So, I've been kind of doing this…weird thing. And maybe it's not WEIRD so much as it is familiar? It's as though I'm right there again, hiding behind a trash can, a wall, the corner of the alleyway and that fence leading across the street from Vitello's… I'm right back there hiding from the world and pulling out my locket to deliver a monologue right from my very SOUL.
Only THIS time, I'm doing it on a computer from the safety of a screen and the 'delete' button poised beneath my fingertip.
Sure, I was royally pissed when Raul made me accidently send that message to Arnold.
Sure, I allowed my paranoia to consume me because he left me on 'read' only to never respond.
Sure, I imagined the countless things I could ream him for by not replying, all of which made me sound more like a MANIAC than a sane human person.
But amid my mulling over what I would POTENTIALLY tell him via messenger if I could, I had this thought—what if I typed out all of those messages? What if, when I was positive that he wasn't online, I typed out my feelings only to delete them into oblivion after they were 'voiced?' It beats delivering speeches to a locket, although I have to admit, I've been missing those monologues lately…
It's genius!
Absolutely brilliant!
A revolutionary idea!
It might be idiotic to risk hitting that 'enter' key on accident again, sure, but I've thought this through and I'm fairly confident than I've created a fail-safe for THAT as well.
You see, Journal, I wait until it's late. No longer are the days that Helga G. Pataki recklessly stalks Arnold's profile out in the open for any and all to see. NOW, I wait until night and I can easily slip into the cover of darkness. Only THEN do I tip-toe downstairs with anticipation at performing my latest sacred ritual.
Carefully and quietly, I sneak to the computer and log-on. Once in, I silently navigate my way to FaceNetwork and search for Arnold's profile—careful to delete the search just in case someone was to follow my trail for whatever reason and discover these secret stalker-like activities.
After scrolling through any status updates or newly added pictures and likes, I click on that little circle with the 'message' icon beside it. THAT'S when the fun REALLY begins.
Checking a second time to be sure that there is no green halo surrounding his profile picture to indicate he was online, I begin crafting the love-letter I never intend to send.
"Arnold, my sultry strange-headed darling," Helga whispered to herself as she typed the words into the message box. "How I yearn for the days that our hands touch, that our lips graze, and that we tell each other the secrets harbored in our young souls. How I miss the subtle scent of your shampoo and the smile across your freakishly-large face when you look at me, and yet…"
Glancing around herself, Helga peered into the darkness for any signs of life that might be watching her while she acted out her inner-most desires. Itching at her like a beetle crawling beneath her flesh, Helga had waited for this moment—this moment of solitude—when she could quietly voice the words that she pondered all day long. Even though nobody would hear, or read them, it felt satisfying to type them out and speak them to the brightly lit screen ahead.
"I am too afraid to tell you," she admitted as her fingers danced away atop the keys. "I'm too afraid to tell you how much I still care… how badly I wish we could try and date once again."
Chewing on her lip momentarily, Helga swallowed hard before taking a deep breath and finishing her thought aloud while slowly typing the words out. "I guess that I'm just too proud to admit my own faults… that it was never you with the issues but me—the sour and jealous young girl who holds nothing but love and adoration towards you and your ridiculous football-shaped head."
Feverishly, Helga continued to type; her fingers flitting across the keyboard while she purged her feelings to the screen ahead. "Oh Arnold, if I could just muster the courage. If I could just push my fears aside and tell you what I've been trying to tell you. If I could just—"
"Helga?" A groggy voice called from the darkness and Helga spun around in the swivel computer chair to see an unidentifiable figure in the darkness.
And this WHOLE RITUAL was working out JUST FINE until last night when a certain SOMEONE had to interrupt me… AGAIN.
Honestly, this house is cursed. If it's ONE thing that I miss about home, it's the fact that everyone just leaves me the hell alone for the most part. But at Olga's?
It's just hard to remain invisible for some reason and I have yet to figure out if that's a blessing or a curse. I suppose it's a good thing, really. I mean, once I ripped the band-aid off of giving my stupid sister a chance… she didn't have as many annoyingly-peppy things to say like she usually does.
In fact, as much as it truly PAINS to me to say so… I think we even… BONDED.
Excuse me while I get this horrible taste out of my mouth from admitting that, but it's true. You see, when she interrupted me the other night—
Out of the black, Olga stepped into the glow emitting from the computer screen and Helga offered a weak smile that she hoped would get her out of trouble for being up in the middle of the night.
"Ol-Olga…" she stuttered out while maintaining her false grin. "What are… what are you doing up so late?"
Without a hint of humor, Olga stood stoic in front of the teenager with her arms crossed loosely over her chest. With a simple shrug of her shoulders, she quietly countered her sister's question with one of her own. "I suppose I could ask you the same question, couldn't I?"
The pair stared at one another for a long while; Helga unable to read her sister's frozen expression. After a prolonged moment, Olga let out a sigh and allowed her arms to drop at her sides. "Come on," she stated before turning around to begin making her way towards the stairs leading to the second floor.
With her brow raised, Helga watched her sister for a second in sheer confusion. "You… you want me to follow you? You aren't going to scold me or give me some long speech about being up late on the computer, in the dark, ruining my eyes?"
Slowly, the eldest Pataki turned to look at Helga where she sat in the computer chair and tilted her head quizzically. "Is that what you want me to do, baby sister? To lecture you?"
"Well, no. Not really."
"Alright then," she said before turning around and waiting for her sibling to follow after her as she had previously instructed. When Helga failed to move from her spot at the computer, Olga cleared her throat softly before saying, "Come on, Helga. Why don't you turn off the computer and come with me? I'd like to talk to you."
"I knew it," Helga grumbled to herself as she twisted around to close out of the FaceNetwork tab and clicked her way to shut down the computer. As she stood up from the chair and began making her way towards her sister in the darkness.
