Songs that were instrumental (HAHA, pun) in writing this chapter:

'Washed Away' by: Emily Jane White

'Guilty Pleasures' by: Fallen Roses ft. Greco

Journal,

It's officially been 24 hours since the worst moment of my life.

As I sit here on my bed writing in you, I am trying to decipher how it is I'm feeling tonight. In one way, I feel like I wanna punch something so hard that it shatters beneath my fists. Yet at the same time, in a totally DIFFERENT way, I feel like being introspective and poetic as though the words themselves can help stitch up my broken heart and heal me from within.

And with BOTH of those feelings living inside of me, I just sit here.

I sit here, and stare off into this daydream where there is no plot, no fanciful fantasy, but rather a sense of nothing that isn't quite tangible.

It's almost like I'm just... existing? I'm not sure if that makes sense.

While I want to be poetic and write all of these things out, I also just don't have the ENERGY to do it. Before when I was so happy with Arnold, I had the will to want to write about love and all of the wonderful things it brought about inside of me. Heck, even in the earliest days of P.S. 118 it was easier to write because even though I was angry and conflicted... I still had this underlying desire to do something with the feelings I felt.

Now?

Now it's like there are feelings in there, but they've been tranquilized. Almost as though the feelings themselves are so tired they must nap. While they get to sleep, they end up leaving me this hollow-ed out, shell of a person who wanders around on auto-pilot.

I walk.

I breathe.

I function in the way that I need to.

And as I do all of that existing, deep inside I silently wait for those lazy feelings to clock back in and get back to work and do their job of making me truly FEEL things- good OR bad.

I want to FEEL those feelings that make me want to shout from the rooftops. I don't have to be happy even- it's not like I'm USED to feeling 'happy' the way most people describe the word.

I mean, criminy! Is it really that hard to just feel my feelings at the same capacity that I USED to?

Apparently it IS that hard. Apparently it IS too much to ask for something so simple.

So I just sit here and ramble into you about how I'm feeling that I want to feel things. As if THAT makes any sense. I guess the best way to describe how I 'feel' is that it's almost like I'm numb. It's like, here I am, and everything is LOGICALLY fine and sure, Arnold dumped me and it feels internally like my life is over but... here I am. And it's just FINE.

In other news, Olga has decidedly chosen me to be her next 'fixer upper' project. She keeps trying to talk to me but then I slam the door in her face and she sits outside and weeps endlessly for me to open up to her and that she can help me and blah, blah, blah.

I swear, she must have had to buy like 8 new mascaras or something to keep up with this crying habit of hers.

I know she's trying to be nice and helpful though- I mean, it's OLGA for cripes sake. All she EVER does is be overly-nice and overly-thoughtful and overly-caring... but I just don't want it. I'm not interested in it. I don't want to talk to her, or Miriam who is all of a sudden 'concerned about my behavior' or something because she's all sober and trying to be a decent mom these days.

Honestly, it's really great she's sober and I'm proud of her for sticking with it it's just... it's just like she acts as though all of those years of 'smoothies' and straight up neglect can be wiped away by her incessant asking how I am and pretending to be interested in my life.

I just don't want to talk to EITHER of them. I don't want to talk to anyone, really.

Although I did make an exception for Phoebe when she called this afternoon.

After the dance, I'm sure it was only a matter of time before Arnold spilled the beans to Tall Hair Boy about what went down between us in the cafeteria. It isn't hard to imagine Geraldo then spilling the beans right back to her.

Of course, Phoebe is smarter than smart- she's practically a genius. I'm sure she would have figured it out easily on her own.

Anyway, I guess she first called last night, right after the dance was over, but I was too busy being holed up in my room until I eventually passed out still sopping wet from my little trek in the rain. She then called again this morning but she should know by now that I am NOT a morning person so I promptly threw the phone back at Olga when she tried to hand it to me while I lay in bed.

She finally got a hold of me around 2 or 3... honestly time means nothing at this point but it was late afternoon. The entire time she just pressed me to tell her all the gory details but I couldn't bring myself to do that to her.

I knew she wanted to tell me about Gerald.

I knew that despite me ruining my own relationship, hers was blooming and flourishing like a flower in the sun... I could tell she desperately wanted to spill her heart out to me about however the remainder of their night went but... well, Phoebe's just too nice and polite.

In the same way that I knew she wanted to tell me about Gerald, she also knew that I couldn't bear listen to whatever romantic story she would spin me from last night's events.

