I, the author, make no claim as to ownership of "Hey Arnold" or any of its characters. For a full disclaimer, see Chapter 1.


VI
PARANOiA


"Short man, you've got a visitor!"

"On my way, Grampa!" cried Arnold as he made his way down the stairs. It had to be Gerald, he thought. After he told them who his prom date was, he and Feebs had given fake smiles, faker excuses, and made exits as smooth as sandpaper. He knew that the two of them weren't going to smile and say nothing.

"What's happenin', my man?" said Gerald as he extended his fist, which was quickly met by Arnold's as they exchanged their trademark handshake. "Hey," he started again as he pulled his hand away, a serious look coming across his face, "can I talk to ya' for a minute?"

Arnold sighed. "You say that like I have a choice," He turned towards the hall and the two started upstairs. "Gerald, I think I already know the answer, but where's Feebs?"

"HELGA!" Bob shouted from the doorway. "You've got a visitor!"

"Who is it?" asked Helga as she made her way towards the front hallway. The question was more out of habit than anything else - she knew exactly who it was. She and Gerald had given them the "hey, that's nice" treatment at GamePalace; fake smile, faker excuse, smooth-as-sanpaper exit. The whole nine yards. She knew the two of them wouldn't sit by with nothing to say about it.

"Idunno," uttered her father with Feebs standing in front of him. "Some Chinese girl."

"AHEM!" said Phoebe, obviously annoyed.

"I'm sorry," said Bob, realizing his error. He turned back to his daughter to rectify the situation. "Helga, some Chinese woman is here to see you."

"Thanks for the heads up," said Helga as she yanked Phoebe into the hallway and towards the stairs. It was all she could do to keep Phoebe from exploding at her father. Sure enough, as Bob slumped back to his living room recliner, Phoebe began cursing him under her breath. It didn't take long before her English curses became Japanese, which was never a good sign for whoever was on the receiving end of them.

"Sonna baka no nan de yannen?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Feebs," Helga said as she shut her bedroom door behind the two of them. "Turn off the subtitles. I need the English dub."

Phoebe took a couple of deep breaths before speaking again. "Sorry, Helga. It's just that he gets me so irritated with that Chinese stuff. It just makes me wanna... shimekoroshitai ze!"

"Subtitles, Feebs."

One more cleansing breath, and Phoebe's focus returned. "Sorry. Your father's not important right now. What's important is that we need to talk about you and..."

"Ice cream?"

"No thanks, Arnold. Just had some."

"Yahoo?"

"Arnold, can we just..."

"Water? You look like you need some..."

"I do not need any water right now!"

"Fine. Suit yourself. I'll be right back." With that, Arnold got off of his bed and began to head towards the door. His progress was stopped by a sudden jerk of his arm.

"Not so fast, my man. Have a seat." Gerald tugged on his friend's arm and sent him back towards the bed. He then stood up in front of him, preventing another escape. "This is serious."

"You sure you don't need some water? You sound a little..."

"Arnold!"

Arnold sighed, realizing he was defeated. "Okay, okay. You've got my attention. Go ahead and tell me what a big mistake I'm making with Helgs."

"I'm not saying that you're making a big mistake here. All I'm saying is that..."

"You're making a big mistake here."

Helga's eyed widened in shock, taken back by Phoebe's sharp words. Ever since she started going out with Gerald, she started to mature and grow in several noticable ways, including growing a backbone. Even still, she always seemed to sugarcoat her words amongst her friends. For her to say something so bold, Helga knew this had to be serious.

"I'm sorry, Helgs," said Phoebe as she put a hand on Helga's shoulder, "but that's just how I see this."

"Feebs, this is not a big mistake." Helga let out a small sigh. She stood up from the bed and turned towards her friend, ready to argue her case. "For one, this isn't marriage or anything like that. This is, after all is said and done, a school dance. Granted, it's the biggest school dance of my life, but it's a dance nonetheless."

"Point taken."

"And two," Helga continued, "this isn't some loser or random guy from Chemistry that I've barely talked to. This is Arnold we're talking about."

"And therein lies the problem," chimed Phoebe.

