Hey, guys.

Another update is here. It took a little longer than I expected, but it's here and I think everyone reading and following this fic is in for a treat:)

Won't say anything more than that. Reviews!

The JAM aka Numbuh i- Indeed, it didn't. Perhaps something else will.

AllegroGiocoso- I always enjoy your write ups and reviews:) they always point out things even I might have missed. Even so, our two blondes need each other, but let's just say that expressing yourself takes more than words sometimes.

Ezza- That's not a bad idea! Keep reading!

The Rhombus- I like that you mentioned Phoebe because she is definitely a character I have enjoyed writing and growing in this fic. In the Jungle Movie you can already see her confidence growing and I wanted to continue that. In the end, however, Helga's redemption and Arnold's revelation will come when they least expect it. But taking the first steps to rectify it are a key positive.

manga flower- Gerald would go to hell and back for his best bud:) Helga is the epitome of a good person who makes consistently bad choices and this one served to highlight how badly she messed up. But don't think me cruel haha I love these two together too much to keep them separated much longer.

Johnny- There is indeed, a chapter 17 my friend. Enjoy!

DeepVoice06- I do think you have a good idea, a rough sketch perhaps, of how this will play out but I am very interested to get your take regardless after you finish reading it. Just once, I was hoping I could throw your scent off the trail haha. Things are coming to a head though and the resolution is not far.

Isabelle- Thank you:) you're very kind. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Thank you, again, everyone for reviewing and keeping up with it. I really can't wait to gage your thoughts on the ending.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 17. Image in Her Kiss

Arnold awoke one Saturday morning feeling as he had for the past couple of weeks- lethargic and melancholic.

Though almost a teenager, it wasn't the desire to sleep in that kept him in his bed most of the time when not at school. For the past couple weeks, he had unable to enjoy anything in the way of joy or merriment, which also wasn't unusual for kids his age hitting the throes of puberty. But for Arnold, the melancholy ran deeper than anyone knew.

Ever since his latest and last altercation with Helga, he could not get the memory of it out of his mind. Often times it replayed in his head during school, even in his dreams, each time causing the aching in his heart to increase that much more. Despite his statement to the blonde girl that he never wanted to see or talk to her again, the cruel irony was that she essentially lived inside his head rent free. Because the truth was, even after everything that happened, he still retained feelings for her. He would not, however, lower himself to fix their broken relationship. That wasn't his responsibility and Helga's attempts to try and catch his attention were pathetic moves of desperation.

Slow to rise, Arnold nevertheless stood up from his bed, barely enough energy to go about basic tasks- brushing his teeth, deodorant, combing his hear, getting dressed, etc.

He publicly and privately criticized Helga for pulling those stunts and he hadn't spoken to Gerald for two days after that either. But despite his own disgust, he couldn't ignore his own sense of desperation. The loss of Helga and his subsequent withdrawal opened other cans of worms he thought were buried, namely that of his parents. Faced with ever present mystery of their disappearance and with little hope of ever finding out the truth about their fate, it was all Arnold could do to keep going. It took him awhile to realize the essence of the hole in his heart- it wasn't just a normal type of sadness; it was abandonment and the fear of further loss.

True, he still had his grandparents, and they had done the best they could given the circumstances. He knew they were worried about his wellbeing, but coming from an older generation, they would not be the type to press him on an issue if he didn't want to talk about it. And what was there to talk about? That he missed his parents? That he was increasingly afraid of close relationships? That a girl he had truly fallen for humiliated him in front of the entire school?

There was nothing to be gained by acknowledging such facts, for all the good it would do. He had revealed and said too much back when he was naïve enough to believe you could trust anyone. Now, it made no difference.

Making his way down the stairs, he stepped into the kitchen and saw only his grandparents, Phil sipping on some coffee while reading the paper, and Gertie attempting to give Abner a bath in the sink. Arnold raised an eyebrow at the potential hazards of the latter but said nothing.

"Morning, short man," his grandfather greeted, cheerfully. "You've been getting up later than usual on weekends. Breakfast is over, but you can still make a sandwich if you like."

"That's okay, I'm really not that hungry anyway," Arnold responded, scouring the inside of the fridge for some orange juice.

"Boys your age are always hungry," Phil said. "Why I can remember when I was twelve, I was constantly chowing down on whatever I could find…of course then the Depression hit and there wasn't anything to eat all…but that's beside the point."

