It has been a while since the one fic with a similar plot device was updated so heres chapter 3. 's a little short. Another one will pop up soon. Probably.
The whole class was split into pairs of two and each pair had their own private cabin somewhere on the boat. Helga and Phoebe had been quick to group together when the room arrangements were announced, knowing fully well that there were few others whom they could stand and could stand them.
Dumping her worn-out back-pack on her bed, Helga huffed out a sigh. The blonde was currently in her and Phoebe's shared room on a lower floor.
Phoebe had already neatly set down her bag and started to unpack it's perfectly organized contents when Helga stormed into the room. The blonde had acknowledged her friend with a passive grunt, a basic, noncommittal sound that was more open and friendly than the majority of her preferred speech.
"Helga?" Phoebe asked sweetly, her voice soft and pleasant, rather than sugar-coated and syrupy. This was Phoebe's manipulation voice, she used it when talking to teachers, parents, authority figures, and Gerald. Phoebe wanted something.
"Yeah, Pheebs?" Helga replied roughly, more out of obligation than actual consideration.
"I was hoping that I might be able to… well..hangoutwithgeraldbecauseweweretalkingearlierandhewasbeingreallyniceandhelgayouknowhowifeelabouthimimeanconsideringmyageitsonlysociallyacceptablethatibeinterestedinandspendtimewithaboyespeciallywhenyouconsiderthatinchildhooddevelopmentitishighlyreccommendedthatonedoesntencourageforintheothergenderasthatwouldleadtohighly-" Helga rolled her eyes as Phoebe's technical terms and embarressed quick speech became more and more jumbled by awkward laughs and nervous gestures.
"Phoebe." the blonde called forcefully, as though it were a demand rather than her name, "Go hang with tall hair boy, I need some peace and quiet anyway." The taller girl settled roughly onto her bed, folding her arms behind her head and nonchalantly closing her eyes as though in disinterest.
The Asian's eyes sparkled brightly as she gave her friend a brisk hug before scampering off with the simple reply "going!" Her soft giggles echoed quietly through the hall.
Cautiously opening one eye, Helga sat up in her bed, noticeably slouching as she stared at her ankles; her resolve had been weakened once again by Arnold's presence.
She knew she loved him (its not like she burst out into made poetic soliloquies for fun) but being around him made her feel weak. Something about the boy was so soothing and disarming, as though all her grudges against the cruel world were suddenly just melodramatics. When Helga was around Arnold everything just felt so right, and this disturbed her because she knew the world was so very wrong. Looking into his eyes made the blonde feel like she could forget all her problems and just float in a shallow pond of bliss and ignorance, live a life where she didn't need to try or think, only follow him blindly. A life where she barely existed.
Helga couldn't bare to live such a life.
Helga didn't drift around, following the current with an apathetic air, she made her own path. She saw across rivers, she drilled through mountains, she parted seas.
To stop fighting, to pretend she didn't have problems, to let go of being Helga… The girl would do most anything for Arnold.
But she didn't think she could do that.
Growling she slammed her fist down onto the soft bed, only becoming more aggravated by the lack of damage the furniture took from her hit. Glaring at the passive colorful bedsheets, the blonde angrily shoved herself off the bed and stormed out of her room, forcefully kicking the door shut as she left.
Helga was being pulled apart on the inside. Arnold or herself, Arnold or Helga… granted there was always the looming fact that Arnold wasn't actually hers, therefore he wasn't really an option, but she still needed to choose, just in case.
Elbowing roughly past some kid in the hallway, the girl continued to haunt the halls of the lower deck. She was so caught up in her own thoughts she didn't notice the boat begin to move away from the docks and out to sea. This was Helga, ten hours before it all began.