Disclaimer – I don't own Hey Arnold!

A Sure Thing

Chapter 12 - Reality Bites

Thursday, April 30

Stella continued humming to herself as she continued her cleaning into the leaving room. "You can try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need," she murmured off-key as she threw a pile of magazines onto the couch so she could dust the table behind it. A slight grunt was heard from behind a pile of pillows. Stella leaned forward and pulled the middle pillow away, revealing a very pale and tired looking Arnold. "Honey, what are you doing?"

Arnold blinked and said nothing. He continued to look straight up at the ceiling with a blank stare.

"Arnold? Arnold? Ugh, don't tell me you've decided to become catatonic." She sighed and pulled the flowers out of the vase that had been sitting beside the magazines. In a swift motion, she removed the rest of the pillows from her son's face, poured the water onto his face, and resumed dusting.

"Mom! What are you doing?" he shrieked, sitting up to glare at her.

Stella put the flowers back in the empty vase and put it and the magazines back on the end table. "I think I'm cleaning, doing something productive, which is more than you've been doing over the past two days. Arnold, I know that the teenage years are depressing by nature, but don't you think you could just as easily zone out washing dishes instead of covering your face with pillows and acting like a bump on a log?" She stopped and stared at him. "I'm not going to have to go out and buy you a whole new wardrobe that's all black, do I? Because we just spent a fortune fixing the washer and dryer."

"No, Mom," Arnold said dryly. "I'm just not feeling like myself."

Stella sat down beside her son. "Still thinking about yesterday?"

He scowled. "I wasn't. Am now, though."

She hugged him. "Oh, sweetie, I don't think you're the first pitcher in high school baseball history to give up five runs without getting an out." She smiled. "You'll be fine next time. It was just a bad start."

He groaned. "Don't remind me." That complete embarrassment was one of the worst evenings of his life, and it had not gotten any easier the day after. The newspaper was covered with news of his breakdown, which also seemed to travel faster as school than rumors of the newest case of pregnancy. His coach said it was bound to happen sometime, since he had never had start that bad, but Arnold and his teammates knew better. His head was not in the game, and every single boy was pissed at him for not being able to keep his personal problems, which they all thought was his fault anyways (and he agreed with them), off the diamond.

Stella eyed her son. "Is something else wrong, Arnold?"

He chewed his lip and remained silent for a moment. "Yeah, but I don't really want to talk about it."

She raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Stella stood up. "Well, in that case, stop moping and clean your room. It is disgusting up there, and what was that smell? Have you been eating up there again?"

He slowly stood up. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll clean it up." He slowly slunk out of the room, sulking.

"Arnold?"

He turned on the stairs to face his mother. "Yes?"

She smiled. "Whatever's bothering you, you have a good head on your shoulders. Remember that. I'm sure you will be able to find how to fix your problems. And if you don't, your father and I are right here."

Arnold nodded and continued up to his room, trying desperately to remember what would have caused his room to reek. Mom, somehow I don't think you and Dad would be too proud of me if you knew what I've done.

"I can't believe you hit him," Mickey said as she blew a smoke ring.

"I didn't hit him, I just pinned him up against the lockers," Helga said calmly as she slipped her latte.

Mickey continued with her chain-smoking and blew another ring. "At any rate, he totally would have deserved to have gotten hit."

Helga shrugged. "I was in school. Shoving is permissible, hitting's not."

"Bastard." Mickey muttered as she took a look at her friend. "Helga, are you honestly okay with this?"

Helga glared at her. "Okay? Would you be okay with this? He says that he loves me, but then he pulls that shit." She sighed. "I didn't know. Maybe he's right. Maybe I had this coming from the start. After all, I was the one who wasn't honest about my intentions from the beginning."

Mickey propped her feet on the empty chair beside her. "True, but you had good reasoning. He's known you for how long and he's just now fallen in love with you? Please, you were doing him a favor."

