Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well and staying safe and healthy. Hope everyone enjoyed the last chapter. I'm really trying to give everyone the feeling that Arnold and Helga want to take things slow and pursue things properly, but how much they're struggling to not further complicate basically everything. So hopefully I'm doing a decent job of that and they don't just look like two teenagers who can't sort their shit out (though, there is an element of that, but that's not all it is lol). Also I realized I forgot to add a sexual content warning to the last chapter...but this is an M-rated story so idk might be unnecessary lmao. Alright enough from me, enjoy the chapter - which will be a more Arnold-centric POV! Warning: heavy sexual content and drug activity ahead. Possible TW regarding abuse. All cast and characters of Hey Arnold! belong to creator Craig Bartlett.
Chapter 7: Release
"I'm not interrupting something am I?" Sid asked, eyeing Helga's disheveled hair and watching Arnold cinch his belt.
"Gee whatever gave you that impression," Helga responded sarcastically.
Sid laughed, "I knew it! You guys are crazy, fuckin' around in the dirt like a couple of animals!"
"Sid are these friends of yours?" The girl asked innocently. Helga recalled seeing her chatting with Sid earlier in the night by the fire.
"Yeah, yeah sure," he replied, waving her away in disregard. "Damn you guys should've seen the look on your faces. Fucking priceless I wish I had a camera."
"I'm sure you do, you fucking freak," Helga muttered. Sid continued sneering, but his eyes narrowed at her words.
"Christ Pataki, learn to take a fuckin' joke. Arnold you really got your hands full with this one. Or maybe she's got her hands full with you. Hard to say," he said mockingly. Helga was growing increasingly impatient with these games Sid was playing.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Helga hissed. Arnold put a hand on her shoulder, he could tell she had just about enough of their classmate's unfiltered comments. Truthfully the things coming out of Sid's mouth made his blood boil, but he couldn't afford to make another transgression against him. Not yet, anyway.
Arnold glared at Sid in warning. Don't you dare say a fucking word about that stuff, you little snake.
"Nothing, nothing. Just messin' around. I'm tellin' ya, you really need to lighten up. Not everything needs to be so fuckin' dramatic," he said in annoyance.
"Sid, why don't you take - you're Brooke right?" Arnold asked the girl, who nodded in reply. "Why don't you take Brooke along and get to doing whatever it is you're trying to do?"
Helga couldn't help but notice the cadence of warning in Arnold's words. Despite the formulation of his sentence as a question, he wasn't offering a suggestion. He was giving a command. Sid chuckled at Arnold and shrugged, casually brushing off the tense exchange. Helga had to wonder if the message behind Arnold's words were clear to him or not, or if he was just playing along. The more she was around him the more he creeped her out. She couldn't help but feel a little impressed by her wide headed companion, was Sid scared of Arnold?
"Yeah sure man. C'mon babe let's get going, this joint isn't going to smoke itself. Pataki, I'll see you in class on Monday," he called out as he turned to walk away.
"Asshole," Helga mumbled. She turned to see Arnold giving her a curious look. "What?"
"You and Sid have a class together?"
"Unfortunately," she responded as she ran her fingers through her long locks of hair and attempted to reaffix her ponytail.
"Okay, which one?"
"Gym class," she answered simply.
"Is he, like normal in that class?"
"Is Sid ever normal?" She replied.
"Point taken. But I mean, has he been giving you any trouble or anything like that?" Arnold asked. He didn't have a great feeling about this since, for whatever reason, Sid seemed to really enjoy messing with Helga. It honestly confused him, the two of them were always friends when they were younger. Why was he being such a prick all of a sudden?
Helga was struggling to answer the question. She didn't want to lie to Arnold, but she also didn't need him losing his shit like the last time. She hadn't even given Phoebe the full story of the annoying things Sid had said to her, but at this point she was fairly confident she could handle him on her own. And she didn't exactly relish the idea of ruining whatever shred of friendship the two boys had left after Arnold clocked him in the nose.
"N-no, we don't talk," she said finally. She felt shitty about not fully disclosing the truth but she wasn't exactly totally lying, either. It just depended on your perception of what "giving trouble" might entail. It's not like he was trying to kill her or anything.
"Well I'm glad to hear that. Sid isn't all bad but I don't like this weird bullshit he keeps trying to pull whenever you're around. You'll tell me if anything happens, right?" Arnold had his hands on both Helga's shoulders and his eyes were piercing right through hers.
"Fine, whatever. You know I can handle a little weasel like Sid on my own though, right?"
"Trust me, I know very well that you could knock him into next week. But Sid fights dirty Helga, and I don't mean physically. I don't want to freak you out and if he's left you alone so far he probably won't bother you now. Just...be aware okay?" He said seriously.
"Uh yeah, sure. I'll be careful I guess," Helga answered. He fights dirty? she wondered, What does that mean? How "dirty", exactly?
"C'mon, let's get back to the party. It's already a quarter past eleven, we don't have a lot of time left," he said with a smile and offered his hand to her. She grabbed the blankets up off the ground and took his outstretched hand in hers, and together they walked back towards the distant orange glow.
When they got back, they could see Phoebe, Rhonda and Gerald all standing around the fire together, drinking and laughing gleefully (sans Gerald who was their sober ride home). Rhonda saw the two blondes approaching first and made something of a suggestive whooping sound as they stepped out of the darkness of the woods.
"Can it, Lloyd," Helga said with a smile and playfully punched her shoulder.
"Helga, where did you two run off to?" Phoebe inquired innocently.
"Yeah Shortman, where did you two run off to? We're all dying to know," Gerald quipped.
