Hey, guys!

Sorry, for the late update. I didn't think it would take as long but sometimes the spark comes and goes as it pleases. Needless to say, my next update should be within 2-3 weeks.

In any case let's get to reviews.

Yali Page- Don't worry! I have a plan!

DeepVoice06- I'm glad I have you guessing, even if the story is in a rough spot at the moment. It gets better:)

The Jam- Some people are harder to fool haha. See if you can guess where it goes from here.

starfiction123- It's quite the mess, indeed. But not irredeemable.

The Rhombus- As you're very familiar, sometimes things need to be a bit brutal for the point to get across, and for the endgame to be that much more satisfying. Both are at a severe impasse not easily broken.

AllegroGiocosco- Thank you again for your thoughts:) I have a feeling you'll like the ending.

manga flower- Wow, that's impressive! I'm glad you like it so much. Thank you so much!

isa- Thank you! The update is here!

Seriously, guys, thank you for your continued support. Work makes it a bit tough sometimes but I'm really happy with where I am in this fic. Makes me that much more excited for the ending:)

Anyway, on with the story. Don't hate me too much, okay? xD

Chapter 16. Desperation

Gerald Johanssen took his role as Arnold's best friend seriously. He considered him like a brother and had been best friends almost from the moment they had met in preschool. So when something was severely effecting his mood, he did his best to pick his buddy up and move forward.

Except this time around a typical pep talk wasn't going to suffice. He had seen Arnold in 'moods' before. They weren't violent or intimidating, rather the tendency was to become sullen and withdrawn, barely speaking or acknowledging anyone around him. In years past, Gerald had been able to solve these issues with limited complications. But this was far more complicated.

In the weeks following the unfortunate incident where Helga ridiculed his best friend in front of the whole school, walking to P.S. 118 had become a rather boring, depressing exercise. He tried drumming up a conversation, using any tactic to try and inject a bit of life into Arnold. Alas it was to no avail.

The current morning was a prime example of it.

"So, I hear Park's having a get together for the guys this weekend. Even got a soft serve ice cream machine and some video games. What do you say?"

"Not interested, Gerald. Thanks anyway."

"Come on, Arnold. You know Park has all the best gear, his family is loaded. He even got the baseball team new bats."

"I said, no."

There was a sharpness and finality to that tone Gerald did not like. If the depression had been bad before, it was ten times worse now. Arnold only interacted with people if he had to, otherwise he spent most of his time alone or holed up in the boarding house. And though the sixth grade teams were suffering as a result, the problem went beyond that of winning ball games. Gerald was more concerned for his best friend than ever.

He knew the reason too: Helga Pataki. The unpredictable enigma that had dogged him and everyone since they could fingerpaint was the prime suspect. The preteen previously warned Arnold about developing feelings for the girl, but those warnings fell on deaf ears. His gut told him something bad would happen as a result and the proof was in the pudding. At first, he was supremely upset and pissed off at Helga. Her outburst went beyond her normal crassness and bullying- it was a full blown humiliation and he silently approved the amount of grief she was receiving from their other classmates.

That satisfaction had quickly worn off, however. Not only was Arnold down in the dumps, but Helga was equally melancholic, her eyes constantly red and puffy as she traversed the hallways or sat with Phoebe at lunch. Far from being her usual aggressive, standoffish self, she had ceased any bullying of any kind. Against his better judgement, he had begun to feel a degree of sympathy for her. Not because he approved of her prior transgressions, but the sorry states of both blondes seemed to have cast a pall on the entire school. To see them constantly distraught was no fun for anyone.

So what did one do? How could the situation be fixed? Was such an idea remotely plausible? Or would Arnold and Helga descend further into the spiraling web of emotional nightmare, forever linked to the other's unhappiness?

These thoughts continued to plague him before homeroom, as he grabbed his books from his locker. Even his girlfriend couldn't chase them away.

"Something wrong?" Phoebe inquired of him as he shut the locker door.

