Sorry for the delay. Here is an extra long chapter

49.

"So, you are telling me that Helga G. Pataki slept in your bed, ate breakfast with your family, wore your clothes all day yesterday, and was nice to you?" Gerald said, sitting next to Arnold in the Packard on their way to school Monday morning.

"Yes!" Arnold said, for the sixth time in a row. "What aren't you getting?"

"I don't know man…" Arnold was shooting side glances at his best friend, who was once again shaking his head.

"What is the problem?" Arnold said insistently.

"It's just - weird - "

"It's not weird!" He demanded. "It isn't! We've been friends forever - it is normal. And it was great!"

"Alright! Alright! Keep your eyes on the road, man. I'm not trying to die today."

They drove the rest of the way in silence. As they parked, Arnold turned to Gerald before he could get out.

"I thought you would be supportive -"

"Yeah - I know. I'm sorry. It just all - it moved fast. It's good. It's really good! I'm happy for you." Gerald said.

But Arnold just stared at him. Waiting for him to finish.

"You had a crush on her. I thought that was - cute."

"Cute?" Arnold said, eyes narrowed.

"Yeah - cute. And I wanted it to happen for you. But you're talking like," Gerald hesitated - but he knew he had to say it. "You're talkin' like you're already dating."

Arnold just furrowed his brow. Yeah - I mean. Weren't they?

"Are you?" Gerald insisted. "Dating?"

"I mean…" Arnold stuttered. "I mean - yeah!"

"She knows that?"

It was Arnold's turn to avoid the question. He turned and opened the door. But Gerald was on his tail.

"She's your girlfriend?"

"I mean - "

"You asked her? Discussed it?"

"No!" Arnold said, slamming his door. He was getting frustrated - and a little confused. "We didn't discuss it - but we've - we - I mean - we were busy… "

Gerald chuckled, heading toward the school, giving a silent wave to a couple of guys over by the bike rack. Arnold jogged a little to keep up.

"Look man - I'm just saying - this is Helga we're talking about. No one tells her what's what or what she is to anybody." He looked to Arnold, making sure he was listening. He was. "Does she like you? Obviously. But that doesn't mean that she's gonna start holding your hand in the halls and texting you all the time and being all sweet."

"Well -" Arnold started, but Gerald cut him off.

"I recognize the tone you're using. It's your gaga tone. Your romance tone…"

"It is not!" Arnold said, opening the door.

"We laid around all day. And we just fit together beautifully, like puzzle pieces," Gerald finished swooning into Arnold's shoulder.

"Ok."

"That's a quote, Arnold!"

"OK!" Arnold nearly shouted as they got to his locker. He set to opening the lock while Gerald cackled, throwing himself against the lockers. "I get it. I hear what you're saying. I'll talk to her."

"That's all I'm asking. Don't get ahead of yourself." Gerald calmed himself and offered his fist up for their handshake. Arnold smirked and gave him his knuckles. "Hopeless fuckin' romantic!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

50.

Arnold was sitting in class, not really listening to the lecture on the Vietnam War. He was instead thinking about 5:00PM the day before. Thinking about the line of Helga's bare hip in the low light, as they snoozed after another roll around. He was thinking about their absolute electricity.

But then - then he thought about a week ago when she yelled at him during lunch. He thought about their long history of snapping and shouting and arguing. Arch enemies. That's what she called them - recently.

Arnold had texted her that morning. Just a simple, Morning :). A cheesy text to be sure…but he couldn't help himself. He almost added beautiful in there - but chickened out. Wow. Maybe he was tiptoeing subconsciously. Maybe he already knew that this wouldn't be simple. He was surprised by a weird sinking, disappointed feeling. She still hadn't texted him back.

Just then - bzz bzz.

Hey football head, how's it goin?

He smiled automatically as he snuck a look at his phone.

Just talk to her. Yeah - just talk to her.

Today was an A Day lunch. Gerald, Phoebe, Helga, and Arnold all eat together on A Days. He'll see her soon. He'll handle this soon. He tried soothing his nerves, but his shoulders were inching their way up to his ears anyway.