"I don't know anything anymore. I really think this might be the last straw. I mean, he loves me, at least he says he does, and that's still not enough."

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Why isn't that enough? I thought that was what you wanted? I mean, if he loves you he obviously wants a relationship with you."

Helga sighed and fidgeted with her hair. She twisted her cup in her hands. "I—it's hard to explain. I—he—it doesn't feel like it should, I suppose."

Mickey put out her cigarette and lit another. "Helga, you've been lusting after the guy—"

"Don't use that word. You make it sound dirty and obsessive."

"Helga, love is obsessive. Haven't you learned anything from Calvin Klein?"

Helga laughed in spite of herself.

"Anyways, you've romanticized this thing to no end, so of course whatever he'd do would fall short of perfection. Besides, it's Arnold, the densest boy in the world. You knew he'd have to mess this up somehow."

"Well," Helga muttered, looking out into the distance.

"So…" Mickey picked her copy of Alternative Press. "I guess this means you're not going to the dance?"

"No, I'm going." Helga shoved a large piece of muffin in her mouth.

Mickey inhaled the smoke and stated choking. "What? You've got to be kidding me, Helga!"

"I told you, Miriam and Bob are making me go. Besides, I'm going with Cory. We'll just sit there and make fun of people in bad dresses who can't dance."

"Helga, I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, Cory still cares about you. A lot. You can't lead him on like that."

Helga rolled her eyes. "I'm not leading him on. And besides, maybe its time I started looking at him differently. Arnold's obviously not going to come around, so why should I wait? It's time to move on." She leaned back in her chair and propped her feet on the table.

Mickey took a long drag of her cigarette. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Helga downed the rest of her drink. In all honesty, she had no idea what she was doing, but she could not see any other options.

Friday, May 1

"Are you coming to lunch?" Gerald demanded in an exhausted voice.

"No," Arnold replied, not moving his eyes from the spot they had been resting on for nearly five minutes.

Gerald looked him up and down with mild disgust. "Then do something, because you are completely worthless at this point. At least stop drooling, man!"

Arnold finally looked at him as he wiped his mouth. His sleeve was dry. "Man! Get out of here!"

Gerald laughed loudly, drawing attention from a group of people to their left. "Who's my biatch?" he cried.

"I'm your biatch," Arnold muttered as one of the female teachers chased after Gerald for shouting a curse word in the middle of the hallway.

Arnold watched Helga from his locker. She had been digging around in it for a while now, so he had not seen her face or heard her talk to anyone. She at least seemed to be in a good mood. He gathered up what little nerve he had left, and walked over to her locker. The next thing he knew, Helga had slammed her locker and was now facing him, her nose barely inches from his. "Tell me, Hair Boy, is there something on my ass?"

Arnold blinked. What the hell is she talking about? "N-no, I don't think so."

"Really? There's nothing there that would have captured your attention for, oh, lets say five minutes. Because I know it doesn't look that good today."

"I—uh—well—see—""

"Uh, er, well, uh," she mocked. "I'll let you get your panties untwisted before you can talk to me." She spun on her heel, and started towards the cafeteria. He followed. "You know, my family has a very good lawyer and he can get one hell of a restraining order placed on that wide forehead of yours."

Arnold jogged in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. "You and I have to talk. Now."

Helga watched him with her arms folded across her chest. "Wow, look who finally grew a pair," she muttered.

"Don't be a bitch, Helga."

"Don't be a dick, Football Head," she retorted without missing a beat.

He sighed, and held his hands out in desperation. "Can we please take this somewhere private?"

She glared at him for several moments, her nostrils flaring with anger. "Fine," she grunted, and led him to an empty classroom. Arnold shut the door behind him as he entered the room. "So talk," she snapped.

"Look, Helga, both of us are at fault. You used me, and I kissed another girl."

"I didn't use you, Arnold." She smirked. "I used baseball, and last time I checked that wasn't a crime!" she finished angrily.

Arnold took several steps towards her, his anger and frustration leading him. "Don't joke about this!"