"Everything," he muttered, not bothering to hide his distress.

"Arnold still not talking much?" she guessed easily.

"Worse than that. I don't think the man's eating or sleeping properly. He's a shadow of his former self."

"Helga is just as bad, if not worse," Phoebe admitted, bowing her head with a sigh. "I know what she did was horrible, but I also know they fought again days after the cafeteria incident. Apparently, Arnold rejected her rather coldly. Ever since, she hasn't been able to stop crying."

Gerald fiddled with his afro, bewildered and conflicted as to what to do.

"This is bad. Both of them are so pissed off. Seeing Helga get what she deserves was great at first but now…"

"It feels hollow, doesn't it?" Phoebe finished sadly.

"Worse than that. I never thought I'd see the day where I felt sorry for Helga Pataki. She's unhappy because my best bud's happy and vice versa. It can't go on like this."

"No, it can't. Something needs to be done, for Arnold and Helga's sake."

"Speak of the devil."

It was in the middle of their conversation that the slumped form of the blonde girl walked up to the couple hesitantly. Helga looked as she always did, pink dress, converse sneakers, matching bow. Except as was the case recently, her eyes were the same depressing shade of red and her nose slightly stuffed up which was discernable when she spoke. It seemed the bully was no longer in business.

"H-hi…Pheebs," she said, knowing Gerald would probably not want her around.

Instead of anger, however, the preteen simply raised an eyebrow at her. Far from being angry he was somewhat curious as to what she wanted.

"Helga, you look awful. Are you sure you don't need to go to the nurse?" Phoebe asked delicately knowing the real reason for her haggard appearance.

"Don't patronize me," she grunted. "You both know why my life sucks right now."

The couple looked at each other, not really knowing how to reply to that, nor what Helga actually wanted from this conversation.

"Well…aren't you going to say something?"

"What do you want us to say?" Gerald responded. "That you didn't blow up and humiliate my best friend a couple weeks ago and everything is just fine and dandy around here?"

"I-you…I don't know," Helga said, smacking her hand against her face in shame. "But I also don't know where else to turn. Not only have I not been able to stop crying, but I know that Arnold is even worse. For criminy's sake, you have to help me talk to him, do something so he'll notice me. I can't take this anymore!"

"So now you want us to fix your problem? You're barking up the wrong tree."

"Thanks for the sympathy, Geraldo."

"Is that why you came to talk to us? For sympathy?"

This is when Phoebe knew she had to cut in before the conversation turned nasty. Gerald did feel sympathy for both parties involved but he was still going to defend his best friend. The two were not buddy-buddy and as the best friend of one and the girlfriend of the other it was her role to mediate.

"Enough," she said, separating them. "You're both upset for good reasons, but bickering won't solve the problem at hand."

She turned towards her best friend.

"Helga, I hate seeing you like this as much as Gerald hates seeing Arnold as he is now. I just need to know you're sorry about what happened."

The blonde practically sputtered.

"Sorry?! Pheebs, are you kidding? I've never been more sorry about anything in my life! You know how I feel about Arnold, about how I-"

She stopped in her tracks, even now unwilling to openly say she loved the blond boy in front of others, cursing that unwillingness more than ever.

"Gerald," Phoebe continued turning back around. "You know Helga is sorry and you've said yourself this has to end. Please, put whatever animosity you still carry aside in order to focus at the task at hand."

Her boyfriend sighed, debating the question in his mind for half a second for nodding reluctantly.

"Alright, fine. For Arnold's sake, I'm in. But before we go any further, I want you to admit it, Helga."

The blonde girl swallowed and played dumb despite knowing full well what he was talking about.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not a simpleton, you know," Gerald replied skeptically. "It may have taken me longer to figure out how you feel about Arnold, but if we're going to do this, I need to hear it from you. I want to hear from your lips that you like him."

