A/N: Just a little note to tell you that since I started this story almost 9 years ago and I have since changed my mind about how it will go plot-wise, there's been a few things in the old chapters that I no longer remember where I was going with them and they kind of became a nuisance. But I couldn't figure out what exactly to fix or how to do it. But then I got a great review last chapter that helped me pin point exactly what I wanted to do. So shout out to AmorFatiAhMi for your great and also helpful review.

Anyway, my point is I changed a few things so you might want to go read the previous chapters because and I don't want anyone to be confused. They are not necessarily big things, but they might be significant for some people (as some of you have mentioned them in your reviews), so it's up to you, but I'm letting you guys know just in case.

Please read on, review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

-Arnold's Love

"Words I Couldn't Say"

Chapter 14: "In the Words of Stinky Peterson"

(Arnold's POV)

I pulled out the chair across from Helga-the one where Cory had been sitting-and sat down. She was turned away from me, looking towards the door where Cory had left. I felt a little weird...sitting at a table with Helga G. Pataki after she'd just told creepy Cory off. I mean it's not like we were close buddies growing up, and since school had started now that she'd moved here, well, since the first day when I'd yelled at her (real nice, Arnold,) we'd only been together at lunches. Always there with Ben and Sandy around and they buffered the conversations and in turn making it so Helga and I had little interaction. And she'd just told another guy off, so maybe that waiter was right. But then again, probably not, I was pretty used to anything Helga could throw at me.

This was the first time I'd been alone with her since the night before I'd moved away from Hillwood, and our awkward and kind of insulting last conversation. The night I had I'd told her that I knew deep down she was a wonderful person and that I'd hoped to one day see it. I was starting to feel that desire again-the desire to see the deep, down wonderful person Helga could be. And, in fact, I had actually starting to see some truth to my words. Truth I had always known deep down, but frequently doubted from the way she had always acted.

She suddenly shuddered and spun back around to face me. Sitting back in her chair she let out a big sigh. "Ugh. He gives me stupid bumps," she remarked, cringing dramatically, and sticking out her tongue in disgust, a grimace lacing her lips.

I chuckled and smirked at her. "What in the world are 'stupid bumps'?" I asked her with a skeptical expression on my face.

She leaned forward putting her chin in one hand and moving her other one around animatedly. "It's like goose bumps. Only I get them when people do stupid stuff," she explained, coolly. Pulling her sleeve up she placed her arm on the table between us. "See? Look. Stupid bumps."

I looked down at her arms. Sure enough she had small little goose bumps all over her arm, like tiny little ant hills from her wrist to her elbow. "You sure you aren't just cold, Helga?" I asked, unconvinced.

She shook her head defiantly. "No way. I'm actually super overheated right now from all the conceited, creepy Cory chaos. So that leaves us with these- stupid bumps. Plain and simple," she stated matter-of-factly, a superior look on her face. "I used to get them all the time around Stinky Peterson back in the day," she added offhandedly.

"Helga," I reprimanded softly, rolling my eyes at her dramatics, but smiling all the same. It was amusing to me that not only did she get goose bumps from people acting in a way she thought was dumb, but also that it happened enough that she had a name for them. "But ok, fine. I accept your stupid bumps."

We kind of looked at each other for a second and then went back to picking at our food. I honestly didn't know what to say to Helga. I hardly knew her now…actually I've hardly ever known much about her my entire life. She wasn't anything like Sandy. Sandy had an innate ability to fill the silence if there ever was any-which there never was because we always had something to talk about with each other. But Helga was different. You could see in her eyes that her mind going a mile a minute but she never just said what she was thinking. Helga kept her thoughts inside, cached away from the world. It was something that has always intrigued me about her-the way you could see the gears spinning in her mind, but wish all you could, you'd never know what they were spinning.

She twitched her foot crazily for a few moments before finally looking back at the exit, her eyes narrowing angrily. "You know what?" she asked suddenly, still looking at the door. "I wish I could smash Cory over the head with a television."

I literally choked on an onion. Gagging for a few minutes (Helga not even noticing in her deep hatred of the entryway door to the restaurant) I finally revived myself and choked out, "A television?"

She nodded, in earnestness. "Yah. Like one of the old ones from the 90s...those big tube TVs that are big and heavy and bulky and just right for smashing against something hard, and dumb and hulking..." she trailed off holding her hands apart in the size of a large TV, "like Cory's head. I'd totally just come up behind him and smash it down on his head. It would be awesome," she exclaimed, smashing her hands down as if smashing her invisible TV.