Sooner or later, Arnold's mind spun off to yesterday again - one moment in particular, in the Packard, sitting outside of Helga's house. It was already dark. Helga leaned over, brought one hand to his cheek, and kissed him.

"Good night," she whispered, reluctant to pull away..

"Good night," Arnold whispered back, then went back in for one more.

She got out of the car still wearing his sweats and flannel, holding her dress and heels. He watched her struggle with her armful as she climbed the stairs. But it was this last moment that Arnold lingered on. Helga finally got the door open, but before she went in, she turned back and met Arnold's eye, and she smiled - a big goofy smile, the kind she couldn't repress. And he grinned back.

"Arnold!" a voice shot through the air.

"Wuh - " Arnold's head slipped off his hand and spun around.

"Arnold, class is over." Eugene was standing in the door, waving him over.

Arnold scrambled to get up, gather his stuff, and get to the door. Ms. Calloway, the history teacher just stared at him, stoney-faced while Arnold shuffled out, waving a brusk goodbye. He knew she knew he didn't hear any of that lecture.

"You ok?" Eugene asked as they moved into the hall.

"Yeah - Yeah - I'm fine," Arnold chuckled. "Just a little preoccupied."

"That's clear," Eugene said with a smile. "You're always so busy. I feel like you are on every committee or something."

"I am not," Arnold said.

"You are co-editor in chief of the newspaper," Eugene started listing. "You serve as a student mentor to the middle schoolers, right?"

"Only before midterms and finals," Arnold justified.

"Don't you work with Mr. Simmons' non-profit thing?"

"I mean - yeah. But only every other week."

"Aren't you also in the Green Club?"

"What's your point, Eugene?"

"No point - just - " Eugene stammered. Arnold may be a sucker, but he can tell when someone wants something from him. And Eugene's leading tone and shrugged shoulders weren't exactly subtle.

"Eugene."

"I just wanted to check in about the audition notice - I've put up flyers and everything but we don't have any sign ups yet. And I just wanted to make sure that the ad was - "

"Yes - yeah. I promised, didn't I? Don't worry, I'll make sure it's in the next issue this Friday."

"Ok - great! Thanks, Arnold! You're the best!" Up to this point Eugene had been walking side by side with Arnold, but now he stopped. "Ok - well, I'm actually this way," he said and pointed back the way they came.

"Ok - well. See you later." Arnold said, raising his eyebrows, waiting for him to turn and go. Eugene lingered a moment longer, with a dumb grin on his face, obviously not feeling the awkward moment. Finally he turned and went and Arnold shook his head and headed to his next class.

51.

"But I don't understand! Isn't this what you wanted?" Phoebe said, earlier that same morning, while she ran after a panicky and sweaty Helga. "As I recall, this is something you've wanted your entire life!"

"I Know! I know I know I know I know - " Helga was hyperventilating.

"Stop running!" Phoebe shouted from several feet behind.

Helga stopped but didn't turn around. "Is this everything I ever wanted? Yes. Was Saturday the most romantic, important, spectacular night of my young life? YES! DOES ARNOLD ACTUALLY LIKE ME?"

"Yes!" Phoebe answered as she caught up. Looking up into Helga's face, she would swear she saw a tear. "Helga?"

Her face was set, her chest shook with each rattling breath - as she tried to steady her heart rate. They continued walking, slower this time. She was trying very - very hard not to cry. "What - what if -" Phoebe placed a small hand on her best friend's shoulder.

"It's ok."

"What if," Helga tried again. Swallowing the emotion down a little deeper. "What if he does like me. I mean - like he likes me enough to - fucking date or whatever?"

"Yeah?" Phoebe said.

"But then - then I am… I turn out to just be me - and I just ruin everything."

"Helga - "

"No Phoebe! You cannot tell me that you are not also worried that I will do exactly what we know I will do and absolutely, irrefutably, irreparably fuck this up!" Helga looked down to her best friend in the whole world and saw a look of unhappy and uncertain skepticism.

Just before they turned the last corner to the school, Helga stopped short and pressed her back - hard- against the brick of the corner store. "Tell me I'm wrong, Phoebe." Helga begged, eyes on the ground.

