"I never see anyone I recognize here. I would never have guessed you come here too." Behind long lashes, she gaps at Arnold sliding into the spot next to her.

It seems to take her a second to adjust to his presence. But when she does, she gives a dry once-over. "A wet blanket like you knows of a place like this? Yeah right. What did you follow me here?"

Excellent. Go in head first with an insult that'll reel him in. She does an unnoticeable eye-roll at her habits.

Arnold folds his arm, looking offended. "No..." He responds curtly, but a derisive smile curves. "I should be the one shocked. I assumed badass Helga G. Pataki would prefer somewhere dangerous." His shoulder inches closer to hers, with a crooked grin. "with bullet holes and graffiti." As the seconds go by with no reply, worry etches on his forehead.

What happened to the whatever you say, Helga line? "Uh easy shot," He could have sworn he heard a snort. "We can't all be a golden teen."

Arnold snickers and rolls his shoulders back, smirking. "Neither can I."

Helga blows out a breath, jokingly. "What have you ever done that the Brady bunch won't approve of?" His brows tighten as a memory comes to mind. It's like her nosey meter elevates. She has an idea of what Rhonda must feel 24-7 when it comes to any gossip. "Spill it..." She brings a fist up. "Now."

Arnold glances at that fist and rolls his eyes; following that up with a gentle sigh. "Okay," Looking around at the other customers, he moves towards her ear. "I've toked up one or two, maybe three times."

Helga's eyes enlarged as her mouth flies open. "You've smoked weed!?"

Arnold observes the few annoyed faces at her outburst. "Shh," he chides through laughter. "Yeah, I tried the first time two years ago with Sid, Harold, and Stinky."

Helga plops her head against the black cushion. "Shocking" She does an eye-roll. "I always knew those jokers would be a bad influence on you."

One of his brows rises. "No, I wanted to try it out so... it wasn't like a peer pressure thing." Helga, all wide-eyed, opens her mouth to speak, but Arnold beats her. "I'm not saying I got addicted to it or anything." He shifts to the back of the couch like her. "I was just curious, and I haven't smoked in a while."

"Sure, I believe you." She nods sarcastically, and a goonish smile spreads as she begins to whistle the melody to the song Mary Jane.

Once he recognizes what she's whistling his elbow connects with her ribs, making her yelp and laugh. "I should have known better than to tell you."

Helga returns the elbow jab and blows a raspberry when he huffs. Her eyes wander listening to his quiet, sarcastic chuckling.

Then, easing on, her expression blends with the mellow mood. "You know, I've been to uh... somewhat, wild." She smirks. "dangerous places especially when I was dating Rex." She shrugs. "But I don't know; there are moments where I prefer the quiet I get here." She prompts her kicks up on the small table ahead. "And it's cool beans that they let minors in because usually, only the twenty-one and over crew get dibs." Her slim fingers drum on her thighs and side glances at Arnold. "Remember I said I wasn't going to the cafeteria that day or the rest of the week? Well, this is where I come." Helga strokes her arms as her eyes brighten. "Thank the heavens for off-campus lunch, or else I'd go clinically insane."

"School's not that bad Helga." She gives him a look, so in reluctance, he caves a little. "But I understand why you would want to come here to get away from the cafeteria food." His half-lids take in their surroundings. "And it is peaceful. Personally, I'm in love with the music it's such a refreshing difference from what they play at typical high school parties. Not that the other type of music is bad, but sometimes it's nice to have something that helps you think."

Helga's mouth tugs up cheekily. "That dirty grinding stuff won't do that for you."

Arnold's skin reddens around his cheek area. "So, I like to come here every so often when things get a little too, uh...eccentric at home."

Helga hums. "Same. Except that's close to every day."

"Really?"

"I'm a regular." She smiles proudly and points to a tall, lanky man. "Slim always jokes that he'll start charging me rent."

Arnold grins and rests his jaw on his hand, gazing at her. "Granted I'm no regular, but I'm surprised this is the first time we've seen each other here." The band returns from their break and begins to play. The two teenagers listen. When the volume softens, Arnold moves his attention back to Helga. "Are you a jazz fan?"

"I wouldn't say a fan. But it's pretty decent." She peeks out of the corner of her eye. "Are you?"

Nodding energetically, he sits upright. "I'd say so. I've been a loyal listener for a long time. It's like an antidote if I ever have anxiety or get a hot temper, it calms me."

Helga quirks her eyebrows, "Yooouuu get hot tempers?"

"I'm capable of irrational emotions, Helga." He rolls his eyes. "I just prefer to hold back and be the bigger person. And this genre can help to unruffle nerves."

She slings her body back into the cushion. "Uh, I will admit, I have noticed it is a good muse for writing." She holds up her journal and taps the leather cover.

"A good muse..." He repeats with a tiny amount of amusement. "Ah," he smirks when she looks at him curiously. "So you do write in your spare time."

Helga dramatically rolls her eyes. "Give the football head a prize he found out something about little ol me."