So our conversation wasn't much to mention in here, honestly. Here's a sample of pretty much how it went:

Phoebe goes, "Helga! I have been so worried about you since your departure at the dance last night."

I didn't really answer. I just hummed back, "Hmm." Because what was I supposed to say? Was there supposed to be some kind of response to that other than acknowledgment?

"Are you... are you okay? I heard what transpired between you and Arnold in the cafeteria..." I could tell she was choosing her words carefully but I wasn't about to tiptoe around the subject. There was no point in pretending what had happened was some nightmare and not my sick, twisted reality.

"You mean when he dumped me?" I responded and I could tell Phoebe shifted the phone in her hand due to the awkwardness she was probably feeling at my response.

After a long pause as she tried to figure out what to say, she ended up just repeating herself. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'm fine, Pheebs," I lied while laying back onto my bed and staring up at the ceiling. "Just lost the love of my life who I've pined after since the tender age of 3, so, you know... I'm doing swell."

Phoebe sighed into the receiver. "I understand your need to be facetious in a time of trauma, however... it doesn't allow you to face this directly."

"Who said I'm not facing this directly?" I countered while leaning up on my one elbow; my tone shifting to defensive as I spoke. "Isn't me saying it bluntly, exactly the way it happened and not sugar-coating it the way you just did, facing it directly?"

Another pause halted our conversation as Phoebe took in my words and tried to figure out her next move. I leaned back down to lay fully on my back onto my bed once again while I waited for her answer.

"I wasn't trying to sugar-coat my words, Helga. I was simply trying to be sensitive to your feelings."

It was my turn to sigh. While she was trying to be sensitive to how I felt, I wasn't reciprocating the notion to her. After a beat, I responded calmly. "I'm sorry, Phoebe. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just... I'm sick of everyone treating me like some wounded puppy."

"What do you mean?" She questioned and I flipped to lay on my side so I could look out the window while balancing the phone on my ear in an effort to not have to hold it in place.

I stared out the window with the balancing act on my ear and my arms crossed tightly over my chest. "I mean there's Miriam who's trying to make up for lost time by being overly-motherly. There's Olga who's now talking about delaying her trip back home so she can be here and 'nurse me out of my despair.' And, no offense, but even you, Phoebe."

"Me?" Her voice was small; hurt.

"I know you mean well but... I don't need the sympathy, okay? I don't need the sensitivity because I am very well aware of what happened and why it happened. It was my own fault, even though Arnold could have done more to make sure this didn't happen, but ultimately it was my fault." I shook my head slightly and the phone slid off my ear to land beside me on the bed.

Frowning, I picked it up and held it back up to my ear while returning to lay flat on my back. "I'm too afraid to even talk to Arnold about what happened because I know I'll just get all stupid and defensive about everything like I ALWAYS do..."

Silence settled over the phone and I pulled it away from my ear to check the screen and see if the call had dropped somehow. "Pheebs?"

"I'm here," she said softly. "I'm unsure of what to tell you, Helga."

"Guess there's nothing really to say, huh? It isn't like I can fix what happened. Not now, anyway."

So that was pretty much our conversation. I ended up telling her Miriam was calling me for something, which was a lie and I'm sure she knew it was to. I just wanted to get off the phone.

I can't stop thinking about what she said about facing this directly, though. I thought I was? I mean, I cried the night of and now, I feel empty and all, but I'm not crying anymore, am I? Honestly, I don't even know if I COULD cry. It's almost like my tear ducts are blocked off by either my own ego or something. What's the point in crying? It isn't like a sea of tears is going to fix anything or suddenly make me feel better about what has happened.

I'm not looking forward to going to school on Monday. I'm sure that, knowing Arnold, he's going to try and talk to me in person because that's just the kind of person he is. I bet his parents even gave him awesome advice on how to talk to a poor, pathetic girl. They're great advice-givers, that Stella and Miles.

It's too bad I didn't listen when Stella had offered me some. In hindsight... she was spot-on.

Guess I'll try and sleep for the night. There's not really anything else worth doing.

Until later,

Helga G. Pataki

Apparently insomnia is a real thing.

Maybe in grief, there's this other, secret and unspoken step and it's 'insomnia.'

I've been completely awake practically ALL NIGHT, just laying here. The clock says it's 3am which technically makes today Monday and technically I have to wake up and get ready for school in a matter of HOURS.