Once she met her sister at the landing of the stairs, she sighed dramatically and drudged past her to begin the ascent leading to Olga's room. Knowing entirely where this was headed, or so she thought, Helga groaned more to herself than to Olga, "Let's get this over with…"
However, despite Helga's obvious lack of enthusiasm at what she had in mind, Olga followed behind with a pep in her step and a slight smile upon her lips. Whether her baby sister wished to bond with her was irrelevant. Instead, Olga focused her attention on being honest and raw with the girl she knew felt such distance towards her. This was her chance, her golden opportunity to begin fixing the many years of animosity the two shared and she intended to do the hard work that she knew was necessary.
She could only hope that Helga would choose to let her in, just once, for even the briefest of seconds.
When they finally approached the room in question, Helga dragged herself inside and plopped down to sit at the edge of Olga's bed. Following after her, Olga entered the room and gently closed the door behind her to give them a sense of privacy.
Helga didn't feel that it was for privacy's sake that her sister had closed the door. She felt trapped; forced to be confined within the walls of Olga's room and company while being reamed for using the computer without permission and so late at night.
Of course, she DRAGGED me to her room with the guise that she wasn't going to try and give me some long-winded speech about my eyesight and staring at computer screens in the dark. I figured she was probably not super stoked about me using the computer at like 2 in the morning either.
No matter WHAT her speech was going to be, I just followed along and hoped that it would be over soon so I could go to bed and try again tomorrow night instead.
But Olga had OTHER plans.
"Helga," Olga said amid a sigh before taking a few steps towards her sister where she sat blankly on the mattress. "First off, I want to… to apologize to you."
Rather than being surprised, Helga appeared more confused than anything; her eyebrow perching itself up as she eyed her sister curiously. "Oh, really now? You want to apologize to me?" Letting out a scoff, Helga soon crossed her arms unconvinced and waited for the punchline that would fail to be delivered.
"I know it may seem surprising to you, especially given the circumstance that I just found you in," Olga continued before taking a seat beside Helga on the bed, "but I feel that I owe you an apology."
Staring at Olga for a long time while pursing her lips, Helga waited a beat before responding. "Okay…" she dragged the word out as though it would give her a few additional seconds to process what was happening. "If you apologizing to me is going to somehow help you sleep better at night or whatever, then I guess… apologize away." Throwing her arms up halfheartedly, she fell backwards to lay down while softly shutting her eyes as Olga took a deep breath.
"Helga," she began tentatively, "Do you know why I wanted you to come and stay with me over the Summer?"
Opening one eye to peek up and see Olga was still looking at the wall that lay ahead of them, she closed her eye again and said, "Not really. You wanted to bond with me or something?"
"Oh, Helga, you silly girl," she chuckled as the youngest Pataki winced slightly from where she lay, "I'm always so hoping that one day we will bond like true sisters, but…" her voice trailed off and her once perky voice shifted back to a solemn and melancholy tone. "No. That's… that's not why I invited you to stay with me."
A significant minute of silence blanked the two girls as Helga awaited what Olga would say next. When nothing was said, Helga opened her eyes and pushed herself up to sit where she folded her legs into a pretzel-style position. "Alright, alright. I'll bite," she muttered before taking a deep breath and saying without much emotion, "why did you invite me up to stay with you, Olga?"
Turning her head to look in Helga's direction, Olga quietly said, "So I could finally be your big sister."
She sat me down on the bed and started telling me that she wanted to be a 'big sister' to me like she hadn't already been my big sister—and REMINDED me of that fact every day of my natural born LIFE—and would continue to be until one of us drops dead.
But she didn't say it the same way that she USUAULLY does, you know, with that whole decadently sweet routine she pulls like I'm still three years old or something. No, she said it really differently, like there was some meaning behind the word that neither of us had really grasped before and we were sitting on her bed at 2am to talk about what the definition of 'big sister' was.
Which is essentially what we did now that I think about it.
"Olga," Helga stated flatly, "You've always been my big sister. You only tell me so every stinkin' time we see each other or talk on the phone—"
"Yes, I have always been your big sister in that I am older than you. However, I haven't always been your big sister," she reiterated with heavy emphasis. "I haven't been the big sister than you deserve."
"Pssh, yeah right," Helga dismissed with ease. "I'm pretty sure every human being on the face of the planet would beg to differ."
"Not you," Olga quickly replied. "You wouldn't, Helga. Would you?"
The question caught the teenager off-guard. While she wanted to blurt out that Olga was right, that she never had been the big sister she needed while growing up, a small piece at her very core stopped her from responding. Instead of giving an answer, Helga merely shook her head and asked, "What does this have to do with anything, huh? You know you're a good sister. It's fine, okay? I'm fine, you're fine, it's all—"
"Please don't dismiss me, Helga." Olga's words were gentle and careful. They were calm with an undertone of sincerity and sadness of which Helga had never heard from her sister before. "Saying something is 'fine' does not make it so. Acceptance of poor actions does not condone them."
"You don't need to shrink me, Olga," she retorted with a small scoff. "But for you to say you weren't a good sister, well, I guess a billion other people—the kids staying here included—would beg to differ."
The eldest Pataki chewed on the words her sister had said, her mind mulling over how she could respond in a way that would get her point across. There was such a contrast between the two siblings—always had been—and it was something that had always bothered Olga though it seemed not to affect Helga. The youngest had always appeared at peace with their complicated relationship and it was that fact which bothered Olga the most.
To Olga, it felt as though Helga never expected anything to change between them—that growth and evolution would not touch their relationship no matter their age. It was something that often haunted Olga; something that she was desperate to prove was not the case.
After a prolonged period of silence settled in the room, Olga began to speak in a hushed tone while her eyes remained far off in the distance. "Did you know that, while Raul and Jamal have been here the longest, Jordan is the reason I opened up my home the way I did?"
The sentiment felt random and Helga scrunched her face into an expression of confusion before she replied. "Uh… no. What does that—"
"I had just been babysitting the twins for their mother," she continued without allowing Helga to finish speaking. "She works quite a few jobs you know, and I thought it might be nice to have some other life in this house besides myself." Turning to glance briefly at her sister, Olga smiled sadly and said, "It can get awfully lonely when you live by yourself."
