Author's Notes (A/N): Hello again! Here's chapter 3 of the story. Thanks for the reviews! If it seemed that the story isn't going anywhere, well here's where the story's finally going somewhere. This is still from Helga's POV. One thing to note, though. This is a drama/romance fic. From here on, if you don't have tissues close to you, I say it's time to start getting hold of some. Please tell me what you think about this one, okay?

Disclaimer: I still don't own HA. Period.

- tst : )

Chapter 3: The Going Gets Tough

Okay, so it was the day before the test. It's strange because throughout this day, Arnold's still as down as ever. I don't know if it was because of his grandparents being away, or because of Lila dumping him again, or because of the football game yesterday.

After class, I was hiding behind a corner. From there I see the entire grassy playground and from here I gazed at Arnold among those students on the playground. Nearby, close to where I was, I saw someone weeping and sitting down on one of the playground benches. It was a 4th grader wallowing in his sadness and I could hear his sobs. Inside me, I really felt pity for the boy but I was suddenly relieved when my beloved Arnold, saw the boy too. He came to the 4th grader and he sat with him. I listened secretly and intently on their conversation. Seems like another of those people needing some good 'ol "Arnold"-ish advice. Arnold nodded at everything the boy said and Arnold comforted him. I know Arnold and I have to study for tomorrow, but no! Arnold, being a nice guy that he was, even when he's not in a good mood right now, and even if he had to study at home, he still took the time and gave him some advice.

Though I saw both of them talking, I left for home. I've got to study myself too, you know? I'm sure everything will go well. Arnold… sigh!

The next day, morning, at that same bench, I saw Arnold as he sat with the 4th grader guy that he gave advice to yesterday.

But, boy! This 4th grader just bowed down and cried louder than he did yesterday.

"I'm really, really sorry!" Arnold pleaded, trying to give him some comfort. Huh? What happened here?

"Sorry?" the 4th grader shrugged, as if trying to scold Arnold, "How could you? You gave me advice that just made my problems get worse!" The 4th grader then looked back at the ground, sobbing pretty hard.

"But, I tried to do my best. I really did!" Arnold apologized but now with some tears beginning to form in his very own eyes. Arnold wiped those tears and he snapped back into his optimism mode. Arnold tries to cheer the 4th grader up, "Maybe things would be better the next day." Ah yes! The usual optimistic tone of my beloved is here, no matter what.

But instead of being reassured, this 4th grader suddenly stood up still furious as ever, "Some advice! I don't really know, but I'm sure not going to ask advice from you, Arnold, EVER AGAIN!" The 4th grader turned around and headed off, away from Arnold.

Arnold then stood and followed him, "But… Wait up!"

What the… That's got to be a first. Arnold usually gives the right advice to everyone. Hmm. now I think those professional guidance counselors are right when they said, that if someone has a problem, don't always give advice. Sometimes it's better to help the person solve his or her problems, rather than give advice yourself. Sometimes, it's a good idea to let them realize the solution on their own even if you think you know it already.

I think now I know why. Even Arnold could make a mistake, too.

Poor Arnold! I mean that experience really made Arnold sunk to a new low. I don't know whether he really studied or not, or is just sad about the "advice" thing. It's because during the test, I saw him not glancing at his paper for a long, long time. Is my beloved sick or something? He might not pass this test if he keeps up with this.

And sure enough, Mr. Simmons checked our papers and on Monday, the week after, he announced that Arnold got an F.

Then after class, the gang then played baseball, but I never saw Arnold with us.

"Hey Gerald, where's Arnold?" asked my best friend, during baseball.

"He said he's not feeling well and wanted to take the rest of the day off, Phoebe."

"Perhaps he's already studying for this week's test this time. He's probably trying to make up for the previous one."

"Maybe, Phoebe."

Maybe, indeed. But I'm now getting a bit worried about my angel. I'm sure something's wrong with him. The next day, I saw him in class still sad. He looked a bit worse than the last few days. He rarely smiled that day.

During the day, he gave another advice to another 4th grader during morning recess. In the afternoon, that 4th grader took his advice and like the other guy, this 4th grader wasn't any happier. He was miserable.

It seems that Arnold's beginning to lose his touch. He seemed a bit more down than ever. I can see it in his sullen face. I can see it in his weeping eyes. Now I'm getting really worried about my love.

Surely, telling my feelings for him now would really be a big mistake.

During our 2nd test, I saw Arnold. His eyes seemed far off into space most of the time. He mindlessly stared at the blackboard as if the answers were all written there. I had this urge to write down the answers on the blackboard for him. If only that was legal. Oh, crimity! Arnold, please. Will you stop daydreaming and start answering? Didn't you study the night before? You wouldn't pass this test too if you continue to do this…

And sure enough, my beloved got another F when it was announced in class a couple of days later.

I caught a glimpse of Mr. Simmons talking to Arnold after class on the day Arnold got another F. He told Arnold that he wrote a failing report letter for Arnold's grandparents.

"I know that these are hard times, Arnold." said Mr. Simmons handing him the failing report letter, "But, you have to ask for their 'special' help."

"Well, okay," he said as he took the letter, with a sad look on his face.

"I hope that your grandpa gets well," he wished.

"Thanks, Mr. Simmons. I really hope so," he says still keeping that sad look.

"Well, see you, Arnold."

"Yeah. See you then!"

After Arnold marched out of the classroom, I secretly followed him.