He crossed his arms as he issued the challenge. By now, he was fully aware of her feelings, but needed the last bit of reassurance to waive any doubt that this was a prank or some other ploy to deny her true intentions.

"You win," Helga finally huffed out, though her body trembled slightly. "I've been in love with your best friend since the first day we stepped into preschool and I use this tough, mean, outer shell to hide it from everyone. Happy?"

A smirk came across the black preteen's face.

"Very much so."

"Now that we're all in agreement," Phoebe interrupted. "We have to decide how best to catch Arnold's attention. I suggest a formally apology."

"Earth to Phoebe, he doesn't want to talk to me!" Helga said, completely exasperated. "I've tried and he just ignores me. There has to be another way."

"Well what did you have in mind?"

"I've got an idea," she said with a sad shrug. "No guarantee it'll work but it's better than nothing. Feel free to come up with more."

"Let's talk about it later. Class is about to start," Gerald pointed out.

As if on cue, the bell rang, signaling they only had a matter of seconds to get to homeroom and so the trio made their way towards Mr. Frank's room.

"Man, I cannot believe it took you this long to admit you liked Arnold," Gerald said, his tone giving away slightly amusement.

"Oh yeah? Took you long enough to figure it out, Geraldo," Helga shot back.

No one bothered to argue with that.

The first idea was a simple one but on short notice, it was all they had to go on.

Arnold always admired people with character, those who went out of their way to assist people in need just as he did. Helga's reasoning was that if she performed a good deed worthwhile enough to merit his attention, it might be enough to get them back on speaking terms.

Personally, Phoebe and Gerald thought such reasoning was dubious at best, nevertheless they observed as the rest of the class returned from recess. The days were getting warmer and today had been the first that reached eighty degrees during the spring and no doubt the boys would be tired and sweaty after a basketball game.

Helga was standing by the double doors, ready to lend a helping hand to whoever needed it.

On cue, a crew of Harold, Stinky, Sid, Iggy, and Curly lagged into the hallway, the first of which seemed particularly famished, wiping his hand on an equally sweaty forehead, highlighted by his darkened t-shirt.

"Man, what a game," he said aloud in his usual husky tone. "I'm still feeling those cramps."

"Ya wouldn't be getting them cramps if ya didn't eat so much during lunch," Stinky teased.

"Shut up!" the ex-bully threatened, though he still had the capacity for intimidation. "Just go with Sid and you better not eat my Mr. Fudgey that I saved for later."

"Whatever you say, Harold."

The Jewish teen wiped his forehead again and headed towards the fountain.

"I need a drink," he muttered.

The moment he arrived at the fountain also happened to be the same moment Arnold entered the vicinity, signaling Helga's cue.

"Say there, Harold, you sure look tired and in need of some water. Need some help?"

To say he looked confused was an understatement, as Harold could only stare for a few seconds after this generous offer.

"What?"

Helga had to resist her temporal urges. Honestly, was the boy always this thick?

"Just offering a nice refreshing drink for you," she replied with a grin that didn't quite meet her eyes. "I'll even hold the button for you."

"Is this a trick?" Harold said scratching his head. "You're usually calling me fat, stupid, and 'pink boy'. What if you spray water in my face?" he accused.

"No ulterior motives here, Harold," Helga continued to insist, though she could feel the façade slipping the longer the interaction lasted. "Just a good citizen looking to help out."

The teen didn't look the slightest bit convinced, nevertheless he bent his face down to take a refreshing gulp of water which the blonde provided with her thumb. When he had taken his fill, he wiped his mouth and burped loudly.

"Uh…thanks. I guess," Harold as though he still was unsure of what had just happened. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to his friends. "Hey Stinky, Sid, quit going through my stuff!"

Helga on the other hand wasn't even concerned with his reaction, rather she was checking to see if Arnold had noticed, and unfortunately he hadn't. Instead, he had kept on walking barely registering anything that wasn't five feet in front of him.

"Damn it!" she muttered to herself.

