Chapter 48
You deserve it…
"What about Golden Hero? Or…who you wanted him to be anyway."
"Oh, no, not that again," Helga thought.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she said uneasily.
"You know, 'Golden Hero'? The person who kept emailing you all those love letters? Who turned out to be Brainy?"
"Oh, him. Well, what, you think I love Brainy?" Helga asked, laughing at the absurdity of the thought.
"No. I think you love someone, and you thought it was Golden Hero was him, but it was Brainy."
Helga was silent.
"And I know it's true too because you told me."
"I did?"
"See, you admitted it," Arnold said proudly, pleased that he finally had the upper hand.
"Fine, fine, fine, but I never told you!"
"Not right out, but I figured it out."
"Oh…" she said slowly, realization dawning on her.
"Maybe he's losing his denseness," she thought.
"Okay, so what?" Helga finally said. "So I like a guy, is that a crime?"
"Who is it?"
"Like I'd tell," she said harshly, snatching her book back.
"Just wondering."
"Well, don't! Just…forget this ever happened."
"I'm not Phoebe. You can't tell me what to do."
"I have my ways," Helga said menacingly, holding up her fist.
"Okay, okay, I get your point."
Helga turned away, still shocked that he had figured out so much.
"Okay, so now he knows that he has a secret admirer who writes books of obsessive poetry about him in little pink books. And he knows that I have a little pink book that I write obsessive poetry in! Criminy, can he not put two and two together? It's only a matter of time now before he figures everything out. Or until I snap and tell him everything myself!" she thought with dismay. "I guess he always knew I liked someone he just doesn't know who. It's pretty weird that he didn't figure it out though. I practically handed him my secret…"
She started to think about it, and the more she thought about it, the stranger it became that he didn't figure it out. Sure, it hadn't been a real 'confession', but it had been pretty darn close…
It had been a couple months ago. It was a normal, boring school day until this sixth grade beauty and third grade nerd walked in. They started talking about how all the kids were going to be getting email files or something. Helga wasn't exactly paying attention to what they were saying. She was paying attention to Arnold paying attention to the sixth grader, Mary Margaret.
After school, she logged onto her computer with her new screen name 'Helgoth'. There was already a message for her. She read it in amazement.
To: Helgoth
From: GoldenHero
Subject: I Dream of a Brilliant Love
Dear Helga,
I have been silent, but now at
last I can speak-by E-mail-and
tell you of my love. Helga, you
inspire me as I roam among
fantastic shadows, as I sit behind
you on the bus, and as I pick
strands of rubber off my sneakers
like you pick strands of love from
my wounded heart.
I wait for you, sweet Helga,
among the softly rustling stars.
Golden Hero
Helga read the letter again, but she had no clue who had sent it. Obviously someone in her class, otherwise they wouldn't have known her screen name, but who? She had to find out.
To: GoldenHero
From: Helgoth
Subject: Your Anonymous Note
Okay, Golden Hero, what exactly
are you getting at? And more to
the point: WHO ARE YOU? The only
kind of story I hate more than a romance is a mystery.
She clicked the send button, and almost immediately a message popped up. Did this guy have nothing better to do than sit by his computer, waiting for her to write back?
To: Helgoth
From: GoldenHero
Subject: My Anonymous Note
Dear Helga,
Thank you so much for your reply.
I am lashed by the furious tides
of love, dancing like a cork on
the waves, held up only by hope.
As to your question: Who am I? It
doesn't matter. My name is but a
pale piece of driftwood on the
fitful sea.
What does matter is you. I know
all about you. I know about the
locket you carry. I know about the
shrine you have in your locker. I
know about the desperate love you
harbor in your misunderstood heart,
and I CARE.
Please don't let me drown in this
fermenting swamp of unspoken love.
Take my hand before I sink.
Golden Hero
Helga almost fainted. How on earth could he know? Nobody knew! Nobody! And yet, he did. But how? How could he know of her secret love for that football headed, tiny-blue-hatted, golden-haired…
"Wait a minute. Golden haired? Golden Hero?" She gasped, realizing the wonderful truth. "It's Arnold! My golden hero!"
She emailed Phoebe about the whole thing, and Phoebe didn't believe her. She said she wanted to do some 'investigating' to figure out who he really was, but Helga wouldn't let her. Too risky.
The next day Helga logged onto her computer and sent a letter back to Arnold.
To: GoldenHero
From: Helgoth
Subject: US!
Dearest Golden Hero,
You have made me so happy! I
think I've always known that one
day you would find me, but I
must confess I came close to despair at
times. And now we have truly found
each other at last!