A long moment passed between them as Phoebe tried to figure out her next move. Yes - it was totally possible that this could end very very badly. Helga could act just like herself and lash out at intimacy. She could be selfish, as she often is, and push Arnold too far. She might be possessive, clingy, aggressive… or maybe -

"I don't know how it will be," Phoebe whispered. "I don't know if you and Arnold will work out forever and get married and live happily ever after. But I do know that you have an opportunity to be with someone who you know makes you happy." Helga looked up at her, pursing her lips tight.

"What if - " Helga started. But Phoebe wasn't done.

"It would be great if you could know. It would be great if you could control it. But you can't. The only way to have this - to have him - for even a short time - is to breathe into it, resist the instinct to push him away, and trust that what needs to happen, will."

Helga's brow was furrowed. Phoebe could tell she was fighting the urge to shout ENOUGH WITH THE HIPPIE SHIT! She could tell that Helga didn't want to believe it could work - because then it could also fail. If she kept it to this one perfect day that could live untouched in her memory forever, nothing worse than anything she had already experienced could happen. But if it worked - she might feel even more deeply than she can alone, happy even, and that brings the threat and promise of pain too. Phoebe knew that ultimately, Helga didn't know what all that meant - and therefore fundamentally didn't trust it.

Phoebe squeezed Helga's arm as she stared off past her. Helga pressed up from the wall and turned the corner. As they approached the front door, Helga pulled out her phone and stared at the text she got earlier that morning.

Morning :)

"Take your time," Phoebe said and walked past Helga, into the school.

52.

This was all going to be ok. Arnold was feeling lighter - a little giddy. Walking to lunch, he looked back at his phone and the short exchange he had with Helga.

A: I'm good. Thinking about you.

H: Crminey, Arnoldo - ur such a cheezeball.

A: You like it. ?

H: Ha - maybe.

A: I'll take it.

That was it. But it was something. Now it was lunch and he could talk - or start the talk. As he walked into the caf, Helga was coming out of the lunch line. He watched her as she made her way to the table. Her brow was furrowed, as per usual, her stride was long and a little aggressive. She slammed her tray down, seemingly unawares, and finally she looked up. She caught him in that goofy half-lidded gaze - and her face burst into a blush. Arnold smiled to himself and headed over.

He sat down next to Helga and pulled out his lunch.

"Hey," he said, leaning over just a little.

"H-hey football head." She stammered. She was still blushing. Was she nervous? Oh my god, she's nervous. A warmth bloomed in his chest. Phoebe and Gerald were in discussion about something - class or an application or something - as they sat down. They weren't paying them any attention yet - so he leaned in a little closer and took her hand under the table.

Helga's head snapped to him.

"I was wondering if you might want to get dinner tonight - " he caught his breath a little as he felt her thumb run across his knuckles.

"Oh - um - me and Pheebs are getting Larry's today. Right, Pheebs?" Helga's eyes were a little wide, but she held tight to Arnold's hand.

"Yep! Monday night - Larry's Dawg Haus," Phoebe said, locking eyes with Helga. If Arnold knew more about how girls spoke in furtive glances he might have seen the panic and improvisation passing between them. But he didn't. Helga relished the touch of his hand, but she also felt a need radiating off him.

"Yeah - right. Of course," he leaned back, but kept his hand where it was. "Maybe we could - "

"Well, if it isn't Helga G. Pataki!" Harold fucking Berman was loudly waddling up to the table. Helga ripped her hand out of Arnold's and tightly crossed her arms over her chest.

"What the fuck do you want, Pink Boy?" She snarked with a smirk on her face. "Looks like your nose is still a little swollen."

"EXACTLY!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Helga said.

"I just figured you should know that I will be bringing Sid with me to Wrestlemania this weekend," he spat. Helga moved so fast, her chair flying out from under her.

"Excuse me? That's my ticket," Helga was in Harold's face - inches away from his barrelled chest - her face red, but not in blush now.

"No, it's not," he said, pressing forward. "It's my cousin's ticket, which he gives to me, to hand out as I fucking choose. And I would be crazy to choose you after what you did!"