"I'll just stick to OJ."

He poured himself a glass and sat himself down, drumming his fingers a glazed look coming over his eyes, as he drowned out the scene behind him.

"Pookie, will you knock off trying to wash that pig?"

"He's long overdue for a good scrubbing and by golly he's going to get one!"

His grandmother laughed and continued on with the horrid bath despite Abner's squealing.

A concerned look came over Phil's features as he noticed just how forlorn his grandson was.

"So, short man…any plans today?"

"No, not really."

"Nothing? No ballgame with Gerald or an ice cream with your friends."

Arnold shrugged, his attitude remaining as bland as ever.

"Nope."

Water sprayed from the sink, barely missing both grandfather and grandson, the former using his newspaper as a shield.

"Pookie! If you don't get that thing to pipe down, I'm turning it into a ham!"

Turning back to Arnold he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper.

"Speaking of which, we actually do need a ham for tonight's dinner. I know you've spent a lot of time in your room lately, so maybe some fresh air will do ya some good. See what Mr. Green has in stock."

The last thing the preteen wanted to do was head down to the butcher's shop, but he was never one to turn down a request from his grandparents. After all, it was the least he could do for them.

"Alright," he said taking the paper and getting up from the chair. "I'll be back soon."

"Thanks a million, lad. Here's a fifty to cover it."

Another wave of water issued all over the floor, with Abner escaping the clutches of Gertie and running out into the hallway, leaving a soapy trail behind him, the older woman not far behind.

"Well anyway, take your time. This little disaster could be a while," he said, putting a hand to his forehead and getting up from the table himself. "Pookie, this is the last time you try and give that pig a bath. Do you hear me?"

Arnold figured that was a good cue to leave. Not needing a jacket due to the mild spring weather, he merely pocketed the order and the money and headed out the door.

Ordering and picking up from Mr. Green's was a relatively simple task. Given that it was Saturday morning, not many people were in line and so Arnold could pick the correct cut at his leisure.

"You want the Virginia ham, Arnold?" Mr. Green asked in his usual burly tone. "Got it fresh today."

"Sure. Why not?"

He took a quick look around the store, the same as it had always been for as long as he could remember. Mr. Green was a staple in the neighborhood, and the familiar musk of the animal products he served could take him back years. Of course, the fact that he was also a councilman certainly raised the profile of his business.

"Say, where's Harold today?"

"I had to give the day off," Mr. Green grunted as he wrapped the ham and placed it on the weighing station. "By law I can only work a kid his age a certain number of hours. He still loves it though, God bless him. I'm just thankful his rabbi hasn't given me lip for letting him handle pork."

He chuckled to himself.

"That'll be twenty-one dollars, Arnold."

After the quick transaction, Mr. Green gave him the change and the giant ham in a bag, which he took, struggling to keep the awkward bulk underneath his arm.

Arnold began to head out of the shop, but the fates would not allow him to go about the day without at least one unfortunate moment, for right as he turned around Helga Pataki entered the deli.

It took about half a second for the two blondes to catch one another's eye and to say it was awkward was a heavy understatement. Both preteens began blushing furiously and tried to sidestep the other in an attempt to avoid any further contact.

"Umm…hi…sorry."

"Er yeah, I was just leaving…"

Arnold managed to finally slip out of the door whilst Helga headed towards the counter. Readjusting the ham, he blew a sigh of relief and continued on his way.

Can't I go one day without being reminded of her? He criticized himself. Hasn't she done enough?

True, it was only unhappy coincidence that they had run into each other but the two were still fresh off several incidents not easily forgotten. Did he risk coming across Helga Pataki each time he dared venture out into the world?

As it turned out, he risked far more on this day. Suddenly, Arnold felt himself being grabbed by a pair of strong, wiry hands and was painfully shoved up against the back alley of Mr. Green's shop.

"OW! What the-"

"One more peep and you'll wish you were never born," spoke a reedy yet menacing voice.

Arnold regained enough of his senses to gain a perspective of who was attempting to mug him. A tall figure, who's face remained shrouded in a black sweatshirt hoodie, combined with a cheap track suit and ratty tennis shoes. His face, however, was close enough for Arnold to detect the smell of alcohol on his breath.