"That's what I do, Arnold! Jesus Christ, how long have you known me? That's how I deal with things. I joke about them or make some sarcastic remark. So just let me be." She sat down in a chair and pouted, her long hair shielding his view of her face.

Arnold stood silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "You know, she kissed me. I didn't kiss her."

"Yeah, you looked like you were putting up one hell of a fight," Helga muttered.

"Well, I was. And me asking her to prom was just her assuming that and coming in at the wrong part of a conversation. I was talking about you."

As her head snapped up her hair flew through the air, landing wildly on her shoulders, giving her the appearance that she was even more upset than she really was. "So why didn't you come after me?" she cried.

He stared at her. "What?" Maybe she is that upset, he thought as he looked at her.

Helga was staring up at him, clearly fighting to contain the tears that sparkled in her dark eyes. Her cheeks were splashed with pink and red, and her lips were oddly white. "I watched you two," she whispered, her face screwed up as she tried to find her words. "I saw her hugging you, and I heard her answer. And you saw me, humiliated, heartbroken, and you just stared. I left, and you just stood with her."

Arnold watched her look up at him in desperation as he tried to replay the scene in his head. Like a broken video, he could see Helga leave as he stood immobile in Lila's arms. "I didn't know what to do. I barely realized what had happened," he whispered.

She buried her head in her hands. "God, you've got an excuse for everything, don't you? Everything's my fault, and everything that happened that could be your fault was just bad timing or misunderstandings!"

Arnold grabbed her hands. "Helga—"

"Don't touch me!" she screamed.

He released her, but he could feel heart pounding in his chest from anger and nerves. "Look, I'm just as sorry things happened the way that they did as you are. I liked where we were going."

"So did I!" She paused, as if afraid of what she was about to say. "And you're not sorry," she said with conviction.

"Excuse me?" Arnold said through clinched teeth.

She stood up to meet his eyes. "You're not sorry for what you did; you're just sorry that things happened."

Arnold felt his blood boil. "That's because I didn't do anything, Helga!"

"Stop lying!" she cried, breathing heavily. "It's your cowardice that got you—got us—into this situation."

"And you would still be lying about how we got together!"

"What? Oh, don't even give me that!" She turned away from him.

"You – you tricked me!" He pointed at her.

She swatted his hand away. "You found out that there was more to me then meets the eye. Oh, yeah, that's a horrible beginning, Arnold. And I didn't trick you into anything. You fell in love with me or whatever you felt for me all on your own."

"You used her to get to me!" He ran his hands through his hair. "Why are we doing this? Why can't you just put this behind you and move on?" He grabbed her shoulders. "I still want to be with you. I still want you, Helga! Why isn't that enough?"

"Because I can't trust you!" she shouted, her voice shaking. "If this is what you do on accident, what will you do if one day you change your mind about her? Or you see someone else who you want?"

"I won't!" He searched her eyes for any signs of hope.

"You already did!" She wiped the tears from her face.

He leaned forward to wipe her face, and she quickly pushed his hand away. "I told you not to touch me."

Arnold stared at her. He had never seen her so upset, so openly hurt. "Why won't you let yourself be happy?" he whispered.

Helga stopped sobbing. "What are you talking about?" she asked in a low voice.

Arnold bit his lip, wondering if she could be any angrier at him. "I think you want to feel pain," he started slowly. "I think you need it. I mean, look at your relationship with your family. I think it's something you want to have. You won't let yourself be happy."

Helga stared at him for a moment, her face frozen in shock. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "How dare you say that to me. You've heard the way they talk to me and how they treat me. Fuck you, Arnold." She struggled to find her words. "Damn it, I'd love to have what you have with your parents, but it won't ever happen for me. And you think I sabotage my relationship with my family? Because I need to have pain and be sad and depressed? How fucking messed up do you think I am?"

Arnold watched her. Her eyes were filled with hate. He knew he had gone too far. "I didn't mean that, Helga," he said as he moved away from her, stopping when he hit the wall.