"Noble, Helga," Phoebe said coming over. "But not quite enough I'm afraid to garner Arnold's attention."

"Yeah, giving bubba free drink at the fountain ain't gonna cut it," Gerald agreed.

"Okay, then. What shall I do next, oh wise one?" Helga mocked against her better judgement which earned her a minor glare from the couple.

"Well I do have a thought," Phoebe said, tapping her chin. "But be warned, you might not like it."

"Just tell me," the blonde said, the desperation returning to her voice. "I can't stand this anymore. I'll do anything."

"Anything except this!" Helga growled an hour later after fifth period.

"Hey, you said anything, Helga," Gerald shrugged.

"Don't push it, afro boy!"

"Remind me again, why I'm here," Rhonda cut across the arguing, her lofty air as potent as ever.

"To reiterate," Phoebe said, shifting her glasses. "Rhonda, you're going to allow Helga to say nice things about you…Helga try not to vomit."

"Yeah, call me cynical, but what's in it for me?" the socialite asked.

"I'll pay you five bucks?" Gerald offered weakly.

"Puh-lease," Rhonda sniffed. "I'm the last person on earth you can bribe with money considering I already have it."

"My mom runs the convenience store. I can get you a free subscription of 'Pre-teen Miss' each month."

That got her attention.

"Alright, fine," she agreed. "But mostly, I'd like to see Arnold happy again. The poor doll hasn't smiled in weeks. If you say this will help him, no further questions asked."

"Thanks for the generosity, princess," Helga couldn't help but sneer. "Now are you ready? Arnold's in the bathroom and he'll be coming out of it any second."

"Just make sure your compliments sound genuine enough," Rhonda sassed back. "We both know it's not your strong suit."

A hand on her shoulder from Phoebe was barely enough to prevent the blonde from telling her to buzz off right then and there. But alas, the window for insults were dashed as Arnold emerged from the restroom.

"Here he comes! Act natural!"

Phoebe and Gerald struck very lame casual poses while Helga and Rhonda stood awkwardly as Arnold approached.

"Hey there…R-Rhonda," it felt strange for that name to leave her tongue without some sort of insult behind it. "I…uh…like your outfit."

"Oh, do you? How nice of you to notice," the other girl replied in a falsely, sweet tone. "It's custom made silk from Italy," she flared out her glossy, blue skirt. "Where…um, did you get your dress? It's so…original."

"Mom got it for me when I was four. Been sticking with it ever since."

"How wonderful."

Gerald shook his head. This little show wasn't fooling anyone, and Arnold wouldn't be dumb enough to fall for it. Phoebe knew it too and motioned for them to skip to the final line.

"Well, I must say, I appreciate your help, Helga," Rhonda said loudly, as the blond boy walked past. "I think I know what I'm going to wear to my next party."

"Certainly glad I could assist you in something so important. Anything for a friend."

Helga couldn't help but peak over at her beloved, who once again had barely given so much as a sideways glance before returning to the classroom.

Deflated once more, Phoebe tried to comfort her as best as she could. However, it was Gerald who spoke aloud what they were all thinking.

"Well that was about as believable as Chocolate Boy switching to radishes."

Rhonda turned her nose in the air.

"I tried my best. It's not my fault if Helga can't act."

"I don't think that was the problem," Phoebe sighed. "It's no secret you two don't get along very well. It probably wasn't the best premise to begin with."

"Yeah so spare me the 'bad acting' excuse," Helga spat. "Now, buzz off!"

Rhonda 'harumphed' loudly in arrogant displeasure.

"Whatever. Just don't say I never did anything for you, okay? I'll expect that copy of 'Preteen Miss' the first Tuesday of each month, by the way."

And she walked off without another word.

"Any other ideas?" Helga said, the misery returning to her voice.

"Kinda," Gerald said, though he didn't appear sure it would work. "I remember the times Eugene used to get hurt when Arnold was around and he'd do anything to help him out."