"Hmm," His hum sounds sarcastic to her ears.

She glances at him with a suspicious brow raise but doesn't probe. "Don't get too geeked over there... I'm no Agatha Caulfield. Hell earlier I spent five legit minutes trying to remember how to spell 'qualified.'"

Arnold chuckles and smiles at her. "That's nothing I once spent an hour trying to remember how to spell 'the.'"

Helga laughs hearty, contagious and room filling, unlike some girls she does so with her whole self. Never seeming concerned with looking cute. "Okay, you got me beat there." He smiles listening to her cackles change into soft giggles.

He stays quiet until that wears off. "You might not be Agatha Caulfield. But I bet you're talented in your own right Helga."

Her cheeks brighten, and she turns attention to the guitarist, strumming a familiar riff.

Don't go overkill with the compliments. Arnold mentally instructs himself.

Her clearing her throat cuts off any other emerging thoughts. "So anyway, what kinds of eccentric stuff is going in your house?"

"Oh, uh, nothing out of the ordinary." He shrugs, trying to get his nervousness under control. "A private argument between a married couple, Oskar and Susie erupted into a massive blowout between other tenants." Arnold stretches his leg, squinting. "It happens all the time like clockwork. So I got impatient and left them to deal with it themselves." When he turns to Helga, shock and confusion, etched on her face. "What?"

"You, the great Arnold Shortman gave up and didn't save the day..." Says Helga in a grand over the top voice.

Arnold rolls his eyes but leaning his head to his right, the corners of his mouth upturn. "I guess I have brought that on myself." His head tilts a few times. "I love helping people, but sometimes I just feel like skating by without having to deal with it. I do feel kinda sorry for yelling at them." His chin levels to his knee, with a thoughtful expression.

Typical Arnold. "Y-You know ... I've always wanted to tell you for years that you put too much on yourself. You know, sometimes...it's okay to walk away. One person can't solve it all." She watches as his brows knit. "Or since Gerald always out chasing skirts." One of her brow quirks humorously. "Maybe you need to find someone trustworthy enough you can bounce ideas off of or something."

"You know what," Arnold turns to her, his lips parted, his heavy-lidded eyes grazing every area of her face. "maybe I do."

"Yeah." Her heart flutters as her eyes move away, squirming a feeble amount.

Arnold notices that unlike usual half of her hair is hanging down. "Your hair is so long." Before Helga could respond to his casual observation, he continues. "Didn't you cut it short not too long ago?"

Helga chews on her lower lip. "Uh, yeah I sometimes I grab some scissors and just chop it off. But ever since puberty hit my hair's been growing like weeds, so it always spouts back in a snap." Why does he want to know this?

His attention shifts to the blend of pink and purple on the ends. He reaches over and brings her silky strands between his fingers. "When did you do this?"

She looks down to what he's referring to, paying less attention to her tresses. He has amazing hands.

She notes how his nails look trim and clean while other areas look a bit coarse. To keep her breathing steady, she tugs her tresses out from his grasp. "Hey, keep your mitts off." She aimed for gruff but got airy. "A week ago," Her eyes narrow. "why?"

He shrugs. "Just curious. It looks..." His eyes shift to her face, noticing tiny freckles on her nose and her dark eyebrows that grow upturned. Aside from the recent party, he can't remember the last time he looked at her for so long and up close. His eyes lastly drop to her lips before darting back to her hair. She's beautiful. "It suits you."

As the silence rolls by, Helga mentally kicks herself for saying nothing. You can quit acting like you're unfamiliar with gratitude. She shoves two words out of her throat. "Gee, thanks."

Oh... He hums pleasantly then his mind replays what she said about being a regular here. "How are things at home, if you don't mind me asking?"

Her shoulders relax with her sigh. "Kind of how they've always been."

"Which means?"

Helga notices his patient but searching gaze. "For example…" She taps her chin, trying to find a way to explain her situation without revealing too much. "Tomorrow is, uh... a special day... and I was hoping it would be a family thing. But..." Her eyes lower as does her voice as she goes on. "I don't know; they must have forgotten because when I asked right before I came here, they told me all about their individual plans. It just slipped their minds so quickly."

Arnold frowns. In spite of her efforts to hide it, Helga's dourness doesn't go unnoticed. Does she mean what I think she does? He tries to think of words of comfort, but his brain fails him. Instead, all he can feel is anger and some bitterness. In the past, you noticed their negligence, but he always hoped it had improved over the years. "I'm sorry..." His words sound weak to his ears, but he couldn't think of anything else at the moment.

"It's nothing I'm not, I'm used to it."

His facial muscle stiffen. "That's the thing; you shouldn't be used to it."

"Look can we just... not talk about this anymore." Helga firmly reprimands with a pointed look.

Arnold's thin brows of his curl up as he does a nod. "Okay. Sorry."

Their eyes both search the opposite direction for some several silent moments.