She followed him. "Yes you did. Yes, you did! You wouldn't say that if you didn't mean it, Arnold. You're not like that."

Arnold slid slowly down the wall to the floor, feeling disgusting. Helga sat across from him, on top of a desk. She glared at him. "You know, I was doing you a favor."

He stared at her. Hatred was oozing from every word, and her eyes were dead. And apparently she still had a trump card up her sleeve. "What are you talking about?"

She scooted toward the end of the desktop and dropped her voice. "Your little Lila doesn't really exist. That's an act. I saved you not only from getting the embarrassment of a lifetime but also from getting one your pathetic little heart broken." Helga smiled a horrible, twisted smile that failed to reach her cold, lifeless eyes. "Lila is nothing but a cold hearted little whore."

Arnold stared at her. She's bluffing. Lila's not who I thought I was, and is a little messed up, I'll agree, but not that. "Stop lying, Helga. She's not like that. She's shallow, yes, but she's not a – a whore." He struggled to finish his sentence.

Helga looked at him with pure disgust. "After all this you still take her side? Arnold, she shoved her tongue down your throat on your first date. Does that sound like your vision of Lila? Your virginal, prudish, holiest of all Lila, being so sexually forward?"

He folded his arms across his chest. "First base isn't that sexual, Helga."

Helga rolled her eyes. "It is for the virginal prude you thought she was, and you're a bit of a prude, too, so she had to take it slow." She shook her head. "And it's more than that, anyways. Lila's heartless."

Arnold could feel his heart pounding in his chest as her words hit him like daggers, accusing him of being stupider and blinder than he was. "Being a—a slut," he said slowly, "doesn't mean you're heartless, Helga."

Her eyes narrowed to thin slits. "Lila's the reason why her father's married to the evil Ellen, rather unhappily, too," she said slowly in order to let the words sink in.

"How can Lila be the reason her father married Ellen?" he demanded.

Helga smirked. "Her dad was in love with this other woman, some complete do-gooder social worker or something, and he thought that Lila hated her. Lila was actually rather indifferent about the whole thing, but she let her father think that. Being the honorable and foolish man that he is, he'd never marry a woman whom his daughter didn't think highly of. So when he met Ellen at one of my father's gatherings, after he'd gotten his promotion, he realized how smitten Lila was with Ellen, basically because Ellen was rich, beautiful, and apparently sweet, and he started dating her and ended up marrying her because he thought his daughter needed a mother at this time in her life."

Arnold turned away. "I don't believe that. Why would he marry someone just because Lila didn't have a mom?"

"He genuinely liked her, at first. And she seemed so in love with him before they were married, so he fooled himself into thinking that he loved her too." She shrugged. "Stupid people do stupid things, Arnold, such as chasing after girls who don't exist and falling in love with their enemies."

"You weren't my enemy, Helga. You were just…misunderstood," he said without thinking. That can't be true. It just can't!

She snorted. "So you suddenly understand me, now?" She stood up. "I can't take this anymore, I'm leaving." She started towards the door.

"You can't hate me forever, Helga!" he cried as he stood up.

She laughed, and a cold, hard sound echoed in the empty room. She turned to him, tears sprinkling like diamonds in her eyes. "Arnold, I've spent the last fifteen years in love with you. I think I hold one emotion for a long time." She quickly walked out door and slammed it behind her.

WHAT? Love? She's loved me for fifteen years? Arnold felt himself hyperventilating. No, that can't be. I would have realized that. I hope I'd've realized that. He ran out the door. "Helga?" The halls were empty. Damn. He stared at the desk on which Helga had sat only moments before. How did it get this far? He noticed she had left that book of poetry she always seemed to be carrying around. He grabbed it and looked at the clock, and decided he had just enough time to get some answers. He only hoped the messenger would not kill him on sight.