"Helga!" I shook my head, never really understand Helga's violent tendencies. Big Bob's influence probably, poor girl. She never had a chance.

She looked at me incredulously. "What? He's a moron. You know it's true. Don't deny it." She looked at me and when I didn't respond and just took another bite of my food, she continued, "Plus he was dissing on you, Sandy, and Ben and I just wasn't gonna take that crap. I had to do something," she exclaimed emphatically. "I thought about taking that calzone you are currently enjoying and smashing it right in his face, but then the thought hit me that you might enjoy it. So be gracious, not judgmental, mister. That's the sweet taste of Helga G. Pataki holding back so you could have some dinner, stalker boy."

I felt a big smile on my face. Helga G. Pataki standing up for me? Her football-headed, childhood bully prey? Maybe Sandy was right, maybe people really could change. Or maybe it was that I had been right all along about her and she really was a good person deep down inside. A person who actually cared about everyone behind her purposefully rough exterior and sarcasim.

I touched her arm softly to get her attention again. "Well, thanks for standing up for us. That's really thoughtful of you." I gave her my most gracious smile when she finally turned to look at me.

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she looked down at my hand touching her arm, and then shrugged. "Uh...yah, sure, football head. What are friends for?"

I smiled at her again, feeling all warm inside that the big scene I had just witnessed was because she really was standing up for us-me included. Me, Arnold Shortman, the boy she used to bully mercilessly.

Trying to hide her smile, she looked at me and furrowed her brows. "What are you smiling all goofy at, you big dope?"

Pulling my hand away I continued smiled at her. "Well, I guess I just didn't realize you liked us so much. That you liked me so much," I said, immediately feeling embarrassed that I had added that last part. But I was genuinely surprised she cared enough to stand up for me considering our past and the way she'd always treated me.

Her cheeks flushed bright red again and she looked at me out the corner of her eye. "Eh, like I said, you guys are ok."

"Thanks, Helga," I said softly, winking at her, which only made her rub her cheek nervously and look away again.

(Helga's POV)

Did Arnold just wink at me? Are my cheeks as red as they feel? Am I actually sitting at a table, at a restaurant with Arnold-my Arnold?

Oh, my beautiful, bright, golden angel! I have you here all to myself! Oh what heavenly blessing has been poured down upon me! Oh, what joy! What rapture! Me and my beloved, alone at last! Enjoying out delicious fare while we converse about life…hopefully soon about love.

But probably not, considering how badly I was struggling to find words to say to him. I mean, what was wrong with me? Was I just out of practice when it came to talking to him or was I always this big of a goofwad? And seriously why was I still just sitting here not saying anything? He was kind of looking at me awkwardly, his smile slowly fading as he rubbed the back of his neck and then reached down for his calzone. I mean...why'd I just let the conversation die and this uncomfortable lull to commence instead. Get it together, Helga, you can do it. Say, something...anything!

"Oh my gosh! I totally just realized something! Your head is totally the same shape as that calzone you're eating!" I exclaimed, and then immediately wanted to face palm. Say anything, Helga, except that!

He gave me the most derisive expression I'd ever seen in my entire life and then stared down at his calzone; almost as if he wasn't sure he wanted to eat it anymore. There was a long (and equally uncomfortable silence) before he finally shook his head and took a bite.

I coughed at the weird silence. "Uh, yah, so anyway football head. How do you like the food?" I asked, happily-like way OVER happily-like my voice may have squeaked just a tad. "Pretty tasty, huh?"

"Yah, this is really good!" he exclaimed. Then he looked at me again, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "As long as I don't think about it being shaped like my head. So thank you for that," he added with a wink.

Another wink! Oh, my heart! I'm going to die. Bury me now. It's over. I'm done for. I'm a goner. I'm dead. The end.

"For real. I love calzones," I finally agreed smoothly, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned back in my chair for a moment. "Maybe because they're shaped like your head." I kind of choked on my words, but they had already spilled out of my mouth. Had I just revealed how much I actually loved his football shaped head? His glorious, oblong head that I write poetry about and may possible have built shrines of at one point? I immediately started panicking and had to focus on controlling my breathing instead of trying to say something else.

"Are you saying you've thought about eating my head?" he asked with a smug smirk.