"What, like there aren't a ton of guys willing to kill themselves at the chance to be your live-in buddy-buddy?" Helga sneered, though Olga ignored the comment and continued with her story.
"Jordan is a friend of theirs, or rather, he's their neighbor. Him and his family live just across the street from the twins a few blocks down and he's had… a rough life to say the least." She paused for a moment as if to collect her thoughts before proceeding with care.
"His mother is…" she stopped to shake her head to herself at the thought of the lanky woman she had met a handful of times, "well, she's extremely unpleasant to say the least. From the few times I've talked with her, she doesn't care much for Jordan—acts as though he's a burden to a lifestyle she won't give up for motherhood."
Olga's eyes were far away again, and Helga watched her sister intently as she continued to tell the story of the mysterious boy who stayed in her home.
"His father on the other hand is hardly in the picture," she went on with a hard swallow. "I'm not sure what it is he does, but from what Jordan tells me, it's as though he doesn't exist to him."
"Wow," Helga breathed out. "That… that really sucks."
Twisting to look back at her sister, Olga nodded her head. "It does suck, Helga. Jordan is an exceptionally gifted child. He is an avid reader and looks at the world with such… such maturity." A small smile grew on her face as she said her next words. "He reminds me of someone else I know."
Rolling her eyes, Helga allowed the comment to bounce off of her rather than be absorbed. "Yeah, yeah. Like I'm so brilliant next to the infamous Olga Pataki."
As soon as her smile had shown itself, it quickly faded as Helga's words were processed. "You two are so alike," she noted in a somber voice. "You and Jordan. In your worlds, you feel invisible. It's an unfair feeling for a child to have, that feeling from lack of affection. And neither of you have siblings who help to ease lonely that pain."
Helga's face relaxed in a state of shock at what her sister had openly admitted. For the first time since she had known her, Olga was acknowledging her piece in the complicated puzzle that was Helga's life. While she had always known that feeling of loneliness and invisibility, Olga never seemed to recognize it until now.
For one of the first times in her young life, Helga G. Pataki was speechless.
She brought me in her room and told me all about Jordan—you know, the weird kid she's so protective over? She told me this long sob story about his crappy life and, I'll admit, it sounds less than FUN to say the least, but she had ulterior motives in telling me.
"Until I met Jordan," Olga continued while turning to look back into the distant world she had previously been fixated on, "I don't think I understood what that loneliness looked like. It was so easy to convince myself that I was the kind of big sister who was available to you when you needed somebody most. But when I began encouraging Jordan to stay here—his parents never even noticing his absence—it made me realize that while it was wonderful to give that to this young stranger, I had never done that for you… for my own sister."
Seeing this kid's life, I guess, AWAKENED something in Olga. It was like, in seeing this kid's bummer-of-a-life, she realized that there were some similarities between his environment and mine when I was a kid.
Well, even NOW still, I suppose.
"Olga…" Helga tried, though her sister was already talking once more, this time with a familiar tremor in her voice.
And I TRIED to calm her down because I knew that a classic 'Olga Waterworks Show' was about to begin, but she still wept in true Olga Pataki fashion about how she was being this stellar big sister to everyone on the whole planet except for her ACTUAL sister—me.
"I was being… the-the-the sister that you needed to-to… to somebody else." Sniffling, Olga fought back tears that were fighting their way to make a familiar path down her cheeks. "With daddy and-and mommy I-I-I knew that you nee-need-needed me and I had just convinced myself that I was this… this great big sister and I-I-I—"
"Olga, c'mon—"
"I wasn't!" She exclaimed before burying her face in her hands and at long last allowing her sobs to take over her delicate frame.
Unsure of what to do or how to react at her sister's sudden breakdown, Helga merely reached a hand out awkwardly to gently place on the distraught woman's back. "It's… it's okay, Olga. Really. I'm-I'm fine."
It's hard to be annoyed with her after her weepfest. If anything, it was almost… validating? For once in our lives, Olga Pataki admitted how IMperfect she was and how—pardon my French—shitty of a sister she had been to me.
But like… I KNOW she tried her best. What was she supposed to do? Bob has been hot on her tracks to be this perfect superstar daughter her entire life. She didn't know any different. I don't BLAME her always trying to outdo herself on his behalf.
In fact… as much as I hate to admit it… If I were in HER position, I likely would have done the same thing. It's a matter of survival and in the Pataki household, you do what you gotta do to survive.
Which brings me to my NEXT point…
Taking a deep breath, Olga came up from her hands and swallowed hard before saying, "Despite m-me." Shifting her eyes over to Helga's direction, she repeated herself. "You're fine despite me. You've had to be an adult your entire childhood. I could have been this great big sister everyone thinks that I am and… and I wasn't. For that, baby sister, I owe you a million apologies. I can never make up for all of those years, but now that I'm older and now that I am able… I want to-to… to try."
"What do you mean?" Helga asked with slight hesitation while slowly dropping her hand from Olga's back.
"Helga," Olga huffed out her name while physically moving from her spot on the bed to face her younger sister head-on. "Daddy is going to file for divorce."
Divorce.
Big Bob and Miriam are, apparently, getting a DIVORCE.
That's right: D-I-V-O-R-C-E
The words hit like a blow Helga had never anticipated. While parts of her were happy that her unlikely pair she called parents would be splitting their union once and for all, another piece of her was somehow devastated at the end of her life as she knew it.
"Wh…wh-what?" She stuttered out, and Olga reached to take her hand tightly in her own.
I guess I was shocked to say the least when Olga dropped the bomb.
Is it weird though that amid the surprise I was also a little thrilled, too? Thrilled and yet somehow hurt—disappointed even. In one instant all of these emotions and feelings flooded my system and it left me feeling conflicted at best.
Why?