A half-hour later, Mickey was doing exactly what he expected exactly where he expected. She was reading the New Yorker and chain smoking beside magazine stand about two blocks from her school. She looked up to find an out-of-breath Arnold running towards her like a madman. "Arnold? What the hell are you doing here? Don't you have school?"

"Shouldn't you be in school, too?" he asked between breaths.

She went back to her magazine. "I'd be in chem. I never go to chem." She looked up, frowning. "I actually don't remember the last time I went to that class."

He stood with his hands on his knees, still trying to breathe normally. "How long has Helga been in love with me?"

Mickey looked surprised and slightly anxious. "What are you talking about?" She raised an eyebrow. "And I thought baseball players were supposed to be in shape."

Arnold glared at her. "She told me herself. I just want to make sure she wasn't lying to me."

She returned the dark look. "I shouldn't even be talking to you about this. Helga'd kill me if I was meddling in her business, and besides, I hate you."

"And I'm not exactly that fond of you either."

"Good. Glad we got that out in the open."

Arnold sighed. "Mickey, I have to know."

"Why? What will happen if you don't know? Will you burst into flames? Please, tell me you'll burst into flames." She clapped her hands together and smiled. "I'll keep my fingers crossed."

"I have to know if this is worth fighting for."

Mickey's face softened. "I think you know that. Whatever I tell you shouldn't make a difference. If she's worth it, she's worth it. And trust me, that girl's worth it." She started to leave, but stopped. "You really want to know?"

"Yes!" he pleaded.

She sighed. "She says she's been in love with you since she first saw you."

"But we were toddlers!"

Mickey shrugged and threw her cigarette on the ground, putting it out with her shoe. "Helga's always been a little mature for her age." She bit her lip. "Arnold, she's had a bit of an ugly childhood. You know that, I'm sure. But, you were, for as long as I've known her, like, the one bright spot in her life. You're what got her through everything. She, essentially, lives to love you." She laughed softly at the bewildered look he was sure was on his face. "Look, I know that's a pretty f-ing heavy thing to know, but you need to."

Arnold soaked in her words. "But she says she hates me."

Mickey shrugged. "To Helga, love is hate. She hates her family, but she really loves them. She hates you, always has."

"Huh?"

"She used to hate you because you didn't love her and that hurt her. I guess now she hates you because you do love her and she can't handle how much that hurts." Mickey paused. "You do love her, don't you? Because if you are just dicking around with her—"

"I love her, okay? I love her because of how messed-up and hurt she is, yet deep down she's still a good person. Because I'm just like that. I see myself in her, and I want to help her." He caught his breath, suddenly realizing how serious everything was.

Mickey stared at him with a look that was half sympathetic, half pity. "So help her. Look, Arnold, she loves you, and probably always will, in spite of her efforts to feel otherwise. Her fit will pass, so in the mean time, be honest and don't piss her off too much." Mickey looked at her watch. "Look, I got to go. Probation officers kinda don't like it when you're late. Just, think about things for a while, and give her time to cool off." She put her cigarette out. "I'll see you later."

Arnold watched her leave. His head felt like exploding from all the pressure that had built up from the mess. Why can't I just go back to when girls weren't complicated? He grimaced, remembering how annoying and confusing both Helga and Lila were when they were younger. Okay, never mind. I have to fix this. I have to fix this so I can be with Helga. That's all I want…He sighed. More than anything he had ever wanted, more than playing guitar, or playing baseball, or even being with his parents, he had never wanted anything more than to be with Helga. She still loves me…and I can break it off with Lila. I can…she's not my girl…Helga is…I can do this…I can do this….

Sunday, May 3

Arnold sat outside Lila's in the blazing sun, and he could feel the hot pavement through his shorts. The weather was above average for early May, and Arnold cursed the lack of shade around her home. He pulled the lighter out of his pocket, which he accidentally picked up with his keys the day before in his rush to get to practice, and played with it, flicking the flame on and off. "Shit, Lila, Ellen said you weren't doing anything, and I don't care how you look," he muttered.

