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

A Sense of…

PART II

Waking up had never been one of Helga's strong suits…

Especially waking up on time.

That was one of the multitasking tasks that Helga had never really been completely good at. In fact the sixteen, nearly seventeen year old needed three alarms to wake her up on a normal weekday… six on a weekend. But this never guaranteed that she actually stayed awake after all of her alarms went through their two minute intervals and this, obviously, tended to cause her to be late for many things.

Sure she was alert to loud screams, yelling, arguments, phone calls, crying and such, but alarm clocks?

Those just never seemed to work out for Helga G. Pataki.

So on that Friday morning that Helga woke up, snuggled deeply in a warm, not to mention non-germ infested bed, it was of no surprise that Helga fell back on her usual tardy habit. And when the fact that Helga did not have three alarms to wake her up was added to the situation, there was no real shock factor that Helga was indeed sleeping her way through the school day.

Stretching her arms over her head Helga rolled over on the large bed to take a glimpse at the clock on the nightstand.

Nine-fifty AM.

At least that was what the clock was telling her and if it was not lying, school had officially started two hours ago.

Helga realized that she really direly needed to get to school—Principal McNielson would want her head on a platter when he found out that she was skipping school… McNielson wanted her head on a platter period, this would just add to his bloodlust.

But Helga, being Helga G. Pataki the Second, ignored this fact, rolled over on her bed and went right back to sleep.

Having a warm and comfortable bed tended to do that to a person.

Plus Helga direly need to get more than three hours of sleep at night. The purple bags underneath her eyes, no matter what anyone else told her, Helga knew did not go with everything.

Two hours later, at nearly twelve o'clock in the afternoon Helga heard a rather polite, but at the same time rather pompous knock from outside the room.

How a knock could be presumed to be pompous was a rather difficult and long explanation and required many different samples of knocks to be used for analyzing, so in other words, Helga just knew how to tell a pompous type of knock when she heard one.

Ignoring the knock, Helga snuggled deeper into the bed, covering her head with pillow in the hopes that she could fall asleep again.

There was another knock at the door. "Miss Pataki." A minute pause and then there was yet another knock filled of pompous. "Miss Pataki, are you awake?"

Realizing that Sir Butler Alfred would not go away until she answered, Helga finally decided on responding with an interesting combination of a groan and grunt that said all in one that she was indeed awake and she was definitely not enjoying it.

"Good then. Miss Artemis requests that you join her for lunch immediately in the dining room." With that said Alfred slunk to wherever to do whatever he was doing before he was sent to wake Helga up as said teenager lied still in the bed.

Helga knew that she had to go eat breakfast with Arty, she really had no choice considering she was going to be living in her house for free, but that did not mean it was any less of a struggle for her to get out of the bed. Helga lied there in the bed for what seemed to be a full five minutes deciding on whether or not she was actually going to revive herself and eat breakfast with the master of the house or lie in bed until she dropped asleep. And it was about two minutes later when Helga actually made her decision, or rather Helga realized that if she did not get out of bed Sir Noble Butler Extraordinaire would come knocking on the door again and she would definitely not be getting any sleep.

Groaning, Helga slipped one bare foot out of the warmth of the down comforter letting it drop onto the floor. Soon enough the foot was followed by the other, which was then followed by two legs, then sure enough the rest of her body poured itself out of the rather comfortable, not to mention warm bed.

Not even bothering to look in the full length mirror, or the mirror above the dresser, Helga exited the room on unsteady feet; she did not need mirrors to tell her what she already knew.

Watery light blue eyes.

Purple, nearly black bags underneath watery blue eyes.

Dull blonde hair sticking up in every which direction that is known to man, and some that have yet to be discovered.

Pale, dull skin.

Skeletal body.

All in all, a rather unhealthy looking Helga Geraldine Pataki.

On lethargic, unsteady legs Helga gripped onto the banister and made her way down the staircase. Helga was not quite sure where the dinning room was but, fortunately enough, Helga was a rather smart girl and realized that the dining room was probably near the kitchen and fortunately for the already fortunately smart Helga, she remembered where the kitchen was.

Sure enough there was a doorway from the kitchen that led to the rather lavishly decorated dining room, and to Helga, it seemed that nothing done in this house was meant to be a small scale matter.

There in this room Arty was already seated at the head of the table with a china plate and silverware set in front of her as she flipped through the morning newspaper. Arty was looking at her finest, as usual, in another tailored suit, hair slicked back into a pristine bun, light make-up in place, and simple, yet expensive jewelry glittering in her ears and on her wrist.

Helga felt like crap just looking at the older woman.