"So.." They both say and face each at the same time. Arnold scratches behind his ear with a half smile. "You go first."

"Nah you," She insists and groans at his hesitance.

Helga's phone starts vibrating, rather annoyingly loudly before he could utter another word. "S-Sorry." She mumbles and as discreetly as possible answers. Minutes later, she hangs up and turns to Arnold. "Can we indulge in this convo some other time? I gotta run," she rubs the screen against her pants and takes slow steps back looking at him.

"Is everything alright?" He asks with sincere concern in his face and tone. She nods and shrugs. His bright eyes shift from the window to her. "Would you like me to walk you?"

Helga rests an arm on the railing next to their booth, deadpanning. "Football head cut the chivalry. In case you've forgotten, I'm Helga G. Pataki not some damsel in distress." Her expression softens some. "I'll be fine."

Arnold reluctantly nods. "Okay then, I'll see you."

"Later."

He watches her retrieving feeling conflicted.

At least I was getting somewhere with her. Arnold, optimistically he internally pats his back.

Arnold blows out a breath at seeing the last sight of her flowing out the door. Christ, who knows when the next time she'll be that open.

The next day, mid-evening, Arnold tugs at his collar holding a neatly wrapped box in his palm. Then sets it down on the middle step. He lifts his tense body to the top of the Pataki stoop. His fingers hover over the buzzer, but he balks all wide-eyed doubting himself. Shit, get it together.

A few questions plague his mind. How will she react? Will this get perceived by her as pity?

He pinches the space between his eyes.

Okay, I'm overthinking this, she'll open the door, and I'll give this to her. No biggie.

But still, he can feel little beads of sweat forming along his hairline. Never had he felt such stomach clutching nerves over such a simple act. Then again, raking his fingers into his locks, it dawns on him that anything centering on Helga is hardly easy.

His shoulders slouch as he turns to the opposite direction, but they stiffen at a clank and creaking sound.

He spins back around to see a pit bull puppy sticks his nose out from behind the wooden door. The little one sniffs frantically at the tiny crack. A half second later he hears a stern voice.

"Alright, alright Nova, you've given your greeting now skedaddle pooch..." The four-legged girl backs up, whining a bit. She comes forward, her hand pressing gently against the screen. And opens the door with her lips parted and her brows clinging together. "Arnold?"

Her hair is draped down her shoulders and back, a bit frizzy like she freshly washed it. Arnold's breath catches in his throat at her form-fitting white v-neck.

His eyes snap back to her hair, sheepishly grinning. "No bow?"

Helga blinks registering his words. Yeah, even as a high schooler she still ties her hair up with the ribbon in some capacity. Her hand comes to her hair. For a second her face looks entirely downcast. "I must have lost it somehow." She frowns and points towards the sky. "Criminy, it's so freaking windy the old flimsy thing probably flew right off."

"Yeah I know," He responds, looking out at the air and brushing some strands off his forehead. "I hope you find it." A grin tugs at part of his mouth. One of her brows rises in question. But Arnold speaks before she could at seeing the round snout sticking out behind Helga's leg. "I...I didn't know you had a dog."

A giggle escapes her before she could stop herself and lightly she kicks the pup back. "There's tons you don't know." She sighs, taking a glance over her shoulder. "I found her, hmm about a month and a half ago," A half smile splits. "Normally, when I open the door like that she barks like she'll eat the person alive. Usually, she hates strangers and males." Lazily she looks him over a hint of a smirk on her face. "But I guess she can sniff a goody two-shoes a mile away." Her gaze lowers, and she fiddles with her fingers. "You can always count on the little runts, to keep it real." Her eyes convey a little uneasiness for a second but resume her signature Helga G. Pataki glare. "Now enough small talk. Mind telling me what you're doing here...?"

Football head, He finishes for her in his mind on instinct. "Oh um," His gaze lowers, and he steps back to pick up the box, noticing how her eyes rounded out. "I remember how yesterday you talked about how your family made other plans. I mean... I know you said it was nothing but... I don't know... uh, I think it's a special day, and you should have something to make you smile or if it's lame get a good laugh." He sucks in a bit of air. "I came by earlier, but your dad was the only one here and didn't seem to want to be bothered..." Because he slammed the door in my face.

"That's a shocker..."

"Y-Yeah..." He moves some hair from his forehead. "so here I am."

"Here you are," Helga's eyes shift from his face to the item in his hand.

Inwardly, Arnold face-palms. Okay. No more speeches. "Here this is for you." Her fingers hesitantly receive it. "I hope you like it." His hands slide into his pockets, and his lip tugs up on one side. "But if you don't, you have free-will to deck me or whatever." He nods a few times, swallowing. "Yeah, so you can open it when you get inside or whenever." His eyes rove over her deer caught in headlights expression. Her facing him that way makes it difficult to think. So he can't stop himself from leaning down and dropping a short gentle kiss on her. "Happy birthday, Helga…"

You were right Buzzlightyearr;) Thanks for your review btw.