"Uh, nowhere special," Arnold answered. "Just needed a breath of fresh air."
"Dude what? We're outside," Gerald retorted, causing a blush to spread across the cheeks of Helga and Arnold.
Thankfully, a drunken Rhonda Lloyd came to the rescue. "Who cares? Let em fuckin' make out or whatever. Helga, Phoebe, help hold my legs so I can do another keg stand!"
"Aye-aye, Princess," Helga said before discreetly whispering to Arnold, "Good luck."
The three girls disappeared and Gerald turned on his heel to face Arnold. "Okay man, spill it. What the hell did you two do?"
"N-nothing we just went for a wal-"
"Drop it dude, I know you're lying. For fuck's sakes ya got twigs and shit in your hair," Gerald pulled a small piece of wood from Arnold's golden locks as he spoke, which only further validated his suspicions.
"Alright," Arnold hissed. "We might have been...messing around a little."
"Goddamn Arnold that was like the number one rule for tonight. No gettin' frisky. You know how mad Phoebe's gonna be at me when she finds out?"
"O-okay, I get it. But it wasn't me who started it, honest!"
"Damn I shoulda seen this coming. That Pataki is a hellcat if I've ever seen one. Okay fine, so we missed the mark on that one. You said the lines though, right?" Gerald asked.
"Uh, well no. I couldn't remember them, to be honest," Arnold answered earnestly.
Gerald sighed and shook his head, "Man why do I even try with you? Alright look, we're running out of time but there is still a chance for redemption. You made sure to compliment her and all that, right?"
"Of course! I didn't need you to tell me to do that. I even got her water and shit," Arnold said smugly. "That was gentlemanly as fuck!"
Gerald laughed and clapped a hand on Arnold's shoulder. "Alright, seems like tonight wasn't a total waste, then. But I'm tellin' ya, ya gotta say the lines."
"I-I dunno Gerald. I feel like things are going pretty well and that might-"
"Nah man I'm tellin' ya. Chicks dig the lines. How d'you think I've kept Phoebe on lock all these years. Trust me on this one."
"Okay but remember in fourth grade when you told me to say all that stuff to Miss Felter and I looked like a giant dumb ass? This is kinda starting to feel like that," Arnold said sheepishly.
"Oh c'mon this is nothing like that! We were nine years old then! I promise, she's gonna lose her mind when you start saying those words," Gerald replied in confidence.
Arnold still wasn't convinced, but his friend made a good point. Him and Phoebe had been together practically forever now, surely he had learned some tricks along the way. If anything, this could really seal the deal. Worst case scenario he fails miserably and embarrasses the shit out of himself. He had gotten pretty used to the latter by now. Regardless of the outcome, he had a feeling his day-to-day shenanigans may have more of a negative impact than the stupid pick up lines Gerald made him rehearse for the night, anyway.
He walked up behind the blonde, having had the keg stand holding duty passed off on Patty who laughed as Rhonda tried to drink, sputtering beer all over the ground beneath her. Helga's weight was shifted onto one leg, showing off her curvaceous figure and her ponytail still slightly mangled from their impromptu romp in the woods. He wondered if she realized how lovely she looked just like this, how great her ass looked in those pants. Probably not. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"Y-you know, there isn't a word in the dictionary to describe how beautiful you are," he said softly into her ear.
"What? Criminy, are you drunk or something?"
"Uhh," he thought about what Gerald told him, always have a backup line in case the first one doesn't work her over. "T-tell me, what does it feel like to be the most gorgeous girl here?"
Helga burst out laughing and turned to look at a red-faced Arnold.
"Please tell me you're messing with me, what the fuck are you even talking about?" She said, doubling over and resting her hands on her knees as she continued laughing.
"Y-yeah of course. I'm just messing with you," Arnold said and shot a dirty look to Gerald who just shrugged his shoulders.
"Y'almost sounded like Gerald for a minute there. Holy shit, that was hilarious Football Head. Hey you wanna hold me?"
"Just tell me where," He answered playfully before realizing he didn't understand the context of the question. "Uh wait, for what exactly?"
"Oh my god, you're hopeless," she said with a chuckle. "For a keg stand! I trust you more than that lush Lloyd or tiny ass Phoebe. And I think Patty's about tapped out. I'll give you our hand signal when I'm ready to stop."
He nodded, though didn't quite know what "their" hand signal was. She approached the keg, getting a good grip on either side and gave him the go-ahead to raise her up. He had flipped her up by her ankles but had to readjust his hands to hold her by the thighs when she was fully inverted. Her shirt fell down around her shoulders, exposing her torso. She didn't seem to notice or care, and when he looked down he could see her large breasts cradled in a lacy black bra, with gravity threatening to expose them completely. Certain parts of her anatomy were in very close proximity to his face, making him so distracted he almost missed her signal. It was the old hand signage they used when playing baseball together, the knuckleball specifically. He carefully lowered her legs down and she adjusted her shirt, wiping the beer from her face.
"Yes that was awesome!" She said excitedly. "I was scared you wouldn't remember our old pitching calls. Probably should have thought about that before putting my life in your hands."
"Of course I remember," he answered fondly. "How could I ever forget? You're the best catcher in Hillwood."
"Now that," Helga said with a sweet smile, giving him a gentle shove. "Is how you get a girl's attention. Not whatever pseudo Don Juan shit Gerald's been feeding you."
