"And we took too many shots, think we kissed, but I forgot." - Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F), Katy Perry

"As I'm looking to the sky to count the stars, I wonder if you see them where you are." - Walk On Water or Drown, Mayday Parade

Twenty-One Forever - Chapter Four

"Should we be doing this? Won't we get in some sort of trouble?"

"No, Football Head. You only get in trouble if you get caught, and I promise you, we won't get caught," Helga wrapped her hand around Arnold's wrist and pulled him forward, practically dragging his body through the sand. Sneaking out at midnight to go onto a closed beach was not something Arnold had planned on doing.

He actually never really planned on doing anything tonight, so now he was fumbling around in the dark in his pajamas with Helga G. Pataki. Oh, boy, how did he get into this mess?

He was used to hanging out with Helga over their summer breaks. It was like an unspoken truce between them, when Helga wouldn't explode over every little thing and Arnold would butt out of Helga's life unless she came to him. They'd been coming to the beach since fourth grade, and now the two thirteen-year-olds had fallen into a routine. But they'd never sneaked out after dark before, let alone on their last night at the beach.

The two finally emerged from beyond the sand dunes and natural vegetation and onto the flat, open span of beach. It was completely deserted, not a soul in sight. Helga was surprised, she assumed a bonfire would be happening. Quickly opening her beach towel, Helga set it on the sand and collapsed onto it, laughing as Arnold fell on top of her.

"Comfy," Arnold wiggled his shoulders deeper into Helga's stomach.

Helga struggled to get a solid grip on him since he kept moving. "Get off!"

Arnold rolled over so now their stomachs were touching. He rested his chin in his hands, using his elbows to keep Helga down, "Nope. I like it. You're very warm," he pressed down a little harder, "and comfortable." It was true. Helga had extremely soft skin and seemed to be holding extra body heat tonight. Nights on the beach became cold, especially near the water when the ocean breeze rolled in and splashed cold water into the air. Helga was curled up in her favorite over-sized sweatshirt, tank top and running shorts.

Helga kicked her legs into the air. "Shut up and get off me before I kick your ass!"

"Nope!" Arnold leaned in closer to Helga, now practically laying on top of her. Their lips were just inches. . .

Helga shifted upwards, snarling, "I will murder you!"

Arnold, the pacifist that he was, rose to his feet before offering a hand to lift Helga up. She held her hand out before becoming a dead weight. Arnold laughed, "Come on, don't do this to me!"

"Payback's a bitch, Arnoldo. Besides, you're weak. You can't even lift me off the ground and I weigh less than a hundred pounds!"

Arnold smirked before bending down and lifting Helga in his arms, bridal style. She laughed and kicked sand into the air, "Let me go! You proved your point!"

Arnold shook his head no, running forwards into the ocean. Helga screamed louder, but Arnold silenced her by pressing his hand to her mouth. She gently bit down, causing Arnold to laugh out of surprise.

Unknown to Arnold and Helga, they were flirting. Big time. But their semi-innocent minds had not yet experienced the peer pressures that misinformed them on the social interactions between girls and boys of a certain age.

A large wave rolled over Arnold's hips, just barely grazing the low of Helga's back. "I swear to God, Arnold, if you drop me I will kill you!" She clawed herself higher into Arnold's arms, her nails digging into his shoulders. Arnold hoisted her higher, avoiding the water, but he became soaked in the process.

"I would never drop you!" he repeated for the tenth time. Helga simply glared at him as another wave crashed down.

Sensing her distress, Arnold returned to shore and their small towel. He shivered violently, twitching as the wave of chills traveled down his body. Helga watched him with a confused expression, laughing as he sat down beside her. "We should dry off or something."

Helga rubbed the droplets of water off her legs before sinking deeper into her towel. "My ass is a little wet, but other than that I'm okay. Maybe you should've thought your little stunt through."

Arnold sighed, falling back against the towel, realizing Helga was right. Another chill shook Arnold's body, and before he knew what he was doing, he was shrugging off his shirt and pulling Helga close to him.

Holding in a squeal of surprised delight, Helga feigned disgust, "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"I'm freezing, wet and trying to dry off. And you're very warm," his face met with the dip in her exposed shoulder. He begged in a low whisper, "Please just let me warm up." Who could say no to that?

The silence was comfortable between them as Arnold pulled Helga even closer, his hand slipping under her sweatshirt and resting on her hip. Helga was definitely not going to complain.

"What are we supposed to be doing now?" Arnold asked.

"Relax," Helga replied as she rolled over to face him. Her hand shifted so now it was resting over his heart, "Watch the stars. Do nothing. It's our last night of summer."

Arnold nodded and turned his eyes to the stars. Instead of naming off constellations like he usually did, he was trying to convince himself that this situation was no big deal. He was just cuddling with Helga, watching the stars. . .nothing unusual or anything.

Who was he trying to kid? This was very weird. But at the same time, he didn't really mind.

A sense of calm flowed through Arnold as he subtly pulled Helga closer, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. Everything just seemed so natural between them that he didn't really want to question it.