He marched in very slow strides at the school hallway as he read the report letter. I kept a close watch on him, moving as silent as I can, hiding at the nearest possible corner as he moved on. His head is so close to the letter that it looks like he's reading that letter intently, word for word.

After sometime, he stopped at a corner. He puts the letter away but still held it. He stared at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and weakly sighed. I heard some sniffles from him as he rubbed his eyes a few times. He slid the letter into his pocket and then he walked back to his daily and usual normal pace. He then met Gerald outside the school smiling a bit and they made their secret handshake.

As they climbed up the school bus, I climbed up the bus too and followed them inside. After they sat down on one of the 2-seaters, I secretly sat on the seat behind them. I was relieved that no one was on that seat behind them. I leaned my head at the backrest of their 2-seater and I could overhear them talking. They talked about things, school and everything.

But later in their conversation, I made a surprising discovery.

"You WHAT?" Gerald gasped.

"I said, that I just don't feel like sending this letter to grandpa and grandma. It might make them more worried than they are now."

"But man! I'm sure they can help you somehow until your scores get better."

"It's okay, Gerald," he assures his friend, "I think I can get by this. I think that I was just probably distracted for the last two weeks since they left. Maybe this week everything will get better..."

"Okay, whatever you say, Arnold!"

I hoped too that Arnold would indeed get by better and everything would be back. Back to his cheerful, normal self. Back to his youthful, carefree idealism.

As the next week continued, I kept a secret yet close watch on him. I would secretly shed some tears every time I saw something bad would happen to him that week.

I'm sad to say that I DID shed a lot of tears that week. Why? It's because my beloved was in an endless stream of problems. That week, he faced one problem after another and he didn't get by with a smile. I mean it! I really mean it! He would smile briefly at times but when a new problem gets in his way, he lost any last ounce of cheerfulness that he still had.

During the week, Arnold had been dumped by a few more of his crushes.

He also tried to help someone else but that someone got into more trouble instead. He also became angrier towards my beloved.

Arnold brought a weeklong project with him. He said he really worked hard to do it. But then, along the way coming to school, he somehow tripped himself up and his project got broken. He got neither credit nor excuse for that.

And finally, to top it all off, he failed another test. Crimity! 3 F's in a row! I thought that he would pass this time. He NEVER got 3 F's in a row that's for sure! Why, my beloved?

That Friday, I stayed outside of the classroom, just by the doorway, after class. Inside the classroom, I peeped inside and saw Mr. Simmons talking to Arnold.

"Arnold, I know that you are very special like everyone else in class," he said while he holds Arnold's test paper, "But you still didn't... well... succeed in the last test again. Didn't you study?"

"Yes I did," he replied immediately, purposely grabbing his test paper and placing it in his stuff as fast as he could.

Mr. Simmons scratched his head, "Well did you studied harder?"

Arnold answers with a somewhat sad sigh, "Yeah!"

Mr. Simmons paused. Trying to think of a different approach it seems. Come on! Ask Arnold about the letter…

"About that letter I gave, what did your grandparents say about it?"

Yes! He asked Arnold! Now I'll know what's bothering my beloved all this time.

I listened intently at what Arnold would say, but as he heard those words from Mr. Simmons and as those words dwelt on him, Arnold seemed quiet all of a sudden.

Then, I saw Arnold beginning to sweat a bit. He quickly dried them as he displayed a sullen look. He held his hands together in front of him like a kindergartner would. He suddenly stared at the ceiling. Hmm, that's strange. He's usually never this tense when talking to Mr. Simmons. What's wrong, Arnold my love? Why are you so uneasy this time?

My beloved took a deep breath and then he looked directly towards the floor, "Well, I... I... mailed it to them and they said that it's okay. Grandma said that I should just be calm and study harder. I should just add a few hours every night even on weekends so I could study more."

Mr. Simmons was pleased upon hearing this, "That's the spirit, Arnold! I know it's tough times but I am sure you can do it. I'll check on you next week, okay?"

"Okay!" Arnold seemed to weave out a strange smile. Arnold then went out of the classroom holding the test paper and ran as fast as he could. It was fortunate that we never bumped by the doorway. I tried to follow him, but this time, he ran so fast that I wasn't able to follow him.

That night, I was in bed thinking of what Arnold said to Mr. Simmons. I grabbed a pillow, I leaned on it, and I started to think about what happened.

Wait a minute! I thought Arnold told Gerald before that he wasn't going to mail it? I could have sworn I heard that. But now he said that he wasn't going to mail it? That's strange. He wouldn't kid Gerald. Gerald's his best friend. Besides, Arnold's a pretty serious guy so…

Gulp!

No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't be…

No!

But… is it possible? I shook my head clearing my thoughts. I tried every possible angle to this, but I realized that there's no other way. There's no other logical explanation. But is it REALLY possible?

I mean, don't tell me that he wouldn't have actually… lied to Mr. Simmons, would he?

Nah! I shrugged it off. My beloved would never do that. Hmm, maybe he changed his mind later and mailed it anyway? Besides, Arnold wouldn't lie to anyone. He's always truthful towards everyone… to Gerald, and even to me.

I rested my head hard and deep on my pillow. I kept thinking and thinking about Arnold. What? Arnold would do something like that? He wouldn't do that… but would he? He's the nicest guy in the world… and yet, I felt uncomfortable thinking about him ever doing something like that.

THAT thought made me hardly sleep in bed that night.

Author's Notes: How was it? Is it okay? Too sad? Too depressing? Too bad? Too boring? What do you guys think? Any comments or flames are absolutely welcome. Thanks.

- tst : )