Arnold could feel the weight of someone on top of him. He used his hands to identify the culprit, and instantly his fingers recognized the silky smooth skin of Helga's thighs. He looked up and sure enough, there she was. It took him a moment to realize he didn't have any clothes on, and she herself was clad only in the lacy black brassiere he caught a glimpse of at the party. She didn't even have any panties on.
She smiled a seductive smile at him and grinded her warm, wet slit against his erection. He grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her face to his, tasting every bit of the inside of her mouth and feeling his tongue against hers. He took off the last piece of clothing separating them from full skin-on-skin contact and immediately took a breast in his hand, kissing her and suckling on her nipple. She sighed and thrust her hips forward and back along his length.
He couldn't take it anymore, he had to feel himself inside of her. He needed it, and badly. He needed to hear her moan and scream his name. He needed to know just how good they could make each other feel. This was something he had wanted so immensely that he couldn't wait anymore. His hands fell to her hips and they rubbed against each other for a moment longer before she grabbed his shaft in one hand, like she was reading his thoughts.
She raised her pelvis up and guided the tip of him to her entrance. He was absolutely throbbing now, and the anticipation was making him crazy. They moaned in synchrony as she slowly lowered herself onto him, and took every bit of him into her.
"Fuck!" He exclaimed when she started rolling her hips back and forth slowly. Soon they had picked up a rhythm and their place quickened. She let out primal, high pitched moans that only made him want to fuck her even harder. She leaned her torso down towards him and was panting audibly into his ear. Her hands went to the back of his head, pulling his hair as their bodies slammed into each other.
His nails clawed into the flesh of her back, and he dragged them down until his hands reached her hips. He now knew every inch of her, and she of him. She was so tight, so wet. He could imagine doing this everyday for the rest of his life, he could drag this moment out for the rest of eternity and never want to stop. He loved seeing her breasts bounce, watching her hips writhe around on top of him and hearing her voice hitch when he plunged himself deeper inside of her.
Arnold pressed a thumb to her clit, making her high pitched whimpers intensify.
"Arnold, you feel so good inside me," she whispered in his ear. That was it. That was all she needed to say to drive him over the edge. He slammed himself into her as forcefully as he could, making her scream with pleasure. He groaned as he grabbed her ass, his climax quickly approaching.
Finally, he felt the best physical sensation his body had ever produced. At the very last moment he pulled out from her and marked her with his cum. He laid with his eyes closed, panting tirelessly. He wanted to kiss the beautiful person that made him feel so unbelievably good. He wanted to hug her and hold her and probably do everything they just did all over again. However when he reached up, his hands only caught the nothingness of air. His eyes shot open and he was slapped with shock at the sight of a soft pink blur floating delicately above him. He reached out to grab it but it dodged him easily.
The blur flitted away and Arnold lurched out of bed, stretching his hand out to try and catch it.
"No! Please! Please don't go, don't leave me here all alone," he begged. But the blur simply continued shrinking as it floated away. He fell to his knees in frustration, trying to comprehend how and why that happened. Suddenly he heard a muffled sound.
"Hello?" He asked no one in particular.
"Arnold?" The voice called out, more audibly. He recognized the owner of the voice immediately.
"Helga? Is that you?" He pleaded.
"Arnold!" Helga's voice said much louder this time.
"Arnold! Arnold!"
"I can't find you, where are you?" He turned around to look and jumped when she saw Helga standing nearly nose-to-nose in front of him, smiling in an almost disturbing fashion.
"Arnold! Hey Arnold!"
Arnold suddenly sat up with a jump, his alarm clock sounding off its usual chime, indicating it was time to rise from sleep.
"Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold!"
"Jesus shut up!" He took the clock and threw it hard, causing the noise to cease.
That was all a dream? he wondered. He looked under the cover of his comforter and growled at his soiled bottoms. Definitely a dream. He changed out of his clothes and stripped his mattress, marching everything straight downstairs for a wash. He was annoyed, he didn't understand why these dreams haunted him so. His therapist said something about him needing to deal with or confront the root cause of the blur and what it meant to him. He wasn't so dense he didn't realize that the blur was Helga, but he didn't understand why.
These dreams had been plaguing him before her return, though not for long prior. Sure, he would think about her from time to time in the months before she came back. Occasionally Phoebe would accidentally bring her up in front of him which would irritate him to no end, though admittedly that hadn't happened in a while. Was it just a random chance that his dreams seemed to correlate and almost predict her return? Could the blur have meant something else and then evolved into Helga over time? His therapist was of no help in this, she insisted that he needed to work out the interpretation for himself. This particular dream he would keep to himself, however.
"Hey Arnold!" The voice of Helga rang out making him jump. He quickly turned and she gave him a strange look. "Uh, a little jumpy today?"
"Y-yeah, something like that. You look good," Arnold remarked, eyeing her up and down. His brief moment of agitation was quickly replaced by that of fondness.
Helga wore a loose black cut off t-shirt with a Jolly Roger emblem, skin tight pink pants and her ever faithful black combat boots. Her long hair hung in wavy locks, and she wore her typical bare face with a hint of mascara. Today she had decided to use a dash of liquid eyeliner to give herself a very subtle cat eye and donned oversized gold hoop earrings.
"Oh lord whatever. You always say shit like that. Now why did you want me to meet you here? Is this your locker? And don't you usually disappear around this time?" She asked accusingly, clutching her brown lunch sack in one hand.
"Well I was hoping we could have lunch together today...and yes this is in fact my locker," he said sheepishly.
"Uh, yeah I guess. I'm not really sure why you couldn't just text me that but yeah, lunch sounds good. I usually eat with Pheebs and Tall Hair Boy, sometimes Princess Lloyd or Nadine grace us with their presence. Of course no one would mind if y-"
"Because I wanted to see that face of yours," he said, making her blush. "And actually I was hoping we could eat alone, just you and I."
