"We're not going to lose this competition to some orphan -"

Helga gasped loudly, briefly glancing in Arnold's direction and feeling her heart break at the pained look on his face. Every piece of her wanted to scream at her father of his unbelievable insensitivity, but she knew that making even more of a scene would make Arnold feel worse, so she bit her tongue and made a move towards him. He just shook his head, his shoulders slouching as he turned away. Despite the fact that Helga figured Arnold wanted to be alone, she wouldn't allow it.

She hurried after him, but before she could take two steps, she felt a strong hand seize her arm, halting her in her path. She turned to face the man that she hated with all her being, setting a ferocious glare at the beady eyes of her father. "Let go of me, Bob."

"Hey! Don't take that tone with me, little lady, you want to win that trophy, don't you?" he demanded in his harsh voice.

Helga's voice was low, laced with loathing. "Not with you, you sorry excuse for a human being. Now let me go." She wrenched her arm free and ran away from her father, who was frozen in his spot, surprised by the hatred on his daughter's face.

"Arnold!" Helga called out, stopping the football-headed boy in his tracks. "Arnold wait!"

Arnold's voice was quiet, resigned, and tired as he said, "I'm not really in the mood for company right now, Helga." He looked over his shoulder with saddened eyes. "I just want to be alone."

Helga shook her head, taking hold of Arnold's limp shoulders and turning his body to face her. "No dice," she answered simply.

The boy sighed, shaking his head. The beginnings of tears pricked the corners of his eyes. "Please, Helga..." His body sagged, his head hanging in hurt and shame.

"Nope," she said bluntly, forcefully pulling him into a light hug. He didn't respond, just letting her hold him as he stared at something just over her shoulder. A part of him wanted her to let him go so he could think, (he wasn't very good at concentrating when Helga was around), but another part of him never wanted her to let him go for anything. This part of him amplified when she whispered in his ear, "I'm not leaving you. That you can count on. I love you, and as long as I'm with you, you'll never be alone. I won't allow it."

Before he could stop it, a quiet sob escaped Arnold's lips, and he wrapped his arms around Helga's thin frame. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, his lips pressed harshly together to prevent any more cries from sneaking out. He had been lying when he said he wanted to be alone; he desperately wanted her company, but he didn't want her to see him cry. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, burrowing in to escape the hurt her father had caused.

"Arnold, I love you so much... I don't know what happened," (she didn't elaborate on what she was talking about, but Arnold understood plainly), "and I would never force you to tell me, but I do know one thing: your parents love you, just as much as I do. You are kind, good-hearted, compassionate, empathetic, and you deserve the world. You make my life worth living; you're my muse, my soul, my rock. You keep me grounded, and you make me feel loved in a cruel world, and for that, all I can do to thank you is give you my heart. I belong to you, and I will never leave you." She took a deep breath, trying to mask the fact that Arnold's tears, (which she felt soak through her pink t-shirt), made her eyes want to water, as well. She would never disrupt her mourning, but she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep it together. "I bet your parents were just as perfect as you are, Arnold, and they loved you with all their hearts -"

Arnold pulled back, seizing Helga's face in his hand and smashing their mouths together. His lips were desperate for her love; the desire to be as close to her as possible controlling his movements. He could taste the salt of tears, (he assumed they were his own), his lips were firm, but also very sloppy, and his nose kept bumping against hers, but the kiss was perfect. He had never felt more connected to her in all his life.

When he pulled back, he was surprised to see that Helga's face was twisted, her eyes squeezed shut and her top lip chewing on her bottom. She was silently crying, and Arnold's breath hitched at the very sight. As he brushed a thumb under her eye to catch a tear, his already aching heart clenched with the pain and anger at having made her cry.

At his touch, Helga's eyes flickered open, a deep rich sadness quirking them in a strange way that Arnold had rarely seen before. His voice was just above a whisper as he said, "Oh, Helga... please don't cry..."

Helga cupped his cheek, stroking his cheekbones and smearing his tears into his skin. "I hate seeing you in pain, Arnold," she said in a shaking voice. "I can't stand it, and I'm sorry -"

Arnold shook his head roughly at the very thought of Helga blaming herself for her father's misdeeds. "Listen carefully, Helga: it isn't your fault. Your father was the one who said..." he let out a breath, "said that I'm an... an... orphan..." This last word was spoken so quietly that Helga hardly heard it, but it made her heart break all the more. And what made the situation worse: she wasn't sure she could counter it. "I know you would never do that to me." He gently placed his free hand over her heart, feeling the pounding through her shirt. "You're too kindhearted, and I know you love me too much. I love you, too. With all of my heart, I love you, and I never want you to leave me." There was a beat of silence before Arnold's quiet voice asked, "Will you come home with me? I... I don't want to be alone."

Without hesitation, Helga nodded, trying to smile at him. "Yeah, I guess so. There isn't much you could do to make me go away now, Football Head."

For the first time since Helga's father insulted him, a small smile spread across his face. "Thanks, Helga."

Helga grinned at him, wiping the tears from his cheeks before taking a step back and lacing their fingers together. "Come on, my love. Let's go find your grandparents and we can go home."

Arnold's heart fluttered at the fact that she called his house 'home', and he nodded. "Whatever you say, Helga."