Author's Notes:

Hmm…it's been awhile hasn't it? It's been over a year to be exact. I'm sorry that I've kept you guys waiting. I never meant for this chapter to take so long to update. There were just so many things that got in the way.

But, now it's here…in all its simplistic glory. ;) Better late than never I say…

Flintphone

Disclaimer- I don't own Hey Arnold!...blah, blah, blah, etc, etc

Chapter 3: Let's Go Fly a Kite (Part 1)

"Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold! Hey Arn…"

The stirring boy reached his hand over to his bookshelf, pulling the wires out of his unique potato alarm clock. He promptly propped himself up in his bed, rubbing the sleep from both his eyes as he issued a yawn.

Feeling somewhat stiff from his slumber, he raised his arms over his head and stretched out his back. Satisfied, the blonde soon lifted his head to gaze through his skylight. A smile suddenly graced his face as he stared at the clear blue sky with its puffy clouds.

He pulled the covers off him as he began crawling towards his wall. Indifferent to the fact that he was wearing pajamas, he resolved to head towards the roof. He swiftly climbed his ladder wall until he reached one of the skylight's windows. Unhooking the latch, he pushed it open; sticking his oblong head out of the window. A delightful gush of wind touched his face, drawing him further outside.

He carefully climbed out of the window and walked over near the edge of the boardinghouse's roof. The boy took a deep breath as he stood still and closed his eyes, feeling the wind pass over his body. It was a steady, constant wind, he observed, perfect for kite flying. "That's what I'll do today," he decided, "Maybe Gerald could even join me."

Arnold quickly made his way over to his skylight window and climbed down his wall before he plopped down onto his bed. He eventually made his way over to his red couch and sat down. Grabbing the receiver of his corded phone, he pushed in Gerald's home number. After three rings, his friend finally picked up.

"Hello…"

"Hi Gerald, it's me."

"Hey Arnold…how's it going?"

"Good," he answered eagerly. "I was thinking about going to Tina Park and flying my kite after I ate breakfast. The weather looks perfect. Wanna come?"

"Uh yeah…" Gerald muttered. "…But I can't meet you 'til later."

"Oh…?" the blonde uttered, his tone understanding. "Timberly having another morning dance recital?"

"No…thank goodness," he grunted at the memory. "If I ever have to sit through another one of those…I'm going to literally rip my hair out."

Arnold smirked. "That wouldn't be good."

"Hmph, tell me about it…" he mumbled under his breath.

"So…" Arnold started curiously as he began to lay himself out on his couch. "What is happening then?"

"Uh…" he hesitated. "Nothing…nothing really…"

Raising an eyebrow over the abrupt change in his friend's voice, the football-headed boy decided to question him further, sensing that he was holding something back from him. "Gerald…" he emphasized with determination, now seated upright. "What's going on?"

There was a brief silence over the phone before he heard a long sigh. "Alright, alright…" Gerald admitted sheepishly. "I'm gonna be hanging out with Phoebe for a few hours today…"

"Oh..." Arnold said, slightly taken aback. "Well, that's…great."

"Yeah…we had talked about it at lunch," he explained, his tone now more bold. "I even offered to take her to Slausen's. Can you believe that she's never had their brownie sundae before…?"

"They're going on a date? Wow…that was fast." Arnold pondered, still not over his surprise. "Well, now I know why he had that goofy smile on his face yesterday after lunch," he mused, inwardly chuckling as he thought back.

However, his good humor was pushed aside as a sudden flicker of uneasiness coursed through him. "I'm happy for them," he started to reflect. "But, I hope they don't go on dates all the time…"

It was already a proven fact that the couple was practically drawn to each other like magnets. So naturally, Arnold knew that dating would only increase the time they would spend together. "Just hopefully not too much…" was his repeated thought, his features brooding. "I do wanna spend at least some time with Gerald…"

But then, he shook his head, disappointed with himself that his thoughts were going in such a direction. "Besides," he considered, trying to push away the strange feelings once and for all. "I'm sure that Gerald can make time for Phoebe and for his friends…"

Unaware of Arnold's musings, the dark-haired boy continued on as a thought came to his mind. "I'm sorry I can't invite you to come along with us, man…it was kind of planned between the two of us," he apologized. "But not to worry, buddy, I can still meet you in the park around one."

"Gerald…it's not a problem." He spoke honestly, glad that he wasn't the third wheel. "I'll wait…just have a good time."