"OH. Okay. Sure I don't see why not," she answered casually but inside she was absolutely elated at the invitation. It was little things like this she daydreamed about for a very long time. "You uh, want to eat in the cafeteria or in the courtyard?"
"Let's hit the courtyard. The cafeteria's always crowded."
"Okay then, after you bucko," she said and was unable to suppress an excited smile.
They walked side-by-side through the main foyer of the school and found an empty bench nearby. The morning had started off nice enough but a chilly wind had picked up, Helga instantly held her arms to her chest.
"Shit I should have grabbed my sweatshirt, I'll be right back Football Head," she said and went to turn but a hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her from leaving.
"Don't be stupid, just take mine," he said and started pulling his hoodie off, not leaving Helga even a moment to protest. He offered it to her and she mumbled her thanks before putting it on.
"Yes how stupid of me to assume my weird exboyfriend would strip down to nothing all for my sake," she muttered with an eye roll.
"Is that a suggestion?" He said with his mischievous crooked smile, pulling her down to join him.
"Would it matter if it was?"
"Depends on if you were serious or not, I guess."
"Okay," she said with a smirk. "I'm dead serious."
Arnold continued smiling at her as he stood up, slowly unbuttoning his flannel and shaking his hips at her like some sort of man of the night. She laughed and shoved him away from her.
"Alright nevermind this is the cringiest thing ever, oh my god," she remarked through bursts of laughter. Arnold laughed along with her, and returned to sit next to her.
"My turn," he said with a wink.
Helga gave him a gentle shove, "In your fuckin' dreams!" She laughed before continuing again. "So why today, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"Lunch, I mean. Why today? Never seemed like something that was on your radar."
"Eh, I needed a change of pace. And something about eating lunch with a pretty girl seemed like a nice alternative to what I'm usually doing," he said.
"What are you usually doing?" She asked with suspicion hanging onto her words.
Fuck, he thought. How was he supposed to answer that one? He didn't want to lie, that wasn't his intention, but maybe he didn't need to disclose everything about what he was doing during their lunch break. She already knew he was getting high, so he could just elaborate on that. She didn't need to know that he was making money by doling out things like pills and bags of weed to the student body.
"Well, I mean I think you already know. Usually just smoke a bowl or do a line of something," he answered as casually as he could.
"Do a line? Criminy please don't tell me you're some kind of drug addict," she said with narrowed eyes.
Ah shit, he realized he may only be digging himself a deeper hole.
"I'm not a drug addict, I just like to fuck around sometimes. I'm not doing it everyday."
"Yeah I guess… Come to think of it, I don't think you came to class high one day after Tuesday last week. So what were you doing then, if not cozying up to Geraldo?" She asked.
"Uh nothing really. Just hanging out with Iggy or Stinky and some older kids. Sometimes I just like to get away from campus," he said. He knew he was stretching the truth a bit more than he originally intended. But it was too late now, unless she found out on her own he wasn't planning on uttering a word to her.
"Sometimes? Whatever you say, Football Head. What kinds of lines are you doing, anyway?"
The more questions she asked, the more uncomfortable he felt himself getting. It would probably be easier to tell her what kinds of lines he wasn't doing. He had trapped himself now, though. He was going to have to give a little so we wouldn't get suspicious. Never had he cared about anyone finding out about his usual escapades, save for maybe Gerald and his grandparents, but he wanted to at least give himself a chance.
"Pills, usually," at least that part was true. "Depends on the day. Sometimes Adderall, sometimes oxys. Things like that," he said, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably.
"Oh for christ's sake, Arnold…" she muttered. All of a sudden her face lit up before continuing. "You ever do coke?" She asked. He was surprised at how her voice abruptly changed when that question left her. Suddenly she seemed...interested?
"Yeah we do coke from time-to-time. It's expensive though so I-" he stopped to clear his throat. "I mean, we don't get it all the time."
"Hmm yeah makes sense," she said quietly. "D'you have any right now?"
The truth was, Arnold did have some right now but he was taken aback by the question. Maybe he shouldn't have been, she wasn't some lame, straight laced chick. Was he misinterpreting her demeanor in asking the question? Was this something she would get really pissed at him about if he told her the truth?
"I'm going to guess by your weird face that you do," she said. "Can we do some later?"
Arnold smiled a naughty smile at her before answering, "Seriously?"
"Seriously," she said as if the answer was as obvious as could be. Cocaine was one drug Helga had experimented with pretty regularly in the past. In California it was a mainstay party favor, and when the only friends you can make are gutter punks and any others who live a fringe lifestyle, you get more than your fair share of opportunity to try it out. Especially when you're a pretty girl.
The few friends she had always used to give her shit because she would be smoking weed and doing lines with them on the weekends, but she hardly ever drank, instead reserving alcohol for bigger parties. Plus she wasn't too keen on the idea of ending up becoming a lush like Miriam. She also never failed to give everyone a good scolding if they used school as their setting of choice for their shenanigans. To her there was a big difference between having a good time and being an idiot.
"We could do some now, if you want," he offered.
Helga chuckled, "Not now Football Head. We have class, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah alright I get it," Arnold answered. "So when, then?"
She tapped her chin thoughtfully, "Hm, I guess it's hard to say. It's only Monday, and I have homework and shit to do. Fuck if only we had that over the weekend!"
Arnold actually had more over the weekend, as a matter of fact, but he wasn't going to say anything about that right now. He did have a solution to offer but she might not like it. Although it was better than nothing at this point, he decided.