"Don't just stand there, take a seat. Alfie is making us lunch." Arty did not even bother to raise an eye from her newspaper as she said this, gesturing to the seat next to her with a hand before returning said hand to steady her newspaper.

There were times when Helga really did think that the people in her life had psychic powers when it was in regards to her.

Slinking over in borrowed pink pajama set and bare feet, Helga sat in the seat on the right of Arty's seat where there was already a place set for her.

Five minutes later, with the room being filled with awkward kind of silence, Arty was finally done with the newspaper and she expertly folded the sheets of paper closed with practiced ease before setting it down on the table. "So, how did you enjoy your sleep Helga?" Arty asked with a manicured eyebrow raised over her Armani reading glasses.

Her eyes were directly focused on Helga, there was no escaping them and that made Helga rather uncomfortable. Helga was not one for the direct approach, at least when it came to matters dealing with herself.

"It was good." Helga told her plate, feeling more comfortable speaking to the glass object than the woman sitting next to her.

"That's good to hear." Arty eyes wandered to look at the view of her backyard through the wall to wall window directly across the large room. She took a sip of her cooled coffee, before setting it down to talk to Helga once again. "I hope you don't mind, but as we eat our lunch I want to set down a few ground rules and then afterwards we can go to your high school and talk to your principal. I'm sure he's shitting up a few bricks by now from your non-appearance in school if his personality hasn't changed from the last time I dealt with him during your junior high school years."

Helga smirked at her plate. "He hasn't changed much, the stick up his ass may have crawled up a few more inches, but other than that, nothing much has changed." Helga eyes wandered to the window to look at what seemed to be a pond in the backyard.

Arty hmmphed. "Well this exchange is sure to be even more so pleasant than our previous ones." Arty paused for a moment to refocus her eyes on Helga, whose eyes immediately dropped to the china plate. "And now for a few ground rules…" Arty picked up two slips of paper from off of the table that Helga had failed to acknowledge. They had looked like innocent pieces of paper to her, but now it seemed otherwise. Arty ticked off one finger on her left hand. "One, don't destroy my property, I paid a rather expensive decorator to put together all of these rooms and I rather not let my hundreds of thousands of dollars go to waste."

Arty ticked off two fingers on her left hand. "Two, none of your special parties, period. Small gatherings are allowed as long as you give some type of warning."

Finger number three. "Three you're allowed to have as many guests as you want as long as they are not disruptive or destructive. Four, you will keep your room as well as what ever area you are in neat, I don't care if I have a butler and maid, they are not here to keep cleaning up after slobs."

Finger number four. "Four, if you are going to stay in my house you have to maintain a B minus, C plus average." Arty saw Helga open her mouth to speak to the plate, rather than her, but cut her off. "I know your grades are not exactly at their best right now, but I'm confidant you'll pull them up. Plus, you got a bypass for your mid-terms, which you'll have to take next week, I believe… Now what number am I on again…?"

"Five."

Finger number five. "Oh yeah, five," Arty's eyes wandered to the fifth item on her list. "You are going to see a nutritionist and start doing some physical activity to get you back in shape."

Back to finger number one. "Six…"

Arty's list droned on and on, mostly after number five it dealt with Arty's rather peculiar inconsistent, consistencies that Arty wanted Helga to follow, like leaving her door open when she was not in the room. The most important rules were the five that were listed first. During the time that Arty talked about the remaining fifty odd rules, Alfred had already served them their lunch.

"And last but not least, you respect me and my privacy, I'll respect you and your privacy. Do you agree to the terms of your living conditions?"

"Yes."

Arty rolled her dark eyes, finally having enough of the Timid V2.0 of Helga G. Pataki. "You do realize that most people general answer the people that they are talking to by looking at them, or at least looking in their direction instead of pieces of china."

Helga hesitantly, ever so slowly raised her eyes, forcing her light blue eyes to meet Arty's darker set of eyes.

"So Helga G. Pataki, do we have an agreement?"

"Yes, Artemis J. Richardson."

"Good. Now hurry and get dressed, we have to catch your asshole of a principal before he kicks you out of school." With that said Arty got up from the table and left the dining room, leaving Helga at the table with her barely eaten, gone cold lunch sitting in front of her.

Minutes after Arty's departure from the dining room, Alfred entered and began to clean up the table, picking up Helga's plate from in front of her without even bothering to ask if she was done, even though Helga was not in the mood to eat another bite, it was the principle of the fact that he did not even bother to ask. "I do believe that Miss Artemis told you to get ready, Miss Pataki."

If Helga were in her normal, prime non-sleepy mode she would have a few snippy comments to make at Sir Butler, but as the situation had it, Helga was not in said mode, so she said nothing. Instead Helga got up from her seat at the table and made her way to the room that had been dubbed as her own.

