Everyone changes with time. A day, a week, a month, a year... they all count. So how much can a group of rag tag 4th graders from P.S. 118 change with junior high, high school, and a whole bunch of history between those seven years? A whole lot.

Years Later

Just Not My Day

It was a Friday, the 17th day of September. It was the day of the Spartan football team's interview and it was also the day that the rain decided it wanted to shower Hillwood with its naturally gift, treating the land a down pour worthy of a spring storm while it drenched Helga with water; fortunate for the land, unfortunate for Helga, who was caught outside without an umbrella or a jacket. Nope, Helga didn't even have her knapsack, which sat all nice and cozy on her warm bed at 1422 L Street. In fact, Helga pretty much had nothing to protect herself, or her hair, against water that was being ceremoniously dumped on her.

She had woken up too late and had no time to grab a jacket, all she brought was her homework folder, which thanks to the rain, was now thoroughly drenched. Helga dropped Hilda to school, signing her in with Mrs. Hayes, the director of the early school club. When she came outside of P.S. 118, the rain immediately began to pour, and then she missed her bus. She was wearing her 'Siht' white wife beater with her red and black plaid skirt, neither of which protected her from getting soaked… and then let's not forgets that Helga was fairly sure that because of the rain, people were getting a free glimpse at her lacy black bra. The only good news was that her knee high leather combat boots kept her feet from getting wet.

Everything else, Helga thought to herself as she reached Ellendale Road, an indication that Helga was three blocks away from school, sucks.

Helga had just sneezed when she felt something being draped over her shoulders. It smelt like leather and whole bunch of stuff that Helga could only identify with one person… well to be straightforward, it smelt like Sid. She looked to her right and saw Sid walking next to her in a black t-shirt and jeans sans his typical black leather jacket.

"Hey."

"Hi there Helgs."

Helga ignored the annoying nickname; she didn't even have the patience to become impatient and annoyed enough to hit Sid. "Thanks for the jacket, Siddy." She said tugging on the leather jacket on her shoulders with her free hand; the other hand was busy holding her soggy homework folder.

"No problem." Sid draped his arm over her shoulders. "As long as you know, you're paying the cleaning bill, and stop calling me that horrible nickname."

"Right, since you're so nice as to stop calling me Helgs?" Helga snorted. "So why are you out here?"

"When you didn't answer your cell, we got worried." Sid said, not even bothering to elaborate who the 'we' were considering that it was an understood fact that 'we' consisted of Sid and Phoebe. "Actually I got worried and Phoebe went all crazy and shit, then ordered me to go out and find you." Sid cringed. "She can be very scary when she wants to. Very, very scary."

Helga nodded her head in understanding, "Trust me when I say, I know. Never ever, ever mess with her C.D. collection. I still have nightmares about what happened… I swore I saw her head do a complete 360 degree turn. I had to call an exorcist before she started spew green goop."

Sid smirked. "Did you do the Spanish homework?"

"Why."

Sid smiled sheepishly, "I need to copy it."

Helga opened her wet folder and pulled out a waterlogged piece of paper. "Sure, as long as you can read soggy."

(Y/L)

Sid and Helga walked in their Language Arts class fourteen minutes late. They would have only been seven minutes late, but they had a run in with Principal McNielson, who yelled at Helga for wearing a jacket inside school, a conduct strictly forbidden in school rules manual under Section 4 article 6, to be exact. Never mind the fact that Sid constantly wore a jacket inside of the school whenever he got the chance and no one ever yelled at him. When Helga finally gave in and removed the jacket, the principal ordered her to put it back on. After further inspection Helga and Sid both realized the reason why.

No principal wanted to be blamed for the fact that a young female was walking around the school with a transparent shirt wearing a black lacy bra underneath it. Something about that just did not scream Principal of the Year Award.

Both wet, Helga being just a bit more than Sid, they left a distinct trial of water wherever they walked in Room 204.

"Look what the cat dragged in." Kamelia said as Helga passed by her, it seemed like she was still mad about the comment Helga had made at the diner the other day.

Helga said nothing, instead she took her customary seat in the last row next to Phoebe, while Sid sat next to her, sitting behind Arnold. Luckily for Sid and Helga, their first period teacher was Mr. Simmons. They both watched as the man took attendance and did not even bother to mark them as late.

