The next day Arnold and Helga shared the same desk once more, and playfully jostled for elbow room. Helga knew it spelled bad news, she could feel herself falling ever deeper, but she couldn't stop herself. When they were like this, as friends, she wanted him even more. When she was admiring him from afar she could turn away and he would be gone, but when they were together like this, she had to give him her full attention and in return he gave her his. After all, wasn't that all she had ever really wanted? A little of his attention? And now she had it when she was trying to let him go. It wasn't fair. She folded her arms defiantly and looked towards Phoebe, away from Arnold. She didn't want Arnold to see the tears in her eyes, and only Phoebe would understand them.
Mr. Simmons brushed into the room and set them to work at once on their stories. Helga turned back and faced Arnold, hoping the tears in her eyes had cleared up. They must have done, because Arnold's expression didn't change. "So, do you have any ideas Helga?"
"Well, I did have one last night that I thought was pretty good," she said nervously, hoping that Arnold would go along with it. Simmons had said that they had to agree on every aspect, and Arnold was just headstrong enough to contest her.
"Great, what is it?" said Arnold, who had spent last night racking his brains for thoughts but kept drifting away into fantasies of him and Lila. He liked Helga's idea of a sad story though, so he tried to get them out of his mind. He was more than relieved that Helga had something, and knowing Helga, it was bound to be good.
"Well, I haven't really padded it out yet but basically it's about this girl who's in love with this boy, but he doens't notice her so in the end she just gives up on him." In love? Had she actually used that phrase? She shook her head slightly to clear it.
"Wow, that sounds really good. You know, simple but really sad at the same time. I like it Helga," Arnold replied, and putting their heads together they began work on chapter one.
Amanda looked at Henry from the back of the auditorium. He made her knees tremble, even when he wasn't looking at her. So long she had carried this desire for him, wanted him to turn around and say he loved her too, but he wouldn't. Amanda knew that. He was too taken in by the pretty young things that giggled his way to ever notice plain old Amanda in the background, a girl consumed by her own temper and her wishes to be left alone. The Principal rambled on about field trips and lunch breaks, and Amanda continued to watch, transfixed by the boy with cornflower hair...
"Wow, he sort of has hair like mine huh?" Arnold commented. Helga stumbled over her papers. She had just been writing, absorbed by her story, not noticing that her lead man was turning into Arnold.
"Er, yeah, well, I guess I am sort of basing him on you, you know, in appearence. Just cause you're here and all, saves me some thinking." She stuttered over her excuses, her eyes darting every which way like they always did when she was caught short.
"Maybe we could base Amanda on you," Arnold suggested offhandedly.
"What?" Helga gasped. "But I don't-"
"Oh yeah, I know," Arnold replied calmly, "I meant, just, you know, in appearance."
"You saying I'm plain?" Helga scowled, but in a joking manner.
"Oh no, not at all," said Arnold absently, staring back at the first paragraph of the story. "I think you're actually quite pretty." Helga bit her lip and put her head down to carry on writing.
Mr. Simmons informed the class that it would be good for them to get together some time in the week, as he hoped to have their stories finished by Friday. The class was as one in their outrage.
"But you said we had two weeks!" screamed Rhonda. "I haven't even finished developing Courtney's character fully yet!"
"We're not even in the middle so far!" Gerald cried, as Phoebe's brain automaticaly set itself on overdrive. She would have it finished in time, come Hell or high water. Arnold and Helga remained silent. Their story had actually been coming along in leaps and bounds, Helga found it so easy to write and Arnold's suggestions had suprisingly fit in with Helga's plot. It was even his idea to introduce the ever so perfect Terri, object of Henry's affections. Helga was worried that Arnold might be clocking on to her, but he was just as oblivious as ever.
"You want to come over to the boarding house tonight, finish this chapter?" Arnold asked sweetly.
"Sure thing football head," Helga replied, astonished that her heart wasn't leaping up her throat and out of her mouth. How many times had she lay awake at night, just waiting for the day when Arnold would invite her over to his house? And now that he had, it didn't seem like such a big deal after all. Maybe she was finally starting to move on.