"Hey - Helga - " Arnold tried to interject. But she was already pushing back into Harold - yelling about Sid and how they aren't really friends. Sid then showed up and confirmed that Harold hadn't actually asked him - now all three of them were yelling.

It was getting out of hand. Phoebe, Gerald, and Arnold all sat back and watched.

"It's my ticket, Harold - the last two years - " Helga was clapping in Harold's face.

"You almost broke my nose!"

"Almost- ALMOST!" Helga yelled. People were starting to stare.

"I thought you were mad at me, Harold!" Sid tried to catch Harold's attention.

"Maybe I should call Patty - maybe she'll take the ticket." Harold said loudly, sick of Sid's uncooperative spirit.

"I mean I can go with you - I guess -" Sid offered.

"No, SID!" Harold said, shoving Sid back.

"Jesus - fine. Whatever." Sid said, turning and walking away.

"Go ahead - call Patty. I'll wait." Helga said, cocking her hip to the side. But Harold didn't move. "Oh what's that? You can't?"

"Shut up, Helga."

"No you can't! Because she hasn't talked to you since last week, has she?"

"Shut up, Helga!"

"What did you do after Rhonda's party, Pink Boy? Because she -"

"Shut UP!" Harold was fuming, Helga was close, he raised his hands and shoved her shoulders, hard. "You are such a FUCKING BITCH!"

Clear across the caf, an administrator could be heard shouting Berman! But Helga couldn't hold back. She lunged forward and slapped her hands hard on Harold's chest and pushed her whole weight into him. Harold stumbled several steps back but quickly recovered and came running back at her.

PATAKI!

Arnold jumped up from his seat as Helga prepped to attack. It was Arnold's turn to lunge. He scooped Helga up around the waist right as Harold tumbled too far, landing right where Helga was. Helga's fists swung out wildly.

"Get off, Arnold!" Helga pushed and slapped at Arnold's hands until he put her down.

"Sorry Mrs. Claremont. Everything's fine - " Arnold was trying to say, as he stepped between Helga and Harold and faced the tall, broad shouldered woman. She was a harsh administrator, known for grabbing fighting kids by the scruff of the neck and ripping them apart.

"It better be, Shortman!" She said, hands on her hips in a broad stance. "You should know better than to get mixed up with these two." She looked at Helga and Harold with familiar disdain.

"Yeah, Helga was just apologizing to me for being a bitch." Harold snapped his head to Mrs. Claremont and smiled wide.

"That is enough, Mr. Berman!" But it was too late, the damage had been done. Arnold still stood in front of Helga, so she reared back, sucked up a nasty slug of saliva and spit clear past Arnold's shoulder right in Harold's face.

Arnold closed his eyes in a wave of tension. And he kept them closed as Mrs. Claremont grabbed Helga around the bicep and Harold by the back of his shirt and tore them both away toward the main office.

Arnold sat down, his head in his hands, listening to Helga being dragged farther and farther away.

"Wow - " Gerald said. "You have got your work cut out for you, man." He took a bite of his sandwich with a smirk.

"What do you mean, work?" Phoebe said with a tilt of her head.

"I was just gonna try and talk to her - " Arnold started but Gerald cut in.

"Our boy here wanted to have a little DTR chat with Pataki."

"Oh that's wonderful," Phoebe said. Gerald obviously thought this was ridiculous and he kept shaking his head. "I know she wants to talk too."

"She does?" Arnold said. Gerald looked surprised too.

"I mean, she wants to - I mean she doesn't want to talk - "

"That sounds right," Gerald said, another bite.

"No - She does - she's just scared." Phoebe said and gave Gerald a small shove.

"Scared of what? Me?" Arnold asked.

"She's scared of - well - I mean. She's Helga." Phoebe dropped her gaze to her bento box and chewed her lip. She didn't want to give too much away - her first priority was Helga's privacy. But she had to say something.

"Yeah - She's Helga - the bully. The Brute. The Maniac."

"Gerald!" Phoebe and Arnold protested at once.