When Helga finally reached the room tucked in the corner of the house, Helga saw all of the possessions that Arty asked Helga to leave in the laundry room earlier in the morning. They had obviously been cleaned and disinfected and met Sir Butler Extraordinaire, Alfred G. Cadbury's standards.

As Helga went to take a shower, she finally realized how interesting it was going to be living with Artemis J. Richardson.

An hour later, Helga found herself walking through the crowded hallways of Crinshaw High School by Arty's side. It was the passing period right before the last class of the day, so everyone was still prepping for ninth period, gathering their books, and quickly talking to a few friends as Helga and Arty entered the high school.

Arty parted the crowd with the mere clicks of her stiletto heels, swaying her hips and stepping her feet to an unknown beat. The older woman inadvertently took over the school for those brief moments as she walked through the student ladden hallways. Helga had a feeling that Arty had always had this ability from the time she was a child, and once again, Helga was indeed jealous of the older woman.

Moments later, Helga found herself outside of the principal office as Arty headed inside to argue with McNielson about Helga's residence. She was brought into the room initially to tell McNielson that she had found a place to live and explained the situation to him, but once McNielson started to act as his usually self, Arty kindly asked Helga to leave.

And leave Helga did.

Helga knew better than to get in the way of Arty's work.

Helga sat in a rather uncomfortable plastic seat in the main office as the secretaries milled around her, every once in while sparing a moment to look at her as if she was a ticking time bomb.

And it was at these special moments when Helga wondered whether or not she was actually a bomb and if she were, she could not help but wonder when she would finally explode, or would she implode?

It took twenty minutes of arguing, ten minutes of cross referencing, and nearly fifteen minutes of phone calling before it was confirmed.

Helga residence at Arty's house in order to stay in Crinshaw was perfectly allowed and Helga was allowed to continue her education at Crinshaw High School. And by the time all of this confirming was finally, well for a lack of a better word, confirmed the final bell of the day had rung.

Helga watched as Arty and McNielson exited his office and shook hands, McNielson looking as if he had swallowed a live fish that was persistently flopping around in his stomach and Arty smiling as if she were the one who had slipped the live fish into his food.

"Have a good day Mr. McNiels."

McNielson frowned. "It's McNielson, Miss Richardson."

Arty contorted her face into a look of apology. "Oh, sorry Mr. McNickelson. I'm just glad that we were able to work everything through… I'm very glad that Helga will be able to continue her education at such a fine establishment."

McNielson's queasy look only seemed to get worse. "Me too, Miss Richardson."

"Good day, Mr. McNellison."

McNielson did not even bother to correct her; instead he bade his goodbye and slunk back into his office.

Arty smirked and moved to leave the main office, signaling Helga to follow her with a mere tilt of her head.

Once they were outside of the office, making their way to the parking lot, Arty spoke. "I dare say that, that man is not happy that you're still going to be attending school here."

Helga smirked, finally realizing how much she had gotten under McNielson's skin with this one simple incident. "He really doesn't like me much." She said as she trailed behind Arty, walking in the shadow of the path the older woman was creating as she swaggered through the hallways filled with students.

As they reached the exit of the building, Arty stopped short and Helga nearly walked into Arty's back.

Arty turned around to look at Helga. "I think you should stick around for a little while. You can call the house when you're done and I'll have Alfie pick you up."

Helga raised her eyebrow, not even bothering to voice the question that was already written on her face.

Arty used her head and gestured to outside of the high school building, where Helga could spot Phoebe and Sid standing by the bike rack through the door's window. Or rather, Phoebe was sitting on the bike rack and Sid was leaning against it, at any rate, the two were obviously waiting for someone, and that someone was obviously her, Helga G. Pataki.

Helga sighed and Arty awkwardly patted her shoulder. "It will only get better when you talk to them…" She smiled, not quite warmly, but it was a smile nonetheless. "See you later Helga. Don't forget to call."

With that said, Arty left the school building, leaving Helga to her own devices, waving a quick acknowledgement to Sid and Phoebe before getting into her car and driving away.

Arty was a very busy woman and she had other things that needed to be taken care of… after all, she did not make her fortune sitting around doing nothing.

Helga stood there for a few minutes, watching her friends through the sliver of a window as they waited by the bike racks. They were talking. She saw as Sid made one of his scrunched up faces, a telltale sign that he was making one of his corny jokes and watched Phoebe smirked in response, not really laughing considering the joke probably was not that funny.

They looked so alive and unbroken.

They looked the opposite of what Helga felt like.