I wish somebody would just hit me in the head with a hammer so I could get some sleep already.

Guess I'll keep trying?

Well Journal, it's the morning and I've just forced myself out of bed after my long and sleepless night.

I laid there for hours amid tossing and turning. Once I would finally settle in a position, my eyes would refuse to close. It was as if I couldn't even blink more or less close them completely. They would get so dry and so irritated that my eyes would eventually close just long enough to help me continue in my foolish quest of insomnia. I stared ahead from my bed at the prickled drywall above me. The ceiling and I looked at each other for hours as if we were both waiting for the other to at last answer the question neither of us had the gall to say aloud.

How?

How could it have all gone so wrong so fast?

That one word, 'how,' swirled around me all night and echoed in my ear. The breathy question asked itself to me over and over; begging me to answer it before I could at last succumb to slumber. All night it went on like this while a sort of numbness began to fill my body akin to novocaine. First it would start at my fingertips and toes only to spread through my limbs like a virus until it slowly overtook each inch of my being so I could grow in to my sheets like a weed.

There I would be. Chained to comfort yet forced to face the consequences of my mistakes.

Awake.

Always awake.

Hopelessly awake and yet begging for the sweet, sweet relief of sleep.

I wonder if I'll ever sleep again. I spent the last hour or so of my sleepless night coming up with descriptions in my head of how I would describe the beast that is insomnia. What do you think?

Guess I'd better get ready for school. I'm not sure how, but I'm going to try my best to avoid the football-head. If I can just do that- if I can just get through this first day without talking to him or being around him...I'll be okay.

That makes total sense, right?

After all, if it's anything I've learned from all the sappy romantic movies Olga has made me sit through in my life, it's that the main character always ends up ruining everything by meeting up with their ex again. Thus, according to that logic, avoidance is KEY in dealing with an ex- otherwise, feelings just pop up and you end up sobbing publicly on a subway while eating an entire loaf of bread while everyone sitting around you stares in an odd combination of pity, confusion and fear.

Wish me luck I guess,

Helga G. Pataki

As Helga walked the halls of Hanson Middle School, she found that the textures of both the linoleum in the foyer and carpeted flooring of the halls suddenly felt foreign beneath her feet. It was almost as though she was in an entirely different universe from the one she had known.

Everything about the school felt wrong to her.

The florescent lighting from above blinded her washed-out blue eyes and no amount of squinting seemed to help. The once mindless chatter and laughter surrounding her as she walked passed the endless rows of lockers seemed muffled as though she were deep in a pit of water; as though she were drowning. Perhaps she could equate it to an animal trapped behind the glass of a zoo display where her ears could only make out the mumbles of her admirers just on the other side of the window.

And while she flailed and struggled to get her bearings from within the zoo's captivity, the onlookers merely watched with half-interest, but mostly with apathy.

As she continued her way down the hallway in pursuit of her locker, she glanced around herself at her peers going about their morning. School had yet to begin, and Helga had already found herself lost in the search for Arnold.

She searched because she wanted to see how he was taking all of this.

She searched because she had to know that he was just as hurt as she was.

Yet, she mostly searched for Arnold because she was determined to avoid him at all costs.

Like a fly on the wall, Helga merely desired to see his actions and decide if she had ever truly meant a thing to him. If she had, he would be distraught, wouldn't he? If he truly loved her as he once claimed he had, he too would be walking through the halls as distantly and as blankly as she currently was, right?

Apparently not.

As she rounded the corner leading to her block of lockers, her azure irises landed on that of the familiar football-headed boy who still owned her heart. Helga froze in place as she watched him nonchalantly go about his day.

There he is, she thought to herself as he picked around in his locker for what she didn't care enough to see. Alas, my fallen angel is there- right there and yet, here I am; still utterly bewitched by the boy with the cornflower hair. Always my beloved, she continued thinking before near silently whispering out the rest of her thought, "...my despair."

She stood as everyone in the hallway walked around her statuesque figure like ants traveling to and from their hive while avoiding a large obstacle in their way.

Despite her obvious blocking of the hallway's center, Helga kept her gaze stuck on Arnold as she waited for him to at last turn around. She needed to gauge his feelings. She needed to see that hurt in his eyes and that downturn of his lips. And if she didn't...

Helga blinked away the answer to that thought and instead remained focused on Arnold where he dug around in his locker. Just as he found the book he had apparently been searching for, he turned his head and Helga's eyes followed where Arnold looked. Walking towards him was Gerald who offered his friend gestured towards his best friend.

