Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!
Ask. Ask him now, before the long silence becomes too awkward and you won't be able to do anything about it.
"So what is it?" Helga asks, not really looking at him in the eye. They're standing just outside Chez Pierre, but not in view of the window. Good, so they can't see us from in there, now we have some privacy.
"It's nothing, really. I just wanted to get you away from Phoebe and Gerald."
"I knew it."
Arnold smiles, but deep down his insides are tied up in knots. "Actually, that's not the only reason."
Helga looks up, heart suddenly beating faster. "Oh? Then why else would you drag me out here?" She clasps her hands together, unable to keep still.
"I wanted to ask you something." Two hearts are pounding, both not wanting the other to notice it. "It's about, uh…" Arnold trails off, not sure whether he actually wants to know or not.
"About?" Helga prompts, anxious about what he might say. When Arnold still doesn't answer, she says, "Come on Arnold, just spit it out."
"Alex."
Helga lets out a breath, she didn't realize she's been holding it in. "Oh…" she says, surprised that Arnold wants to ask about Alex at a time like this. "What about him?"
"Who is he, exactly?"
The way Arnold asked makes Helga think carefully about how she should answer. "He's…" she stops, suddenly at a loss for the right word. Arnold looks at her expectantly. "Um… he's my friend."
Somehow, hearing those words make Arnold even more confused. "Just a friend?" he prompts. "Not…anything more?" He cringes at how awkward he's beginning to sound.
"What do you mean by that?" Helga says defensively, brow furrowing. Oh, no. Don't tell me he thinks I actually like Alex. I know I'm kind of confused right now but still! It can't be that obvious. If this guy can't even see that I've been love with him for the past decade, how can he notice if I may or may not have feelings for another guy? She folds her arms crossly and waits for his answer.
"I mean," Arnold says, not noticing nor caring about Helga's change in mood. "You make it look like there's something going on. All those whispers and silent looks you two give each other. What about how close you stand next to each other? You two always look like there's some inside joke only you guys can understand." He can't help but let a hint of annoyance show in his voice, which doesn't help the current mood Helga is in. "Sometimes I just feel like telling you guys to get a room."
"That's an exaggeration!" Helga blows up and throws her hands up in the air. "We don't act that way. Number one; there's nothing going on between Alex and me. Number two; even if there was, it's none of your business, you football-headed freak. Number three; why should you even care? So what if I like him, huh? What's it to you?"
"It's everything to me!" Arnold bursts. Helga takes a step back, surprised at his anger. "I care because I don't want him anywhere near you! I care because I can't stand seeing him so close to you, not just physically but to your heart too." He remembers how they spent time together during the show. "I hate that I can't be there they way he is. I hate that I can't talk about the same things you talk about with him. I hate that he probably understands you more than I ever will. I don't even know how you two met! Were you ever going to tell me that story? Or were you going to save that for your wedding day speech—"
"Whoa, whoa!" Helga stops him, not bearing to hear anymore of this. "Wedding day speech? What the heck are you talking about, Arnold? What part of 'there's nothing going on between us' don't you get?"
Arnold stares at her blankly. "Was that the only part you heard?"
"Well duh, you were speaking so fast I couldn't understand a thing you said," she says and sighs heavily. "I don't know about you but all I heard was a mess of jumbled up words and mumbling. And a little screaming," she adds at the end.
Arnold takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. "S-so, you didn't hear what I said earlier?"
"When you were yelling your guts out? No." She looks at him suspiciously. "Why? What did you say?"
"Nothing," he says quickly, in a way glad that she didn't hear his sort-of confession. "Sorry I yelled like that," he adds apologetically.
"Me too," Helga says after a short pause, letting it slide. "I guess we're both just tired so we can't really think straight." I really don't want to talk about this anymore. She tries to smile, but Arnold notices that it doesn't reach her eyes.
"Yeah, I guess so," Arnold agrees, not wanting to dwell any further on it. "Um, let's go back in, we haven't ordered yet, and I remember Gerald saying he's starving."
"Oh, I think he forgot about his hunger when Phoebe stepped into the picture." Helga chuckles and starts walking towards the door. She stops when she notices Arnold isn't following her. "You coming or what?" she turns and asks.
"You go first. My shoes are untied," he lies.
"No, they're not," she says immediately, without even looking at his feet to make sure.
"How do you know?" Arnold gives her a suspicious look, a smile playing on the edges of his lips.
Helga's words get stuck in her throat. I can't say 'because I notice everything about you, idiot' now can I? She scoffs, rolls her eyes and says, "Never mind." She turns around and heads toward the restaurant's entrance. "Just go 'tie' your shoes then," she says over her shoulder with the most sarcastic tone she could muster, smiling just a little bit.
