VII

Separate ways

Helga and Gerald blinked a few times. They've never heard Arnold so angry. And when Arnold was angry, you had to take care of yourself and think the words carefully to respond. Except Helga, of course. Helga could be angry all the time, and take no responsibility whatsoever, at any time and any place. That was a good advantage for her. She just shrugged at Arnold's mood and dropped the contents of the bag into the nearby trashcan, at the astounding look of the two. Arnold directed the flashlight at her, then at Gerald.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, WOMAN!?", Gerald yelled, desperatedly.

Helga scoffed. "I'm doing you a favour, buck-o! Or would you better like responding to the cops because you tried to kill me over a thousand dollar bag of shit?".

"He did not-".

"Oh, cut the crap, Arnoldo! Look at the dagger at your foot!", Helga screamed.

Arnold removed his foot and found a little toy knife. He took the handle in his hands. "What? This? It's just a toy, Gerald would never, ever harm anyone". He showed her it didn't even slice.

Helga's jaw dropped, but resumed composure. She put her arms in jars, as she raised an eyebrown. "You mean to tell me Gerald's a big fat loser, after all this time?".

"HEY!", Gerald screamed through teeth, tears in his eyes. He was still mourning over his lost bag of weed.

"I still can't believe it! You still are on his side! You know he could've really actually kill me if the knife was real!", Helga yelled at Arnold.

"No, no! I didn't thought that way!", he replied, waving his hands in defense.

"What? Am I not good enough for you? Maybe you will defend fucking Lila? Is that it?", she grabbed him by the collar, and dropped him to the floor.

Arnold coughed. "What... does... this have anything to do... with Lila?".

Helga blinked, as she realized she made a mistake. "I... just... had to prove a point!", she shrugged.

"Oh, I'm gonna prove mine-!", Gerald suddenly started struggling with Helga, trying to find both his arms to her neck.

Arnold looked at the struggle, but he didn't want to intervene, he was still pissed off. Even though as she elbowed Gerald's face many times, and the last's screaming in pain, she didn't look too good. And when he started to see Helga's face turning blue, he gasped, as he yelled a "STOP IT!", blinking many times his flashlight, and finally pulling his two struggling best friends apart. Helga was on the floor, kneeling and gasping for air, as Gerald was cleaning up his nose and keeping it from bleeding again.

"Are you ok?", Arnold asked, really concerned, as he kneeled beside Helga and put a hand over her shoulder.

Helga scoffed, and pulled Arnold's away. "Go to hell! And I thought you were a goody-two-shoes! But in reality, you're a fucking sissy!".

"Helga-", Arnold started, but he was cut off.

Helga put a hand over his face. "No! You'll have to fix this, Football Head, on your own, or you'll never see me ever again!". And with that statement, she left, walking a bit lightheaded, as she turned left and dissapeared.

Arnold looked like an idiot at the figure disappearing through the cloudy night.

"Well, good riddance!", Gerald said as he clasped his hands together.

Suddenly, Arnold snapped at his future former best friend. "Yeah? Well, good riddance to you too! I hope I see you in hell for what you did!".

Gerald looked at Arnold like if he grew a second head. "What? What did I do?!", he shrugged.

Arnold turned to see Gerald, as anger boiled inside of him. "First! You induce me into that shit of yours, then, you hook me up with Lila, knowing she turned a slut over the years, and next, you try to kill Helga. Damn it! She was right!", he put his hands over his head. "Argh! I can't take it anymore! I'm going to rehab!".

"But what-?! Why?", Gerald asked, still absorbing the information.

Arnold started going away. "I don't know, Gerald, you just tell me when you feel you hit the bottom. I expect you to go to rehab soon".

Gerald looked at his friend go, with a dumbfounded expression. He shook his head. "Bold guy…".

As Helga tapped her recently broken wrist watch on her left hand, she reached the front door of her house. Tears escaped her eyes suddenly as she reached the doorknob and stood inside. She thought it was too late to escape Bob's screamings and yellings. But she found her house the usual mess, and snorings coming from the living room. The TV in the living room was still on but no signal displayed, and Bob was sleeping on the couch with his mouth open and dripping saliva, a can of beer in his hands staining the floor. Miriam was on top of the couch seat, also sleeping, her butt offering Helga a good view and a sudden suggestion of kicking it. But her thoughts were on Arnold, and her broken heart. Her recent fight raced her mind as she dragged her feet over the stairs and to her room, crying. She was worn out, as she stepped inside and collapsed on the pink bed. Maybe she could think things through in the morning, as she still had to do her college inscriptions. She was accepted at University of Virginia to apply for Arts, and she was definetly going to accept the fact she was leaving to campus in two weeks to check the facilities. The only thing from keeping her going away was her beloved… if her beloved knew what she was going through…. And if he was not such a dork for letting Gerald put a hand on her! Anger grew inside her at the thought. She shrugged it off, as she closed her eyes and found the much needed sleep.

R&R people! More coming soon...