A/N: Finally, the source of inspiration of the whole fic is revealed. Thank you, BFS!
Disclaimer – I don't own Hey Arnold!
Where to Begin
Chapter 29 – Love's Labor Lost
"How do I look?"
"Like an overgrown penguin."
Arnold rolled his eyes as he smoothed out the sleeve of his tuxedo. I should have known better than to ask Grandpa for fashion advice. "Thanks, Grandpa."
"No problem, Short Man." He took a large bite of his sandwich. "Speaking of which, that girl isn't going to wear heels, is she?"
"Grandpa, I'm not that short anymore. I'm a good four inches taller than Helga."
"Really? Who'd a thunk it?" Phil frowned. "Where's your Grandma?"
Arnold shrugged but watched with mild interest as his grandmother slowly walked down the stairs humming "God Save the Queen."
"Lordy, Pookey, we're not in England anymore!" Phil cried.
"I've come to see Prince Edward off," she said in a high, English accent. She was dressed as if she planed to go the Miss Hillwood Pageant Banquet with Arnold. By the look and smell of the dress Arnold guessed it was over thirty years old. He could not help but wrinkle his nose as she hugged him. "You have a good time with that wonderful princess of yours, Eddie. And behave yourself, for the Crown's sake."
Arnold laughed. "No problem, Grandma." He picked up his coat as a horn sounded outside. "I'll be back by twelve."
"Bye, Arnold!"
"Au revie, Eddie!"
Arnold was shaking his head as he quickly ran out to Gerald's car. Phoebe was already in the front seat. "Hurry, Arnold!" she cried as he slid into the back seat. "It looks like it could rain anytime."
He stared out the window into the black sky. "Well, that could be bad." He looked at the clock. "You're running late."
Phoebe cast a dark look at Gerald. "Well, we would've been on time had someone not had to spend a half hour primping his hair."
"Hey, I look good, thank you very much."
Arnold sat back as they continued arguing, glad that for the past two weeks he and Helga had been on good terms, much unlike Gerald and Phoebe. Their relationship seemed to be taking a turn for the worse, Ike and Tina Turner-style, minus the domestic violence. He smiled to himself as he thought of Helga. She seemed to be getting along well with her parents, although she was currently angry with them because they were out of town and thus unable to attend the banquet, but she knew it was nothing they could help. Business was business. Olga and Eric were gone, and she was once again happily home alone with her cat.
Gerald and Phoebe were still shouting when they reached Helga's house. "I'll go get her," Arnold said, although he doubted either heard him. He sighed and ran up Helga's stoop. He did not need to ring the doorbell; Helga opened the door as soon as he reached the stop step.
"Obviously we're going for the fashionable late route tonight, yes?" she said sarcastically as she slipped out the door. She glared at him as he stood staring at her, eyes wide and mouth open. "I'm up here, Football Head."
He smiled shyly. "You look beautiful, Helga." Her blonde hair was piled softly on top of her head with a few curls escaping, framing her face. He somehow thought it was fitting that she would be wearing a pink dress.
She blushed. "Thank you, Arnold. But why isn't my date escorting me to the car?"
Arnold groaned. "Because your date is preoccupied at the moment with his girlfriend." He motioned to the car.
"They're fighting again?"
"Should make for an interesting evening," Arnold said as they began walking back to the car.
She shrugged. "Who wouldn't love a visit from Ike and Tina, minus the domestic violence?"
Arnold smiled. "My point exactly." He and Helga spent the rest of the car ride playing "I Spy" while Phoebe and Gerald continued arguing about anything and everything, including the color of her hair. Arnold leaned over to Helga. "How about we let them do what they want tonight, and we'll just try to stay away?" he whispered.
"Agreed."
Thankfully they arrived at the Women's Club shortly thereafter, and Helga and Arnold quickly hopped out of the car, Gerald and Phoebe slowly descending. Helga grabbed Gerald's arm, nearly knocking him over. "C'mon, we're late enough as it is."
Arnold turned to Phoebe who was glaring at the two running away. "Is everything okay?"
"What the hell do you think, Arnold?" she snapped.
He did not say anything more as they climbed the steps into the magnificent building. Tiny Christmas lights hung from the trees and tall, old-fashioned lampposts laminated the walk. The light from inside the building made it glow against the dark night sky. "Name?" the man at a podium just inside the door asked.
"Arnold. I'm with the crew, and this is my guest," he replied, gesturing to Phoebe, who reluctantly smiled.
"Right. Table twelve with Miss Pataki and guest, and Miss Hayeworth, who is with a Mr. Whitman." He snapped his fingers. "Horatio will show you to your table."