But she knew on that no matter how well they looked on the inside, they were dealing with some issues themselves on the inside, even though it was not quite reflecting on the outside, like Helga.

All mental debates aside, Helga took a deep breath and walked out of the school building and walked towards her friends. In the end she had no real choice, it was not like she was going to turn around, walk to the opposite side of the school to get to the other exit just to avoid them.

They would find her eventually.

"Hey Helgs." It was Sid who acknowledged her first as she walked into their view; it was a very Sid like thing to do.

"Hey Siddy."

And there was quiet.

Helga ignored the fact that Sid had to elbow Phoebe before the petite half Asian, half Kentuckian female acknowledged Helga's presence.

"So what's going on Helga? All I heard was that you walked into the school with some business lady and were heading to the main office."

"Lots of things Sid."

Sid gave Helga a pointed look that spoke of his displeasure from Helga's answer. "Do you care to elaborate?"

"I wish I could, but I have to run off and catch up with someone."

Phoebe snorted, with her arms crossed over her chest. The waves of Phoebe anger were rolling Helga over and nearly drowning her.

"But I'll call you guys later tonight and we'll meet up tomorrow… sometime… okay?" Helga knew it was a far stretch to ask them to give her more time, but she did anyway… she just needed a little bit more time.

Sid nodded hesitantly, wanting to push, but at the same time knowing that this was basically as much as he was going to get out of Helga.

Phoebe said nothing and Helga knew she was in for hell when they finally sat down and talked.

"Bye." Helga said, more so directing it towards to the stoic looking Phoebe G. Heyerdahl.

Helga walked closer to Sid and awkwardly hugged Sid, planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Later Helgs. Don't forget to call." Sid said squeezing Helga closer in the hug before letting go.

Helga left to the two, continuing on her way, hearing a bit of argument starting as soon as she left, knowing that the 'her' and 'she' they were referring to was indeed her, Helga G. Pataki.

And so was Helga's life… she tended to cause a lot of trouble wherever she left… this was very much so evident in her junior high school years.

Helga continued to walk, and nearly three blocks later she found herself outside of a modest sized building on the aptly named Main Road. On 48 Main Road there was a bright sign with bright letters, decorated with flowers, rainbows, and stick figure children.

The sign was clearly for a daycare.

Especially since the sign clearly said, 'Abby's Daycare'.

If that was not a sure enough, definite sign, then nothing was.

Helga had called Stella early, just after getting out of the shower, to let her know she would be coming by around three thirty.

Helga's cellphone told it was three nineteen, and for what ever neurotic strange reasoning, Helga sat outside in the cold waiting those eleven minutes to pass before she climbed up the three steps and rang the doorbell to let her presence be known.

Helga knew this was beyond neurotic, but there were some things about her behavior that was willing to part with quite yet.

(Y/L)

Nope I still don't own Hey Arnold! I do own YL. But I do own the idea and concepts of YL, oh, and anything you recognize and think is not mine, is probably more often than not, not mine. Oh wow, it's been FOUR MONTHS since my last update. Sorry guys, I would tell how crazy life has been, but I really don't want to bore you… So thank you Demile, Grumbles, Drucilla Black, Crystal 94, Prince Ahket, Twilight Sazuka, Lauralogan80, Ahhelga, and IndulgentWriter for reviewing YL, as I said before reviews really do help motivate a writer to keep on guys. Now, guys, I have been away for four whole months, but since I know you are all forgiving, I know you'll check out my original story on fictionpress, its called So Much Space (http // www . fictionpress . com / read . php ? storyid 2210969), just take out the spaces. It's under the same name, S.L. Cipher. I just want ya'll to check it out and tell me what you think. If you like YL, you'll like SMS, its starting off at a normal pace, but its going to have its dramatic turn in a few chapters, so please stay tuned for that… so to wrap this up… PLEASE check it out for me, pretty please!

PS:

Grumbles, I actually checked out that story and I really liked it, so thanks for letting me know about it.

To all of my readers, thanks for standing by patiently.

Next Chapter: And There Was (Another Interlude of Sorts)

S.L. Cipher– The Queen of Eville (No this not a spelling mistake but a higher echelon of evil, look it up in The New Cipher Dictionary of Cipherous Lexiconography) who will gladly accept all criticisms, advice, reviews, praises, and flames with a large Cheshire Cat Smile. Why the Cheshire Cat Smile? Why, because Cheshire Cat Smiles will always piss people off and Cipher loves pissing people off because it is exceptional fun... Especially when they try and attack you. Which is exactly why when one wields the Cheshire Cat Smile it is important that they must also wield a mace and a sword.

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«·´¨·The Cipher ·´¨·»

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