"Listen, why don't we just blow off the rest of our classes?"
"Arnold…"
"Just hear me out, it's only 12:30 right? If we leave school now that gives us a while to come down. It's not hard for me to get out of trouble for missing class, so long as I keep doing therapy and shit. Plus that will give you plenty of time to do your homework since you won't have as much as normal."
Helga sighed and pulled her phone out. She selected a contact and put the phone up to her ear.
"Bob it's Helga. I'm not feeling so hot, you're gonna need to call me outta school before I blow chunks everywhere," she paused briefly as her father responded on the other end of the line. "Yep, sure. Uh-huh. Fine. Bye."
She pressed a button ending the call. "Okay Arnold, let's do this."
The two teens decided that Helga's house would be the safest to go to. Miriam may as well have not even been home, and Bob worked late trying to get everything on track in the store. Despite how much Phil and Gertie loved Helga, they wouldn't take kindly to the two teens skipping class and holing up in Arnold's room. And you could forget adding drugs to the mix.
They walked side-by-side, Arnold laughed remembering how drunk Helga got at the bonfire while she laughed at all of Arnold's shitty come-ons throughout the night. Neither one dared to bring up their activities in the woods, though it lingered in the back of their minds. It was fairly obvious they were into each other, even to them, but their dynamic was so strange neither one knew how to approach it. They both had plenty of things they were keeping from each other. Perhaps if they had allowed their relationship to develop emotionally instead of physically, things wouldn't have gotten so complicated. Too little too late for that now. Though they had never been a conventional pair to begin with.
The two blondes finally approached the brownstone building where Helga lived. She let them both inside, Arnold gawked a little at how nice it was. He forgot that Bob had always done well for himself and that Helga's family had a decent amount of money. The house wasn't anything extravagant, but it certainly put the boarding house to shame. They both wordlessly climbed the stairs, Arnold looked to the living room to see Miriam asleep on the couch, a bottle of bourbon lay on the floor with her hand clutched around the neck of the bottle. The television was playing some sort of daytime talk show in the background.
Helga's parents had pissed Arnold off from the time they were kids. He knew how much she struggled with her self esteem as a child, no doubt some of that was seeded from being raised in a neglectful and dysfunctional home. She may have been something of a little monster growing up, but he always saw beneath her exterior.
He couldn't believe how much she had blossomed during her time away. Sure she was as tough as ever and still found little ways to torment him but it was basically a turn-on for him now. As a kid he chose to look past the unsavory parts of just about everything to find the good or wholesome qualities within. He wasn't so much like that anymore, sometimes people who are rougher around the edges are also more real and authentically themselves. Sometimes those rough edges are the most interesting parts of people.
Arnold followed behind Helga up to her room, she let him in and he looked around curiously. She had posters that were mostly of 80s and 90s punk bands hung around her room. There were also weird portraits of surrealistic creatures that were kind of hypnotizing but mostly strange. He saw something on top of her bookshelf that very much looked like some sort of small mammal in a jar next to what appeared to be a bird skull. And a large tapestry of a mandala hanging behind her bed that she had strung soft pink lights around the top of.
Her choice of decor was certainly bizarre but Arnold enjoyed it. He noticed a few identical pink notebooks on her bookshelf that immediately caught his eye.
Where have I seen something like those before? he wondered. He knew it looked familiar but couldn't for the life of him place it and just shrugged it off. Helga was digging around in her closet, so Arnold sat on her large bed and waited. She pulled out a square piece of glass that looked like the top to a small side table and a little wooden box. She put both on the floor at his feet.
"I think this is everything we'll need. I'm gonna wash up, I need to get this mascara off my eyeballs," she said before walking out of the room.
Arnold looked in the box, a razor was inside along with what looked like an old library card and some pen tubes that had been cut down to about three inch increments. He set his backpack down and pulled out what appeared to be a large can of iced tea but was actually a plastic tube made to look that way. The bottom unscrewed and the inside was a small hidden compartment where he stashed all of his clandestine items. He pulled out a crumpled bag containing several smaller bags of a white powdery substance.
He didn't want Helga to see all of the gram sized bags he had stashed, that would make his intent to sell all too obvious. He took two grams and married them together, that would likely be enough. The best part of dealing was the benefits of having a personal stash. He could do three or four of these and still make decent money. He hid the rest of the cocaine back in his fake can and put their supply for the afternoon on the piece of glass at his feet.
Helga was still taking a while, and his prying eyes got the better of him as he grabbed one of the notebooks and started pawing through it, skimming the pages. There were loads of what appeared to be poems, sometimes just a few words written on a page that seemed more like the writer was recording their thoughts, and the occasional small sketch that he couldn't really make heads or tails of. He settled on a page that seemed similar to the poetry he had read, but was different in that it was the only thing dated. The recorded date was from about a year ago.
"He's not you, but I still look forward to being with him day in and day out. He's not the same, but I still regard him in a way that holds significance. His eyes are not yours, but I find myself getting lost in them from time to time. He isn't the real thing, but a very convenient substitute."
Arnold stared at the page and reread the entry a few times. Is this about...another guy? he wondered. Helga never mentioned anything about having dated someone else, but she also didn't mention hardly anything about her life in California. He felt stupid all of a sudden for not having asked. He gasped when he saw her leaning against her door frame, staring at him.
"Oh I- uh," he uttered, panicking and trying to get the notebook away from him. Helga raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, sorry."
"What exactly did you just read?"
"N-nothing. I didn't read anything, I was just skimming the pages," he lied.