A very large man who looked quite awkward in his tux led the two to their table. Callie looked gorgeous as usual beside Josh, who looked quite uncomfortable in his pinstriped tux. Arnold raised an eyebrow at the two, only to receive the same from Callie and Josh.
"Why are you here with Gerald's girlfriend, and why is Gerald here with Helga?" Josh asked as Phoebe excused herself to the bathroom.
"It was the only way we could get them to come, and they really wanted to come with us." He watched Phoebe storm past Gerald as he got himself punch. "Though at the moment I wish we would've left them at home." He frowned. "Why'd you two come together?"
Callie shrugged. "Seemed like the thing to do." Her eyes narrowed. "And we're just here as friends."
Josh looked away.
"Okay…"Arnold said slowly.
"Callie! And Josh?" Helga cried as she arrived at their table.
"Don't ask," Josh answered grumpily.
"What's wrong with them?" Helga whispered to Arnold.
Arnold frowned. "Let's just say Josh isn't getting what he wanted."
Helga shrugged. Arnold caught his breath as she intertwined her fingers with his. "They're going to serve us here pretty quick. Where'd Gerald and Pheebs run off to?"
"Hard telling," he whispered, still in great surprise.
Helga glanced at him questioningly, but he was saved from an expected uncomfortable situation by Callie's outburst. "Look what the cat dragged in!"
Helga and Arnold turned their heads to the entrance. Lila had walked in, alone. Helga's fingers slipped from Arnold's. Her face had turned a slight shade of pink. Obviously she was not over the events that had occurred in the past weeks. He sighed, but he could not help but catch the hopeful glance Lila gave him as she walked by. Beside him Helga looked even more upset than before. "You all right?" he asked her.
She laughed weakly and gave him a forced smile. "Sure. Why not?"
"Helga—"
"I'm going to go find Phoebe and Gerald. You know, it's dinner and all." She walked away, chewing her lip nervously.
Arnold slid down in his seat, tapping his fingers anxiously as he watched her walk away.
"You know, now would be a great time to tell her," Callie said as she sipped her water, leaving the rim a greasy pink from her lip-gloss.
"Tell whom what?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the blond until she left the room and ventured into the lobby.
Callie smiled at him like a Cheshire cat. "You should tell Helga you love her."
Both Arnold and Josh spit out their water. "Okay, that's just disgusting," Callie muttered.
"You were clipping your toenails on the way over here, so you've got no room to talk," Josh shot back. "And what are you talking about? That'd be murder-suicide."
Callie scoffed. "What's wrong with the present? It's a romantic evening. Helga's going to be honored so she'll be on cloud nine. Arnold looks as good as he's ever going to. It's perfect."
"Helga just came out of an ugly break-up. She's not ready for something this heavy."
"Guys," Arnold interjected.
Callie threw her hands in the air in disgust. "You're so unromantic. She needs Arnold to come and save her from all her problems, to whisk her away from all her heartache, to just take her in his arms and tell her how much he loves her." Her voice trailed off, and her eyes misted over as she sunk into her own reverie.
"Guys?"
Josh began snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Callie, if you haven't noticed, Arnold's not exactly Humphrey Bogart or Cary Grant or Clark Gable or whatever other old movie star your in love with this week. And this isn't a movie. It's real. Helga's not ready for this."
"Guys!"
Callie grabbed Josh's hand and looked as if she was about to snap if off.
"Ah-hmm," Arnold cleared his throat and nodded toward the man standing behind the two.
Callie and Josh followed his gaze speechlessly.
"And who ordered the grilled salmon?" the maitre d' asked.
Callie's face blushed to a violent shade of red. "That would be me."
Arnold leaned across the table as soon as he was finished serving. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Helga, Phoebe, and Gerald quickly approaching. "How about you let me worry about Helga, huh?"
Callie glared at him and shrugged. "Fine. It's your choice to waste perfect happiness," she muttered.
Arnold swiftly kicked her.
"Ow!"
"Arnold!" Helga scolded. Callie stuck out her tongue at him as the three sat down.
He crossed his arms as Helga sat down beside him. "It's not my fault Callie's a bi—"
"Arnold!"
He smiled at her as he took a bit of his steak. "Sorry, Helga, but you know me, always honest."
Helga laughed in spite of herself. "Oh, Callie, he's right, but we love you anyways." she said. Callie glared at them.
Mrs. Chadwick began speaking as the guests ate. Arnold was having difficulty keeping his food down as Gerald and Phoebe being far too lovey-dovey in public for his taste. He leaned over to Helga who was humming softly, not paying any attention to Chadwick. "So I'm guessing the two made up?" he asked lowly.