"Helga."

Helga looked at a very disgruntled Phoebe, "Yea?"

"How come you didn't answer your phone?"

"I was running late and forgot it. I just hope Patty doesn't call to make any schedule changes."

"You have other problems to worry about."

"Wha–?"

"Can all Sparta Staff members and Spartan football players involved with the newspaper interview report to the cafeteria, now please." Mrs. Bernheimer, also known as the nice secretary in the front office, said over the PA system. "I repeat, can all Sparta Staff members and Spartan football players involved with the newspaper report to the cafeteria, now please. Thank you."

Helga could see Harold, Arnold, Gerald, and Sid rise from their seats, from the corner of her eye. Phoebe and Helga followed their lead, and also got out of their seats. When they were all about to leave the classroom, Helga saw Lila, Rhonda, Kamelia, joining their boyfriends, with Nadine and Kaylia following their idea. Helga turned around and glared at the five girls. "And where do you think you're all going?"

It seemed like Kamelia was the one carrying the one brain that they shared today because she was the one that answered. "We are going to the interview." The girl shot Helga a nasty look and Helga returned it by a tenfold.

"No, you're not."

Now, Nadine decided to speak up. "And who are you to stop us?"

"Let's see... hmmm. I'm the Chief Editor of Sparta and what I say, goes... So how about that?"

"Fine so how about we ask Mr. Simmons." Lila turned around and flashed Mr. Simmons a pretty and innocent smile. "Can we please go to the interview?"

Mr. Simmons closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with only one thought floating through his mind. It's going to be one long school year. "I'm sorry, but that decision rests in the Chief Editor's hands. Like Helga said, what she says goes. I only act as the advisor."

Lila focused her glare on Helga, who had a very smug smile gracing her face. "Bu-bye, I've got an interview session to supervise, because I am the Chief Editor." With that said Helga left Room 204, sensing the all too familiar feeling of daggers being directed at her back as she swaggered out into the hallway.

Phoebe snickered into her hands as she looked up to see the broad self satisfied smile on Helga's face. "Why do we, or more so you, get into so many petty squabbles with them, again?"

Helga shrugged, "I dunno, we've just simply hated each others guts since junior high and this extends to you because you're associated with me. But it doesn't matter to me because I think they're all dumb bimbos, with the exception of Kaylia, she's smarter than she pretends to be."

"I think you're forgetting the fact that winning arguments against them make you very happy. I can see by that smile that your day has definitely been brightened."

"More than you'll ever know."

"Then, I'd hate to the bearer of bad new, but we've got a problem."

Helga and Phoebe walked down the back staircase, the closest staircase located near the school cafeteria. "Which is?"

"Sheena is suffering from food poison. She tried to call you earlier to tell you on your phone, but because you decided to be a dumb blonde, you left it home, so you obviously didn't pick up."

"Oh, crap."

"Yea, that was my sentiments exactly."

"No, no, crappy, crap. She had added some specific questions and changed some of her questions for her group and I don't have the final copy of that."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am."

Phoebe and Helga walked through the cafeteria's opened wooden doors, passing by a waving Eugene. They both absentmindedly waved back at the red head as they continued to walk deeper into the cafeteria.

On the right side of the cafeteria, Thaddeus "Curly" Gammelthorpe ("Just call me Tad, please!"), the newspaper photographer was setting up with a backdrop borrowed from the school's drama club. Helga could hear him grumbling about the awful rainy weather ruining his work. He was supposed to take the photos outside of the football field, but obviously because of the rain he couldn't.

To the left, there were five tables with six chairs around each of them and two tables with three chairs each.

"Well Sheena said that she emailed the questions to your school e-mail account yesterday."

"Yea, she did." Helga lightly hit her head. "I completely forgot about that. I guess I'll do the interview for her... Pheebs?"

Phoebe looked at Helga warily, she knew the tone of voice Helga was using. It was that same tone that convinced her that a belly button ring would look nice on her, especially since it was a buy one get one half off at Piercings 'n' Things. "Yes?" Phoebe asked hesitantly.

"Could you go and print it out from the library? You already know my password, right?"

