I still don't know where I'm going with this. It just helps.
The World Ends With You
Sink
But I'm going nowhere, getting there soon; I might as well just sink to the bottom with you.
-Fountains of Wayne
It had already been a few months since she moved from Hillwood and Helga was adapting wonderfully. Helga didn't think her family life could improve, but she was glad to be proven wrong. In the last few months, Bob called Helga by her name. No more "Olga;" always "Helga." It was a feeling even Helga, wordsmith that she was, could not describe. As promised, Miriam sobered up and kept the house running smoothly. Helga even started to get excited to see Olga. She and her older sister would sit in her room and chat like old friends over ice cream.
But Helga couldn't move on from Arnold.
The blonde tried dating another boy, named Geoffrey, but it didn't work. Even though Geoffrey had green, jellybean eyes; even though he had blond, unruly hair; even though he had a sweet personality, well…his head just wasn't footballish enough for Helga and she had to break up with him.
Helga hoped that her moving away would prove that Arnold was just a sick obsession for a lonely girl, but if anything, she craved and missed Arnold more and more. Every day that passed, Helga would write him a letter telling him how much she missed him and how she would have stayed if he had just answered her, but—in the end—Helga would go to the backyard, throw the letter in the grill, and set it aflame. Miriam was initially worried about this daily ritual Helga had taken, but while investigating a recent burning, she saw Arnold's name at the top of a scorched sheet and immediately understood. The concerned mother made it a point to tell the rest of the family not to question or interfere with Helga's ritual.
No matter what way Helga looked at it, she was in love with Arnold fucking Shortman and she wouldn't get over it ever, no matter how far away she moved.
She was sunk.
Arnold sat at the bottom of the pool, losing himself in his daydreams. Instead of the water and the various legs before him, he saw a girl with blonde hair and a pink bow. Instead of the filters of the pool and the floatation devices, he saw half lidded, sapphire eyes and a cunning smile. Instead of feeling the burning of his lungs, he felt the soft caress of her hand on his cheek.
And then that caress started to sting. Arnold blinked his eyes open and looked at Gerald; said boy floated in front of him with a brow raised and both hands on his hips. Gerald motioned for both of them to swim up and, reluctantly—though his lungs were practically deflated—Arnold followed his best friend to the surface. The boys reached the top and Arnold gasped in a big gulp of air—just in time to be slapped again.
"Dude!" Arnold scowled. "What the hell?"
"Do I need to put you on suicide watch, man?" Gerald admonished, swimming to the edge where Lila, Phoebe, and Brainy waited.
"I'm not suicidal, Gerald," Arnold sighed, swimming next to him, "I was thinking."
"Underwater? Man, if I hadn't have slapped you, you would have drowned. I know Helga leaving has you bummed—"
"I'm fine," Arnold growled.
"—but you need to get over it. It's been four months! I'm sure she's completely forgotten you."
"She must have," Arnold replied bitterly as he climbed out of the water, Gerald following suit. "She hasn't sent a letter or called or anything; like I don't fucking exist."
Lila frowned disapprovingly while handing the blond a towel, "Oh, Arnold. I wish just ever so—"
"Lila," Arnold ground out, "Please stop saying 'ever so,' or I swear that I will snap, kill everyone in Hillwood, and—once I've been arrested and put in an insane asylum—I'm going to chant how I was just ever so sorry that I killed everyone."
Lila blanched and backed away from Arnold, unused to the hostility pouring off the generally kind boy. Brainy immediately wrapped an arm around the redhead's shoulders, comforting her.
"Arnold!" Phoebe frowned, "That's no way to talk to Lila! She was just trying to be nice and, to be honest, we're all a little tired of your bad moods."
"Hey, c'mon babe," Gerald defended. "Arnold was—is—in love with her. I'd be acting the same way if you ever moved away."
Phoebe sighed and nodded. "You're right. I should be more understanding. I miss her terribly, too."
Arnold rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm just…angry and I have nowhere to direct all this anger."
"Why did you need to think at the bottom of the pool?" Brainy asked curiously.
Arnold, glad for the slight change of subject, sighed. "I don't know. I just…had this feeling that I needed to sink. I don't know where it came from, but the second I woke up the first word that popped into my head was 'sink' and that, somehow, it had something to do with Helga."
Brainy smiled, "How funny would it be if, somehow, you guys were so meant to be that you could see each other in your dreams and whenever Helga was feeling a certain way, you'd feel it too and interpret it differently?"
Arnold blinked. "Brainy. You…how'd you know about the dreams?"
Said boy immediately frowned. "I was joking, bro. I don't know about your dreams. Are you telling me you've been seeing Helga in your dreams?"
"Every night since she left," Arnold confirmed. "And it would always feel so real. We'd sit at the pier, my roof, the bench at the park—anywhere—and just talk. And it isn't anything I already knew about Helga—it's always stuff I didn't know and that I never thought she'd tell me."