Yet I think we must meet for our
joy to be complete. Think of it!
Each of us so very shy, so modest,
so insecure, yet we will be able
to gaze into each others eyes at
last and know the truth that is
our beautiful love.
I shall always be grateful
to this electronic medium that
allowed you to emerge from your
shy, retiring shell, but-enough
already. Let us meet for real!
Devotedly yours,
Helga
P.S. Carry a red rose when we
meet so I shall know it is thee!
The next day Helga received Arnold's letter, saying that he accepted. She hugged herself tightly and screamed at the top of her lungs.
"Helga? Are you okay?" her mother called from downstairs.
"I'm FINE, Miriam! I'm great! I'm ecstatic!"
She couldn't believe it! Arnold was actually going to meet her on Saturday! He even promised to carry the red rose! Everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
That Saturday she was forty-five minutes early, but she didn't care. She waited for him at the corner on Ninth Street and Washington. She couldn't wait for him to come, and yet she wished he never would. This was her big moment of truth with Arnold. WHAT THE HECK WAS SHE GOING TO DO?
"Just do it," she thought to herself. "Let whatever happens happen. Don't hold anything back. Tell him everything." She was suddenly struck by a horrible thought. "What if it's not Arnold? I really don't have any proof that it is… But it has to be him! Who else could it possibly be?"
Suddenly she saw him across the street. So it was him!
She smiled at him as he walked up.
"Oh, how I have hoped and prayed for this moment! This is the best day of my life, thanks to you, Arnold! Oh, how do I tell thee? How do I convey the depth of my lo-"
Suddenly she stopped. She heard a familiar raspy breath over her right shoulder. Didn't it just figure that Brainy would show up at her big confession? Oh, well. She delivered her usual reflexive back punch, which knocked him cold.
"Where was I? Oh yeah-"
"Helga, you're here to meet Golden Hero, right?" Arnold interrupted, a little uneasily. Helga sure wasn't acting like herself. And why did she just punch the guy she loved?
"Oh, yes!" Helga breathed, leaning closer to him. "Speaking of Golden Hero, where's your red rose?" she asked coyly.
"Okay, now she's really not acting like herself," Arnold thought, getting a little scared. "What does she mean, my red rose? Maybe she's just so excited she doesn't know what she's talking about. Yeah, that's it. She means Brainy's red rose, not mine."
Arnold pointed behind her. She turned to look and saw Brainy, clutching a red rose.
She screamed and turned to Arnold.
"Is this your idea of a JOKE? Well, I hope you got a big kick out of it…" Tears sprung to her eyes. "You sure got me good, football head!" She shoved him out of the way and ran down the street.
How could she have been so stupid? How could she have let herself believe it was Arnold? She should have let Phoebe investigate it. How many more heartbreaks could she take?
The next day at school Helga tried to avoid Arnold as much as possible, but as fate would have it, she couldn't stay that way long.
She turned the corner and suddenly crashed into Arnold.
"Watch it!" she shouted.
"Helga."
"Keep your eye on the road, football head!" she said irritably, standing up.
"Look, Helga, I'm glad we, uh, ran into each other. I wanted to talk to you."
"About what? New ways to humiliate me?"
"Helga-I want to apologize for that whole thing. It really wasn't meant to hurt you. I'm really sorry that you were disappointed about who Golden Hero turned out to be."
"Just forget about it, okay?" she snapped.
"Oh, what the heck. If he's trying to apologize, the least I can do is play along," she thought.
She turned to Arnold and sighed. "Look…I guess you weren't setting me up. Let's pretend the whole thing never happened."
"Sure, Helga. I'll never mention a word of it to anyone."
"Good," she said, smiling a little.
"Helga?"
"What?"
"I just want to say-I know how it feels to be disappointed like that."
"He must be talking about Mary Margaret," she thought, but decided to keep quite about it.
"You do?"
"Yeah. I feel really dumb because I hoped someone liked me who didn't even know I existed. Look, I'm sorry Golden Hero wasn't who you wanted him to be. I just hope that whoever the guy is-the one you wished Golden Hero was-well, I hope he does find you someday. You deserve it."
Helga looked at him in amazement. "He thinks I deserve him?" she thought with delight. "Why? I don't even care. The point is, he does." She was so touched she nearly swooned, but she quickly recovered.
"Yeah, maybe someday. In his dreams!" Then she turned around and ran down the street.
"Oh Arnold, my golden hero! I do deserve you, and someday you will be mine! Someday…"