Phoebe sighed in relief, so maybe she did not know that tone. "Yup. It's no prob–"

"And do you have the history homework? I sort of didn't fill out the packet."

Scratch that, Phoebe knew that tone of voice. "Sure, I'll give it to you during third."

"Thanks. You're the best."

Phoebe said nothing, she just waved off the 'thanks' as she walked out of the cafeteria, heading towards the library.

Helga looked around the cafeteria was being prepped for the interview as she tried to remember exactly what group she had been assigned to interview. As if the world had turned into a daytime television drama, right on cue Sid entered the cafeteria with Wolfgang walking next to him, while Helga's face dropped, and her pale skin, just got paler.

"Crappitty, crappy, crap." Helga began to recall her ingenious plot. She had set up the interviews so that Sheena would be interviewing Sid— both of whom had large crushes on the other but were too slow to pick up the signs that they were sending each other.

Sheena probably just got sick on purpose, just so she could avoid interviewing Sid, Helga thought maliciously as she realized exactly who she would be stuck interviewing, but somewhere deep down in her mind, behind her thick skull, Helga knew that Sheena would never do that. Sheena was one of Sparta's best reporters, which is the exact reason why Helga had assigned the specific job of interviewing The Golden Ones.

Arnold "Golden Boy" Linshaw—The Golden All-American Quarterback.

Gerald "99 Yards" Johanssen—The Golden Running Back Who Made a 99 Yard Play to Score a Touchdown in His Freshman Year.

Sid "Pretty Boy" Gifaldi—The Golden Receiver Who Has Massive Amounts of Fan Clubs That Worship the Ground He Walks On.

Harold "Beady Eyed" Berman— The Golden Unstoppable Defensive Lineman.

Wolfgang "The Wolfman" Caldwell—The Golden Vicious Defensive Lineman.

From the way she could feel her brain freeze and body revolt, Helga knew she had officially entered the last bowel of Hell. She saw as Eugene pointed Arnold, Harold, and Gerald towards the station that was supposed to be Sheena's, but now was hers instead. This really just isn't my day, is it?

"Well... this is just crapadelicious."

Helga heard someone sigh, when she turned around she was facing one pouting Sid Gifaldi standing next to one smirking Wolfgang Caldwell.

"Is that how you feel about me Helgs? I thought you and I were friends... if not lovers?" Sid pouted putting a hand over his wounded heart and leaning on Wolfgang for support.

"Shut up Sid," Helga pushed Sid's arm off of Wolfgang and amusedly watched as his arms went flailing in the air reaching for something to keep him from falling. Unfortunately, he didn't, and soon Sid found himself unceremoniously sprawled on the cafeteria floor.

Helga found one side of her mouth curving upwards as it twisted into a smirk while she looked down at the not so pleased golden Spartan receiver. "Now get up and go sit in a chair, that's what they're for, sweety."

Hastily, Sid got up from the ground as if he just realized that the floor of the Crinshaw cafeteria was infected with a many diseases. He dusted imaginary dirt off his jeans as he made his way to the set of chairs surrounding the round table. "So now I'm Sweety, eh? I always knew you would succumb to my charms one day." He lightly slapped Helga on her butt. "Now be a good girl and come and sit in daddy's lap."

Helga automatically returned Sid's kind gesture, but thought it was better to deliver it somewhere else. "Sid, sit!"

Sid winced and held the sore spot that formed on the back of his head as he sent Helga a look of indignation, when Helga returned the look with a raised eyebrow, as well as a raised hand, Sid mysteriously found himself sitting in on of the seats in front of the blonde female. "Ow."

"Stop complaining you baby!" Helga stuck her tongue out at Sid, revealing the blue ball and pin on her pink tongue. "And I'm glad it hurt, you complainer!"

"Now, who says I was complaining… you know how much I love it when you abuse me." Sid crooked a finger and beckoned Helga to him. "Now c'mon over here, I just want to play."

Helga rolled her blue eyes towards the cafeteria ceiling before fixing Sid with a look that said she was half amused, a quarter annoyed, and a quarter bewildered. "How do you manage to make everything sound so dirty?"

Sid shrugged his shoulders lightly. "It's a talent. Now," Sid pulled Helga close to him, having her stand in between his legs as he sat in his chair and patted his lap. "Let's play."