"And made out. I caught them in the coatroom," she answered between bites. "I'm trying not to look over at them. I'm afraid I'll throw up."
Arnold laughed. "I was about to say the same thing."
She giggled. "Don't make me laugh. People are staring at us."
"So? And they're probably staring at them, not us. It's revolting, really. I mean, I'm trying to eat here. How can I concentrate on my food and Mrs. Chadwick's wonderful, earth-moving, history-changing speech with my two best friends on the urge of groping in front of everyone?" He looked thoughtful. "I suppose some might call it a beautiful moment between lovers, but I just call it disgusting."
She had to cover her mouth to hide her laugher, but her dark eyes were dancing. "Arnold, seriously, shut up," she hissed at him.
Arnold winked at her. "Helga, you don't understand. Gerald's beating me."
Helga smirked at him. "Hon, Gerald's been beating you in that department for a long time."
He groaned. "I know, but never so openly in public." He leaned towards her. His warm breath in her ear sent shivers down her spine. "Helga, I'm afraid I'm going to have to start groping you under the table just to keep up and save what little dignity I have left." He placed his hand on her thigh. "I'm sorry, but you are going to have to take one for the team."
Helga grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that." To his surprise, she did not let go. "Not in public. I've got a reputation to maintain."
He smiled at her, suddenly much more shy than he had been a minute before. "Be careful, I might hold you to that," he whispered.
"And I might not let you forget." She squeezed his hand gently.
Around them the crowd burst into a loud applause. They managed to break their gaze with each other and look up at the stage. The contestants who were not in the top five were being awarded their scholarships. They paid attention as Mr. Sorres talked about Callie, Sabrina Verducci, and Jacquelyn McKinley, but it was only so they would not be staring at each other. Beside Helga Josh was watching the two with much interest (Callie had gone up to the front to receive her award), at least when he was not staring at Callie. Under the table Helga still had not removed her hand from Arnold's.
"And now one of our pageant coaches Mr. Daniel Samson would like to say a few words about this years runner-up. Mr. Samson."
The crowd applauded as Samson walked up to the podium, staring at Sorres as if he wanted desperately to punch him. "Thank you, Mr. Sorres. I wasn't supposed to talk tonight, but I felt that a few things should be said about this young lady, and since I worked with her the most I felt that I should be the one to do it."
"Oh God," Helga muttered, closing her eyes tightly.
"I knew Miss Pataki would be at least in the top five the minute I saw her, and not only because I knew of her sister, who is a former Miss Hillwood. I knew because she was charming, talented, and breathtaking. She worked the hardest of any of the girls here, wowing the crowd with her lead in All that Jazz, giving life to the show in only a way she could. I have to admit that I was ridiculously hard on her, and I think she still hates me, but I must admit I am very proud at how far she has come along, and she would have been wonderful without me. I'm not taking anything away from the lovely Miss Andrews, but in my eyes there is another this year deserving of the title, and I'm glad to have had the honor to work with her."
"He didn't just say that, did he?" Helga pleaded to Arnold.
He nodded.
"Oh, Sarah's going to kill me!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, please give a much deserved hand to the winner of a $5000 scholarship, the lovely Miss Helga Pataki."
The room exploded with a thundering roar. Arnold squeezed her hand after Helga failed to move. "Helga, go!"
She smiled at him and nervously walked up to Samson. To her amazement, he hugged her. "You shouldn't have said that about me deserving to be Miss Hillwood instead of Sarah," she whispered as he held her.
"Well, it's true and you know it. Besides, I'm hoping to get kicked out of this whole thing."
She laughed. "I'll miss you."
He pulled away. "I doubt it, but thank you all the same."
She accepted her check from Mr. Sorres and stood beside Jacquelyn as Mr. Sorres introduced Sarah. Arnold was watching her the whole time, and Helga felt her stomach do somersaults as her heart did back flips. I love him. I still love him, she thought as she smiled back at him. Tears were coming to her eyes. I love him. It's that simple, yet that complicated. I love him, and that's all I need.
She ran back to her table as soon as the audience applauded for all the girls. Arnold was waiting for her. "Congratulations, Miss Sorta Hillwood."
Her smile was a mile wide. "Thank you." She covered her face. "I can't believe he said that."
"Yes, you can."
She laughed. "Yes, I can."
He grabbed her hand. "C'mon, let's dance."
She made a face. "You want to ballroom dance?" The mini-orchestra began playing a waltz.