"Well, aren't you just a Goddamn charmer," a cold voice said behind him.

He turned and watched a very un-Lila-like Lila sit down on the step above him. Her hair was unkempt and loose in a ponytail, and her figure, normally clothed in something expensive and put together, was hidden underneath a baggy t-shirt and boxer shorts. Her make up was smeared as if she had not washed her face yet from the day before, and it was well into the afternoon. She snatched the lighter from his hands and lit a cigarette.

Surprised, Arnold raised his eyebrows at her. "You smoke?"

"Among other things," she blew smoke into the air.

Arnold leaned against the steps, watching her as she crossed her slender legs and stared glassily into the distance. "Why are you telling me this now?"

She sniffed and looked at him fiercely. "I know how you feel about Helga. I know you love her."

Arnold stared at her, in astonishment. "What? How?"

She laughed coldly, flicking ashes in his direction. "Please, Arnold. It's my job to know things of this detail. Especially when they involve me."

He looked away, unable to watch her as he asked her what he needed to know. "So is she right about you?"

She shrugged. "Depends. What did she say?"

Arnold closed his eyes as he struggled with his words. "She, er, said you were a selfish, heartless whore, basically."

Lila laughed. "Yeah, that's definitely what she thinks of me. Good to know she's consistent."

Arnold turned to face her. "Is she right?" he repeated, his temper beginning to give way to his anger.

Lila's blue eyes, now reminding Arnold of ice, met his gaze. She turned away, pouting her lips as she lifted the cigarette to her lips. "Basically."

Arnold felt anger and stupidity flood his chest. He had wasted too much time lusting after a girl that was nothing but a mirage, a myth. Suddenly he felt an urge for more, as disgusting as it was. He had to know everything. "To what extent is she right?"

She stared at him in shock, her eyes wide as her brows formed a v. "What?"

"What do you do? What have you done?"

She watched him in clear confusion. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice shaking, the cigarette burning in her limp hands.

"Because I have to know how wrong I was about you." He shook his head. "I don't think I can let go of you until then."

She struggled to find her words. As she spoke, she sounded on the verge of tears. "What do you want to know?

"Are you a virgin?"

"No."

Arnold swallowed hard. "When did you lose it?"

"My virginity?" she asked in a high voice.

"Yes, your virginity," he said coldly.

"I was thirteen," she whispered. She flicked the cigarette way and pulled her legs to her chest, hugging them for comfort. She looked like a small child as she rocked slightly.

"How old was he?"

Shame clouded her face as she spoke to him. "Eighteen."

Arnold nodded, thirsty for more. He had to know everything. "How many others have there been?"

"I don't know," she mumbled.

"How many?" he demanded.

"I don't know!" she cried. "Twenty men. Maybe more, maybe less. A handful of girls."

"Girls?"

Tears of shame began to fill her eyes. "Things happen when you're high."

"Off what? Pot?"

"Please, Arnold," she laughed, cutting into his soul as she laughed at his naïveté. She shrugged her shoulders as a tear fell from her eye. "I'm just a coked-up baby doll," she said with an awful smile on her face.

"When did you start doing all this?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. At first it was just to fit in, but then I found I enjoyed it." She laughed. "You know, Helga and I have hung out together at our parent's stuff for a while. Well, I wouldn't call it hanging out, but we were at the same things, and I think it would be more expected of her to turn out the way I did. You know, being so ignored for so long by her parents. I'da figured she'd find solace in those other bad things, but I guess that was me, the ever-so-sweet-and-innocent Lila." She took another drag of the cigarette. "I'm just another teenager corrupted by money and boredom, basically."

"What about your father? Are you the reason why he didn't marry that other woman?"

Lila stared at him, and as she did, Arnold did not need her to reply. He knew the answer. Arnold watched her with interest. "So Helga was completely right about you. You are heartless, and it was all an act."

She looked down. "Yeah, well, not everything that's glitters is gold." She paused. "I did really like you, though."