Once again, Sid found himself being on the back of his head. "Do you mind, I have to conduct an interview soon?"

"Yea I do mind, you keep hitting me! Do you realize you have rings on each of your damn fingers, woman!"

"Do you realize that if you weren't acting so moronic, I wouldn't have to hit you with my hand that has fingers that have rings on them, man?"

"You're no fun." Sid said as a pout settled onto his lips.

Helga leaned forwards so that she could whisper into Sid's ear. "Yea, but maybe later you and I could have some... fun... hmm?" She blew into his ear before moving her lips so close to his ear that they were touching it. Helga lowered her voice to insure that no one could hear what she was about to say, "Whipped cream or chocolate, or maybe both? Or would you rather have me call Sheena, she'd probably be much more fun to play with. Right?"

With a quick peck, which half landed on his mouth and the other landed on his cheek, Helga threw a subtle wink she moved away from Sid, who so happened to resemble the color of the guitar she called Cherry Swirl. She saw the eyes of the other members of The Golden Ones, as they sat quietly sat on the hard plastic cafeteria chairs, curiously watching the exchange between Helga and Sid. Helga swore that if she concentrated hard enough that she could actually hear the thoughts floating around in their minds after seeing what an atypical conversation was to Helga and Sid.

Helga could also swear that she could feel the warmth of her own shade of Cherry Swirl spreading across her face. Helga cleared her throat and began to talk to the whole group, taking their attention away from the flustered Sid Gifaldi onto her own flustered self, "Sheena Smithe, the reporter who was supposed to interview all of you, is absent today, so I'm going to interview you instead. I'm just waiting for someone to give me the questions—"

Something poked Helga in her left arm and when she turned to her left, her vision was filled with the vision of pink. A pink stapled copy of Sheena's altered questions, to be exact, that was being held by one smiling Phoebe Heyerdahl. She took the freshly printed pages from Phoebe's outstretched hand, noting that the pink paper was from Helga's own private stash, hidden in the most remote depths of her locker. Fortunately Phoebe, Helga was glad for the distraction. Helga turned to the five males sitting patiently and told them that they would start the interview soon, before she spoke to Phoebe, "Thanks, but do you have–?"

Before Helga could even finish her sentence, Phoebe brought her right arm from its resting place behind her back and in her petite hand she held Helga's special I'm-Such-A-Professional pink tape recorder. Coincidentally, Helga's recorder also tended to hide in unknown, uncharted regions within her locker. Helga took the recorder with a mock glare directed at the smaller female, noticing as Phoebe's smile got wider.

"I hate it when you do that."

Phoebe's smile broadened immensely. "I know."

"Could you–"

"Go around and monitor all of the stations? No problem, Chief."

Helga opened and closed her mouth a few times before she found the correct words. "Go woman." She pointed to a random station. "Just go and stop tapping into the other ninety percent of your brain, please."

Sid, who was at last able to un-fluster himself during the short period of time, and Phoebe traded smirks. "Bye Helga, bye Sid." Phoebe flounced off in the random direction Helga pointed her off to with the smile still plastered onto her face, but not before she noticed that Helga's right eye had contracted a strange twitch.

Once she was sure Phoebe was truly gone and not possibly waiting somewhere to finish all of her thoughts and sentences, Helga plopped herself onto the final remaining chair in the station, crossing her ankles, and tugged at Sid's leather jacket so she wasn't sitting on it after she saw the dark haired football player glaring at her when she brusquely sat on it. She put the tape recorder on the table and pressed the record button before she glanced at the first question on Sheena's paper, then rolled her eyes. "So, how does it feel to be dubbed, The Golden Ones?"

Fortunately for Helga, the following questions were a lot better, unfortunately, the interview process was a very long and very tedious event. In other words, in Helga Speak, it was torture, all nine levels of Dante's Inferno torture. An hour and a good portion of a period later, Phoebe and Helga found themselves walking through the crowded hallways of Crinshaw.

"So, how was it?" Phoebe asked, as she and Helga walked together to their third period class, Chemistry Honors.

Neither of them had seen each other since the interviews, that ran later than everyone expected, had finished because once they were over Helga was dragged off by Thaddeus, who was still complaining about his ruined photo shoot, which resulted in Helga being fifteen minutes late to her second period class… and then there was the fact that they did not have second period together. That of course, put a bit of a limit to the conversation that flowed between them.