"Our parents are going to be getting divorced soon, Helga," Olga reiterated while giving Helga's hand a small squeeze. "I wanted you to stay here over the Summer because I knew that daddy intended to file in early June. I didn't think it wise for you to be around what would surely transpire between the two of them. Especially given mommy's… coping mechanisms."
All at once Helga was thrust back into the world she had nearly forgotten about—the world prior to Stella's friendship and encouragement away from the smoothies. Softly shutting her eyes, Helga nodded her head at the information she was being fed.
"Right," she muttered under her breath. "Criminy… poor Miriam…"
Maybe I'm sad about it because I know how much it's going to devastate mom. She'd been doing so well without her smoothies, so I guess it was only a matter of time before life threw a wrench in all of her progress.
Then again, maybe it was BECAUSE she quit drinking that they're getting a divorce. Miriam had certainly grown a pair since she began her life of sobriety and maybe Bob was fed up of his wife and her newfound backbone.
It will be nice not to have him and his ornery self around the house. That is assuming Miriam GETS the house and I stay with her… I'm certainly not about to go choosing BOB and his Cellphone Castle for my living arrangement if I have any say in the matter.
Which means that I guess it's back to casa de Pataki featuring Olga.
"Now Helga, I want you to know that when you return home, I will be coming with you," Olga announced which made Helga's eyes open wide in shock. "I will not let you be alone while mommy goes through this terrible, terrible time—"
"But what about your job?" Helga quickly interjected. "Your home? The kids? What about all of them? What will happen to them?"
A sad smile formed on Olga's lips as she offered a shrug of her shoulders. "They will return to their homes, I suppose. At least until I feel like things are under control in Hillwood."
Unbeknownst to Helga, a lone tear trickled its way down her face and Olga was quick to brush it away from reaching the curve of her jawline. "It will be okay, Helga. I know that I allowed you to be alone in so much of your life with mommy and daddy, and it was unfair of me to do that to you—to not be the big sister I needed to be. But I'm not going to do that anymore. I promise you, Helga, that I will be the big sister that you deserve—the one you've always deserved to have."
It might not be so bad, living with Olga again. After our little convo, I feel like maybe she really wants to make an effort at changing how we engage with one another. Might be kind of nice to have an actual sister for once.
Sad as it is to say, I don't know what that will even feel like, having a sister. Should I be excited, or terrified?
Anyway, Olga wasn't all that mad about the computer thing once we talked a little longer. I guess she gets the whole 'teenage privacy' thing, but told me that my 'curfew' is 1am which gives me plenty of time since the twins are usually home by eleven when their mom's shift is over and Jordan is sound asleep on the couch.
But that Marta… her nose is always stuck in a book and I have GOT to figure out her deal. She's the only one I haven't figured out yet…and since I'm here at Olga's for another month and a half, I have PLENTY of time to crack that case.
~Helga
In the weeks that proceeded their in-depth conversation, Olga and Helga's relationship began to take new form. Evolving from resentment and bitterness on Helga's end to that of understanding and mild compassion, the two were learning more about one another with each day that passed. Helga's familiar sarcasm never faltered; however, a new sense of lightheartedness now accompanied the quick wit she had displayed from a young age.
As their relationship transformed, Helga's sense of compassion towards the other guests at the house also shifted. Rather than remain hidden in her room, Helga had started to embrace the fellow kids who hung around the safe environment Olga's home provided. She found that the familiar feeling she once felt when staying at the home of the Shortmans had returned, even if it wasn't exactly the same.
There was a sense of community. A sense of 'found family.' A sense of belonging.
And it didn't hurt that Olga was part of this newfound mix. The level of support that Helga felt from her sister may have begun as a foreign concept, but she soon discovered that her attempts to connect with her were no longer futile—the teenager slowly starting to let her in at the most minute level of connection.
Sure, they weren't jumping headfirst into being joined at the hip close-knit sisters, but it was a start and a welcome start at that.
While Helga adjusted to this new lifestyle she had been thrust into, miles away from Olga's home was the football-headed boy of her dreams. He had been busy with the free time he had acquired from his many friends' departure over the summer vacation. Each day he spent enjoying time with his family only to retreat to his room with the mission that he was determined to complete.
Alas, Arnold Shortman was close to unlocking the last of the indented letters left behind from the entry Helga had never intended to be seen. With assistance from his father, the two had nearly finished decoding the remnants of her seemingly lost message.
Seemingly.
"It looks to me like you pretty well have it," Miles noted as Arnold hunched over the yearbook while squinting his eyes intently at the words he had decoded.
"But I don't," he insisted while tapping a lone finger on a sentence he still didn't feel confident with.
With a heavy sigh, Miles walked to his son's side and peeked over his shoulder at the sentence in question. "I was sad that we broke up," he read aloud, "But more than sad, I was really mad, and it wasn't even at you (though you were a close second)." He paused to let out a slight chuckle and a shake of his head before continuing. "I was mad at myself. After the dance, I thought long and hard about the events leading us to that moment, and it wasn't Lila who put a wedge between us or you not telling me what you were up to that did it. The only thing that stood in the way of our relationship was me—and not just me, but my…" his voice trailed off where the sentence ended, and Arnold frowned with his father as they stared down at the missing words to the entry.
"I'm pretty sure the next part says something about fear… but…" the boy shrugged his shoulders and pulled his eyes away from the yearbook to look up at his father. "What would she be afraid of? Me liking her?"
"Maybe," Miles answered. "Women are complicated beings. And they're a heck of a lot smarter than us too, sometimes. I'm sure that whatever fears Helga had are valid and that she didn't tell them to you for good reason."
"But what if I felt the same way?" Arnold asked instantly. "What if I'm just as afraid of my own feelings and we're both too afraid of our fears to act on the feelings they're hiding?"
Miles breathed out through a small hole of his lips that made his cheeks puff out as he did so. With a WHOOSH, he moved his hands to rest on his hips while he pondered what his son had expressed. "That's some angsty stuff, kiddo. Even for a teenager."
"I'm only thirteen, dad," Arnold deadpanned. "It's not like I'm in High School or anything."