He smiled and pulled her out to the floor. "It's not the tango, so I promise you will be okay."
She eyed him carefully as they danced. "You're up to something."
"I have to be up to something to want to dance with my beautiful best friend?"
"Arnold."
He sighed. "Well, don't be mad at me, but—"
"But what?" She stopped dancing. "Arnold, what did you do?"
"Well, I know the guy who leads the band-thingy from the pageant, and it turns out that his son is a big punk rock fan and has a band and they're actually here tonight. Over there." He pointed across the room.
"Spit it out, Football head," Helga demanded.
"So he knows some songs, and I talked him into letting his kid play, you know, since the whole things really for a bunch of high schoolers, not a bunch of stuffy socialites, so he agreed to do me a favor." He grinned at her.
She stood still as the waltz ended and an electric guitar began to fill the air. "Arnold!" she cried before putting her arms around him.
He laughed slightly as he put his arms tightly around her small waist. "I figured what fun is a old-fashioned ball without a little Bowling for Soup?"
She leaned her head against his as the boy began to sing.
Sail away, sail away with me
I don't have a ship
But we could get one easily
Drift away, drift away with me
On the raft we'll make of memories
In an ocean we can call forever more
I want to find
A piece of your mind
I want to see
Your make-believe
I don't want to try so hard
I make it hard for you to breathe
Jump into the ocean, living on a notion
If you're caught up in the motion
Back track and do it again
And if you make it up
I could never get enough
Me and you together
But you gotta tell me where to begin
Break away, break away from me
No forget that, just sit here and look at me
Summer's day
Summer every day
And we watch the sunset come back up
And we know it's never going down again
I want to find
A piece of your mind
I want to see
Your make-believe
I don't want to try so hard
I make it hard for you to breathe
Jump into the ocean, living on a notion
If you're caught up in the motion
Back track and do it again
And if you make it up I could never get enough
Me and you together
But you gotta tell me where to begin
I've been saving up to buy more time with you.
You've been living it up with someone else, and that's okay
Because I know it and you know it too
Jump into the ocean, living on a notion
If you're caught up in the motion
Back track and do it again
And if you make it up I could never get enough
Me and you together
But you gotta tell me where to begin
Helga moaned slightly. "I can't believe you did this. Arnold!" she squealed.
He laughed. "You're welcome."
She hugged him tightly. "Oh, damn."
He pulled away to look at her. "What?"
"Samson wants me to come talk to people."
"So don't go. Pretend you didn't see him." He spun her around. "Simple as that."
"No, he's coming over here, and I have to. He was too nice earlier." She kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be back, okay?"
"Alright." He tapped his foot to the Frank Sinatra song as he looked for one of the girls from the show to dance with. He spotted Kathryn, but a small, shy voice called from behind him. "Arnold?"
He turned around, surprised to see Lila Sawyer standing behind him. She looked almost scared of him. "Lila?"
"May I have this dance?" she asked. Her skin was pale, and he was afraid she was about to pass out.
He reluctantly put his arms around her (with a comfortable distance between the two of them). He was desperately hoping that Helga was not watching him. She would be furious.
"Arnold, I've been meaning to talk to you."
"Oh, really?" He searched the crowd for Helga.
"I, um, I have some things I wanted to tell you." She chewed her lip. "Arnold, I'm in love with you," she blurted out.
Arnold snapped his head back to look down at her. "What?"
She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "I'm in love with you, Arnold. I—I know it's terrible timing and you probably hate me, but I do. I love you." She fought back tears. "I know I've been ever so terrible these past few years, but you've always been there for me, always so ready to see the good in me. And I know I can change, Arnold, I can, I can! I can be the little girl that you liked ever so much when we were younger. I'm still her! I know am!" Tears were now flowing freely down her face. "I know I've made so many terrible mistakes, but I'm ready to be a good person again, and I need you to help me, Arnold, like you have before. I—I, oh Arnold!" She pulled her lips up to his, and Arnold found himself finally kissing Lila Sawyer.
¤ -¤ - ¤
"Oh, thank you. I really was terrified through the whole thing." Helga said to a crowd of forty-something Hillwood socialites. She was quite tired of shooting the bull with Samson and his friends. How much longer is this going to take? I want to get back to Arnold. She looked around for him. He was not at their table, so she guessed he was dancing with one of the girls. She skimmed the mess of people on the dance floor, looking for that one-of-a-kind football head. "There he is," she muttered to herself as she spotted him….
Her blood went cold, and she felt her world crash around her.
Arnold was kissing Lila.
A/N: One more chapter to go.