Arnold watches her go back into Chez Pierre, then takes a deep breath once she's inside. He takes a walk with his hands shoved into is pockets, slowly passing by the fountain in between Chez Pierre and Chez Paris. He stops and stares at the spurting water, reflections of the lights around him dancing in the ripples at the base of the fountain. You made her mad. You yelled at her. What decent guy would do that? What girl in her right mind would go for a guy who does that? Arnold sighs in frustration and massages the bridge of his nose. At least I apologized. No, that's not good enough. I need to do something to make up for it. Deciding this, he slowly walks back into Chez Pierre, all the while thinking of a way to get back into Helga's good books.
Helga stares at the plate of food in front of her. "Hold on," she says and looks from one person to another at the table. She finally stops at Phoebe and gestures towards the plate. "I'm pretty sure I haven't ordered anything since I got here." She raises her eyebrows in question, mouth turning into a slight frown.
"Well," Phoebe begins with caution, not wanting Helga to lose her temper. "The waiter was here to take our orders while you and Arnold were talking outside—"
"I wasn't going to wait for you guys to come back to order, so we did it for you," Gerald steps in, saving Phoebe from Helga's imminent fury. "It was either we ordered for everyone or we don't order at all. I think I mentioned several times how hungry I am, so did you really think we were going to wait? I don't think so."
"So ordering this was…" Helga gestured to her bowl of chicken and mushroom soup.
"My idea," Phoebe says. "I looked at the menu and didn't think you liked any of the other choices, so I ordered that one."
"It was either her or me," Gerald steps in again. "If it were up to me I would've ordered the cheapest thing on the menu for you, so be grateful." He digs into his food, clearly too hungry to care whether it tastes good or not. Everyone else at the table shares an amused look – save Helga who gives a look of distaste – and starts eating their food as well.
"It's about time," Gerald suddenly says, causing the remaining three to look up from their plates. Arnold just stepped back inside, his face calm and eyes tired. "What took you so long?"
"I was tying my shoes," he says with a shrug. Helga's eyes dart to his face, narrowed. Arnold pays no attention.
"Tying your shoes or making another pair of them? Took you long enough," Gerald says, raising an eyebrow.
"Just shut up and eat your food," Arnold says tiredly and looks at the plate in front of him. "Is this supposed to be mine?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "I'm pretty sure I didn't order anything…"
"Oh, here we go again," Alex grumbles. "Gerald got too hungry so he ordered for you and Helga because he just couldn't wait anymore." With Alex's single sentence explaining everything, Gerald just nods approvingly in his direction and says, "That's pretty much it."
Arnold, not having anything to complain about regarding the food on his plate, shrugs and digs in.
Helga scoffs and says under her breath, "Boys and their food."
Alex, having heard her say that, glances in her direction and smirks. If only you knew to what extent guys would go to get any kind of food. "This place should sell sandwiches," he says absentmindedly after a few minutes, playing with his fork. "This is supposed to be like a bistro, right? Shouldn't they have it on the menu?"
Helga and Phoebe look at him with a strange expression on their faces. "I suppose…" Phoebe says uncertainly.
"Why does it matter?" Helga asks. The three boys stop eating and look at her incredulously. "What?" She looks around the table in confusion, feeling like she said something almost criminal.
"Sandwiches are everything. Full stop," Gerald says, with nods and murmurs of agreement from Arnold and Alex. Helga and Phoebe exchange glances and they shrug; this is just something girls will never understand about boys.
The five people at the table continue eating, but every now and then Arnold and Helga would glance at each other, actions not missed by Phoebe, Gerald and Alex. They decide to brush it aside at first, but after awhile it looks like something fishy is going on.
"I don't mean to be a busy body or anything—"Gerald says about halfway into the meal.
"Then don't," Helga cuts in, giving him a look and a cynical smile.
"Did something happen out there?" he continues, ignoring Helga and directing the question straight at Arnold. Helga's fingers tighten around her spoon, and Arnold looks up from his plate innocently.
"Like what?" he asks, trying to sound as clueless as possible.
"I don't know," Gerald says speculatively and eats another spoonful. "What were you guys talking about?"
"It's none of your concern," Helga steps in, saying it casually and without expression. "Well, if you must know…" she says when Gerald starts to open his mouth again. Arnold looks at Helga, surprised and alarmed. "He wanted to save you and Pheebs from my interrogation session." Phoebe and Gerald's eyes grow wide. "But since you brought it up—"
"Well now, let's not waste all this time talking when we could use it for eating this yummy food," Gerald interrupts her and stuffs his mouth with another spoonful. Phoebe nods enthusiastically and looks down at her plate again in silence. All Alex does is sit and watch, smiling at how comical this is turning out to be.
Arnold relaxes; for once glad Helga knows how to deflect a conversation away so well. She catches his eye and smirks triumphantly before resuming eating her meal.
"Well, I can't say tonight has been boring," Helga says while all of them are walking back from Chez Pierre.
"Oh, I'd say so too," Phoebe mumbles quietly, holding tightly onto Gerald's hand as they walk side by side. Gerald smiles, resisting the urge to give her a soft kiss right there and then.
