Before she knew it, the charming guy vanished into the distance. After going inside, she just stares down at the square shaped item, before lumbering up to her bedroom.

She gently drops the box down and lowers to her soft rug, placing most of her weight on the soles of her feet. Arnold remembered my birthday, bought me a gift and sort of - kissed me?

Once literally shaking off the shock and Helga opens her present. The first thing she sees is a peach colored daisy resting on top of white wrapping paper, a note beside it.

Her eyes find a pink ribbon tied around the stem as she picks it up. I've been looking for this. Helga brings the daisy closer to her face; it tickles the skin on her nose.

Wait - She remembers his fingers in her hair and ignores the butterflies resting along her spine. Did he? Nah. The guys not suicidal.

Her fingers lift the card close enough to read.

Don't you even think it, I didn't steal it, Pataki.

Helga covers her mouth, snickering.

On my way home the thing smacked me right in the nose. I knew it was yours. And it got me thinking about when you found my hat and how relieved and happy I felt. I hope you're feeling something similar. Something tells me, it means a lot to you.

And the daisy, well, for some reason when I was walking by the flower shop when a small display of daisies caught my eye, I felt this impulse to buy it. I don't know why but I decided to just run with it. I hope that wasn't too cheesy. If it is, I hope you're getting a good laugh, even if it's at my expense I don't mind.

Helga pulls out the last item folded up at the base of the box.

She holds it up, a long sleeved baseball tee that says 'I Prefer my puns intended' and another handwritten note.

I spotted this while in the mall, and it made me think of you. Hope you like it. And in some small way this makes up for - well - you know. How does it feel to turn eighteen? We're all one step closer to independence. I don't know about you, but I can't wait!

Anyway, Happy B-Day,

Arnold

Helga grabs her phone seeing it blink. She sucks her teeth at another apology text from Phoebe. "I get it you had a commitment." Her eyebrows lower "It's not like you just dismiss the whole thing ...like some freaking awesome people I know."

She replies to the message and on accident clicks contacts. A feature not used often since she typically only calls Phoebe. And his name is one of the first she sees.

Her index finger taps her lip. I should... Nah not today, it's too late anyway. She rubs her temples as an overwhelmingness takes over on her.

And she puts it off and off for the rest of the week. In a not so subtle way, avoiding a confused Arnold. Her eyes would find Arnold like typically engulfed in a pleasant conversation except ever so often his eyes would skitter around. But she would duck out of the way.

At his locker, a glimpse of blonde hair catches his eye; though it wasn't her. I am Jack's sense of rejection. He lightly bangs his forehead on the rusty door, sighing.

But Arnold straightens up at the brash, full, guffawing bouncing off the walls as she retreats with her best girlfriend. For a couple of seconds, he instinctively chuckles and continues smiling, treads on his way out.

Arnold does a brief pace in the outdoor break area of Ernie Potts' wrecking crane. Where he always has part-time employment when an extra hand is needed.

Letting out a cleansing breath and pulls off the thick yellow gloves and rests on a truck tire. Arnold's chin rests on one hand; he had been working non-stop. Mr. Pots noticed and demanded him to take a break. Arnold straightens up to take a swig of water.

He runs his hands down the length of his face. God, I hate this relationship stuff sometimes. And I'm not even in one.

"Are you hungry, sweetie?"

He shyly grins as he looks up at Ernie's stunning wife, Lola. Then looks down when his stomach growls, embarrassingly right on cue. He chuckles and squints at her. "I guess you can say I am a bit hungry, thank you, Mrs. Potts." She hands it over, after patting his shoulder, she is about to go back inside. "Hey, Mrs. Potts?" She spins around, gracefully. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure thing sweetie."

He lays his elbows on his knees, peering timidly at her. His eyes drop to the ground. "Let's say your whole family forgot her birthday. And let's also say a guy you were dating or close friends with gave you a birthday gift. What if the gift was something simple. What would you think?"

Her eyes sprinkle as they ease over to the knee-high man. "Sometimes-the deceased receive more gifts than living because regret is stronger than appreciation. So it doesn't matter the quantities but the intent." Her gaze drops to the yellowed hair teen. "I'd think of it as a sweet gesture."

"Then why hasn't she said anything about it?" He rolls his eyes, not intending to say that.

"If the whole family ignored such an important milestone, it's safe to assume this is a reoccurrence." Arnold nods, thinking about her family, he can buy that. "She probably doesn't know how to respond, give her time. I'm positive she'll come around." Lola gently pats his upper back. "In the meantime, don't be hard on yourself." She elegantly struts away. He listens to her high heels clicking against the concrete while soaking in her words.