"Ahh, but you will be. And sooner than you think, too." Turning around to begin making his way towards the door to leave Arnold's room, Miles stopped with his hand on the doorknob to turn around and look back at his conflicted son. "If I were you, Arnold, I'd just come out and ask her about the entry. You have enough to argue a pretty good case in my opinion."
Before he could finish, Arnold was already shaking his oblong head. "I just can't, dad. Not until I know what it is she's so afraid of."
"You can't just ask her?"
A small laugh emitted from Arnold just then, and he turned from his father to focus his attention back to the yearbook ahead of him. "You don't know Helga like I do, dad," he said softly. "She wouldn't tell me."
"You really think so?" Miles questioned, but before Arnold could respond, he quickly added, "Because it kind of seems like she did. Even if she ripped the page out before you could read it."
"Which means she didn't!" Arnold exclaimed while keeping his eyes downcast on the lost message.
"No… it means that she's already halfway there." With his final statement out in the open, Miles pulled the door to his son's room open and left the boy to be alone with the yearbook, his thoughts, and his unyielding willpower.
For hours after his curfew, Arnold stayed up to stare at the words left unsaid. Making little progress, his eyes re-read the lead-up over and over again.
The only thing that stood in the way of our relationship was me—and not just me, but my—
The only thing that stood in the way of our relationship was me—and not just me, but my—
but my—
but my—
"But you're what?! What could you possibly be afraid of, Helga?" He asked the open faced book that held little answers to his questions. "You wrote 'I'm just some bully' followed by 'a football-headed dorkwad like you.' How am I supposed to know what any of that means?"
Tossing the book aside in frustration, Arnold slid his computer chair over to face the screen that had since fallen asleep from lack of use. Sliding his finger across the mousepad of the laptop, the computer illuminated to reveal the time.
12:27am.
"I should get to sleep," he muttered to himself, though his finger on the mousepad had different plans.
Without much thought, his body directed him to his FaceNetwork page—he hadn't checked it all day. Even with the use of his new phone, Arnold had yet to become a social networker. The young boy much preferred the real world than the one behind a screen. Even so, curiosity got the better of him and, like he did many days, he found his way to one profile in particular.
Helga's.
As he scrolled through the few updates she had posted since leaving for the summer, his eye caught the green halo surrounding her profile picture. Online? He thought to himself. Granted, Arnold was rarely on at such a late hour, but it seemed as though Helga and he were hardly ever online at the same time.
He wondered if she realized this too and would be escaping the virtual portal any second now.
Yet, as he stared at the green halo for what seemed like the longest of minutes, the hue never disappeared, and something itched inside of him to use the opportunity being presented.
Chewing on his lower lip, he clicked on her name to open up a private chat window. To his surprise, the bubble signaling that she was typing something to him was at the bottom of the screen, and Arnold waited for a moment to see what message she could possibly be typing him. When the chat bubble disappeared at long last, Arnold furrowed his brows and impulsively began typing his own message—but unlike Helga, he intended to send it.
Arnold Shortman: I'm surprised to see you're up so late
Helga stared at the screen with her mouth agape. The words Arnold had sent her bore into her very soul and she quickly hit and held the 'delete' key to erase her most recent feelings dump that she had been working on.
He wasn't supposed to be online.
He was never online. Not at midnight he wasn't.
Helga glanced down to the corner of the computer to see the time—12:29am.
Well, not after midnight either, she thought to herself while stalling with the response she didn't realize Arnold was desperately waiting for.
Placing her fingers on the keyboard, she grazed the keys ahead as though trying to find the proper thing to type back. "What to say, what to say," she muttered to herself. "Criminy! What the hell am I supposed to say?!"
Helga Pataki: Yeah, well the feeling is mutual, football-head
Smirking at her reply, Arnold quickly responded—perhaps too eagerly, he considered, though he found he didn't all that much care.
Arnold Shortman: How has it been living with Olga? Is it as horrible as you thought it would be?
"Going with the niceties tonight, aren't we Arnoldo?" Helga said to the computer while she crafted her response.
Helga Pataki: Oh, you know, it's HORRIBLE but not what I was expecting
Hitting enter to send her message, she soon began typing another to add to her sentiment.
Helga Pataki: Probably a heck of a lot better than whatever boring nonsense you and that giant head of yours are up to with good ol' ma and pop
Arnold laughed as he read her second message though his eyes soon drifted to where the yearbook, he had spent the majority of his summer with lay. He could never tell her what he had actually been up to—the very idea of Helga discovering his obsession with figuring out the entry she disposed of sent a shiver up his spine.
Opting to dance around the true nature of his summer, Arnold decided to shift their conversation towards something more…meaningful.
Arnold Shortman: Have you heard from Phoebe yet? I hear she's back from camp
Rolling her eyes at the words on the screen, Helga smirked while typing her answer.
Helga Pataki: Yeah, she called the other day to tell me how great of a time it was. As if someone could have that much fun at a MATH camp, or wherever it was she went.
Helga Pataki: She mentioned that her and Tall Hair Boy have been talking quite a bit. Guess everyone is getting phones these days. Must be nice.
Arnold read her double-message over a few times to gauge what Helga could possibly be looking for in his response. He himself had received a cellphone so bringing it up would surely press a button that could end their conversation.
It was so touch-and-go with Helga. Arnold was always nervous that he would scare her away like a fish when one taps the glass of a fishbowl.
Despite his hesitation, he tapped anyway.
Arnold Shortman: If it makes you feel any better, I hardly use my phone
Waiting eagerly for some kind of reaction, the bubble displaying Helga's moving fingers never popped up and Arnold immediately knew that he had chosen the wrong thing to say. With the hope that he could salvage this, he typed a new message as fast as he could and hit enter.
Arnold Shortman: At least there are computers almost everywhere now
Helga laughed outright at the attempt Arnold had made to diffuse what he saw to be a volatile situation. With a sly grin on her lips, Helga took her turn to reply.