"She spit in Harold's face - right in front of Claremont. Look - I like her - mostly." Phoebe and Arnold exchanged a quick disbelieving look. "And like I said this morning, I want you to be happy. I just want to point out what you both must see! She is obstinate and aggressive and violent!"

"Do you have a point?" Phoebe said, impatient.

"I'm saying - tread fucking lightly. If this is the path you choose, man, it's gonna be a lot of that," he said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder toward the office. "And if she doesn't want to be your 'girlfriend' - you might just have to deal with that."

"I know that - " Arnold said. But his confidence was a little questionable. "I'm gonna talk to her. Don't worry."

"Don't listen to him, Arnold. Really - " Phoebe tried to assert.

"Whatever you say, Arnold," Gerald sighed. "Whatever you say."

53.

Arnold texted Helga when she didn't come back before the end of lunch. For one brief moment there were dots of typing. Then they disappeared, never to return. He wanted to relax - let it go - she'll get back to him eventually. But his jaw stayed tight and his breath, shallow.

Helga Pataki is a cause of stress and tension. No one would say otherwise. I mean, I know I wouldn't. As his last class ended, Arnold resisted checking his phone at least three times - knowing it hadn't buzzed or moved.

BzzBzzBzz

Oh - I guess it did.

Walking out of trigonometry, he hastily pulled out his phone.

H: Hey - sorry. In school detention. Bitch took my phone.

A: It's ok - I was just worried.

H: Aw shucks, Arnoldo. You make a girl blush. Heading to Boxing so…

A: Ok! Glad you're good. Any more detention?

H: yeah -in school tomorrow. But that's all.

A: Oh, good!

Ok - so he knows. He knows! He should've said something. Something to imply he wanted to talk. Asked her to dinner tomorrow - or the next day. But she was "scared." According to Phoebe, Helga was scared of - intimacy maybe? She was a little vague. What Arnold could gather from her cryptic language was that Helga likes him - like really likes him. That was nice to hear - even if it was Phoebe saying it. She likes him, she just struggles with expressing herself… emotionally. She is hard pressed to let people close to her - I mean look at her parents! Arnold could understand that. He did understand and he resolved not to push her.

Before Arnold could swear off talking about their relationship all together, however, Gerald also made him promise not to go too ham on the sweet romantic boyfriend crap (his words) without talking about it. So - you know - balance.

Arnold could do that! He can manage balance - patience! He was a Libra after all. He will give her space - let her know he is there - but not enough to push her away.

Whew! As he walked toward the journalism room, thoughts flashed through his brain. Thoughts of Helga snuggled up next to him, sitting across from him over a candlelit dinner, walking hand in hand along the shore - jeez, maybe he was a hopeless romantic.

Just take a fucking breath, he chastised himself. Focus on the newspaper for now - not… and a memory of Helga's lips on his neck. SMACK - Arnold came out of his reverie and he ran head first into the door to the journalism room.

"You gotta turn the doorknob, my guy." Nadine stood in the doorway, making way for him to step inside.

"Gah - thanks," Arnold said, rubbing the spot on his forehead. He walked in and threw his bag down at his normal station. The room was already a buzz with the team. People were going over pictures from homecoming and spreads for the coming issue.

Arnold got to work on some emails and spreads to approve. Making note that he had to put together the ad for Eugene. Eugene. Maybe he didn't have to do it - maybe, maybe - Jen!

"Hey Jen - I have something to hand off to you - when you have sec," Arnold said. The room was a buzz. Photos from Homecoming were in and everyone was fawning and laughing. Mark wanted to include some terrible shots of some "friends". Nadine quashed that quickly enough. Then she came over to the computer next to Arnold, and started clacking away at something else.

"So! Did you have a good time at the dance?" Nadine asked, not looking away from her screen. "Saw you and Helga hanging out - " she trailed off a little. Arnold repressed a smile and though fleetingly that Helga would not like him talking about her with Nadine - well anyone really.

"Yeah - we were doin' something for Gerald and Phoebe," he said as coolly as he could muster. "What about you? Did you have a good time with Jeremy?"

"Jeremy?"

"Yeah - "

"I didn't go with fuckin Jeremy - " Nadine spat and laughed.