"Someone say my name?" Eugene called out cheerfully, before he slipped on a banana peel and landing painfully on his back.

"I'm okay."

"Anyway, that was just Eugene," Gerald explained. "If someone closer to him, like his best friend, were to become injured, I'd bet you he'd notice then."

"That's risky," Phoebe cautioned. "Arnold may not take kindly to being duped like that."

"What other choice do we have?" Helga responded. "We have to go for it."

"Alright then."

None of the three looked particularly enthusiastic about said plan. It was truly a mark of how desperate the situation was.

With the ringing of the bell, the school day ended, but the drama was just beginning at P.S. 118. As Mr. Frank's class shuffled out of the door, mild chatting occurring among them, Phoebe gave Gerald the nod right as they exited into the hallway.

Immediately, the black preteen dropped to the floor, holding his knee in a fetal position.

"Agh! Damn man, my knee!"

"What's going on?"

"Gerald?"

"I don't know what happened," he groaned through fake pain, hoping he was selling his part better than Rhonda had. "I must have planted it wrong or something."

"Can you stand up?" Sid asked.

"Not on my own," Gerald replied, sucking wind through his teeth in a display of discomfort.

"Here, let me help!" Helga said rushing through, pushing everyone out of the way to reach him. "I can get you the all the way to hospital."

"Thanks, Helga," Gerald said, taking her and Phoebe's hand as they lifted him up back onto his feet.

But the show ended prematurely, as they had barely taken a single step when they stood face to face with Arnold.

"Stop it, you guys," he said, his tone indicating he was not at all pleased.

"W-what, do you mean?" Helga stuttered.

"You can cut with the fake injury," he said, seeing right through the lie. "I know Gerald's not really hurt. The hospital is fifteen blocks from here, it would take you an hour to get there on foot."

Not bothering to keep the jig up any longer, Helga simply released Gerald, who wasn't expecting it and fell to the floor in a heap.

"And I know you've been pretending to be nice and complimentary to get my attention all day but it's not going to work. I told you I didn't want to see or talk to you anymore, Helga. Get that through your head. Frankly, I'd really appreciate it if everyone just leaves me alone right now."

Arnold slung his backpack over his shoulders and the crowd surrounding them followed, murmuring gossip from the girls already underway.

For her part, Helga's heart sunk even lower than it had that morning. His stance hadn't changed since that awful day and that same cold tone he used the last time was icier than ever.

"Great, now he's mad at all three of us," Gerald said, dusting himself off as he got back on his feet.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into pulling that little stunt!" the blonde cried, turning on him. "Of course he was going to see right through it! Now he hates me even more and he'll continue to act as if I don't exist!"

"Don't go blaming me for anything," Gerald shot back. "We agreed to help you against our better judgement. If he still doesn't want to talk to you that's your fault."

"He's never going to know how I feel!" Helga said, knocking her head against the wall. "How much I care about him."

But Gerald simply shook his head. A part of him still felt a twinge of sympathy for the blonde girl, however the situation was out of his hands and he wanted no more part in it.

"Face it, Helga. You've had eight years to tell him how you feel. If you had wanted, you could have done it any time you wanted. You didn't have to be a bully!"

His own temper getting the better of him, Gerald decided it was time to take his leave. This day needed to end plain and simple.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. I'll call you later Phoebe."

Helga, knowing he was right, had no answer, no snarling retort, or any insult to shield herself from her actions. She simply let the tears drop silently, as Phoebe took her by the hand and led her back home to the confines of her room.

The half Asian preteen wasn't a religious person. After all, her parents were secular and hadn't raised her in either a Christian or Buddhist environment. But at the moment, comforting her crying best friend, she offered a silent prayer to whatever entity may exist, wishing for nothing more than for Arnold and Helga to be happy again.

I know, I know you can say it. I'm being depressing right now (lol). Not to make light of Arnold or Helga's situation, but things will get better. I promise folks, you're going to really like how this ends up.

~The Wasp