"No, you were snooping and reading my personal shit. I was watching long enough to know you weren't just 'skimming.' So tell me, what did you read?"
Arnold instantly felt guilty, but Helga didn't seem to be angry with him. Annoyed maybe, which he was used to enough.
"Uh, s-something about 'he isn't the real thing, just a convenient substitute,' I think," he said, trying to recall the words properly.
"Oh," Helga chuckled a little. "Tyler's poem, huh?"
"Who's Tyler?" Arnold asked.
"A piece of shit," she answered flatly. "You gonna cut those lines?"
Arnold put the glass on the floor between him and Helga and poured out a small pile of the snowy powder. He used the razor to cut out some lines and handed Helga the pen tube. She put the tube to her nostril and effortlessly snorted the substance. She sniffed several times after and handed the tube back to him. He followed suit and she spoke quietly as he leaned his head back after sniffing his line.
"I guess that's not really fair, is it? As I'm sure you've already figured out, Tyler's my ex."
"Well, okay. I mean yeah, I did kind of assume that," Arnold said while cutting out two mores lines. "I mean I already fuckin' hate him, but why is he a piece of shit?"
Helga hugged her knees to her chest and stared at the floor. "Ha, where do I even start? Just a mean guy, I guess."
Arnold thought it was very strange, how Helga seemed to be shrinking right before his eyes talking about this person. He was curious, but she seemed almost timid, sitting there in a ball. Seeing her like that sparked his concern. Just who was this guy?
"We don't have to talk about it anymore, if you don't want to," he said gently, trying to catch her gaze.
She sighed, "No, it's fine Arnold. Really. Tyler was my ex, like I said, we dated for probably half a year. I broke things off with him about six months or so ago. We were friends at first, really good friends. Neither of us were exactly popular at my last school so him and I always just pal'd around together. Things were fine at first, then he just turned into a fucking psycho," she forced a smile and shook her head.
"Him and I used to do a lot of shit like this. I never cut class with him to do it though," she remarked and shot Arnold a look. He didn't know if that was a compliment, an insult or an observation but a tinge of guilt hit him.
"He was...different though. He did shit like this all the time. Like all the time. Guess that's why I got on your case last week. I used to with him too. With all my friends, really. But at least you didn't beat the shit out of me for it," she chuckled when she saw Arnold's eyes widen like saucers. "That's some serious victim sounding shit, isn't it? It's crazy cause it's not like I loved the guy or anything, ya know? In fact I pretty much hated him after a while. I just took it cause I figured, I dunno, maybe it was what I deserved after being such a fucking demon as a kid. And for treating people like shit for years. For being a rotten bitch to my sister, for what I did to you. Maybe I wouldn't find anyone better, maybe I didn't deserve to."
"No fucking way you deserved any of that," he said and she gently scoffed. "No I'm serious, this guy sounds like a real garbage person. So what made you leave him?"
"That's a good question. I guess the dysfunction was too much, after a while. There was one night he got really...violent. I was texting Pheebs about y-," she caught herself, and backtracked. "Er, ice cream and he went through my phone and read a bunch of stuff we had been talking about. Not just about that, but all the stuff I told her about him and how I was thinking about leaving his ass. He flipped his fucking lid. I thought he was gonna kill me. He started going off about how I can't talk to Phoebe anymore and he started talking about you. So I smashed his face in. It pretty much ended after that," Helga said. Arnold was stunned. He never would have imagined someone like Helga getting pushed around like that, but it actually made a lot of sense too.
"What a fucking prick. Wait, why did he talk about me?"
"Oh, he fucking hated you. Even before him and I started dating he hated you," she answered.
"What, why?"
"Because you're you. He was into me basically as soon as he met me. Anyway, I talked about you sometimes to all my friends. I guess he knew he could never compare. He was actually a pretty cool guy when he wasn't a dick. Too bad he was such a fucking mess of a person who liked to practice his shitty right hooks on my face."
"And he did that a lot?"
"Hit me? Oh yeah. I got him back pretty good a few times though. He was only real scary when he was on something. Till the end, anyway. He tried to fuck me up a few times for leaving him. Fucking pussy shit," Helga said in disdain. She was resting her head on her knees and was staring at nothing in particular.
Arnold was not a big fan of the hollow look in her eyes and felt his own swirl with hatred. He struggled to find the words to respond to all of this. First and foremost he wanted to kill the son of a bitch. How could one person break her like this? This guy didn't deserve to breathe the same air as Helga, let alone put his hands on her. He didn't even know him and yet he imagined his hands squeezing Tyler's windpipe and gleefully watching the light slip from his eyes.
Though he couldn't help drawing certain comparisons, the dude sounded like someone Arnold could be friends with, minus the abusive qualities. He kept thinking back to one thing in particular she said, about how she couldn't handle the dysfunction anymore. Granted, Arnold would never dream of laying a hand in her, but would she say the same thing about him someday? That he was too dysfunctional, too much of a fucking mess?
All of a sudden his side hustle seemed a lot less glamorous. Maybe he should tell her, though now didn't seem to be the time. He could think it over, anyway. Unfortunately for him, that wasn't the only thing he would have to come clean about. But there were some things he would have to take care of first before that could happen. He looked over and she offered him a wry smile. He scooted across the floor and pulled her into a hug. Seeing her like this was torture. He made a promise that no matter what, he would do everything in his power to make sure she never had this terrible and defeated look on her face ever again.
"I'm really sorry Helga. I'm so so sorry. I can't believe someone could be so cruel. I swear to god if I ever see the guy, I'll fucking kill him."