"Aye, kid! Aren't you supposed to be working?!" Arnold's eyes shoot up to a scowling man with a ponytail. He opens his mouth to respond, but another voice cuts in.

"Ah hush up Frank, I gave the guy a break."

"But-

"He's a good kid, whose gotten more done today than you." Ernie puts his hands on his hips and scowl etches. "Besides I'm the boss, now you get back to work!"

Arnold stares at the two men parting ways one who gives a death glare that makes him snicker under his breath.

...

Helga rolls her shoulders and relaxes in front of her mirror. She rests one hand on the back of her chair, then lowers down and up, completing several plies. Her eyes her lock on the board in front of her, containing a list of daily exercises. Before she could go into the next set Arnold's face pops into her head, clear and crystal-like image. That wry smile on directed at her. The hurt and question mark evident in his eyes.

What the heck is wrong with me?

Letting out blaring sigh of guilt, she knows for right now this routine is done deal. Her mind is swirling too much and gets her phone to scroll within it.

After clicking on his name, on their own, her fingers press the call symbol. Shit, it's ringing. What do I say? How about getting a grip?

Meanwhile, Arnold is strolling in his room basking in the aftermath of a shower; he notices the vibrating phone on the nightstand.

"Hello?"

Christ. "Hi...um."

"Helga." He reads the screen, blinking.

He hears her quiet, breathy laugh. "Yeah, yeah, it's me football head."

"How can I help you?" Arnold smacks his forehead. I sound like a geeky salesman. Why am I so nervous? He glances at himself. Oh, right I'm talking to Helga in a towel. He palms his face. It's not as if she can see me.

Her face scrunches up at hearing a bunch of scuffling, but it dies down after a few secs. "About the gift, I..." Spit it out. "S-Sorry I acted like a - it's just that, I'm not used to..." Heavily, she huffs at her inability to articulate. "but I do appreciate, the, you know, gesture..."

She hears him blow out air like he's relieved. "You're welcome," He pauses to chuckle. "I thought you..." He bites his lip. "well it doesn't matter. I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for calling me."

Helga has no clue how to carry a phone conversation with the guy she's pined forever for without resulting to hurling out insults. The silence is torturous. "So um, yeah I just wanted to say that because you didn't have to get me anything and you did."

Arnold is piecing together her words. So she was just overwhelmed. Mrs. Potts was right.

Helga closes her eyes, feeling enormously self-conscious due to the continuous quietness. "So I said it, I'll let you go."

"Wait... uh, I was wondering if one day you wanted to do something together?" His eyes shift to the calendar. "Over spring break?"

"Why?"

"Why..."

"Is there an echo in here? Yeah. Why would you want to hang out with of your archnemesis?"

She sighs at the raspy chuckles flowing through the speaker. "You're not that and besides ... I ... think you're fun."

*Crickets*

His eyebrows connect. "So... yes? no?"

*More crickets*

Helga drums her fingers mulling over it over. "Helga? Are you there?"

"Uh-huh..." She takes another break between words, to lay on her back. "Well, I don't know I did try to make plans for every day to keep busy."

"Oh." He doesn't do much to disguise his disappointment. "If you don't want to or are busy; it's cool."

It's Arnold, come on. "Um, I guess I can squeeze you in on one condition."

"What's that?"

Her gaze drifts around the room, in thought. "That you agree to a game of one on one versus yours truly."

He blinks, and both corners of his mouth curl up moving into a bit of a reverie.

"Hello!" Helga yells suddenly. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah...sorry."

He can hear her huff. "So are you in or out?"

"In."

"... sport? Your choice and better pick something good, or else."

He shakes his head, not even having to see her, to know a fist is dangling in the air. "Okay, let me know when you're free."

The next day, Arnold unlocks his phone instantly seeing a message.

Helga: So when are we doing this?

He sits on his couch to type out his response once he realized what she meant. Arnold: I'm free now.

Helga: K.

...Did you pick something?

For a second, he just strokes his chin, thinking. Arnold: How's b-ball sound?

Helga: (smiley emoji)

...It looks like I'll be basking in victory

Arnold: lol...w.e. you say

Helga: Exactly. Whatever I say

...I got a ball; I'll be in front of your house soon. Be ready!

Arnold: Okay

...

"So you ready to get your butt whooped?" Those are the first words he hears before even getting both feet out the door.

He peers down, and there's Helga in a purple jersey with her name on it dribbling a ball.

"Only if you are..." His mouth shifts into that little half grin that always caught her eye.

But she plays it cool watching level down to the sidewalk. "Loser, meaning you..." She winks subtly. "Buys food."

"Deal." He breathily laughs while shaking her hand. "I like pepperoni on my pizza FYI." Helga rolls her eyes, trying not to notice his arms as he folds up his sleeves. "I know that was just a warm up. I hope I didn't scare you." He winks back.