"Feebs..." Helga leaned down towards the bed and put her arms on the outside of Phoebe's knees, propping herself up so that she could look straight into her eyes. "I know that I have a history with Arnold, but as hard as it is to believe... this is no big deal."

"No big deal!"

"That's right, Gerald," said Arnold, still seated on the bed. "This is no big deal. It's just two friends going to prom. Nothing more."

Gerald's eyes widened in shock. "I hope you don't honestly believe that."

"As a matter of fact, I do," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gerald sighed heavily. "See, stuff like this is why we make fun of you guys on ComicView."

"Comic View?"

"Forget that part," Gerald continued as he began pacing in front of Arnold's bed, "but let's clear up something right now. Are you going as a couple or as friends?"

Arnold started to answer, but quickly stopped himself. He tried again, but still, no words could come out of his mouth. After a moment's thought, he made one more attempt. This time, he was slightly more successful.

"I... Well, you see..."

"Mmm-hmmm," replied Gerald in a somber tone. "And what does Helgs think this is?" He paused for an answer, but Arnold made no attempt at a reply. "That's what I thought," he concluded with a knowing nod. "Although, I should've expected you not to know. Seeing as how she probably doesn't either."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like; she's confused."

Arnold's annoyance started to surface. He rose up from the bed, cocked his head slightly to the side, and placed his hands on his hips before he began to speak. "And you know this how?"

"Easy, brotha'" said Gerald. As he did, he put his hand up in front of him as though he was showing Arnold he didn't have a weapon. "All I'm sayin' is that this isn't just any girl you're going out with. Let's not forget that she spent half her life being completely obsessed with you. And I doubt that she's completely forgotten 'bout it, either."

"Look, Helgs spent half her life obsessed with me," Arnold allowed, "but the keyword here is spent. Past tense. She's not the same girl she was 7 or 8 years ago. She's moved on with her life."

"I don't know how minds work, but you can't just forget about..."

"I know, I know, but it's the past. I can tell you this much; Helga G. Pataki has no romantic feelings for me."

"Now look me in the eyes and say it."

"C'mon, Feebs, this is ridiculous!" cried Helga as she shot up from the bed. She had spent the last fifteen minutes of her life getting grilled, questioned, grilled, preached to, and grilled. Now she had to do this? That was too much.

"Helga, if you do it, I won't bug you about any of this ever again."

The offer made Helga raise an eyebrow at her interrogator. "What about Gerald?"

"Him too."

Phoebe answered quickly. Too quickly, thought Helga. There had to be some other catch that she was... A-HA!

"Arnold gets amnesty."

Phoebe snapped her fingers in disappointment, knowing she had seen her victory snatched away by the jaws of defeat. "Fine. But you have to look me in the eyes the entire time." She extended her hand out, and it was quickly met with Helga's.

"Deal!" she exclaimed as she sat back down on the bed, gameplan already set. Helga was a capable liar, but she couldn't flat-out deceive her best friend.

But omitting part of the truth? That's a whole other story.

Helga took a deep, clensing breath, stared Phoebe straight in the eyes, and began to speak quite calmly. "I do not have any romantic feelings for Arnold."

It was too easy, Phoebe thought. She knew that there had to be some sort of catch that she was... A-HA!

"Say it again."

Helga slapped her forehead and brought her hand down her face. "Feebs, I don't know how many times I have to..."

"...and say the last name."

Helga was frozen in her tracks... momentarily. Desperate to not show any chinks in the armor, she quickly muttered something or other out of annoyance before turning back to her friend. Now or never, she thought. What's one more little white lie between friends?

"I... do not... have any... romantic... feelings... for Arnold..."

One mor word and she was scott free. All she had to do was stare Feebs dead in the eye and say one word... One simple word... right in the eye... It'd be a piece of cake... right?

"...Arnold..."

Well, it would be if she stopped looking at her like that... With those eyes... Suddenly she felt herself starting to speak. She tried to stop herself, but it was already out of her mouth.

"...Schwartzenegger," she muttered.

"Aw, Helga..." Phoebe sighed. "This is why I think this is a bad idea."

"Look," said Arnold, trying to explain himself. "I know this sounds like a bad idea, and I know you think it's a bad idea..."

Gerald immediately held a hand up in Arnold's face. "No, I don't think it's a bad idea. I know it's a bad idea. I mean, you two are almost as close as you and me."