Helga tried laughing off what he said, but couldn't help noticing the darkness behind his eyes, "Well thankfully you won't have to worry about that. Now let's quit moping around. We cut class to have fun not do whatever fucking sad sap shit this is."
"Yeah you're right, sorry. It's my fault, for ya know...snooping," Arnold admitted sheepishly.
"Oh for christ's sake," she said with a smirk, pulling out of his hug. "Just shut up and do your line already."
The two blondes snorted most of the contents of the bag Arnold had put together in a few hours and were laughing and talking just like they used to. It was about three p.m. and Helga suggested they watch a movie while they did the last half gram together. Arnold agreed and sat up on her bed. She asked what kind of movie he might want to watch, and after a bit of a back-and-forth they settled on a cheesy 80s horror flick that neither one had seen before.
Arnold cut up a few more lines for them, and they both took them readily. He was cautious about not doing too much at once, while he wanted them to have a good time he didn't want Helga getting hurt or sick. He figured he had somewhat of a higher tolerance than she did and didn't want to push her past her limit. He was surprised though at how she was able to keep up. Impressed even.
There were a select few drugs he loved, and cocaine was one of them. He had snorted heroin a few times in the past that one of his older friends had scored and he didn't particularly enjoy the feeling. He liked ecstasy and molly, but cocaine was nice because it was so much more controlled and he didn't feel like shit for a week. After that last summer ended, he told himself he would never touch psychedelics like acid or mushrooms again. He figured he wasn't of sound enough mind to ever come close to enjoying his trips.
Pills were another story, he enjoyed benzos and amphetamines like diazepam and Adderall quite a bit. He even liked opiates like oxy or hydro since he could do enough to feel good but without nodding out as badly as when he tried heroin. And once he was able to hone in on what dosages worked for him he could really ride out the high enjoyably. This was especially crucial for him if he was at school, he didn't mind being fucked up but he wasn't too keen on getting caught either. With the amount of illicit stuff he sometimes carried, he had to be careful and not allow himself to get too cocky. Sid was obviously a new obstacle that he didn't foresee, not only did he risk getting exposed to Helga, but the legal risk was there as well. Of course he only started selling at the beginning of the summer, he didn't think things would take such a strange turn so quickly.
The only problem right now however, as was his usual problem when he messed around with any uppers or stimulants, was that he was in a strong state of arousal. He was plenty sexually frustrated to begin with even without the blow, and he couldn't exactly take care of himself right now. His dream from the night before and his recent receival of a blowjob in the woods didn't give him a great baseline, he was still a teenage boy after all. Watching a movie was also not usually on the itinerary if you were high on cocaine. Generally he did it as a party drug, and if he decided to use it at school, it was because he wasn't planning on attending his afternoon classes.
"How much is left?" Helga asked.
"Uh, after those last couple? About a quarter. We should probably just finish it," he said and got up to empty the bag, leaving them both with a generous final line. He offered the tube to her after getting everything square.
"Ladies first."
"Why are you always like that?"
Arnold wasn't sure how to take the question. "Why am I always like what?"
"Always so nice. We're sitting around snorting drugs, for christ sake. And you're still like, the fucking golden boy," she said with a laugh.
"Oh uh, I dunno. Should I not be nice? I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at. Is being nice a bad thing?" he asked.
"No it's a good thing. It's just refreshing to know guys like you still exist on this shit planet. And to know you're still as sweet and dense as ever," she answered warmly.
Arnold laughed, "Ya know, you could have just said sweet, but I'll take it. It's nice to know someone out there thinks so highly of me."
Helga sniffed her last portion, handing the tube to Arnold. She stared hard at him as he took the last bit of their stash, he couldn't help but notice when he finished and stared back at her curiously.
"You're really great Arnold, you know that?" She said suddenly. "I feel like...I don't know. Like I really like you, you know?"
Arnold's stomach fluttered like the pages of a windswept book and his heart felt like it could pop. He could only hope it wasn't cardiac arrest or something from all the white powder he had inhaled into his body over the course of the last few hours. Was this a dream, would she fade into a blur and float away like all the other times? There was only one way to find out.
He grabbed her and pulled her onto him, while leaning against the bed. She wrapped her limbs around him, and caressed the back of his head as her tongue readily slid into his mouth. His senses were so heightened that every touch from Helga sent shockwaves through his body. He lifted her off the floor and he fell on top of her onto her plush bed. Helga used her legs to pin Arnold tightly to her and hastily started unbuttoning his shirt. His impatience caught up with him, as he finished the last three or so buttons before pulling his sweatshirt and her cut off over her head.
Arnold's hands hastily went under Helga to unclasp her bra, and she threw it to the side as soon as it unfastened. He didn't want to push her into doing anything, but was elated as soon as her hands fell to unbutton his jeans. He couldn't get them off quickly enough and groaned when one hand gave a small pull to his hair as the other slid his boxers down and he kicked them away. His fingers got to work removing her skin tight pants, while hers wrapped around his hard shaft, sending waves of pleasure through him. As soon as her jeans were off, he rubbed her between her legs. She let out a quiet moan into his mouth, and he felt himself become intoxicated by her. He would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, but as soon as she pulled his hands from her and rubbed her sex against his, his craving for her quickly drowned that out.
Never had Arnold wanted something as badly as Helga. Not just her body, but everything. He wanted all of her to be his. Her laugh, her radiant smile, her eyerolls and her sarcastic remarks couldn't belong to anyone else. No matter what he had to do, he would do it all and more just to make her his. She pulled her mouth from his, her eyes half lidded and lips swollen.