He eyed her carefully. "Really?" he asked, although he already believed her. He could tell it was only one of the few honest things she had said to him.

"Yeah." She laughed. "You were so trusting and delusional, like I used to be. So unlike all the guys I've been with lately. It would have been nice to just be in a normal, high school relationship for a while." She waved her cigarette in the air and watched the ashes fall to the ground. "Who knows, maybe it could've saved me." She glared at him. "But I doubt it," she finished, her tone cold.

"So if Helga knew the truth, and you weren't really the person you projected, then why did you hang out with her?"

She pulled her hair down and tossed it behind her. "Because my father wanted me to. He thought we should get along since his promotion had him hanging around the Patakis so much. And Ellen thought it would be good for Dad's career as well. And, of course, since Helga was in love with you, and she knew you liked me, it drove her insane."

He had never been so angry in his life. "Why would you do that to her? She has enough to worry about in her life without you making it more of a hell. Why didn't you just let us be together if you knew I loved her?"

She glared at him.. "Because you humiliated me. You rejected me. You're—you're in love with Helga, for Christ's sake! You were able to say such hurtful things, so I knew," she laughed. "I knew you couldn't help me. You hate me. And she used me to get to you. She used me. The whole thing's revolting."

As he listened to her, his anger melted away, replaced with pity. He had never seen someone so pathetic. "I really am sorry about this, Lila. I should've told you." He was not as angry with her as he figured he should be, he was just sad. He knew he would never be able to save her and restore her back to his innocent Lila, and furthermore, he did not want that lie anymore anyways.

"I led you on too, Arnold. And I'm sorry, ever so sorry for that."

He sighed. So one thing never really will change. "It's alright. I let you lead me on." He laughed and smiled at her. "So now what?"

Her eyes flicked with something, but he was not quite sure what. "Well, prom's Saturday, and the prospects of either of us getting another date by then is slim, so what do you say to going together to save face?"

He hesitated. "Lila, I can't. That'd just be throwing fuel in the fire."

"Arnold, she's going with Corbin, and you sitting at home on Saturday is not going to change that, nor will it make her run into your arms."

"No, but me asking you to the prom is what got me into this mess in the first place. If I go with you, she'll hate me even more."

Lila lit another. "I don't think that's possible."

"Lila!"

She laughed. "Sorry. Look, the problem that remains is a question not of love and what will piss Helga off, but one of honor."

"Honor?"

"Honor. You asked me to prom, and to ditch me would be going back on your word. And honor is very important to you, isn't it, Arnold? After all, that's one thing that I'm assuming Helga loves about you, because her father certainly doesn't have it."

He glared at her. "Don't do this, Lila."

"I'm only asking for one night. Dinner, pictures, and a few dances. That's all, and then I'll leave you alone. I have to save face, Arnold. Then I'll never bother you again."

"You can't win me back, Lila."

She laughed. "Arnold, I'm not going to fight for you. I don't want you back. You're tainted and unattainable. I just need a prom date." She narrowed her eyes. "You owe me."

"Fine," he muttered, regretting the word as soon as it was out of his mouth.

"Fabulous. Pick me up at six on Saturday. Until then, I really don't want to see your face." With that, she left him alone on the steps, disappearing into the building.

Arnold stood up and took a long route to return to the boarding house, trying to make sense of everything he had just heard. Lila was just as messed up and horrible as Helga said. Worse still, he was still going with her to prom. "This can't get any worse," he said out loud.

"I wouldn't say that, sonny, if I were you."

Arnold stared down at a middle aged homeless man who was lying against the outside of an abandoned building, holding a small cup of a few coins. "Why's that?"

The man grinned, revealing a gapped, yellow smile. "I've found that when you say that, it only goes further down hill."

Arnold pulled out a ten and shoved it into the cup. "Thanks," he muttered.

God, just kill me now.

A/N: Happy anniversary to me tomorrow…or today…anyways, later days.