Arnold pushed his friend's hand away. "And?"

"And, you don't think it'd be a little weird if, oh, say you and I went to prom together?"

Arnold froze in mid-movement, a smile creeping onto his face. "A little weird wouldn't begin to..."

"Arnold, I'm serious." Gerald was obviously annoyed, but it was mostly toward himself for leaving himself open to such an easy joke at a time like this. "Since you want to go with a very good friend, I want you to think about what would happen if your prom date was your best friend."

The smirk from Arnold's face was still present. "You're not making this any easier for..."

"This is all hypothetical, man! Trust me; even if I was gay, I could do a helluva lot better than you!"

Arnold raised an eyebrow. "Something tells me I should've been insulted by that."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just listen, okay? Now imagine if we went to prom together." Arnold snickered. "Hypothetically, man!"

"I'm sorry," he said between chuckles. "Okay, you and me at prom."

"Imagine if we hypothetically go to dinner." He paused, seeing if Arnold would crack up again. Seeing that he didn't, Gerald continued. "So you and me go to dinner, and we talk. Like friends do... like we do. Only it's going a little better."

"Hypothetically."

"Yes, hypothetically," Gerald allowed. "So what would you think? Would you think I want you to make a move, or that I'm just acting like that because I think you want to make a move?"

"I think I see what you're..."

"So now we're at prom, right?" Gerald was getting more and more involved in the situation by the second. "And this slow song comes on."

"This is still hypothetically, right?" Arnold asked.

"Of course. So we dance. Are you thinking that I'm interested in you, or just playing along?"

Arnold took a deep breath and began to nod. "I understand what..."

"So after all this, we go somewhere where we're alone. And one thing starts leading to another." He paused.

"Hypothetically!" they both said in unison, a little nervously.

"So now what do you do?"

"Well," Arnold began, "I'd... probably... you know... lean in and... kiss you."

"And I'd say, 'What the hell are you doing? I don't like you like that! Don't talk to me ever again!' And I would keep my word, cause you screwed up a great friendship. What would you say to that? Huh?"

Arnold didn't respond at first. He looked at Gerald with a raised eyebrow before breaking the silence.

"Do you think this is a little awkward?"

"Arnold, my man, we passed awkward a loooooong time ago." He broke a smile, which quickly broke into laughter. He was joined by Arnold, who just had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Gerald began to gather himself up before adressing his friend again. "Look, I'll leave you alone about this for a while, but lemme just say one thing. You and Helgs... there's something special there. I don't know if it's just a friendship..."

"...or if there's the possibilty of something more," Phoebe continued, staring her friend right in the eye. "I'm just glad to see the two of you get along so well..."

"...especially after everything that's happened with you two. I just don't wanna see that get messed up over something like this. All I'm saying..."

"...is just please, please, please..."

"...don't fuck it up."


Before you jump down my throat, the Motion Picture Academy of America's old rating guidelines said that you could use a major curse once in a PG-13 story, assuming that all of the other elements of the story fell well within PG-13 guidelines. I know they recently changed that rule, but I'm sticking with the "one-biggie" guideline. So there ya go.

As for the actual reason you're jumping down my throat (two weeks since my last update): Yikes. What can I say? I've had two days off in the past two weeks, so that didn't help. Plus, with the size and content of this chapter, it was a female dog and a half to write. But I haven't ignored the story, and I don't plan on doing so for a while.

I just wanna say thank you to everyone who's reading and enjoying this story. Your reviews really do make my day (and make me feel all warm and squishy inside... like some warm, squishy, shquishy warmth). It's such a strange feeling to see reviews from some of the people who have written awesome stories that I've gone back and read again and again. I keep thinking, "why do they like my story? It sucks compared to what they've done!" But it really does keep me going. Thank you.

For the record, Phoebe says "How can he be so stupid?" and "I want to strangle him!" My friend (a Japanese major) translated the lines for me, so I owe him a debt of gratitude. And 5.

Oh, and Chudney? There's no shame in depreciating against the Euro. The Euro's a damn-strong currency that just don't quit. I heard it took down the Yen and Franc at the same time... with its bear hands. Scary stuff.