Though her eyes were dry, Helga dared not look away from the interaction the pair were sharing. Surely there would be a clue, no matter how minute, that would tell Helga what she was in desperation to know.

Closing his locker, Arnold at last turned around. The ex-girlfriend eye's widened as she at last caught eye of the expression he had purposefully put on when deciding what to wear for the day.

Helga however took the expression as it was; a pleasant look on a relatively happy adolescent boy. He appeared fine and it was with that look Arnold silently stabbed Helga directly into her heart. For a moment, she felt her very heart stop in her chest as though gasping in lieu of her lungs.

He's fine, she found the words resounding inside her brain, He's fine and I'm... I'm...

As though stuck in a groove on a record, Helga's thought processcontinued to skip over the first syllable of the next word she so wanted to tell herself.

Fi-

Fi-

Fi-

Just then, a familiar pair of green eyes halted her mind entirely as they connected with hers. The lanky girl and the short blonde boy stared at one another as he approached where she stood; still feeling like her feet had been glued to the floor

With a shake of her head that could only be felt by the tall preteen rather than seen by anybody, Helga muttered the remainder of her thought aloud, "...not fine."

Almost instantaneously, she quickly turned over her shoulder and rushed away to be out of the green eyed boy's line of vision. As she ventured away from him, her eyes darted around her in search for a place to hide should Arnold come after her.

Bathroom! The inner Pataki's voice screamed as her eyes landed on the familiar picture that typically accompanied restrooms. With a sharp intake of breath, Helga pushed her way diagonally through the bustling hallway in pursuit of the archway which led to the girl's bathroom.

Once inside, Helga slowed her pace until she at last stopped in front of the last sink in the four-sink-sequence of the bathroom. Reaching out, she gripped either side of the porcelain and allowed her weight to lean against the palms of her hands while her head looked down towards the drain.

It was dry. Nobody had used the sink for the day yet and impulsively, Helga pushed herself from the sink so her hands were free to make a cup under the faucet's sensor. Cold water began to spray out onto her hands and she jumped mildly at the temperature but continued to keep her hands cupped under the stream; patiently awaiting heat.

After a few seconds, warmth finally spilled onto her hands and Helga closed her eyes to bask in the comfort the warm water brought with it.

As she stood at the bathroom sink fresh from her illuminating conversation with none other than Brainy himself, Helga brought her shaking hands up to jitter beneath the faucet's sensor. Water shot out onto her eager hands as she tried to wash away both her shame and Arnold himself. Aimlessly she scrubbed at her hands without so much as a drop of soap to help.

"I gotta get out of here," Helga muttered to herself as the water slowly transitioned from ice cold to a comfortable warmth. "I can't just stay here and... and..." she shook her head while maintaining the intensity she used while washing her hands.

"And what?" A snooty voice asked from behind and Helga's eyes darted up to the mirror ahead of her. Just in the streaked glass she could see Rhonda's reflection emerging from a stall she had thought to be empty.

Helga had thought the entire bathroom was empty.

Pressing her lips tightly together, Helga dropped her hands to rest briefly on the inside of the sink as water continued to pour from the faucet. After a beat of thinking on how to react, she took her dripping hands away from the sink and wandered over to where the air dryer and paper towel dispensers were located.

Turning over her shoulder to look at where Rhonda stood with her arms crossed and a curious expression on her face, Helga quietly asked in a monotone voice, "What do you want, Lloyd." It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement and as soon as the words left her mouth, Helga stuck her wet hands under the dryer which in turn set off a loud hurricane-like noise that filled the suddenly-crowded room.

"Oh nothing," Rhonda said in a smug tone while keeping her eyes fixated on the blonde who focused her attention on the hot air blowing onto her skin. "I guess I'm just curious what it is you're trying to escape from at this, our first middle school dance."

Helga continued to focus on the way her skin rippled under the ferocity of the hot air pushing away droplets of water from her pale skin.

Despite her lack of reaction, Rhonda huffed out a small breath before offering a minuscule shrug of her shoulders. "I mean, certainly there couldn't be any trouble in Pataki Paradise," She spoke as she walked towards the row of sinks and began washing her own hands while the hint of a smile tugged at her perfectly glossed lips. "Right?"

Clenching her fists under the dryer, Helga fought the urge to sock Miss Lloyd in her smug, painted face. Taking a deep breath before speaking, she turned to face Rhonda who continued to wash her hands as if she held some dirty little secret that she was ready to expose at any moment.