Gerald laughed briefly. "I know I will," he stated, a smile apparent in his voice. "I always have a good time with Phoebe…" However, his voice soon dropped an octave as he continued, "…unless Helga interrupts us." He groaned loudly, "I swear, Arnold that girl…"

Helga. The very mention of girl's name drew the odd-headed boy further into his inner thoughts and away from his telephone conversation. A slight grin flashed upon his face as he recalled their encounter yesterday. He remembered her usual rudeness, her rejection and then, (if the expression on her face was any indication) her genuine gratitude towards him.

At the time he had offered the pudding, he hadn't really expected a thank you; the boy just glad to be of some help. But to his surprise, she had uttered one.

It had been barely audible but, he clearly heard the sincerity of it. Such rare moments with her felt right. They would be one of the few times that he would actually be able to get passed her façade, and get a glimpse of the real Helga—the Helga that had helped him save the neighborhood.

He blushed as soon as his thoughts flashed back to their encounter on the FTi building roof; the place where she had declared her love for him. "Love…" he mused, the word reverberating through his mind.

It was such a passionate expression for a nine year old to express to another romantically. To be honest, he was still getting over some of the initial shock of her confession. Yet…oddly, the more he thought about it now, the more he just couldn't deny that somewhere within him the knowledge of her romantic feelings weren't completely foreign.

"Arnold!"

He jumped in surprise. "Huh?"

"Were you spacing out on me, man?"

"Oh…um sorry Gerald…so what were we talking about again?" Arnold asked, ashamed with himself for drifting off into space.

Gerald released an exasperated sigh. "I was talking about the look of death Helga gave me at lunch…" He paused before he decided to let it go. "…But it doesn't matter. I'd rather not talk about her…especially when I've got to get ready to meet Phoebe."

"Oh yeah…" the blonde remembered absentmindedly. "Your date…"

"M-My date?" Gerald stammered. "Hold on…you think it's a date?"

Arnold creased his brow. "It isn't?"

"No…no," he uttered, sounding rather flustered. "We're just two friends spending time together…that's all…"

A knowing smirk spread across Arnold's oblong face, amused with his friend's uneasy state. "Uh huh, whatever you say…Gerald," he muttered, pleased to use the familiar line on his friend.

Gerald quickly cleared his throat. "Anyway…" he interjected. "I…uh gotta go…"

Arnold couldn't help but smile at his reaction as he spoke, "Okay…see you later than. Same spot?"

The place he was referring to was in the middle of the park, between two large, well-positioned oak trees. After losing each other a few years ago, they had agreed, once they found each other again, that they would always meet at that very location.

"Of course," his best friend replied automatically. "Later, Arnold."

"Bye, Gerald…"

Once he placed the phone down on the hook, Arnold rose from his pull out couch, heading for his closet. He surveyed the clothes within it, choosing his familiar garments. Swiftly, he walked out of his room and down his stairs towards the boardinghouse's shared bathroom. Relieved that it was now vacant, he rushed in, enjoying his morning shower. Before long, he emerged, fully-clothed, as he headed back up into his room to make his bed.

However, once inside, he was interrupted from this task when a single squawk overhead brought his bright eyes upward to his skylight. There a small pigeon stood upon the glass, gazing intently down at him. "I don't think I've seen him before," Arnold thought curiously as he walked up his ladder wall.

Opening one of his panels, he poked his head outside while he stuck his arm out towards the animal. Unafraid of this movement, the bird gladly neared his extended appendage. Arnold smiled as he began to rub the bird's neck with his fingers; the pigeon content with this soothing action.

Interested to see if there were any other birds, the boy quickly glanced around his roof, but there were none in sight. Arnold looked back down at him, "Are you all by yourself…little buddy?" The bird just cooed softly in response. "Ah, I know how it feels…" he spoke as if he understood him.

With that, Arnold sighed as he slowed down petting the animal, his eyes far-off as his thoughts went elsewhere. Propping his chin in his other hand, he placed his elbow upon the base of the window's frame. "I guess I'm going to have some time to myself today," he uttered distantly, his eyes upward. "But it'll be a good thing…" he added quickly, "Sometimes, that's all I wish for…you know." As if expecting an answer, the boy looked back down for reassurance. But to his surprise, the bird was gone, nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, there was a knock at his door. "Hey Shortman, ya up yet?" his grandfather called from outside his door.

Arnold blinked. "Yeah…Grandpa," he finally answered, still shocked by the pigeon's early departure as he closed the pane and climbed down upon his bed.

The older man popped his head inside. "Well, come down. Your grandma's making you some pancakes…"

Arnold nodded his head as he responded, "Alright, I'm coming in a minute."