She grins, but it's more along the lines of being devious. Forcefully and unexpectedly she dribbles the ball to him. "Shut up and walk football head."

...

Helga leaps, clicking her high top heels together in the air. "Game over I won!" She gets close to his pouty face. "What?" She tosses the ball from one hand to another, cocking a brow. "Can't congratulate a girl?"

"Congrats," He licks his lips to form a derisive smile. "Even though I took it easy on you."

Her grin changes into a grimace. "Don't try that shit excuse. You didn't take it easy on me." She points at herself with her thumbs. "I'm greatest, and you know it." With that, she twirls around, facing the opposite direction of the hoop and nonchalantly throws the ball. She claps for her herself at the sound of a swish.

Arnold stands there amazed, watching her do a cocky strut. Yes, Helga is a spectacular athlete overall, he knew that.

But aside from her skills, he knows the other reason why she won. Her jersey kept dropping off her shoulder revealing her creamy skin. And every time he tried to play defense, it felt like sweet torture. Arnold might be a gentleman, but he's still a guy. And it didn't help while sweating a sweet scent of honey bounces off her.

He feels a pang guilt, after eyeing her less than innocently. He likes her and respects her. Thinking about her in such a way seems wrong. But then with a head tilt, he tells himself that it's only natural.

He didn't realize he'd blanked out until her harsh tone brings him back present.

"Aye dude, you coming or not! I'm starving!"

His blank face splits into a grin and picks up his speed to catch up with her. The two enjoy back and forth banter on a short voyage to fill their bellies.

...

Arnold's forehead creases at a long lasting burp. He's in disbelieve that such a noise comes from someone so lovely.

"You're excused." That earns a sneer and a dismissive hand wave. He never thought he'd be interested in a girl who belched, snorted and made that nearly endearing. His eyes rove over the pizza slices and bbq chicken wings on her plate. Those half-lidded eyes stroll back up to her face and in a close to cheeky way, he part grins. "I don't think you can eat all that Helga." He tilts his frame, looking her over. "You're too skinny."

"What?" She takes off her light jacket to show off her toned arm. "You call that skinny. That's eighteen years worth of athleticism, bucko."

At a close sight of her soft skin, he feels a twinge of heat crippling on his flesh. But he smirks through it. "Same here. But my opinion still stands."

Chopping down on her food, she rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say, Arnoldo." She does a head nod to the waitress. Her smirking eyes shoot to him then back to the woman. "I'm ready to order dessert."

...

Helga moans the whole way to her house. The fact is, she over did it, in an attempt to prove him wrong. Her stubborn, competitive, strike backfires in the form of a terribly aching stomach and dizziness.

Arnold smothers a snicker at her efforts to hide her discomfort.

At her porch, everything is spinning, making it easy to trip but is grabbed by the waist. Helga squeals and pushes his palm off. "You might want to double up or upgrade your deodorant."

He huffs behind her, putting his hand in his pockets. "Thanks, Helga, that's very sweet."

"Yep, I'm widely known for that..."

The door opens. It's pitch black, and Arnold squints. "No ones here?"

She flips the light switch. Arnold watches her plops on the couch. "I'm just gonna laying here on the sofa and sleep this off. It was good grub football head, see ya." She half haphazardly waves a hand.

His hands set on his hips, feeling useless. Suddenly his fingers snap. "I'll make some tea."

Once he came back into the living room with the mug in hand, freezes at hearing light snoring. Bingeing on a combination of carbs and sweets had that effect.

Should I wake her up? On impulse, he scoops her up and takes her upstairs.

After gently putting her on the bed and leans in to press his lips on her forehead. He backs up. "Feel better."

His eyes stay on her face, observing her brows furling as he tiptoes out trying to be quiet as possible. He shuts her door and jaunts down the stairwell.

His eyes widened as sheer terror invades his heavy-lidded moony expression.

Her dad, ah crap. He gulps and the big man's menacing eyes and gritted teeth.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house!?"

"You might remember me; I was over here a few days ago... I'm Arnold Shortman." He reaches out his hand, but Bob just deadpans, so he draws it back. "I live on Vine Street, Sunset arms and I grew up with your daughter."

"Sunset arms, oh yeah that nuthouse." He squints. "Aren't you too wet behind the ears to be a friend of Olga's."

"Not Olga, your other daughter, Helga."

"Oh, her." He replies with less emotion. "Aren't you too old for her?" He scratches his scalp, still frowning but more in a confused sort. "what is the girl, twelve or thirteen?"

"No, we're the same age. Eighteen, sir."