Watching them from behind, Arnold feels a swell of happiness for his best friend. He finally got the girl he's been dreaming of. He sighs as he sees Helga walking up front with Alex. He can't hear what they're talking about, but from the looks of it, it's something that makes her happy.
"It reminds me of Hyde Park," Alex tells Helga as they walk past the park. She looks to her left and sure enough, the dim streetlights that line the gateway illuminate the area, evoking memories of London from Helga.
"I've never seen it that way before," she says, slight awe in her voice. "I actually miss that place."
"Hyde Park?" Alex asks, unsure of where she's referring to.
"The hotel," Helga corrects him, and gives him small nudge.
Alex smiles in spite of himself. "Gee, I wonder why…"
"Gee, how about I take it back?" Helga threatens, but has a light-hearted tone in her voice. A short silence fills the air as they continue walking, lost in their own thoughts. "I'm sorry about this morning," she says quietly, looking down at the pavement. "You know, about how I acted and greeted you and your family," she pauses, thinking a moment before adding, "And what I said before I left."
"It's okay." Alex's voice is subdued, as if remembering the events of this morning is painful, which to him is, because he genuinely thought Helga saw him as more than a friend. I guess I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Who would fall for someone they just met? Oh right. Me.
"Alex?" Helga's voice penetrates his thoughts. He nods and murmurs in acknowledgement, not daring to look at her in case his eyes give away what he's thinking or how he's feeling. "I don't know how long you're gonna stick around, but I hope we can work out this friendship. You know, so we won't just lose contact when you leave."
Hearing the word 'friendship' almost kills him, but he keeps a cool exterior, not intending anyone to see how wounded he is by her words. "Yeah," he says, voice a bit shaky but covers it by clearing his throat. "It's not going to be a long stay, so I guess we should just make the most of it, huh?" He turns to her for a brief moment to smile, then looks forward again. A second longer and she would've noticed something wrong in his eyes. They wouldn't have the same sparkle she remembers seeing two years ago, or this morning, even. They'd just be empty.
Without anyone realizing except Phoebe and Gerald, Helga's house appears in the distance; it's time to say goodbye. "Look's like we're here already," Phoebe says, pulling the remaining three from their thoughts. Arnold feels a small stab of pain; he still needs to do something to make sure he and Helga are still good. They stop in front of her door and share a silent moment together. No one says it, but they all know what each other is thinking; they don't want to put a stop to tonight. It's just one of those times where all you want to do is stay with friends and be around people, not by yourself at night and have time to think over what happened throughout the day.
"It was nice to meet you, man," Gerald finally says and extends a hand towards Alex. He takes it and they shake hands firmly, sharing a moment of eye contact. In that moment, Alex knew. Gerald could sense how he feels about Helga and he isn't very happy with the idea, especially when his best friend feels the same way about her. But he doesn't give Alex a glare; just a look that says, "I hope you know what you're doing, because in the end one of you is going to lose and I hope for your sake you back out before it's too late." Alex doesn't know how he could get all of that from just one look, but he knows deep in his gut that that is what Gerald is thinking. The problem is, it might already be too late. Arnold or no Arnold, he can't help what he feels towards Helga.
Gerald could tell that this guy isn't going to back down. Good luck, Arnold. Let's just hope Helga loves you more than him.
"Bye Helga," Phoebe says, feeling uncertain of whether leaving her now would be a good idea. Helga's tight smile tells her that she would be okay; they can talk about this tomorrow. The new couple turn to Arnold, expecting him to say his goodbyes before they leave in the direction of Phoebe's house next.
"You go ahead, I'll catch up in a minute," Arnold tells Gerald and Phoebe, who nod in understanding and leave. He glances at Helga briefly, and directs a meaningful look to Alex.
He gets the message. "I'll go in first and let my parents know I'm back," Alex says and slowly walks inside, despite how much he doesn't want to leave those two alone. He hesitates before closing the door and contemplates leaving it open, but is forced to when Helga says, "Don't leave the door open, it'll let in a draft." He leans against the door frame for a moment, feeling emptier than ever.
The next thing she knows, Helga is standing face to face with Arnold on her front porch, by herself. She doesn't know what's coming, but she's scared of what it might be.
Of what might come out of Arnold's mouth.
(The last time I updated was exactly two months ago.)
Okay, this is WAY overdue, and I'm so incredibly sorry about that. I perfectly understand if no one bothers to read this anymore, and for those who still do, I am eternally grateful. I have no proper excuse, except that life got in the way, but that's not very acceptable now is it? :/
Sorry again, and I do hope you guys who read this enjoyed the chapter. I know it's a cliffhanger, but hey; that's how I roll. It gives people something to look forward to.
Also, thank you for all the reviews and favouritings and chapter alertings! (I know those aren't real words, ignore that.) I really appreciate it, they just put a smile on my face. :)