Helga Pataki: Oh, don't feel sorry for me, Hair Boy. Olga claims she is going to find a way to get me one of them fancy rectangles
Chuckling at her sarcasm which appeared to still be intact, a sense of relief washed over Arnold once he knew that Helga wasn't ready to run away from their messaging just yet.
Arnold Shortman: Oh really? Things must be going good between the two of you then, huh?
Helga Pataki: Good enough
Helga stared at the words she'd sent while struggling to bring herself to admit how much their relationship had changed for the better in their short time together. Her mind wandered to the conversations her and Olga had shared. Soon after, it shifted to the seriousness she knew lay head for them once summer had ended.
There were too many things that Helga longed to tell the boy behind the screen, and yet at the same time, she couldn't allow herself to type them let alone send them to Arnold no matter how badly she wanted to.
Instead, she tried to turn the conversation back towards Arnold; back towards the hometown she had been away from for what felt like ages.
Helga Pataki: So Arnoldo, anything interesting happen since I've been gone? I take it the town hasn't imploded or ceased to exist from my absence
Arnold thought long and hard about everything that had happened since Helga had been away. Aside from his few trips to the botanical gardens with his mother and the occasional walk with Abner, he had spent much of his time in his room decoding a message he wasn't supposed to have.
But he couldn't tell Helga all of that. "There has to be something that's happened…" he whispered to himself as his fingers tapped absentmindedly against the keyboard.
Arnold Shortman: Someone bought that empty duplex across the street from the movie theater
Arnold Shortman: There's a big SOLD sign in the window and a COMING SOON sign in the front yard, so it isn't for someone moving in
Arnold Shortman: Or at least, nobody THINKS anybody is moving into it
As each new message popped up in the window, Helga read it thoroughly with narrowed eyes. Hillwood didn't often expand unless there were new and changing restaurants. She racked her brain momentarily for an idea that she could offer Arnold but came up with little to nothing of value.
Helga Pataki: So, you mean to tell me that there's a 'sold' sign and a 'coming soon' sign, but nothing saying WHAT is coming soon? It just says, "COMING SOON"
Helga Pataki: Seriously, Arnold
Thought the bubble on the screen told him that Helga was still typing yet another message, Arnold beat her to the punch by sending her one of his own.
Arnold Shortman: There's a logo on it
Arnold Shortman: On the coming soon sign
Arnold Shortman: It just says 'Venus' in this weird, green font… kind of like a plant
Arnold Shortman: A plant shop, maybe?
Helga deleted the words she'd been typing as message after message popped up on her screen. She assumed that Arnold was typing as he was thinking—the only explanation for his sporadic messages. Once she was sure he had finished with his bursts of information, Helga typed out a short retort.
Helga Pataki: Right. A plant shop named 'Venus.' Next, you'll tell me that they specialize in Venus Fly Traps. Good one, football-head
Unsure of what to say next, Arnold waited to see if Helga had anything else that she might add in terms of theories. Unfortunately for him, she had no more ideas than anyone else he had talked to about the mysterious duplex.
Helga Pataki: So that's it, then? Someone bought an old decrepit house? Criminy, I'd have thought something better than THAT would have happened over the summer.
Helga Pataki: Guess that's Hillwood, for you
Glancing out the window just above his desk, he looked out at the dark world which lay beyond. Lights twinkled in the distance at the city still half-awake despite the late hour. As his eyes settled down, he focused on a bright light in the window just across the street from his room at Sunset Arms.
Arnold Shortman: Someone moved in across the street from me
Arnold Shortman: A family, it looks like
Intrigued by this sudden piece of new information, Helga fed into the bait she was given.
Helga Pataki: Anyone our age?
Arnold thought of the girl he'd met when his parents dragged him over to welcome them to the neighborhood. It had been a gesture of kindness, they told him—a testament to the old way of doing things, though they didn't present them with an apple pie by any means.
What was her name again? Sadie? Abby?
Arnold Shortman: A girl our age. I think she has a younger brother about Timberly's age.
Arnold Shortman: They were busy unpacking so it isn't like we talked all that much and I haven't seen them around the neighborhood
Helga's teeth clenched at the thought of the new girl soon to be added to their mix at Hanson Middle School. Seventh grade had been tough enough with out some new girl wedging herself in the middle of everything.
Despite her sudden jealously, Helga tried to talk herself down. "It's alright, Helga ol' girl. You don't even know who this chick is let alone if she's someone to be worried about." She read Arnold's message again before giving herself confident nod. "If you're ever going to get Arnold back, you have to prove that you're different—that you've changed. You have to show that football-headed dweeb that Helga G. Pataki isn't some envious freakazoid ready to pounce… you gotta show him that things are different. That you're different."
Setting her fingers back in place on the keyboard, she then asked herself, "But how?"
Helga Pataki: Well I'm sure she'll fit in with the rest of us just fine if YOU have anything to do about it
Helga Pataki: Although, I bet you'll have to fight the Queen B for her
Arnold scrunched his brow into a hard line of confusion at Helga's statement.
Arnold Shortman: What do you mean? Why would Rhonda care?
With an audible groan, Helga explained herself.
Helga Pataki: BECAUSE you ding-dong, popular girls ALWAYS go after the new kids
Helga Pataki: They're the easiest to corrupt
Frowning at Helga's cynicism, Arnold soon took note of the time that displayed itself at the corner of his screen. It was nearing 1 o'clock and though he was tired, part of him wanted to address the question that had been itching inside of him since the last day of school.
"Maybe dad's right," he told himself as he considered what to type to Helga next. "Maybe I do have enough to go off of to confront Helga with." Reaching out to grab the yearbook that remained open beside him, he stared down at what he had deciphered so far. "She obviously wanted to tell me about this… and if she wanted to tell me, then maybe she still does. Maybe she still will…"
Setting the book down to rest atop his computer desk, Arnold replaced his fingers on the keys to begin typing the question that had kept him awake each night since that last day of seventh grade.
