Edited: 8/2/2012

Author's Notes:

Bonjour,

First, I would like to thank everyone that read the first chapter. I really appreciated the reviews.

This chapter is a little different from the last. There is more dialogue here. Also, Arnold and Gerald are more incorporated into it; may I do them justice.

Now on with Chapter 2; "Curtains please."

Flintphone

Disclaimer: Do I even have to write that I don't own Hey Arnold? I think the whole world knows that.

Chapter 2: A Spoonful of Tapioca Pudding

The very next morning, Helga shuffled herself up the school main flight of stairs and slowly made her way through its crowded hallways. She was certainly glad that today was Friday. Over the week, the constant daily lectures and rigorous routines had taken its toll on her nerves...not to mention her recent worry over Phoebe.

As she reached her classroom door, the girl resolved to start the day afresh. With that in mind, she marched into the room, weaving her way over to her desk before she sat down. She turned and greeted Phoebe on her left, deciding to start with a pleasant greeting, "Hey Pheebs, how're you doing?"

"Oh, hi Helga. I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm alright," was her response, even though she was truthfully feeling rather anxious and slightly annoyed.

Yesterday, when Helga had left school, she was still bothered by what had happened earlier that day. Once she reached her house, she ate a quick snack and then went right to her room…hoping for some peace and quiet so she could clear her mind. However, her tranquility was soon interrupted by the loud blaring of Bob's television.

"Argh, just perfect," she'd muttered out sarcastically to herself. With a sigh, she decided to walk to the pier. "Maybe there I can actually get some peace," the young girl had thought but, on her way to the front door, she had been stopped by Bob's booming voice beckoning her.

Currently, Helga felt the sudden need to vent out what had happened yesterday…including her fear of losing Phoebe. She glanced at the very girl beside her, the desire to tell her best friend growing. "I don't have to tell her everything," she reasoned in her head. "She doesn't need to know about my petty fears; I can just tell her about Bob."

Issuing out a sigh, she decided to tell her story. "Big Bob lost the TV remote again and then demanded that I find it. Can you believe that?"

"Yeah…"

"I was about to leave out the door when he started yelling at me to come into the living room. He wouldn't let me leave 'til I found it. I mean, criminy, he's the one who lost it, not me! He had me searching everywhere for over a half an hour until he found it in his pant's packet. Then it was too late for me to go outside," she exclaimed while fiddling with one of her book covers.

"After that, he told me to get him a Yahoo out of the refrigerator." She shook her head. "Tell me Pheebs, what do I look like…his slave?"

"Yeah…"

Helga's head snapped over to look at her friend. "What!" she stressed in disbelief.

"I mean n-no, Helga. I'm sorry, I was distracted. I'm listening now," Phoebe stuttered out, desperately trying to fix her mistake.

"Never mind!" Helga hissed irritably, slamming one of her books on top of the other.

RING!

"Have a great lunch class. Oh, and Helga, I would like to speak with you for a minute please," Mr. Simmons stated.

Soon, Arnold and Gerald walked out of the classroom. Once they put their books away in their nearby lockers, they walked together towards the cafeteria. "So, when are we playing at Gerald Field? You never told me," Arnold asked.

"Yeah I did, man. I told you yesterday morning before the bell rang. Weren't you listening?" Gerald questioned.

"Oh, sorry, I must have been distracted. Curly was tying himself to the flag pole outside," Arnold said as he pushed open one of the cafeteria door. "Why'd he do it anyway?"

"Like anyone knows," Gerald shrugged as he passed through the door. The two made their way over to the lunch line.

"Anyway, I'll repeat," he continued, stressing each word. "The game is on Sunday at one o' clock."

Arnold smirked."I got it now, Gerald."

"Good, I hate repeating myself." He grabbed a lunch tray and Arnold followed suit. They eventually reached the food on display, where in front of them laid two choices.

"Which one are you going to get?" Arnold inquired.

"I'll probably get that...whatever it is..." he muttered, pointing to the mushy noodle dish.

The blonde chuckled. "That's goulash, Gerald."

"Oh, right..."

After they both grabbed a plate of goulash and some milk, they spotted two cups of pudding; one chocolate and the other tapioca. "Hey look, our favorites and they're the last ones. We must be lucky, Arnold."

"Yeah," he replied, grabbing the tapioca pudding while Gerald took the chocolate one. "It certainly brightens up my lunch."

"No kidding," Gerald mumbled, staring at his goulash.

Once they paid for their lunches, they walked towards their usual table and sat down. Arnold began munching on his goulash while Gerald started into his pudding. The dark-haired boy eyed him curiously. "Why are you eating that first?" he asked.