Helga was panicking.

Her mind was reeling from the events of the last forty five minutes.

In that small amount of time, her body had been worshiped by Arnold's tongue, she half-smoked a cigarette, learned that Arnold was going to be living in New York, confessed to Arnold all of the confusion that was swirling around her drunken brain, and made it safely back inside. Only now she was locked in a private bathroom, hyperventilating.

Her phone rang with three new text messages, but Helga couldn't bring herself to read them. It was probably Phoebe, but she didn't want to see her now. She didn't want to see anyone.

Fifteen minutes later, Helga emerged from the bathroom completely calm. She went straight to the bar to do another shot of Vodka before searching for Phoebe or her roommate. Maybe she'd even find Alex if she got drunk enough.

When she reached the eleventh floor, she realized she was alone. Confused, she pulled open her phone.

9:15 P.M. PHOEBE: Gerald and I went back to the hotel. Haven't seen Arnold. We left your friends at the bar.

9:20 P.M. PHOEBE: Arnold took your friends home.

9:35 P.M. PHOEBE: Arnold's still not back yet.

Knowing Arnold, he wouldn't leave her apartment until she arrived home safely. Rolling her eyes, Helga went off in search of her coat.

*21*

"You. . .you and Helga should have sexxx!"

"I already did!"

"Not you, dumbo!"

These comments were followed by giggles until Alex finished off his extra large bottle of Smart Water. "You're so right though," he gasped as he regained his breathing post-chugging. "They totally should!"

Arnold blushed, fumbling to get the key into the lock. The faster they got settled into bed, the better.

"Really, you should. It'd be like magical, or something!"

Arnold rolled his eyes as he threw open the door. Holding one drunk person on his shoulder was hard, but two? It was almost impossible. He was going to collapse from Alex's weight alone.

It was easy to get them down the elevator and into the cab, they were less than twenty blocks away on neighborhood streets, but getting them up the stairs into Helga's apartment was another story entirely.

The entire time up the stairs, Alex tried singing Ke$ha and Katy Perry songs that were played at the club. Arnold tried not to claw his ears off. Drunk or not, Alex should never sing. Ever.

But then when Helga's roommate had flashbacks to Arnold's body shots, it became all she could talk about. He was definitely sober, and definitely intrigued as to what his drunken self did to Helga that had her friend so riled up. He remembered the overwhelming taste of flowery perfume and the fresh scent of her skin as he ran his tongue along it, but that was as far as it got. The rest was blurred.

Arnold first dropped Alex off at the couch, laughing as he face planted onto the sofa. Helga's roommate promptly flopped onto her bed, kicked off her heels and slipped under her covers.

Arnold then adjusted Alex's position on the couch so his body stretched across the entire thing and dropped a blanket on him before arranging everything else. He placed a trash can besides both of their heads. He searched the apartment for glasses of water and bottles of aspirin before setting them within arms reach of each drunk.

And now he could finally leave, even though he had an empty, nagging feeling at the back of his head. He needed to find Helga. Maybe I should wait here. . .he thought before collapsing onto the smaller couch.

Helga stumbled up the stairs in her heels, once again cursing herself for wearing such high shoes when she knew that there wasn't an elevator in her building.

All she wanted was to curl up in her pajamas and go to sleep and forget about today. As soon as she opened the door and saw Arnold staring at her, she realized that wouldn't happen.

"I want to talk to you," he whispered. Helga pointed to the glass door behind them, directing Arnold out to the patio. She flashed him a peace sign, hoping he'd get the hint that she wanted two minutes to change.

Clearly that shot she downed before leaving was giving her courage to face this head on. Or maybe it was the second one she did after she found her coat?

Helga threw on her thick pajama bottoms, a long sleeved shirt, socks, her favorite gray over-sized sweatshirt that said HILLWOOD BASEBALL that she had since she was a kid, grabbed two blankets and opened the patio door.

She knew this would be the longest night of her life.

"Let's get this over with," Helga grumbled as she sat down on her deck chair. "What do you want to talk about?"

Arnold wrapped the blanket around his shoulders before answering, "Everything."

"Fucking fantastic," she muttered to herself, but Arnold still heard her. "Alright, well. . .talk."

"Are you okay?"

"Just a little drunk," Helga shot back, laughing. "I did two shots before coming home because I knew this would happen. But I don't care what you say, I want to get this over with. Drunk or not, we're talking this out."

"Uh, okay."

Helga sunk deeper into her blanket cocoon, waiting for Arnold to say something. Instead, he just watched her. "Talk!" she hissed.

"It's been eight years. We have a lot of catching up to do," Arnold smiled. It was quiet between them until he asked, "You remember the night on the beach?"

"Yeah," she nodded, fingers toying with the end of her sweatshirt sleeve.

Arnold shifted back in his chair, "You remember all the flirting we did, the cuddling and everything?"

"Yes. I spent a long time trying to forget about it."

"Why?"