"Language," sand Ms. Carter from the corner of the room - she was the faculty advisor for the paper. She mostly did her own stuff and swooped in only when there was something really juicy going on.

"But Jeremy said he was going to ask you," Arnold continued, now looking away from his screen entirely.

"He did - but I didn't say yes!" Nadine said with a sideways look. " What kinda girl do you think I am?"

"That feels like a trap - "

"Jeremy's a tool." Nadine said, clicking here and there on a terrible graphic about the changing lunch menu.

"Yes - I agree - but I saw you dancing with him."

"A pity dance, Arnold. He was so pathetic, standing on the side all alone. He asked for a dance and I said fine." She blushed a little but it seemed more out of embarrassment than anything. "And I cut the dance short - he was getting handsy."

"Damn - yeah," Arnold said, sitting back. "I really don't like that guy."

"You know him and Helga used to touch parts?" Nadine laughed.

"Graphic - thanks."

"I'm surprised they didn't go together. She would be able to keep him in check - maybe."

"Yeah, well he fucked that up royally. Trust me." Arnold said very casually, not quite realizing what he might be giving away.

"What do you mean?" Nadine probed carefully. Why did he know anything about this to begin with? What was up with him and Helga this last weekend anyway? Wasn't Rhonda just fucking around or - or was there something going on?

"He's a tool like you said. He can't handle Helga anyway."

"And you can?" Nadine said - taking a chance. Which paid off as Arnold's head spun full around and was immediately red and blotchy. A blush? Is Arnold Shortman blushing over Helga Pataki? "Oh my god - you can!?"

"Hey! Shh - keep your voice down!" Arnold turned fully toward Nadine in his chair, kind of ducking his head below the level of the screen.

"Arnold you have GOT to tell me what's going on!" Nadine was pulled from her screen now too - too excited by the idea. '"I thought for sure that Rhonda was just poking at nothing! But was she - oh my god - she was onto something?"

"Ok ok ok - shhhhhh - just - " Arnold was not sure what to do. "I can't talk about it yet! So just please please keep it to yourself." He begged.

"Oh my god what - "

"No - nothing bad - just we haven't really talked about what is happening - so…" Arnold just trailed away. Nadine could see a kind of panic in his eyes now. It wasn't just crushing - he was nervous.

"Ok. Yeah - I won't say anything. I promise." In a further silent agreement, Arnold nodded his head in thanks and turned back to his computer. And Nadine turned back to hers, letting her eyes linger on his blush a little longer.

There was something to the match, she thought as she went back to the task at hand. Helga, ever the blowhard, loud and reckless. Arnold, ever the diplomat, calm and collected. Maybe - just maybe maybe they could be balancing? "It is kinda cute, I guess." Nadine said after a minute or two.

"What is?" Arnold said, almost distracted.

"You and Helga," she whispered and made eye contact. "It makes a wild kind of sense." She watched as a smile split his face in spite of his efforts to stay stoic. He opened his mouth, seemingly to ask something - give in to talking about it just a little more - when the door FLEW open!

A freshman with faded pink and green hair was absolutely electric with news, standing in the doorway of the studio. "You will NEVER guess what JUST happened at the school board meeting!"

54.

Honestly - the news was not that exciting in the grand scheme of all things ever, but it did call for a rearranging of the front page. A Concerned Parent had gone to confront the school board about "The Pitcher in the Wheat" and how they didn't want kids reading such a dated book anymore - it made kids overly pretentious, she said. Well this pissed off a number of parents and board members who said it was a "classic" and "an important part of the canon." Another member was pissed for the time wasted. In the end a committee was formed to come to a decision in the next several weeks.

This interruption caused an uproar among fans and critics in the journalism office. No consensus could be reached other than it was ridiculous and it was more interesting than the other front page story about a change in the district lunch menu. So everything got very shifted around and more than a little derailed.

Nadine and Arnold left their love life conversations on hold - though she did give him a knowing look as he left the room - headed towards the gym at the end of the day.

"See ya later, Arnold," she said and walked the other way. He knew he would probably see Helga on his way out and it made him nervous. No new texts on his phone - he went to text her, but stopped with his thumb hovering over their conversation.