Playing the fool in hopes that the most popular girl in the grade knew not what she spoke of, Helga replied carefully to Rhonda's insinuation. "Why would there be trouble, huh? You know something I don't, Princess?"

Letting out a snobby giggle, Rhonda took her hands from under the faucet of the sink and gently shook some of the excess water from them. While she held her perfectly manicured hands in front of her to drip, she pivoted her body to look at Helga with a knowing glimmer in her eyes. "I'm sure I know nothing more than you already know, Helga. But don't worry," she said, though her tone instantly suggested one should worry. "Break-ups are tough on everyone. I'm sure nobody will blame you for that little... episode that you had in the cafeteria."

"Episode?" Helga questioned with a blank expression lining her face, despite knowing exactly what the Queen Bee was referencing.

"Oh Helga," Rhonda chuckled while dodging around where Helga stood in pursuit of the paper towel dispenser. "We all knew you hated Lila, especially after the whole, 'Poo Poo Princess' debacle, but to question Arnold's very integrity? Now that's just... a big no-no in a relationship. A real faux pas."

Heat began to rise in Helga's body as Rhonda's words hit her like a slap in the face. As she closed her eyes to take in the meaning behind what had just been said, Helga let a grin of her own take root on her lips. Opening her eyes, she quickly narrowed them in Rhonda's direction before feeding in to the games that Rhonda loved best- drama, gossip, secrets and blackmail.

"A real faux pas, huh?" She repeated before going in for the kill as Rhonda pulled on the paper towels she needed to dry her privileged hands. "I hear cheating and deception fits into that category pretty well too but, I mean, what would I know about that, right? I should ask an expert shouldn't I, Miss Wellington-Lloyd?"

Pausing for a moment, Rhonda continued to wipe at her hands before slowly crumpling the towels into a tightly wadded ball. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Pataki."

"Right," Helga responded instantly, "Should I ask Harold about all the gory details then or is it better to ask your date, Brandon or whatever his name-"

"Now you just stop right there, Helga G. Pataki," Rhonda spun around to look at Helga with an stink-eyed glare. "I'm not the one everyone will remember for tonight, that's going to be you and the crap you pulled on Arnold and Lila."

"Will it though?" The lanky blonde countered. "Because I'm sure that a scandal surrounding the most popular girl in our grade would be far more interesting than anything that happened with little ol' me."

Rhonda sighed and shook her head as she continued to hold the balled up paper towels in her hands. "You still don't get it, do you?"

Looking around herself as though there were something obvious around her that she was missing, Helga smirked to herself before responding. "Get what?"

Taking a few steps towards her, Rhonda met Helga at her eyeline from where she stood on her wedged heels. Just inches apart, the smug teenager spoke in a threatening whisper that sent a shiver up Helga's spine. "Arnold is special. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that."

"Well sure, he's basically the grade's golden boy but-" Helga tried to dismiss, but Rhonda was fast to halt her in her tracks.

"Exactly. He's the golden boy, okay? Arnold does nearly nothing wrong, ever. Whereas you on the other hand..." Rhonda eyed Helga for a moment before upturning her lips in a knowing smile. "Well, I suppose we all knew you'd screw this up somehow."

"But I didn't screw this up, okay? Arnold should have-" she tried again to defend herself but Rhonda took no notice of Helga's attempts and continued to speak.

"Sure, sure, Helga," her voice sounded reassuring but Helga knew better than to trust Rhonda's understanding facade. "Maybe Arnold should have but you know who also should have? You. If we're looking at track-records on who to trust, I think it's Arnold who deserves a little more leeway than you, don't you think?"

Helga may have been wounded but Rhonda's words especially stung where they hit and she fought back the urge to back down against the dark-haired beauty standing before her. "Arnold is a forgiving guy, he can't help himself. We'll be just fine, Rhonda, so I wouldn't worry your delicate little head about it. I'm sure we'll be okay."

Rhonda stared at her for a long while before at last blinking and stepping away from Helga to walk towards the trashcan in the corner of the bathroom. "You may be sure of that, Helga," Rhonda stated, "But I'm not. And frankly, neither is the rest of our grade from what I've been hearing."

"From what you've been hearing?" Helga snapped in utter confusion and anger, "Hearing from who? It happened not even a half hour ago..."