"What ever do you talk about, Arnold?" Lila asked.
"I…Stuff like her family, like how it's gotten better. Like, her dad calls her 'Helga' all the time now and how her mother gave up alcohol and is a better mom and how she's buddy-buddy with her sister now and how she writes me every day, but burns the letters every night."
Phoebe's expression had slowly declined more and more into shock and, by the time Arnold finished, Gerald was seriously worried that his girlfriend was petrified.
"Babe?" he asked, poking her. "You okay?"
"How did you know all that?" Phoebe demanded once she snapped out of her trance.
Arnold replied, startled. "I—I don't know. She just tells me this stuff in my dreams. Are…Are you telling me this is all real? That that's really happening with Helga?"
"See what happens when you joke?" Lila whispered to Brainy. "Ever so much shit happens."
Brainy and Gerald snickered as quietly as they could.
"I…No. That's ridiculous. I don't know what's happening with Helga," Phoebe muttered.
"You're lying to me," Arnold shook his head. "That is what's happening now. Somehow…somehow she and I are meeting in our dreams and she…she hasn't forgotten me."
"I told you that's not true," Phoebe frowned.
"Oh, Phoebe," Lila interjected, "I know you're trying to respect Helga's wishes, but I'm just ever so tired of lying."
Arnold's ears perked up.
"Arnold," Lila said decidedly, "Helga writes to me, Phoebe, and Brainy regularly—mostly to Phoebe, as you can understand, but I get a fair amount of letters. She's happy where she is; her family has changed for the better. Her dad doesn't ever confuse Helga for Olga anymore. Her mother is a recovering alcoholic who hasn't had a drink in almost two years and Miriam keeps improving and supporting the family. She and Olga have gotten just ever so close, like actual sisters. Everything dream-Helga told you is really happening. Helga's been sending us letters about it, but asked us not to tell you anything so you could forget her. I'm ever so sorry we lied to you and…and well, I'm even more sorry that I said 'ever so' three times now."
Arnold smiled at Lila—a real smile the group hadn't seen since Helga had left—and hugged the shocked girl. "I don't care. You told me everything I needed. Helga hasn't forgotten me. She still loves me," he let go of Lila, speaking excitedly. "She loves me, as much as I love her. Helga G. Pataki…she really hasn't forgotten me."
Gerald smiled unsurely and patted Arnold's shoulder. "Sounds like. What're you gonna do, man?"
"The most logical thing, of course," Arnold replied, "I'm going to talk to her in our dreams and convince her to come back!"
Gerald smacked his forehead with his hand, inciting a giggle from Phoebe.
Brainy chuckled, "I'm glad I brought this up, then."
"Brainy!" Arnold exclaimed, hugging the boy, "How can I ever repay you?"
Brainy grinned. "No more death threats. I love it when my girlfriend says 'ever so,' 'kay?"
Arnold laughed. "No more death threats. I promise."
"Thanks, sweetie," Lila smiled, relieved. Brainy kissed her in reply.
"Well, what do we do until you see Helga, Arnold?" Phoebe asked.
Arnold shrugged. "Whatever tires me the fuck out."
Gerald snickered, not quite used to Arnold's cursing. "Then let's go play football. I hear Gerald field is free today."
"Think we can get the whole gang together?" Brainy wondered.
"I bet we can," Lila beamed. "It'll be ever so fun to see everyone."
"Yeah, let's get them together," Arnold decided. "Then let's get them together for a game of baseball when we get Helga back."
"What are you going to tell her, Arnold?" Phoebe asked.
"I'm going to tell her I love her and I miss her and…and I don't know why she wanted to sink today, but I sat at the bottom of a pool thinking about her. And I don't know how that's relevant, but…but I miss her and I love her and I want her back."
"What if that's not enough?" Brainy raised a brow.
Arnold frowned. "I keep trying until I find the answer. It's sink or swim from here on out…Damn, what is with Helga? Who the hell thinks so much about sinking?"
Helga frowned, stopping in the middle of campus; she rubbed her head, wondering why she felt the sudden need to go to the bottom of a pool to think, of all crazy things. She shrugged, reading her last poem—there were a lot of water metaphors in here that had to do with sinking. Maybe that's why she felt like she needed to sink.
She shook her head, also feeling incredibly sleepy. That was ridiculous, though. School just ended; it was as if Helga wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible. To be fair, seeing Arnold in all her dreams and talking to him about everything had been extremely calming, especially since dream-Arnold seemed so real—well, except for all his cursing. The real Arnold would never curse so much.
Damn, she was getting tired. Helga shrugged, deciding on heading straight home. While she was at it, the blonde figured she'd sit in the tub, let her head sink under for a while, and think through some stuff.
Maybe then she'd get some answers.