Maybe - just give her space. Balance, he thought. No need to rush, no need to label things right away. He just had to not get carried away, he thought with a flash of Gerald's skeptical gaze. He picked up his feet and kept walking. If she was there - they will take it slow - they will take their time.

Practice had been hot and sweaty. Helga had calmed down as she took out her frustrations on a bag. She was grateful for the intense exercise. This was really more of a boxing club than a team - not a lot of high schools have the equipment to train for boxing, not to mention, a lot of schools see it as too violent. So the club functions as a gym with monthly sparring and occasional matches with other clubs around the city. Their coach, Rhys Hunter, was competitive a long time ago. Now he's a husky, but still very quick, gym teacher. He's hard on them, hard on Helga in particular.

"Pataki! Keep that hand up - I don't care that you're on the bag. Don't get so cocky," he said from across the gym so everyone could hear.

Mr. Hunter liked Helga. He knew how smart she was but also how goddamned reckless. When she first joined, she would curse out other kids, try to spar every other day, threaten and challenge kids three times her size. But as she got the hang of the technique and sport, he saw she put a lot more of those outbursts into training. She was a hard worker and he kept an eye on her.

As she left the gym that day, he noticed she was distracted in a way. She didn't lash out or dick around with the other guys. No surly comments, just quiet, persistent training. Something's goin' on, he thought. Something to look out for.

Helga heaved her bag on her shoulder and headed out - hungry and thinking of Arnold. He came in so sweet at lunch. He wasn't afraid, he went right for her hand. He even asked her out - meaning this wasn't just a fling, right? But she had panicked - of fucking course. Just outside the gym, she stopped.

There he was - rounding the corner, gaze downcast. He looked so - defeated somehow. My fault. My fault. Helga stood frozen in the doorway to the gym, Phoebe's voice in her head telling her to go! Just go talk to him. BREATHE INTO IT.

"One side, Pataki," she heard and she was knocked lightly by the gym door. It wasn't Phoebe but Dustin. As he sauntered forth, he threw one mildly disdainful glance over his shoulder. She rolled her eyes and sneered then caught Arnold's eye, having looked up at the sound.

"Hey," Helga said in a small voice. Her heart beat skipped when Arnold's face lit up. He came right up to her.

"Hey," he said. He looked like he wanted to say more - but he pressed his lips together instead.

"Sorry about earlier."

"No - it's fine, really." He reached out for her hand but she flinched, instinctively pulling away, so he backed off. Even took one step back. That distance made Helga feel cold; she was already pushing him away. With a quick look around, seeing they were alone, Dustin out the door, she hyped herself up - Come on, Pataki!

Helga closed the distance, fast, making Arnold blink.

Even a short time - it would be enough, she thought. Next he knew, her arms were slung around his neck. She fell into him so quick his hands were still floating midair when she kissed him. As his surprise faded he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back. Helga let out a thin, happy sound as they sank into each other. Arnold let tongue slide across her bottom lip - she was salty with dried sweat, but she somehow smelled so good. He couldn't help but smile into the kiss.

When the kiss came to an end, still close she said "I was obnoxious today - I overreacted."

"I mean - " He said looking at her with a dumb goofy face. "Yeah, a little. But Harold was outta line."

"Fuck yeah he was!" She said, indignant, then laughed. "You were trying to ask me something…" She still hadn't pulled back, in fact her fingers tangled lightly in his hair, so he kept her close. She was keeping a wary eye over his shoulder though - not ready to be witnessed.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to get food tomorrow night - or something." He watched her face for any sign of fear. "I'll drive you to work too - if you want."

She gave him a smile, one more look around, and kissed him again. Not too quick, not too slow. Tender. "It's a date."

"Great - uh - um - " Arnold fumbled. Helga was finally pulling away. Footsteps could be heard behind him.

"Gotta go, football head." She was already past him, linking arms with Phoebe. "See you tomorrow," she said, looking over her shoulder.

"Yeah!" Was all he could manage. As he watched them go, Phoebe turned her head and gave him a happy wink. Then they were gone and Arnold was giddy again.