"Do you want to keep going?" She asked. He nodded enthusiastically, making her chuckle softly. "Then fuck me."
Suddenly a thought hit that both irritated and disappointed him. "I really want to. Really. But I don't uh, I don't have a condom."
Helga smiled and laughed, "I'm on birth control, you idiot."
The words were like music to Arnold's ears. He hoped his instincts would do him well, considering he had never had sex before. His mouth fell to her neck and chest, bestowing her with kisses. He gave her breasts a few gentle nips and her sharp breaths drove him wild. She grabbed his member and guided him between her legs. He slowly entered and once he was fully inside of her his entire body tingled with pleasure so great he let out an audible gasp. Helga moaned in a way he had never heard before that reverberated in his ears like a song he wanted to hear on repeat. He slowly pulled himself back before knocking his hips forward again, and each time he did her voice rang out, egging him on.
He positioned himself so he was up on his knees and her legs wrapped around him, keeping him inside of her. She dug her nails into his thighs, and he held her by her hip bones. He watched himself moving inside of her, a sight he made sure he wouldn't soon forget. The movement of her breasts each time he plunged into her along with the sound of her breathy gasps and moans were etched deeply into his brain. His dream was easily overshadowed by the real thing, and he was certain that even without the influence of cocaine he had never felt anything this good.
The pleasure was so immense at first it was almost too much for him to bear, as much as he wanted to just hold her down and ravage her. He started off very slow and deliberate, getting a feel for Helga and letting his body desensitize. The sensation soon wore down a bit, and he could increase his speed and force. As he quickened his pace she pulled him down onto her and rolled them over, positioning herself on top of him.
His hands massaged her breasts as she sensually rolled her hips forward and back, making him groan at the slightly different but wonderful feeling. Arnold could feel how wet she was as she slid herself around on top of him. And just like in his dream, he started rubbing her clit intently to which she responded by slamming herself into him with vigor. They moaned and sighed and panted together as they approached climax.
This was everything he hoped his first time would be and more. They were now connected in a way that bound them to each other. Their bodies had physically merged, and never did he imagine how precious this notion was until now. He never wanted to let her go, never wanted to be away from her ever again. He could make this work, he had to.
As he fiercely and quickly thrust into her, he felt a warm and tingling sense of pleasure building. It was so intense it made his vision spotty and distorted. Helga shrieked and her body started trembling atop his, he sighed as his groin released pure euphoria. Endorphins flooded his brain as his synapses rapidly fired, leaving him satisfied in a way that was akin to being wrapped in a plush, warm blanket.
Helga collapsed on top of him and the two were panting from exhaustion and their intense orgasms. This was her first real time having sex as her actual first time had been written off long ago as being non-existent. This experience only further validated that. Finally, she thought. The day she had dreamt of and fantasized about for so long had finally come to fruition. She had made love with the boy of her dreams.
Helga laid on him for a while, Arnold's arms snugged around her and their pelvises still locked together. Neither dared move so as not to let the moment end a second before it had to. Her cheek was laid on his chest, and he kissed the top of her head as if it was the most precious thing his lips had ever touched. She wanted to keep him there with her forever.
"I really like you too, by the way," he said, breaking the silence. "A dangerous amount, as a matter of fact." She looked up at him and he gave her an impish smirk. He grabbed her wrists firmly and pulled her up to him, kissing her deeply. He was really hopeful they could go for round two.
Suddenly Helga thought she could hear the sound of the front door opening and closing.
"Olga? You home?" She heard her father's voice booming from downstairs.
Crap. He's home early.
"Arnold you need to get the fuck out of here," she said as she jumped off of him.
"What? How?!"
Helga frantically looked around as she heard her father's footsteps slowly ascending the stairs.
"Window! Go out the window," she hissed.
"The win-" Arnold started, hastily pulling his pants on. "And what, break my fuckin' ankle?"
Footsteps hit the top of the stairs and she grew desperate, throwing him his remaining clothes and backpack and kicking the piece of glass along with the pen tube and razor under her bed. She pulled on a pair of underwear and an oversized shirt with lightning speed.
"Yep!"
"W-wait maybe we could just-"
"Get the fuck out, Football Head!"
"Fuck alright I'm going," he said, opening the window and propping himself on the sill while stuffing his items in his backpack, but suddenly stopped. "Text me?"
"Arnold, move!"
"Not going till you agree," he said with a devilish grin.
"Fine, just go dumbass!"
Footsteps outside her door. Her eyes were crazy as she looked around the room, making sure nothing suspicious was strewn about. A knock rapped the back of the door.
"Olga? Girl, are you in there?" Bob called out.
She groaned before looking and seeing that Arnold was gone, making her sigh in relief.
"Yes dad, what is it?"
He opened the door and winced upon seeing her knotted hair and sweat covered face.
"What are ya doing outta bed? Christ, you look like hell! I brought home a pizza if you get hungry. I'll be downstairs with your mother," he said before closing the door behind him.
Helga let out the seemingly eternal breath she had been holding. That was too fucking close, she thought before seeking out her backpack to do homework. On the floor was an iced tea can she didn't recognize. Figuring it must have spilled from Arnold's backpack amidst the chaos she went to pick it up and immediately found the object curious.
The fuck? Is this... plastic?
She stared at it before giving it a tentative shake. It was hollow and there was definitely stuff inside. She analyzed the can carefully, and saw a lip on the bottom that didn't look like it should be there. She tried to pry it open at first, then noticed there were ridges lining the lip. Looks like all she had to do was unscrew it.