Henry held out his hand, offering to help Amanda up. Begrudgingly she took it, while inwardly shivering at his glorious touch. His hand felt like it belonged in hers, and for a moment she was lost again in her world of whirlwind fantasies. He muttered his apologies to her for knocking her down, and continued on his way. She watched him from behind the corner until she could not see him anymore, and she sighed. Why was she always so harsh to him, so cruel with her tongue? He was the one she wanted above all others, and yet she would never let him know. By now she felt it had gotten to the point where she had been so mean he would never see her like that. She didn't blame him, and she dragged herself home so she could be alone...
Helga couldn't help but notice how similar the story was getting to her own now, and she hesitated in showing him the fresh paragraph. She watched him nervously as his eyes scanned the page, twisting her pencil between her hands. Please don't let him see, she thought, Please...
"Wow Helga, this is so good," Arnold said breathlessly. "It's really touching you know, I feel so bad for Amanda." Helga smiled. "Helga, could I er, could I write the next paragraph?" Helga was taken aback. When they had started the project Arnold had insisted that she pen every word, she was so much more elegent with them than he was. But then, she had agreed to co-operate with him. She handed over the now brutally chewed pencil.
"Sure thing Arnoldo, can I get a glass of milk from your kitchen while you do?" she said, suprised by her niceness and how well she had been treating him lately.
"Course," said Arnold, and he began scribbling furiously on the page.
Helga closed the fridge door and drained her glass of milk in one big gulp. She set her glass down and turned to go back upstairs to Arnold's room. "How's the story coming Helga?" came a voice. Helga spun around. Arnold's grandpa was leaning against the door frame.
"Pretty well thanks, Arnold's just writing another chapter. We should be done in an hour or so," she said politely.
"Ah that's good, that's good. I always said the Short Man could be a little more creative, and it's so nice to see you two finally getting along," Phil stopped, aware that he may have just put his foot in it.
"Uh yeah, I guess I should get back up to him before he introduces UFOs or something crazy," Helga gushed, and ran back upstairs to Arnold's room. Phil sat down at the kitchen table and sighed.
"And there I hoped Arnold would stop being so blind," he said, taking a banana from the fruit bowl.
"What's that Philip?" said Arnold's grandma as she entered the room.
"I was just saying it looks like Arnold's little friend with the one eyebrow has given up Pookie," he sighed.
"Aw, that's a shame," she replied, taking a ham from the fridge and charging into the hall with it tucked under her arm, before declaring herself the winner of the Superbowl.
Arnold sat on his bed, hugging his knees and chewing his lip, wondering how his writing was holding up against the flowing beauty of Helga's. She was reading the paper carefully, holding it close to her nose with no expression on her face. This betrayed her however, she was spellbound.
Henry looked at Amanda. She was so out there, so harsh, but he knew that wasn't who she really was. He had known her to be sweet, to be kind and conscientious, she was a good person, she was just a little rough around the edges. Beyond that she was a genuinely nice person, Henry just wished she would show it more. These thoughts were quickly robbed from him however, when Terri walked by. There was a girl he could really fall for, maybe already had. She was good through and through, she was so perfect for him. She was just so perfect, period...
"It's really good Arnold, I'm really impressed," she said, handing the paper back to him.
"You really think so?" he said.
"Oh yeah, I especially liked the "rough around the edges" the part, it's cool."
"You said that to me once, about yourself," Arnold said, a little to himself.
"I did?" asked Helga, racking her brains trying to remember.
"Oh, not in real life. In this dream I had." Arnold had lapsed into a dreamy state, he was feeling pretty tired. Helga yawned, she was feeling sleepy too. She got to her feet.
"I'm gonna head home Arnold, I'll see you tomorrow," she said, but Arnold was already asleep. She took the paper from his hand and covered him with a blanket. "Good night, Arnold," she whispered, and she slipped out of his room and into the cold night air.
Helga found that despite her wearyness she had trouble getting to sleep that night. Her obsession with Arnold was gone, she knew that. No longer did she want to dance around her room, singing his name at the top of her lungs. No longer did she want to write reams and reams of poetry devoted to him, long into the night. No longer did she want to stand up in front of him and profess her love for him in a childish, puppylove kind of way. No, now she just wanted this assignment to last forever.