Visibly, Helga's shoulders sagged as the blonde groaned and found herself walking at a slower pace, "Absolutely horrendously."

"Why, did you think Sheena's questions were bad? When I skimmed them over, I thought they were pretty good if you ask me."

"But I didn't ask you." Helga shrugged off the mock glare that Phoebe sent her way. "Anyways, I thought her questions were great, with exception of the first one."

"The 'golden one', right?"

"Yup that was a bit too generic for me. She'll definitely give me a run for my money when we're off in the real newspaper business world. But alas, no, the questions were not the source of my agony."

Phoebe was ticking a list off in her head trying to figure out what had caused the interviews to be 'horrendous' but could not think of anything, that was when she heard Helga groan again and she looked up to see her gaze fixed on something as her face twisted into a grimace. Phoebe followed the gaze across the wide hallways of Crinshaw High School only to see one Wolfgang Caldwell walking towards them, or rather, walking towards Helga.

"Hey Helga. How about you and I grab something to eat after school?"

Wolfgang tried to put an arm around Helga's shoulders but Helga promptly slapped it away from her. "How about you go stick your head in a toilet bowl and see how long you can hold your breath while you're in there?"

Wolfgang smiled, yes the poor deluded guy actually smiled at Helga's insult. "Playing hard to get, eh? No worries you'll come around. They always do."

"Only if the 'they' you're referring to are dumb bimbos." She pushed past Wolfgang. "Now if you're done wasting the air space around me, I have a third period class to get to, where I actually go and learn things." Helga walked away from a smiling Wolfgang with Phoebe by her side. "That was the source of my agony! I don't know why, in fact, I don't want to know why, but, for some strange inane reason, it seems that Wolfgang likes me."

Phoebe could hear the strain in Helga's voice as she said the word 'likes' and she snickered at the blonde's sickened expression.

"Are you laughing at my agony?"

Phoebe cocked one raven eyebrow at Helga. "Do you want the truth?"

"No, please lie to me. That always makes me feel a lot better than the truth."

"Okay, then I wasn't laughing at the pity party you were throwing yourself."

Helga purposely bumped into Phoebe's hips, or rather Phoebe's ribs because Helga was so much taller, with her own. "I hate you."

Phoebe was undaunted by the threat to her life. "No, you love me." Phoebe smiled brightly. "Everyone loves me and they should. Or else I'll sic Pink Princess Powder Puff on them."

Helga looked down to see the completely serious expression on Phoebe's face. "Do I even want to know why you like that show and actually endorse its creators by buying the DVDs, the computer games, and all that other shitty merchandise that they sell?"

"All I have to say is that it's all Sid's fault, he hooked me onto this show. It will also be his fault when I give birth to a bouncing baby boy in three months who I shall name Seven Ingrid Heyerdahl Gifaldi."

"Basically what you're trying so hard to subtly tell me is that I just shouldn't have asked, right?"

"Basically."

Helga promptly changed the topic. "You know that buying all that crappy stuff and getting my sister brain washed by that crappy show, you and Sid are both going straight to hell."

"Yup, and I know sure as hell's fire that we'll be seeing you there."

"Basically."

(Y/L)

B E E P! This is a disclaimer! I do not own Hey Arnold! 'Cause if I did, the poor show would be corrupt with my crazy thoughts! Thank you Blonde Cecile, Sakuyaku-chan, Demile, and Anonymous won't display the name, sorry) for the wonderful reviews.

PS:

Blonde Cecile, I needed something to elevate Helga to the motherly, protective, and driven state that she is in, in the story. I had other things planned all of which included Hilda, but it wasn't until I thought of a down and out alcoholic Bob did everything tie together. No worries, the Bob thing won't get carried away. Arnold will be coming soon, if everything goes as planned, he'll be in the next chapter.

Demile, remember seven years is a lot of time... You have no idea how much Helga has corrupted Phoebe (o.o) But Phoebe has also corrupted Helga too, in some ways. See, it balances out.

Now remember folks, click the shiny review button... it loves being praised.

S.L. Cipher

Published: I forgot...

Edited: 7 05

Re-edited: 12 05