credit for. So maybe things are different now, but you have to except that. Let go, Olga. Start your own family and let go of this one."

                Olga reached for a tissue and blew her nose. Below Bob and Miriam were talking to Eric.

                Helga walked out of the room.

                "Helga, wait!"

                She turned around.

                "Are we okay now?"

                Helga scoffed. "Olga, we'll never be okay. I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn't change it." She sighed. "For once in your life please be realistic. We're just too different. We'll never have that perfect sister relationship that you long for, so please let go of that as well. I need to go talk to Mom and Dad."

                Olga continued to cry as Helga left, but she did not care. As far as she was concerned, Olga should be happy she did not beat the tar about of her. Helga walked down stairs, meeting Eric at the bottom. "She's all yours now," she hissed. She pushed him out of her way and continued into the kitchen. "I'm sorry for running away," she said softly.

                "Helga! Oh, honey, we were so worried!" Miriam cried she and Bob ran over to Helga.

                "I know," she said tearfully.

                "Oh, Helga, I can't believe we missed your pageant. Poor Olga was misinformed!" She squeezed her daughter tightly.

                "It's okay, Mom." Helga pulled away. "I know you wanted to be there."

                Bob looked down at her. "You okay, little lady?"

                "I am now."

¤ -¤ - ¤

                Arnold looked through the window at the three in Helga's kitchen. He had been walking trying to clear his head, and he managed to find his way to her house while in his reverie. He knew it was not Helga's fairytale ending, but who ever really ends up with theirs?  He smiled to himself as he walked away.

                "Welcome back, Helga."

A/N: Almost to the end. Later days.