"I have my sources, Helga. Even you should know that by now." Elegantly, Rhonda tossed her paper towel ball into the trash and Helga watched with a disappointed look in her eyes.

"You know, Rhonda," Helga said in a dry voice, "You speak so highly of Arnold and how good of a guy he is... I wonder how 'the golden boy' would feel knowing that this-this... spoiled, narcissistic, power-hungry brat is what you've become. After everything he did for you when you were broke and always being there for you when you've done something horrible to Nadine... I wonder what he'd think of you now."

Helga's words seemed to take to Rhonda differently this time and for an instant, the glamorous girl seemed to re-think her actions in correlation to what had been said. As fast as the moment happened, however, it was gone and she looked up at Helga with a determined sparkle behind her brown irises.

"I've never been exactly... a good person, Helga," Rhonda admitted with a certain level of authenticity hardly anyone was allowed to witness. "Sure, back then I ultimately ended up doing the good, or right thing as it were but... well, it's easier in elementary school to do the right thing or at least try to do the right thing, that is."

She watched as Rhonda's face turned from being earnest to a hard and stoic expression; one that Helga recognized as a look she often used herself when trying to face the world.

Softly, Rhonda continued. "But middle school? High school? College? The 'real world' we're warned about from the moment we're born?" She scoffed as though dismissing everything she'd previously said. "Surely I don't have to explain to you the importance of being in control of ones image. When you're in control, nobody can hurt you... can they, Helga?"

The blonde was speechless where she stood. Rhonda had a point. After all, wasn't that control the reason Helga had began bullying back at Urban Tots? Wasn't that scared and hurt little toddler trying to form an image others couldn't, and wouldn't dare try to hurt? Who was Helga to judge how Rhonda made her way through life when she herself had indulged that way of living for so much of her own childhood?

"I'll take your silence as my answer," Rhonda finalized before walking towards the bathroom door in an effort to at last exit the tiny room. "We both know that you won't go spilling the beans about Harold and I. After all, Arnold wouldn't approve of that kind of gossip-mongering and, well, I know you value his opinion over everyone else's... even yourself."

She stared helplessly as Rhonda took a deep breath and sent Helga a sad smile as some kind of consolation to her pain. "I am sorry, you know. About you and Arnold. Not for your sake, though."

Helga opened her mouth to speak but Rhonda merely continued as though never noticing her cue to let the blonde girl say her peace. Instead, Rhonda went on as though lost in her own thoughts. "In our breed of self-preservation, it's never us who are hurt quite as badly as those who are caught in our web, is it? Sure, the spider may be sad to eat such an innocent bug, but the necessity of it is why they feast anyway."

"I never intended to hurt Arnold, Rhonda. I'm not some black widow devouring an innocent." Helga's words were firm as she spoke; confident.

Eyeing her, Rhonda seemed to inspect Helga as if trying to decide whether to believe her words or not. After a moment, she tsked her tongue with a small shake of her head.

"No," she said thoughtfully, "I think you are," Rhonda replied as she reached for the handle of the door and yanked it open; the muffled blend of music and unintelligible conversation spilling into the room. "And I also think that you know you are too. Maybe not a black widow, but that spider with her web nonetheless. And despite your best intentions, I think that deep down inside, you knew that something like this would happen."

With a little nod of her head, Rhonda didn't allow enough silence to settle between the two in order to give Helga the chance to fight back. "Ciao, Helga." And with that, she left her behind with the swing of the bathroom door.

The bathroom door swung open as a small group of girls filtered inside; their chatter pulling Helga from her memories.

Maybe Rhonda had been right to a degree, Helga found herself pondering. Maybe some inner part of her knew there was a strong possibility that she would be the ultimate demise of an otherwise perfect relationship.

However, even if that did make Rhonda even the slightest bit correct, did that really make her a some kind of predator surviving off of others?

No, Helga thought to herself as she ignored the silent stares of the bathroom's newest inhabitants, I'm not some spider. I didn't lure anybody with the inevitable knowledge of my hurting them... especially not Arnold.

Yet as she pushed passed the group of girls to exit the bathroom without even drying her hands, Helga couldn't fight back that annoying inner voice of self-shame. No matter how hard she tried, it never silenced; always repeating the same thing over and over again to her like a persistent nagging whisper in her ear.

Didn't you, though?

Didn't you?

By the time lunch hour came around, Helga was exhausted from avoiding Arnold.