Close call-maybe he didn't deeply register what I said. It's all good, Helga, ol' girl. Keep up the calm, cool, and collected charade. You've got this.

"Well your head was the cause of all Harold's weight problems..." I teased with a small smile.

He chuckled slightly. "Well he did always get a strange hankering for croissant rolls whenever we were hanging out."

I laughed out loud, smacking the table in front of me. When I finally could speak again without laughing I said, "hankering, huh? That reminds me of Stinky. 'Garsh, a-mighty, I sure do love lemon pudding," I imitated, nailing the impression as I always did.

"You like talking about Stinky, don't you?" he inquired then, staring at me with a puzzled expression.

I shook my head and put my hands up to ward off his question. "What? No! You just said hankering and-"

"Because," he interrupted, "you mentioned him earlier." He paused and then an amused smiled appeared on his luscious lips and he raised an eye brow at me. "Helga, did you have a thing for Stinky?" He his eyes widened slightly as both is eyebrows shot up. "Do you currently have a thing for Stinky?"

"What? No!" I repeated again, my voice getting higher and shook my head crazily.

"Are you sure?" He looked at me suspiciously. "Wait a second...weren't you guys like a thing back in 4th grade?"

I was still fumbling for words in my head. This conversation was getting way out of hand and into a zone I was not comfortable with. "Huh?"

But he ignored me. "Yah, I remember. He was crying in the park one time so he told me about how you dumped him and broke his heart." He looked up at me again curiously. "Do you still actually have feelings for him?"

"What? No," I said for the millionth time still frantically shaking my heads. Find words, Helga, you can do it. "I only dated him because...I just wanted...I was trying to..."

But he just smiled at me with that half-lidded, all-knowing, smug expression. "Whatever you say, Helga..."

Oh, joy. Another long, painful pause, cool. I could try telling myself to say something, but I know I'd probably just say something stupid again and ruin the moment. So instead I chose to sit there and eat my food while watching him up through my eye lashes. He was munching on his football shaped calzone and looking over at another table. I could tell he was feeling the awkward silence too, but I wasn't about to try again to start the conversation.

Not that the last time I hadn't been prolific...I mean it did cause us to have a decent sized conversation, but it has also involved me insulting him, almost ruining his appetite, and then admitting I liked the shape of his head. Which I had always vowed NOT to admit until we were happily married and on our honeymoon in the Bahamas, on a beach somewhere sipping drinks and dreaming of the future...not here, at a restaurant in front of other people with Arnold infatuated with someone who was NOT me and thinking I liked Stinky Peterson.

"You know," he said finally, drawing my thoughts back to the present as he gazed over at me again. "This kind of reminds me of the other time we had dinner together."

I felt my eyes go wide in shock and quite possible also in fear. Was he talking about the Valentine's Day when we were 9 and I had dressed up like his pen pal Cecile to try and win his heart? Had he finally figured out it was me and just never told me? Or had he known all along and just played my little game for some reason?

Misinterpreting my fear as confusion he asked, "what, you don't remember?" His football face looking a little disappointed.

Panicked by his disappointed expression I rushed on, "No, no, no I remember. I just didn't think you-"

But he interrupted me. "Didn't think I'd remember it pleasantly?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

What a strange thing for him to say. That I wouldn't think he'd remember it pleasantly. Had it been a bad dinner? I thought we'd had a nice time-well, except for when I ate cow's brains and eggs and threw up, but I didn't think he even knew about that! And hadn't he wanted to see me again after our "pleasant" evening. I would certainly hope-no expect that he would remember that night pleasantly. The night he had dinner with Cecile...a.k.a. me, Helga.

Not sure what to say, I began hesitantly, "Well, not ex-"

But he interrupted me again. (Honestly I thought Arnold had better conversational manners then this.)

"Of course I do," he admitted quickly. "I mean you were so sophisticated and I-"

Wait a second…I think we are on two different pages here...

"Well, until the cockroach thing," he added teasingly, an amused grin on his face. "But I still think that was a really nice night don't you? I mean we even managed to have fun washing dishes afterwards."

"Oh yah, heh heh!" I forced out a laugh nervously. "That was fun."

I guess he didn't remember Cecile. I kind of wish he had, I mean it would have been nice to finally have that all out on the table and maybe hear some of his thoughts on the night, but I wasn't about to confess that now that I knew he didn't actually know it had been me.