"Eighteen?" His eyes twirl. "When the heck did that happen?" Arnold just cocks his brows, wanting to make a snide remark. But the part of him that wanted to return home drama free decides to keep it to himself.

Plus he isn't positive Helga would want him involved in her family affairs. "Ah, fudge it, That still doesn't explain what you're doing here? what were you doing up there with her, alone in her bedroom?" He narrows his eyes menacingly. "Better not have done anything to get her knocked up! I demand an explanation now!"

Arnold's throat goes dry. "No, no no... I haven't done anything remotely close to uh..." His brain temporarily shorts. "I have a lot of respect for Helga, I've known her since preschool." He lowers his gaze and sighs after spotting that Bob still looks suspicious. He clears his throat to explain adequately. "We went out earlier, and Helga ate too much ice cream. As a result, she felt sick, so I brought her home. She ended up passing fall asleep, and no one was here, so I decided to take her upstairs." He swallows as his eyes shift to the cup. "I even made her tea, but she fell asleep before I could offer her. I promise that's all that happened, Mr. Pataki."

"Huh..." His face relaxes a bit. "you better be truthful. I won't have any daughter of mine parading around an unplanned baby." His eyes smugly move up and down Arnold. "What do you want a cash reward for your services?"

Arnold shakes his head. "No thanks, Helga's my... uh, friend."

"Friend eh... is that right?" Bob huffs when Arnold nods. "Alright, be on your way. I'm on my way out of town, and I'm not about to waste any more time chatting with an odd head kid."

"Sure..." He starts while pushing him out. "Oh, Helga might not be -" The door closed before he can finish. "feeling so hot..." He scans the street ahead. "Sheesh..." He takes a few steps down and beelines home.

The sun shining through her thin curtains wakes her up. She feels groggy from not resting well. But instant, she knows the house is bare. The absence of Bob's thumping and Miriam talking a mile a minute on her phone is evident.

She takes a dip in the shower and throws on something comforting.

The peacefulness lingers until the buzzer chimes. Helga rolls over and side glances at the clock. "Ah, who the hell...?"

Rubbing her face still as she opens the door, her muscles freeze, at a wild mane of yellow hair blowing in the wind. That friendly smile is beaming, those green eyes radiating a warmth but also shyly taking her in.

"Arnold?"

Arnold tucks his hair behind his ears, timidly looking her over. She notices a plastic bag balancing in his other hand. "Good morning," Finally, he breathes. "I uh, know it's weird for me to just pop up at your door, unannounced, again." He chuckles. "But I thought since you would need a good meal after last night?"

Helga stares at him wide eyed for longer than is comfortable and blinks. Her mind rewinds all her trips to the bathroom but shakes off the embarrassment. She isn't going to admit to any such emotion or give details of the nights' events. That definitely, falls under the category of TMI.

But with his half smile and that knowing look in his eyes, it didn't appear that she needed to anyway. Maybe she wasn't as good at disguising her feelings. Or perhaps Arnold is growing less dense.

She is half surprised an 'I told you so' line yet hasn't been spoken.

Helga steps back, glancing over her shoulder and wordlessly invites him in.

...

It's interesting, Arnold hadn't been over to her house in years. But he maneuvers around gathering utensils like a pro. They sat down at the table, hushed, consuming their food. Helga looks across at the same time lifting his gaze to hers, a tiny curl of his mouth. Her eyes droop to her plate, as she continues pushing the food around.

"I'm about to take Nova for a walk..." She paused a hesitancy in her voice. "You can come if you want..." She shrugs.

"Okay." Arnold smiles.

Helga jerks the leash when a pedestrian comes by, accidentally bumping roughly into Arnold. "She's a sweet dog, Helga." He says tightening his handle on her leash. "Real cute."

Helga snatches the leash. "She's nothing sweet! she's a vicious attack dog."

Arnold looks at Nova's tail wagging, her tongue hanging out and the way she walks right alongside Helga. He takes a glance at Helga and does a light-hearted eye roll. "Yeah, real vicious."

The three reach the park, specifically an area that was almost empty. And Helga kneels down and unhooks the chain, letting her go loose.

From Arnold's view on the bench, he watches them playing with exuberance. Watching her cheerful curve of her mouth and her laughter pouring out from her lungs so freely

He sees Nova leaps in the air, and Helga exaggeratedly stumbles to the grass with the pup licking all over her face.

When Helga beckons, and he realizes how much this view had been lacking in the past. Her scowls or glances of casual indifference had been a constant.

Even when he saw her walking alone in the past or from a distance at school behind her veil was a sullenness. And now jogging closer, he can tell this is cathartic for her. With that knowledge, of course, if she'll allow it, he'll do whatever it takes to keep her smiling.