"Because it was a one time thing at the beach. Nothing had changed. Back at school, sure, I wasn't as mean to you as before, but that didn't mean I could just drop my act completely."

"But you did at the beach. Why not at Hillwood?"

"Because I had a reputation to uphold. I couldn't let everyone think I was going soft just because we had a meaningless interaction on the beach, could I?"

"It wasn't meaningless." Helga laughed. "At least, not to me." Helga said nothing. "That night was important to me. It was when I realized I like-liked you."

Helga's first thought was Who the hell still says 'like-liked'? before the reality of his words set in. "Oh."

"Yeah, it was kind of a shock to me, honestly. The more I thought about it, though, the more I liked the idea of being with you. I tried to gather up the courage to tell you, but all I could think about was F.T.I. - "

"It never happened."

Arnold leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, "What never happened? The beach? F.T.I.?"

"All of it! Nothing ever happened between us, okay? I just picked on you, alright?"

"Why are you denying this. . .us?"

"Us?" Helga rolled her eyes. "Please, Arnold, get real."

"I always thought we had. . .something, at least. I had always thought you were nice, and just hiding it with your bullying, and there were times when you proved me right. Every time we went to the beach together I was just reminded that you were a nice girl, Helga, but you were scared."

Much to her embarrassment, tears escaped her eyes. Instead of drawing attention to them, she said, "I'm not scared."

"Then why did you take it back?"

It was silent on the roof, the noises of the busy streets seemed to disappear with the howling of the wind. Helga said nothing as tears continued to fall.

Arnold watched her, feeling a violent tug at his heart. He needed to say something. He opened his mouth, but Helga cut him off with a yell, "No, just go! I'm done! Leave! It's what you do best anyway!"

Arnold slowly rose to his feet, feeling the emotional weight of night finally settle in on his shoulders. That was a verbal bitch slap, and it definitely stung.

"I could say the same about you."

Helga froze for a moment. Did he really just - ? "Oh, hell no, Football Head!" she seethed, "I left because you were leaving!"

"I left to find my parents, and I find out a month later in a letter that you had run away!" Arnold's voice was rising, "Do you know how badly I felt? You ran away because of me. I felt guilty for even wanting to leave!" Helga wiped the tears off her cheeks but said nothing. "I tired my hardest to get back to you, Helga, I really did. But I was scared too. I had never felt like this about someone before. I didn't know what to do. I spent half of my time convincing myself that everything would be okay, and the other half convinced that you were in trouble."

"I wasn't."

"You don't call quaffing to escape your pain trouble?"

"No," she replied indignantly.

Arnold sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, "I came here to see if you wanted to at least try to work something out, because I know you're still hurt, but I guess you don't want to." Helga nodded, more tears rolling down her cheeks. "Look, I'll leave you alone forever, if that's what makes you happy." Arnold slowly moved from his standing position towards the door.

Helga was sobbing now, but that didn't stop her from yelling out, "I took it back because I knew you'd never love me the way I loved you!"

Arnold let go of the door handle, overwhelmed with the chills. The power and heartbreak behind her words made him ache. "How. . .how did you know I didn't?"

Helga's voice lowered to an accusatory tone, "Did you?"

Arnold turned around, feeling the world shift with him. "I could have, if you let me, if you had just told me. . ."

Helga jumped to her feet and shoved Arnold into her glass door, almost causing it to shatter. "You're the one who suggested it be heat of the moment!"

"I knew you were lying!"

"You. . . gahhh!" Helga clenched her fists and pushed them into Arnold's chest. Instead of shoving her off, Arnold wrapped his hands around her wrists, hesitantly uncurling her fingers.

"I know you still love me, Helga."

With those six words Helga felt a mixture of complete relief and sheer terror. The past eight years worth of pain just seemed to blend together and form a small, minute cloud in the back of her mind. The last half hours confession released everything else she'd had pent up, all of that anger and frustration just seemed to melt away. She felt free, but at the same time still hesitant. Helga's eyes remained glued to their intertwined fingers. "So. . .what if I do?" she whispered.

"I've always liked you, after all this time," he paused as Helga tried to hide her smile. "I want to take you on a date," he let one hand go and ran it through her hair before cupping her cheek, "maybe dance the tango somewhere, or go ice skating, or back to a beach. I just want to be with you. . .the real you that I know that's still deep down inside of you." Helga swallowed hard, suddenly feeling at a loss for words.

"After your date," she smirked, "we'll have to do things my way, New York Helga's way. Clubs, drinking," she walked two fingers up Arnold's shoulder, "body shots."

Arnold chuckled, feeling Helga suddenly relax against him. "I think I can manage," he replied in a low, husky voice. A chill of pleasure shot down Helga's spine and bubbled in her toes.

"The night's still young, Football Head. Think we can do it my way first?"

"Oh, I'd love to," he replied, forcing open the patio door and stumbling backwards inside. Helga quickly disappeared into her room to change, feeling excitement and butterflies swirl in her stomach.

Tonight was going to the greatest night of her entire life and she hoped she'd never forget it.