Phil grunted to himself, his mind still on the pancakes. "…Hope they don't have raspberries in them like the last time…" he mumbled as he closed the door and stepped down the stairs.

In no time, Arnold finished making his bed, ready to head downstairs, but he felt something was missing. His eyes lit up in realization as he looked over near his bed, eyeing the most essential item in his wardrobe…his hat. Resting on a hook upon his bookshelf, the boy grabbed the small blue accessory and placed it between the two parts of his hair. He smiled. Now, he was ready.

His short legs promptly carried him down the house's wooden flight of stairs and into the kitchen in record time. Once there, the blonde's nose was met with the wonderful smell of his grandmother's hot pancakes. She was over the stove, humming and dancing to a song he didn't recognize as she flipped the food in the pan.

"Good morning, Grandma," he greeted as he walked towards the kitchen table, passing Abner who sloppily ate his breakfast on the floor.

"Howdy…Cowpoke," she replied as the boy sat down across from his grandfather. She grabbed a plate full of pancakes and glided from the stove to the table, placing the dish in front of her grandson. "Eat up…" she commanded him, "You're going to need your strength for the cattle drive…"

"Thanks…" Arnold uttered before his grandmother went back to the stove-top, singing.

His grandpa put down his newspaper. "So…Shortman, what're your plans for today?"

"Well, I thought it'd be a good day to fly my kite…" he responded, pouring buttery syrup over his food.

Phil smiled. "And you would be right about that. The wind's perfect," he said, pointing towards the window. "Are you going all by yourself?"

"Yeah…" Arnold muttered out, cutting into the middle of his fluffy pancakes, "…until Gerald's done being with Phoebe."

When he looked up from his plate, Arnold noticed the odd expression on his grandpa's face, making him wonder if he had said something amiss.

"Phoebe…" his grandfather thought out loud, his face now turning pensive, "…is she the girl with the big glasses…the one who hangs around that girl that's always picking on you."

"Yep…Helga's her best friend," the blonde informed, taking his first bite.

The man's smirk grew sly. "So…Gerald's got himself a date, huh?"

Arnold blinked, surprised that his grandfather could pick that up so quickly. "Well yeah…" he confirmed as he grabbed a pitcher full of orange juice off the table and poured himself a drink. "…But he says it isn't," he added with an amused smile before he started drinking out of his glass.

"Ah…you kids. You grow up so fast," his grandpa mused with a light chuckle. He turned to his wife. "You know, Pookie…soon young Arnold here's gonna be going out on his own dates…"

"…Probably with that girl with the one eyebrow…" he added amusingly.

Arnold choked on some of his juice. "Grandpa…" he scolded as he was trying to recover; unable to stop the blush that came upon his face.

"What?" was all the elderly man said, shrugging his shoulders innocently.

"Helga…dear," a slurred, slow voice spoke out from behind the girl's door. "Are you…up yet?"

Stirred from her sleep, the girl in question opened her eyes as she groaned against her pillow. She eventually lifted up her head. "I am now…" she exclaimed at the door. "Thanks to you, Miriam…" the ten year old thought, disappointed at being interrupted from her wonderful dream.

"Oh…well okay then dear," Miriam said indifferently as she walked away, her footsteps becoming distant.

Helga reluctantly rose to sit upright in her bed. Yawning loudly, she rubbed the sleep from both her eyes. She pulled the covers off of her form and slid down off the bed, both feet on the floor. Now that she was standing, she stretched her arms over her head, causing her back to crack in the process. "Ah…" she sighed, satisfied. "That's better…"

Remembering that today was Saturday, the pajama clad girl walked over to her window, interested in the current weather. As she looked out, the sun's bright rays shone down upon her face. Noticing the limbs of the tree near her bedroom window sway, she opened up her pane, letting a wondrous breeze immediately fly into the room.

A slight smile tugged at the side of her mouth as she thought of all the things she could do today. "Speaking of which…" she thought, "…let me call Phoebe and see what she's doing today."

She jumped on her unmade bed and crawled towards her nightstand. Picking up the receiver of her phone, she dialed Phoebe's number.

"Hello…Heyerdahl residence…" her friend answered formally after three rings.

"Hey Pheebs…it's me," the blonde spoke as she comfortably began to lay herself out on her back.

"Oh…Ohayoo gozaimasu, Helga."

"Yeah, yeah…good morning in Japanese to you too…" Helga dismissed with a hand wave, although the tone of her voice was rather happy. "I'm calling to see if you had any plans for today…and I don't mean with your textbook," she joked, still smiling.