The preteen had been taught karate by his grandmother but given that he was pinned tightly against the brick behind him, he became agreeable as he could. One didn't risk your life unnecessarily at the hands of a robber.

"Look, just take the ham," he breathed out, struggling against the arm pressed up against his throat. "Take my change too. Just let me go."

A cruel smirk could be seen from underneath the hoodie as sound of a knife being drawn could be heard.

"Oh, I'll be taking a lot more than that."

He waved the six-inch blade in front of the preteen, causing his anxiety and heart rate to skyrocket. Was this man intent on killing him? And why did he seem familiar somehow?

"This ain't your day, is it? Football face."

Five minutes earlier

Helga Pataki grumbled all the way from her home down to the butcher's shop where her mother had stuck an errand on her she was too lazy to do herself. Count on Big Bob to suddenly be in the mood for Polish sausage. Miriam, normally oblivious to any internal strife within her second daughter had wondered aloud if she was in some kind of "mood."

Yeah, no kidding mother. I've lost any chance at apologizing and winning back the only boy that gave a shit about me.

She kicked a rock angrily down the street, sighing at the sheer magnitude of her despair. It wasn't completely her parents' fault that they had little to no knowledge about the impossible predicament that had been ongoing the past few weeks. For them, life went on as it had before with the semblance of stability returning once Bob returned to work. But for Helga, there was no solace in that anymore, just another reminder of how her own insecurity led her from fantasy to ruin in just a matter of seconds. And there was no one to blame but herself.

Clutching a handful of bills in her dress pocket (Bob hadn't really cared to count how much he was giving her) Helga supposed that going out somewhere was better than hiding out in her room and crying over Arnold. Though the tears had largely run dry (there was only so self-pitying could do and not become dehydrated) the blonde girl's unmitigated sadness had morphed to a kind of depressed apathy, mirroring that of her beloved.

Phoebe had done her best, even Gerald was sympathetic, but nothing the group tried budged Arnold's silence even slightly. If anything, it had made his hostility worse.

And this all led back to where she was now: hunched over, kicking rocks, on an errand to collect a giant hunk of meat. Oh, joy.

If she thought a mundane trip to Mr. Green's would take her mind off of Arnold, she was sadly mistaken. Almost the instance she entered the butcher's shop, she spotted her beloved exiting the vicinity with a large ham underneath his arm.

Criminy! The universe just loves screwing with me, doesn't it?

The horribly awkward walk around only served to make things worse, her face beet red by the time she walked up to the longtime deli owner.

"Hey there, Helga. What can I get ya today?"

Thankfully, Mr. Green didn't seem too interested in his customers' private lives, perfectly content to go about his own business.

"Yeah, uh Miriam needs one of the giant sausages, the Polish kind or whatever."

Mr. Green wrote down the order- "Coming right up" but he couldn't resist giving a small mutter as he went to fetch it.

"Is everyone sending their kids on a meat run today? Sheesh."

Helga could hardly blame him for that remark, in fact she felt the same way. Seeing Arnold only worsened that horrible empty feeling in her stomach. She would want no part of that sausage tonight.

Mr. Green returned fairly quickly with the gargantuan piece of pork, wrapping it up with his usual precision, though he raised a definite eyebrow after taking the money from Helga as he handed it to her.

"You sure can carry that? I can always cut it up if you want."

"No, thank you," Helga groaned, struggling to support the sausage that was nearly as tall her. If she weren't so down the scenario would have actually been quite comical. "I got it."

She used the hard slab to push her way out the door, ready to embark on what looked like a rather difficult journey home. That is, until a sound caught her ear. It sounded like a combination of choking and struggling, and it was coming from the side alley of the shop.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Helga dragged the sausage with her, peaking around the corner to a horrific sight.

"…take my change too. Just let me go."

"Oh, I'll be taking a lot more than that."

Clear as day Arnold was being attacked and mugged by some low-grade thug in a black hoodie. Even worse, he had just drawn a knife; a sure sign that this was beyond a normal robbery. The preteen was doing all he could to keep his breath and had little room to maneuver against the bigger adversary.

"This ain't your day, is it? Football face."

"Who are you?"

"It isn't going to matter in a few seconds. Just know you got what's coming to you."