"I like to eat my dessert last," Arnold stated simply.

"Not me," Gerald declared, loading a huge glob of pudding in his mouth.

"Hello Arnold, hello Gerald..."

Gerald suddenly turned and lifted his head up, realizing that Phoebe was standing before him. He quickly gulped down the large amount of pudding in his mouth. "Oh...um, hey Phoebe," Gerald stammered out.

"Hi Phoebe," Arnold said nonchalantly.

Gerald quietly ushered Phoebe to sit down. Clearing his throat, the boy soon changed his demeanor. "So, how are you feeling, Phoebe?" he inquired.

"Oh, fine thank you. How are you Gerald?"

"I'm good. Thanks."

Suddenly, silence fell over them as the pair began to stare at Arnold. He was preoccupied drinking his milk, when he soon realized that they were staring; making him self-conscious. "Is something wrong?" he questioned, furrowing his brow.

"Don't you remember? You're suppose to talk with um...Stinky now about his problem," Gerald said.

"What problem?" Arnold asked, clearly confused. "Stinky never came to me with a problem...at least not this week." He thought, "Maybe Gerald's mistaken."

"You know, Arnold..." the crafty boy emphasized, raising one eyebrow. "...his special problem."

"Oh...right, his problem," said Arnold, finally recognizing what he was alluding to. "I'll just go then. Bye."

The couple quietly bided farewell to him as he quickly walked away from them. He made his way over to the table that Stinky occupied; which also included Sid and Harold. They were going on about some video game, Arnold observed, but he quickly filtered it out. Spooning some of the goulash in his mouth, he watched the couple conversing. He inwardly chuckled as he observed them.

Arnold knew of the shy glances they would give one another. He knew what those glances meant. However, he never gave much thought to them being together, until now.

Reflecting back on the previous day, Gerald had told him that he couldn't walk home with him. He was somewhat vague; he never said if he was walking with someone else. But the blonde found out who it was. As he walked down the main steps, he caught a glimpse of their figures turning the corner. He wondered why Gerald didn't tell him. He had nothing against the couple; if that was his reason. "Although," the blonde thought. "If this continues, I'm going to have to be more aware of them wanting their privacy."

Arnold's facial expression changed as he pondered further on that thought. "That would mean I would have less time to spend with Gerald," he thought. He soon laughed at himself, "I am jumping to conclusions; and even if it did happen, Gerald is my best friend. We will always spend time together. I have nothing to worry about."

Swiftly, the pigtailed girl marched down the hallway towards her locker. Swinging her locker open, she grabbed her lunch box, and then roughly shut it. She proceeded to march down the hallway towards the cafeteria. Simmons had kept her longer than expected. He had recommended her for a poetry contest. He had prattled on about how wonderful her work was and about how others would enjoy reading it. He had even promised that she could remain anonymous; if that was what she wanted.

When asked if she would accept, she really didn't know. She did not show much interest outwardly; however, inwardly she was flattered and rather intrigued. She finally told him that she would think about it. She had a lot to think about already.

As she pushed the cafeteria doors open, she decided that she would focus on her decision later. Right now, she was hungry. She eyed her and Phoebe's usual table; it lay empty. She quickly scanned the room for her, until she saw her alone with Gerald. Her usual scowl grew deeper as she walked towards them. As she moved closer, Phoebe's giggles grew louder.

"Phoebe," she blurted out, startling them both. "What are you doing sitting here?"

The pair turned around in their seats, suddenly faced with the ticked girl in pink. Surprise was etched on both their faces; until Gerald's dropped in annoyance. "Oh, Helga, I have...um something important to tell Gerald," Phoebe stated hesitantly. "I'll meet you at our table in a few minutes."

Helga's eyes became smaller as she glared at them. "Whatever," she growled out before marching to their table near the window. She grabbed one of the chairs from under the table and plopped herself down, slamming her lunch box on the table. "I knew it! I knew it!" she repeated in her head. "Yesterday, I was right. Here's more proof. She stops listening to me. She pushed me aside to sit with none other than Geraldo. Who knows what else will happen." She shook her head and groaned, "I need to stop thinking and just eat."

She grabbed her lunch box and opened it. "Ah great," she angrily muttered, as she laid eyes on an individual packet of crackers and a spoon. Her mom had obviously packed her lunch. "I should have made my own lunch," she pondered. "But I was too preoccupied." She didn't even have money today because she'd left in a hurry this morning. Frustrated, she moaned as she rested her head on the table.