Phoebe briefly giggled. "You seem to be in good spirits this morning, Helga."

"Yeah well, I guess I woke up on the right side of the bed today…" she remarked, not admitting the full reason.

It had been the genuine actions of a certain blonde haired boy that was the cause of her cheerful mood. After an afternoon of writing free-flowing poetry about her beloved, she had been blessed that night with romantic dreams of the two together; producing a smile that was permanently etched upon her face. It all practically made her want to swoon here and now, but, remembering that her friend was on the phone, she kept it under wraps.

"So…what'd you say, Pheebs? We could go to the Arcade or fly a kite or something. I'll even let you choose…" she suggested.

There was hesitation in the girl's voice, "Ah…I appreciate the offer…but uh, there's some…business I have to attend to…"

Helga blinked at the change in Phoebe's tone. More attentive, she used her elbows to prop herself further up; now seated upright against her pillows. "What kind of business?" she questioned. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh…yes," Phoebe responded, calming her friend's worry. "I just promised Father that I would go with him to the shop and help him buy more fencing equipment."

"Geez…Phoebe," Helga breathed out, relieved. "I thought that something else was going on." Her shoulders relaxed. "Was that the only business you were talking about?"

"Well…" the dark-haired girl drew out. "Father needs me this afternoon but…I also do have other plans this morning…"

She paused for a few seconds before she continued on, her voice gradually lowering into a barely audible whisper, "…with…Gerald."

"With…who?" Helga furrowed her brow, not quite hearing the last part. She pressed the phone closer to her ear, hoping this person wasn't whom she thought it was.

"It's actually…with whom…" Phoebe corrected, clearly stalling.

"Phoebe…" the pig-tailed girl interjected, growing impatient. "This isn't the time for a grammar lesson. Now spit it out. Who is it?"

Her best friend sighed nervously but she said it again in a much louder voice. "I have plans this morning with Gerald…"

Helga stiffened, taken aback. "With…Gerald?" she slowly repeated through her teeth.

"He invited me yesterday at lunch," she spoke quickly, sensing her tension. "If I had known you wanted to do something today, Helga…I would have certainly declined or rescheduled…"

Wavering once again in her speech, Phoebe released a breath before she asked her, "You wouldn't want to join us…would you?"

A familiar scowl flashed upon Helga's face as her brow lowered. In a swift motion, she stood up off the bed. "No…" she declared strongly into the phone while gesturing. "Criminy…why would I want to be the third wheel on you and Tall hair boy's date…"

"D-Date?" Phoebe stuttered, probably blushing, the blonde thought. "It isn't a date, Helga. It's just an outing with a friend. Gerald doesn't even see me in that way…" she trailed off.

This response only caused Helga to roll her eyes, frustrated by Phoebe's obvious denial. It was very clear to her that the two liked each other…or in more juvenile terms…"liked, liked." But Phoebe wouldn't admit it. And this only further worked on Helga's nerves. It was like she was being toyed with before her best friend was finally snatched away from her for good.

Helga clenched onto the phone, speaking without much thought. "Yeah…Pheebs, those pathetic, sappy looks you two give each other mean nothing…absolutely nothing…" she hissed out, drenched with sarcasm.

A soft gasp immediately reached her ear. The two girls had hardly ever mentioned Gerald, let alone talked about Phoebe's partiality towards him. So, Helga knew as soon as the words flew out of her mouth that her friend wasn't only surprised by them but was also embarrassed. Still, the blonde couldn't help what she'd said; she was becoming more and more irritated with this whole situation.

"Helga…?" Phoebe eventually squeaked out, obviously surprised by her words but also by her tone. "Is…something wrong?"

"No…everything's fine," the upset girl wanted to snap out, her sarcasm again heighten by the frustration she felt. "You don't have a date with Geraldo and I'm not gonna lose my best friend!"

But, Helga immediately decided against it. She could just imagine how pathetic she would seem if she said something like that. She didn't want to give away any signs that she feared losing Phoebe's friendship…especially if the danger wasn't even there to begin with.

Yet, now, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, Helga couldn't shake the feeling that there was indeed a danger: a danger that hadn't come into the forefront until after the pairs' recent growing intimacy. She clearly remembered what happened at lunch yesterday. "And now there's this…" she mused, slowly lowering herself back down on her bed as her thoughts became deeper.

It couldn't be possible, she reasoned, that Phoebe would prefer being with some boy that stupidly flirted with her over her best friend…the very one she's had ever since preschool. "There's no way she would choose him over me…right?" she questioned herself as uncertainty seeped into her thoughts.