As the knife moved closer to the vulnerable area of Arnold's throat, Helga's heart stopped beating for the smallest sliver of time as she fully digested what was going on. The sound barrier itself seemed to come to a dead silence….before it shattered to pieces with a scream that Helga barely recognized as her own.

Acting purely on instinct, she waved the sausage like a club, summoning strength previously unknown to her. With a mighty *THWACK, the makeshift weapon hit its target, walloping the would-be killer with such force he was knocked instantaneously, falling to the pavement in a crumpled heap.

Breathing heavily, she turned her attention to the blond she had just saved, the one that had done the same for her many years prior, blue eyes gazing into green ones, boy and girl sharing a private revelation. No words needed to be said.

That is, until Helga's senses returned to her and her speech became practically incoherent, dropping to her knees next to him.

"Oh my God, Arnold! Are you okay?!"

"Helga…"

"Are you hurt?! Did the knife get you?!"

"Helga, I'm fine…"

"You could have been killed! And I never would have told you how sorry I am and how much I care about you and-"

She stopped, realizing that her hands were currently cupped around his face, that beautiful football headed face she adored so much. Desire overwhelmed her senses as she kissed him square on the lips, long but soft, just like in the romantic dreams that visited her almost every night. In the most horrifying way possible, it had come true. The nightmare turned to fantasy and in that glorious moment, Helga could think of nothing but Arnold and it was all she needed.

Reality came crashing back to earth, however as a deep voice rang out.

"What in the blue blazes is going on here?"

Mr. Green had evidently heard the noise and was scratching his head in confusion. Quickly, Helga broke apart from Arnold, trying in vain to keep from blushing (the one she had just kissed did as well).

"I…uh…"

"You see…"

"I heard a scream louder than anything I've ever heard," he cut across them. "Wait a minute…"

He took a step closer, completely ignoring the awkward situation he had just walked into and took a hard look on the assailant, who had been surprisingly forgotten in the last couple minutes or so. Upon, inspection, the hoodie was down and revealed a familiar face.

"I don't believe this, Frankie G?"

That peaked Arnold's interest as the name of his former 'big brother' rang a bell. He knew the menacing voice sounded familiar.

"Wait a minute? That was Frankie?"

Sure enough, it was him, except there were several notable differences from the last time Arnold had seen him. Though knocked out, he noticed that his usual slicked back brown hair was longer and shaggier, his leather outfit replaced by a hoodie and a track suit. In addition, he was also missing a tooth due to the force of Helga's strike on the back of his head. Poking out from the hoodie pocket was also half empty bottle of Sambuca and several loose cigarettes. Not the suave image he once portrayed.

"Don't act so surprised, Arnold," Mr. Green said in disgust. "Frankie's been off the rails for a couple years now. That so called 'good boy' has had several run ins with the law- breaking and entering, illegal firearms, gambling, robbing transport trucks- I had to throw him out of my store once for reaching into the register when he thought I wasn't looking."

The butcher reached down to check for a pulse, while also grabbing the knife.

"He'll be out cold for a while. I'll call the police and make sure they know what happened here. Did he threaten you with this?"

Arnold nodded, still hardly believing the drunken, violent youth was Frankie.

I know he wasn't the most savory guy, but this?

"He did. And I think he would have used it if it weren't for Helga."

"Come on, let's get you up," Mr. Green said, pulling him to his feet. "Once the police get here, they can file a report of everything that just went on. Hopefully that means this punk will be in the slammer for a long time. Incredible that girl, she saved your life. She'll be a hero now."

But just as soon as he said those words, he began scratch his head.

"Wait a minute, where did she go?"

In the midst of the madness and confusion, Arnold hadn't noticed Helga had already departed and was nowhere to be found. Running a hand through his hair, the blond preteen felt like his head was going to explode, too many things were going on at once. An attempt on his life in addition to a kiss on the lips from the girl he previously thought hated him was too much to bear. He needed to time to think.

"I-I have to lay down," he said, light tingling still remaining from where Helga had kissed him.

"Good idea, Arnold. Just sit tight in my shop for a second while I get the police and notify your grandparents."

In contrast to the original purpose of the day, the meat lay on the ground, forgotten.

Well, there ya have it folks. A bit of fireworks. So when the smoke clears, what happens next? ;)

Find out soon! Next chapter will be up in August. I'm hoping to release two next month.

Rock on!

~The Wasp