Unbeknownst to Helga, a certain blonde boy observed her actions. He saw her storm over to Gerald and Phoebe and then leave in a huff. He couldn't help but watch her; she seemed so forlorn and troubled, now sitting at her table. "She is obviously not happy about Phoebe sitting with Gerald," he thought. "Maybe I can help her feel better." Saying goodbye to his tablemates, he grabbed his tray and walked over to her.

Still resting her head on the table, her eyes closed, Helga tried to drown out the cafeteria's noise. Some silence, she thought, could ease her frustrations. A minute later, she could hear her name distinctly being called. She groaned as she was forced out of her quiet. She opened her eyes and lifted her head, seeing who the annoying pest was...to find Arnold. "Hi Helga," he stated, standing across from her.

"A-Arnold," she cried. Helga had almost forgotten him over the last two days. She was so preoccupied that she hadn't even spit spitballs at him or yelled at him. "This Phoebe and Gerald business is messing up my priories," she thought.

Quickly, changing her tone, she barked out, "I mean, what do you want, Football Head."

Arnold looked at her unfazed. He was certainly accustomed to the girl's hostility but, after the FTI incident, he believed that he was starting to understand it. Days after the incident, her passionate confession had reluctantly swarmed around in his head, forcing him to focus on it. He then pondered her previous behavior towards him. The more he thought about her confession, the more her behavior made sense. However, he still was not hundred percent sure why she behaved the way she did. Helga was a complex person after all.

But at the moment, he didn't have time to decipher this...she seemed to need his help. "I wanted to know how you were," he answered her.

"Oh, just peachy. I'm walking on sunshine," she retorted sarcastically.

"Seriously, Helga," he stated, resting one of his fist on his hip.

"If you must know, Hair Boy, I'm fine..." she lied.

"Then why aren't you eating?"

"Miriam made my lunch," she answered roughly, showing the contents of her lunch box. "What a pathetic spread, huh?" she scoffed.

"A packet of crackers and a spoon?" he questioned, looking inside it. Most of the time, Helga and him hardly agreed but now, he had to concur; it was pathetic. "You've gotta have something else to eat, Helga." He looked down at his tray and spotted his uneaten pudding; it was all he had left. "Here, take my pudding." He placed it down on the table. "It's tapioca. I haven't eaten any of it."

Her unibrow arched downward. "I am not your charity case, Football Head..." she seethed.

"It's not charity," he replied as he slowly slid the pudding towards her. "I want you to have it."

She briefly stared at him. She found it so hard to say no when she gazed into his beneficent green eyes. "How could I refuse, when my love is actually sharing his food with me?" She inwardly swooned. Her stomach soon growled, "And not to mention that I'm as hungry as a horse."

She grabbed the pudding, wrapping her hands around it. It dawned on her that this was her opportunity. Looking down at the pudding, she quickly uttered out a thanks.

Somewhat surprised, Arnold began to smile. "No problem, Helga."

He now realized that it would be good time to offer a listening ear. He slightly lean in closer, "If you ever need someone to talk to..." he stated slowly. "I'm here."

She looked up at him; the scowl almost gone from her face. Inside, she was elated. His presence and his genuine offer were the best things that had happened to her today. "He's like a ray of sunshine after an endless rain," she mused.

"I'm back, Helga."

The sound of Phoebe's voice broke Helga's reverie, much to her dismay. She sighed as the dark-haired girl sat down next to her. Phoebe soon gazed at both of them curiously.

Feeling rather uncomfortable, Arnold decided to go back to Gerald; he was probably waiting for him anyway. "Oh...I better go. I'll see you guys later," he stated, turning around and walking away from them. Helga watched his retreating figure, gladly reflecting back on their conversation. She swooned. However, she soon shook herself out of her daze before taking the spoon out of her lunchbox.

"Oh, Helga...isn't it a beautiful day?" Phoebe asked, watching the sun shine through the window.

The blonde girl spooned the creamy substance into her mouth. "Yeah Pheebs," she softly replied. "It is now."

Author's Endnote:

*Wipes sweat off forehead*

Wow, it's not horrid. I think it may even be passable. Yay!

It's stated that Gerald loves chocolate pudding. The truth is I don't know what he likes. I just picked it so it'd be a contrast to the tapioca. I would have given him vanilla but the two almost look the same. Hmm, I wonder how tapioca tastes; never had it before.

Anyway, I been working on "The Case of the Missing Locket" while I wrote this chapter so, that should come out soon. The next chapter for this story will probably be named "Let's go fly a Kite." I know I have two chapters that reference Mary Poppins' music. The titles just seemed to fit. Don't worry, the fourth chapter won't be "Feed the Birds." I like the song but I think Helga seen enough bird poop for now. :D

P.S. - By the way, I have nothing against goulash. It's been my dinner for many nights.