"Helga," he spoke aloud as he typed, "What you wrote me in my yearbook," he paused to read the words over a few times before mustering the courage to continue. "It isn't what you had originally—"
PING
PING PING
The messenger tone alerted Arnold to look up at the dialogue box he'd been sharing with Helga to see that she had sent him three new messages in rapid succession.
Helga Pataki: Oh cripes, it's almost 1
Helga Pataki: Olga has me on this stupid curfew here, so I gotta go
Helga Pataki: talk to you later I guess
Under her final message, Arnold read the automated words that stared solemnly back at him.
Helga Pataki has logged off
With a heavy sigh, Arnold tapped the 'delete' key to erase the sentence he had been typing as his nerves relaxed themselves and the adrenaline that he had built-up slowly began leaving his body. Even though he knew that she was no longer there, Arnold typed and sent a final message to the blond girl he had hoped might give him the answers he had been searching for all summer long.
Arnold Shortman: Have a good night, Helga. Talk soon
Well journal, tomorrow's the day we've been waiting for.
Tomorrow, we go back to Hillwood. And by WE, I mean you, me, and little miss Olga who seems to be pretty bent out of shape about leaving the life she's made in the big city behind.
I feel kind of bad for her, actually. She has a legit family here—one that's a hell of a lot better than the one she's 'going home' to. Especially with the inevitable divorce on the horizon… I'd be pretty bummed about leaving this happy little world, too.
The kids are going to miss her, that's for sure. Especially Jordan… ever since she told me about the life he leads, I can't help but feel for the poor guy. I ACTUALLY know how he feels—well, SORT OF, anyway. I hope that he does okay while Olga's gone… that he manages to find self-worth in himself despite his horrible surroundings.
If I could do it, there's no doubt in my mind that he can. And he's WAY more positive than I'll EVER be, so at least he's got THAT going for him.
In other news, the changes don't stop for one Helga G. Pataki—I managed to convince Olga to let me dye my hair pink.
Well… she let me dye a STREAK of my hair pink.
Of course, when I asked her initially, her immediate response was a big fat NO. But this last week, I upped my game and didn't stop with my pursuit. In the end, it came down to letting me dye my hair or letting me get my nose pierced and, needless to say, Olga opted for the 'lesser of two evils.'
She said, and I quote: "In the interest of giving you an outlet to express yourself in, baby sister, I'll let you do it but JUST THIS ONCE."
Yeah. Okay, OLGA.
I look freakin' badass with my pink streak. And for HER information, I have NO INTENTIONS of going back to boring old blond hair AGAIN.
I'm sure you noticed the print-outs of the latest conversation I had with Arnold the other day. Granted, I had to log-off so make that lame curfew Olga gave me, but it certainly didn't stop me from printing out our convo and promptly taping it in this here journal. He talked to me FIRST. In the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, mind you.
That means he was THINKING of me.
Or he was bored.
But he was THINKING of me—of Helga G. Pataki.
There may be hope for us yet, Journal! Guess I'll find out when we get back to Hillwood.
Until then,
~Helga
The ride back to Hillwood felt considerably shorter than their trek at the beginning of the Summer. What seemed like a mere week ago had been nearly two months, and as the start of 8th grade approached for Helga, with it came a new batch of changes she was utterly unprepared for.
"Are you excited to sleep in your own bed again?" Olga asked as they drove down the familiar street of the Pataki's neighborhood. "I'm sure it will be nice to get away from Jamal and Raul's constant pranks."
A small smirk crossed Helga's lips as she remembered the twins and their tomfoolery that always made Olga so angry and Helga laugh so hard. "Nah," she uttered with a fond smile. "I'll miss those two heathens and their shenanigans. As much as I hate to say it, Olga… you have quite the setup back there."
"You really think so?"
"Like I said, I hate that I'm even saying it out loud, but…yeah. I almost wish I didn't have to leave." Helga's blue eyes danced over to look out the passenger side window to the homes she recognized as they passed by in rapid succession. She knew that they were only minutes away—just a matter of seconds before she was stuck at home again with all the problems that she felt she had escaped if only for one summer.
"You won't be alone though, baby sister," Olga encouraged as she pulled the car up to the curb outside the Pataki home. Pulling the car's gear into park, Olga rested her hands in her lap and turned to face Helga directly. "Although… I'm afraid it won't be quite as soon as I had initially promised you."
Disappointment mixed with anger washed over Helga as the news hit her like a slap in the face. "I knew it," she spat out in an acid tone. "I knew you were going to bail on me. Just like you always do. Just like everyone does." Shaking her head angrily, Helga began to haphazardly gather her things from the car while continuing on her tirade.
"You know, Olga, you almost had me fooled. You had me believing that, that… that you'd changed—"
"Helga…"
"No!" She stopped her sister with a lone hand that she held up in front of her face like a stop sign. "I foolishly let myself believe that you were there for me and that you cared about being a good big sister. But you know what? Shame on me!"
"Helga! Helga, please—"
"To think that I am so pathetic to try and grab on to—"
"HELGA!" Olga practically shouted, and the volume of her voice halted Helga mid-sentence to glare in her older sister's direction.
"What" she stated through clenched teeth.
"I am coming back, Helga," Olga said in a soothing voice. "I promise you that I will be back within your first week of school."
"But that's like… two weeks away."
"I know," Olga confirmed with a sad smile. "But I have things that I need to take care of before I can leave. I have to give my job notice… I want to make sure that the kids… that they have arrangements made once I'm no longer there to look out for them." She paused briefly to let her words soak into Helga's consciousness. "You do understand… don't you?"
"And if Bob drops the bomb before you get here? You said he was gonna do it in June and he still hasn't told her." Helga demanded. "Just what am I supposed to do when he shows her the papers and Miriam plunges herself into a drunken stupor? What happens when I have to miss school to make sure she doesn't drown herself in her sorrows?"
Turning away, Olga reached for her purse and began digging around in the large sack before pulling out an object to present to Helga. "Then you call me, and I'll be here as soon as I possibly can."