Every turn she made or step she took she was either nearly about to make contact with the kid or, worse yet, she was forced to witness/hear about the new cutest couple of the grade.

Stinky Peterson and that damned Lila.

Of course she knew, courtesy of the big disaster in the cafeteria, that the two had gotten together. After all, that was the decaying root which ended up driving Helga so mad that she practically set in motion her own break-up.

It is with our death that she flourishes, Helga would think to herself as she avoided seeing the pair be oogled over in the hallway, both a blooming flower and yet a succubus who entraps all around her until they themselves are gone.

No matter her mean thoughts or anything-but-cheerful disposition towards Lila, the red-haired girl always looked to her with the sincerest of sympathies; her heart hurting for the girl she knew despised her beyond all reason.

It was that sympathy that Helga despised more than the girl dishing it out herself. Had she not been so selfish, maybe Arnold would have told her what was going on and she wouldn't have had to become so paranoid.

Criminy! Helga exclaimed in her head from where she now sat at the lunchroom table beside Phoebe, If it wasn't for that Lila and her selfish need to hide her stupid secret I wouldn't even be IN this mess!

All the while, her self-shame continued to whisper in her ear: Wouldn't you, though? You would have ended up here eventually, wouldn't you?

As her thoughts stirred in her head, Helga let her guard down due to Lila once more- this time her punishment being none other than Arnold himself at last standing before her.

"Helga?" He asked sheepishly and as she looked up to face those shimmering green pools she'd once leisurely swam in, she suddenly felt as though she were drowning in his emerald gaze.

"ENOUGH, HELGA!" Arnold's words rang through the now silent cafeteria as she stood frozen before him.

Silently, she inspected every inch of the boy she loved. She looked him over from his head to his toes and came to one conclusion only- this was the moment.

This was the moment she had feared most of all since they first began dating after the trip to San Lorenzo.

Arnold's stance was strong and he appeared to be tensing every muscle in his body; his jaw clenched tightly as he stared down his girlfriend. Just beside him stood Lila who was seemingly in a state of shock mixed with sadness over the situation the three found themselves in.

Helga couldn't care less about Lila, however. It was Arnold that she was worried over and even though she had a pretty good clue as to how this night would end, she tried in vain to halt the break-up express that was doomed to decimate her world.

"Arnold," Helga spoke in a shaky voice while taking a single step in his direction; her hand reaching out towards him as though if she could hang on to him for just a minute longer, all would be forgiven and forgotten. "Arnold..." she tried again.

Try as she may, Arnold didn't even flinch at her words. "Arnold, my love, I only did this-"

"I don't want to hear it, Helga," he cut her off and before his next words even left his lips, she knew what he would say next. "It's over."

Defeated, Helga dropped her arm which so desperately reached towards him. "Ov-Over?" She repeated with the foolish hope that he would correct her and this would all be some kind of misunderstanding.

His eyes, those stunning green eyes which looked at her with such disappointment, told her all that she needed to know. There was no fixing what she'd done. The trust they shared had been broken and she didn't need Arnold's words to tell her what she already knew.

"I'm sorry," Helga forced the words out as though they were cause for the lump still growing in her throat while tears began pooling at the edge of her vision.

"Why are you apologizing to me?" Arnold asked in a stern tone that she had never heard come from the usually docile boy.

Helga stuttered for an answer to his question. "Because, I, well I, you... I've hurt you-" she managed and Arnold shook his head the moment the words left her mouth.

"No, Helga. You hurt Lila." He looked over to where she was staring down at her feet silently; her entire being curled in to itself where she stood. "You attacked her for no reason!"

"Not for no reason," Helga immediately defended herself as a force of habit. "You two were... were..."

"Were what? What is it that you thought we were doing by just standing here and talking?" Arnold's voice remained firm but inquisitive and Helga swallowed hard before answering after a moment.

"I guess I thought you two were up to something, or... something." The words didn't sound as convincing as the feelings had felt and Helga looked away from Arnold to focus her attention towards the floor on a single speckle in the linoleum.

"We were up to something, yes," his words made Helga perk up and her eyes glanced up through her eyelashes to look at Arnold who didn't look any less intense than he had moments ago. "We were trying to... we were..."

Suddenly it was Arnold who faultered in his words and he looked to Lila who, still crumpled in to herself, nodded her head solemnly as though giving him permission.

"Arnold what-" Helga started to say but he pressed on and at last told Helga of the reasoning behind the secret she had been so afraid of.