Uncomfortable with the doubts she now felt on this manner, Helga became determined to do something about it. Even if Phoebe wasn't aware of the possible danger that loomed over their relationship…she was, and she finally concluded to herself that it was her job to protect whatever they had.

Soon realizing that she still didn't answer her friend's question, Helga decided to use this opportunity. She resolved to respond honestly but, not without also trying to make Phoebe feel slightly guilty. "No…I was…just hoping that today we could do something together…" she said, stressing the last word.

Phoebe sighed. "I'm really sorry, Helga. I can't break my plans. But…I'll be sure to make it up to you…I promise."

The blonde groaned, dissatisfied. That wasn't the answer she wanted but, she knew she had to take it. At the very least, Phoebe had promised and she knew that the small girl was always sincere when she gave her word. "Fine…" she conceded as she huffed out a sigh. "But you better stick to your promise," she added with some authority, trying to add emphasis.

"Of course, I will, Helga. You have my word…"

Helga couldn't help feeling slightly better at her reassurance however; she didn't have much time to mull over it since she heard Phoebe suddenly exclaim, "Oh my…it's almost nine. I better hurry. I wouldn't want to be late."

"Yeah…" Helga muttered out rather distantly. "You wouldn't want to be late for Geraldo," her mind bitterly added.

"I'll see you at Geraldfield tomorrow…right?" her best friend asked quickly.

"Yep…"

"Well, see you then, Helga…"

"Yeah, bye Pheebs…" she sighed.

A quick click on the other line followed Helga's final utterance. Lingering absentmindedly until she heard the dial tone, she roughly placed the phone back down on its receiver. She instantly used her fingers to rub one of her temples as an irritated groan escaped out of her. She persisted in this action until her eyes lied upon her night wear and she reluctantly decided, at the very least, to get dressed.

She rose, grabbing some clothes and headed to the bathroom. After a few minutes, she finally emerged back into her room, clothed in her usual pink jumper and white shirt. She quickly made up her bed, sighing as she pulled at the covers. "I can't believe Tall hair boy moved so fast…" she pondered, not considering the part Phoebe could have also played in arranging their little "get-together."

"Hmph…not a date, my foot,"she muttered out loud."Criminy…what kind of fool do they take me for?"

She shook her head. "Geraldo must have planned this," she concluded to herself. "Well, if he thinks that he can just suck up all of my time with Phoebe…he's got another thing coming. So, he better enjoy his little 'non-date' with her because if he gets in the way again…I'll make sure he pays." With that decision, her lips curled up into a sly smirk as she confidently marched out of her room with her head held high.

However, in spite of this, she reentered the room a few seconds later, grabbing the ever important ribbon that had been absent off the top of her head. She huffed as she quickly tied it to her hair, completing her pink outfit. Scowling, she roughly trudged out of her room and towards the stairs; all along the way wordlessly blaming Gerald for her absentmindedness.

While she was descending the house's stairs, she could distinctly hear her father yelling at the television. Indifferent to Bob's hollering, she walked towards the kitchen. But once inside, she noticed her mother sleeping, head resting on the small table as she softly snored.

Helga glanced shortly at the scene, frowning before she opened up the refrigerator. Looking inside, she realized that it was nearly empty except for a few condiments, some questionable leftovers, and a carton of milk. She curiously brought the carton to her nose, almost losing her appetite at the smell. "Yuck!" she thought as she put it back. "This reeks…"

With a slam of the refrigerator door, she determined to eat breakfast out, knowing that the cupboards were probably practically bare as well since Miriam hadn't gone grocery shopping yet.

She left the kitchen and stomped towards the front door, still not sure where she was going or what she was going to do. A scowl had remained upon her face; her overall mood greatly decreased from what it had been before the phone call. "Ah, Phoebe better make this up to me…" she muttered out as she turned the door knob, considering how boring her day would probably be without her best friend.

Regardless of this, though, she opened up the door, pausing at the threshold as she attempted to announce her leaving over the loud clamor of the television. "I'm going out now…" she yelled out, hoping that this declaration didn't fall on deaf ears. Yet, when she received no response, as usual, Helga sighed before she slowly closed the door behind her.

Author's Endnotes:

Well, I guess that'll have to do… *Shrugs*

The pigeon part was totally on a whim. I was actually going to delete it but, for some reason I couldn't. :)

Now that this is posted, I can start on Chapter 4 and work on finishing up some of my other writings…all while trying to stay cool in this infernal heat. Whoo! *Fans self*

Hopefully, it won't take me another year to update…

Next— Let's Go Fly a Kite (Part 2)