Taking the phone from her hand, Helga looked over the brand-new cellphone—complete with a screen protector and pink protective case. "You really did it, didn't you?" Helga marveled while turning the phone over in her hand. "You convinced Bob to get me a phone."
"Of course not," Olga said with a wicked grin. "I broke my contract and went somewhere else… and then I added you onto my plan. This way… you'll never have to worry about not having a way to contact me—or anyone else—ever again."
A genuine smile took over Helga's face as she nodded her head gratefully. "Thanks, Olga. Really."
"Now, you'll have to put your own contacts in there—all your little friends like Phoebe and… Arnold…" his name came off of her tongue like a song and a deep red colored in Helga's cheeks as the melody hit her ears.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know how to operate a phone, Olga, alright?" The words stumbled out of her mouth in a frenzy as she tried to think of a snarky retort that she could offer her nosy sister. "Like I need some football-head clogging up my contacts list."
Despite her contempt, Olga knew her sister better than her words proclaimed, and she nodded her head though a hopeful twinkle remained in her eye. "Of course, you do. Oh! And one more thing before you go—" once again she dug around in the large bag that she carried before pulling out a leather-bound book that closely resembled that of the journal Miles had given her for Christmas years ago.
"I noticed that your little diar—er—journal was starting to run out of pages—"
"You read my journal?!" Helga shouted, though Olga quickly diffused her sister's assumption.
"No… I noticed you writing in it last night and saw that you're reaching the end. I thought that you might want another one ready to go when the time is right." Outstretching her arm, she handed Helga the notebook before moving her hand to squeeze her sister's shoulder. "Now, unless I'm mistaken, you should be all set until I come back in a couple weeks."
"And you will come back?" Helga asked with a slight waver in her voice—a waver that signaled both her hope and fear rolled into one.
It was a question that told Olga things had changed between them. And while there was still significant work to be done in their relationship as sisters, she knew that there was a great chance that the best was yet to come for the pair.
"I promise," she told her firmly. "Now, go on and show off your new phone! I'm sure Phoebe can't wait to see you… and Arnold—"
"Hey, hey," Helga interjected while opening the car door to emerge into the sunlight of the warm Hillwood day. "Just because you bought me a phone, and a new journal doesn't mean that we're best buddies yet, alright?"
A small chuckle emitted from Olga as she nodded her head in understanding. "But one day, right?"
"Eh," her sister replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders. "We'll see."
With that, she shut the door and waved Olga off as she drove into the distance to leave Helga alone on the sidewalk outside of her house. Pulling her suitcase to rest beside her, she took a seat on the stoop of her childhood and turned on the new phone that Olga had graciously given to her.
It was a nice phone—one of the newest models that Helga was aware of. Surely Rhonda would have a fancier phone, but for Helga… this would do just fine.
As she navigated through the screens and spent time customizing her phone while enjoying the sunshine and fresh air, she signed up for the latest in social media accounts that she had yet to have, given her lack of cellphone.
Once she had made her account, she reached the camera screen and took a quick snapshot of her face with a lackluster expression and a peace sign held up in the frame. Satisfied with the picture, she tapped away a caption and posted it before turning off the screen and sliding the phone effortlessly into her pocket.
As Helga made her way into the house and greeted Miriam who was occupied in the kitchen, a buzzing in her pocket alerted her that a notification had come in—her very first.
little_blue_hat has followed you!
Arnold made his way to Helga's new CamGram profile and tapped on the lone picture she had uploaded only minutes ago. Smiling to himself, he double tapped the image to give it a 'like' while reading the caption:
locketsandbows_96: New phone, who dis?
The familiar fast beating of her heart resounded in her chest as she looked at her second notification staring back at her. "He liked my picture," she murmured to herself before turning the screen black and replacing the phone back into her pocket. "Would you look at that."
After a summer away and for the first time in what felt like ages, Helga had a new sense of hope—a hope that whatever the 8th grade had in store for her… might not be so bad after all.
IMPORTANT A/N: PLEASE READ!
Hello everyone! First of all, I want to apologize for not posting on the 17th as I had planned. I appreciate all of the love, support, and excitement surrounding this story and its updates. Your kindness, understanding, and enthusiasm is something I am blessed to receive with the large following of my fic. I am touched that you care enough to worry about my well-being and I thank you for your kind words. Aside from stressed, I assure you all that I am perfectly fine (for the time being, anyway)
With that being said, I also want to address the few uncool messages I've received regarding my lack of update. While I feel that I do not owe anybody an explanation about the personal reasons why I am unable to update "on time," I will do so this once.
Since late September, I have
-Contracted and recovered from COVID
-Dealt with residual stomach issues from my recent surgery
-Had to change my wedding (this Halloween) at least a million times
-Deal with personal family issues
-Juggle my job and find time for my partner
-My car window got smashed so I had to struggle to find a way to pay for THAT
Life has gotten in the way of my plans and unfortunately this story had to backslide so I could function in society. Coming up, I will continue to be busy—so please be understanding of this. I'm sorry if sometimes I am unable to update as planned. I want to deliver you high-quality chapters, but if I feel they are not up to par or ready to be published, trust that they will be as soon as they are ready. Believe it or not—as much as YOU want me to update, so do I…even more so, in fact.
I have updated my dates for posting, so check that out as my pinned tweet on twitter. The next date that I will be posting will be on SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 21st at around 5pm CT. But remember, these dates are SUBJECT TO CHANGE. If something comes up, please follow the hashtag #HelgaUnbound as I post updates regularly via my Twitter and Tumblr with that hashtag. My username is 'Polkahotness' on all social media.
Now that I am done with my schpeel, I thank you so much for your support, reviews, and love for this story. I have GREAT things planned and feel that this fic is headed in a wonderful direction. Thank you for your continued interest and please be sure to leave me a review as I want so badly to know what you thought of this chapter! I hope it was well worth the wait.
Next update is scheduled for SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 21st, so unless otherwise specified, I shall see you all then! xo