"We were trying to get Stinky to ask Lila out," he revealed in a hushed tone as if the silent and staring onlookers couldn't hear him if he lowered his voice. "She was nervous to ask him herself so we thought we could come up with a way for him to ask her instead."

"I was scared," Lila suddenly spoke up and all eyes directed their attention to where she stood. "I was just oh so certain I couldn't go through with it and I-I-I asked for Arnold's help and I'm so sorry-"

"You don't have to apologize, Lila," Arnold insisted as Helga glared at him but Lila shook her head and continued on her plight.

"I am just, ever so sorry to you, Helga. I never intended for you, or anyone, to think that I had feelings for Arnold in that way." Frightened eyes peeked up to look at Helga who maintained her glare towards the redhead.

"Well I did!" Helga shouted and Arnold took a step in her direction to stop her from continuing.

"Why, Helga? I told you that it was nothing and that it had nothing to do with you. Why couldn't you have just..." Arnold's eyes shifted from anger to one of melancholia,"Why couldn't you have just trusted me?"

"I... I did-"

"You didn't." Arnold's voice cracked on the words and the break in his voice felt like a bullet to Helga's heart. "You didn't and now-now—"

"What?" Helga was desperate and Lila looked on from behind where Arnold stood with a hopeful expression.

Silence settled in the cafeteria as everyone awaited Arnold's next words. After nearly a solid minute of a deafening quiet, Arnold shook his head and let out a heavy sigh.

"I don't know, Helga. I-I think we should take some time apart and think about things. About us and what this relationship means and should mean."

His words latched onto her like heavy magnets which clung to her body and weighed her down. Breathlessly, she tried once more to plead reason into her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. "Arnold...I..."

Once more, his eyes met with hers from across the cafeteria; a sense of betrayal lost in his gaze. "Helga, Please."

"Helga, please?"

The blonde returned to reality with a blink and swallowed a tiny lump that had begun forming as she went back into her memories. "What-What did you say?"

Arnold glanced over to Gerald who was seated beside Phoebe just across from Helga. "I just wanted to ask if we could talk after school? On the steps in the foyer?"

Helga suddenly felt hot under the countless eyes now staring as Arnold awaited her response. In a moment of weakness, she looked around herself only to lock eyes with Rhonda who raised a perfectly-plucked brow in her direction.

"S-Sure. Yeah we can do that. Fine." Answers purged themselves from her lips as if a simple 'yes' would not have sufficed.

"Alright, good," He responded with a sigh of relief before shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "I'll see you after school then."

Despite her mouth feeling more dry than a desert, Helga swallowed back another lump threatening to choke her entirely. "Yeah, okay. After school."

A small smile graced Arnold's lips and Helga found herself hanging on the minimal upturn that gave her even the tiniest glimmer of hope at rekindling their relationship. "Bye, Helga."

Helga watched sadly as he walked away; her eyes carefully noting how differently he was walking. She may have thought that this hadn't effected him at first, but from the way he dragged his feet and looked down at the ground with each step, it was abundantly clear that he was at least a little devastated.

Perhaps even more so.

Sure, he had been angry but overall, the one thing that was most apparent was his disappointment. The way he had looked at her that night, even just now in the lunchroom, he didn't have to say so for her to know he was disappointed.

And as everyone knows, disappointment is much worse than being angry.

Closing her eyes, Helga sat at the lunch table and silently played through the events of the dance once more; her memory lingering on the disappointment in his eyes as he looked at her.

When her eyes shot open, they opened with a sense of determination. She wasn't about to let that disappointment sully their relationship. As far as Helga was concerned, her and Arnold were far from over whether he knew it or not.

She'd show him that she trusted him.

She'd show him that her mistake was just a fluke.

She'd show Arnold once and for all that they were soulmates destined to be together, or her name wasn't Helga G. Pataki.

But the self-shame returned with haste to whisper its latest nagging fear into her ear once more.

What if you can't, though?

What if you can't show him?

Thank you for reading this far and continuing to support my little story. I know Helga is having a rocky go of it, but I do promise that things with her and Arnold will not always be like this and she is right about one thing- they truly are soulmates! Just bear with me and I promise you will get your weight's worth in fluffy romantic cuteness!

PLEASE leave me a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter! I so appreciate any and all feedback as it really is what keeps me writing. Thank you for reading and I hope to see you at the next chapter! Keep staying safe and healthy out there! xo