"Anyway," Arnold was saying, his green eyes sparkling happily, "it's nice. Eating-having dinner with you again, I mean." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, but then looked up at smiled at me softly. "Lets not wait another 10 years to do it again sometime."

Okay, the word swooning doesn't even begin to come close to describing the way I was feeling at that statement from Arnold. I was swooning, swooping, flying, soaring, dancing, dreaming, sighing-I felt lightheaded and my heart and mind were singing with joy. Arnold wanted to have dinner with me again! With me, Helga G. Pataki! What alternate reality was I in? None! This was real life! And I couldn't be happier!

"Yah, good-good call," I said smoothly. (Okay, I didn't actually say it smoothly...but I tried to sound calm, cool and collected. I actually think I might have yelled it a little too loudly...)

"Well, actually I guess we won't! I mean for homecoming we can all eat together again! And that's next weekend!" he exclaimed, excitedly, looking to me to see if my reaction matched his.

I tried to hide my deflated expression. I was thinking that having dinner just the two of us was what he had meant, not the four of us...not with Sandy. Sandy the girl of his dreams. He noticed my disenchantment though, but mistook it's meaning.

"We could even do it here, at Craigos! Order calzones all around!" He seemed really excited about this, as if that was going to fix my disappointment. Poor dense little goody-two-shoes.

"Yah," I said lamely, "that would be cool."

He seemed a little surprised my excitement didn't equal his. But he continued on the homecoming course anyway. "Sandy said you guys are going dress shopping tomorrow."

Oh, yah. I'd almost forgotten. "Yep."

His eyes glazed over for a second (I'm sure because he was thinking about her but what do I know.) "She was really excited, dancing around and stuff. Are you? I mean I know you aren't like into that kind of stuff-"

I shot him a look and fixed him with a glare.

Quickly back-paddling he said, "Or at least you weren't when I used to know you, so you probably aren't excited. But she was really excited. So maybe you guys will still have a good time," he finished lamely.

"Well, I'm sure it will be enjoyable. Sandy's nice and fun to hang out with," I replied, which was all true. Frowning, I added, "hopefully I can find a dress that makes me look pretty. I'd feel bad if Ben has to go with an ugly tom boy." I didn't mean for that to come out and I definitely didn't mean for my voice to me coated in such sincerity. Who wanted to show that much vulnerability to someone? Not me that's for sure.

He shook his head fervently. "Oh Helga, you aren't an ugly tom boy. You are very beautiful," he said, his voice soft and husky and totally melting my heart at eat word.

I looked up at him surprised. He was busy taking another bite of his calzone. He thought I was beautiful? I mean it was probably just an Arnold thing to do and say…you know, help build up someone's (my) confidence. But Arnold in all his goody-two-shoes glory didn't strike me as a liar. So the question was…did he really think I was beautiful?

There was a quiet pause while I was thinking all this and I didn't realize I had just kind of let his compliment die awkwardly. His cheeks were bright red and I could see his mind fumbling for words before he finally says, "Sandy really thinks a lot of you."

I looked up at him. I really didn't want to talk about Sandy-especially after he expressed that he thought I was beautiful-but I did want to know one thing for sure. Did he feel the same way about Sandy that she felt about him? While I suspected as much, I didn't actually know. I had only assumed by his actions and the way they acted together. But there was always that small chance he didn't return her affection, right?

One thing I did know-and this dinner with Arnold was solidifying it in my mind-was that I still loved him. While although he was a teenager now-older and with more life experience-he was definitely not the 9 year-old boy I had known. And yet, he was still Arnold. The Arnold I fell in love with and the Arnold, I knew now. The Arnold I still loved. I knew that now. At that moment-after our talking and the fact that he followed me on my horrid date to make sure I was ok, after teasing and joking and laughing together, after he called me beautiful when I felt anything but beautiful-at that moment I knew I still loved him.

So I needed to know, did he care for Sandy the way she cared for him? How hard was it going to be for me? How much work was possibly cut out for me before I could maybe, in the distant future, somehow win his heart? Because maybe deep in my soul somewhere I was a little like Arnold and had hope the way he always had hope about things. Deep down I had hope that somehow I could someday catch his attention. Someday maybe even win his heart.

(Arnold's POV)

"Well, that's nice," she said finally. "You guys are like best friends, right?"

I smiled thinking of the many years Sandy and I had been friends and all the fun we'd had together. How beautiful was, how kind, how funny and thoughtful. She definitely lit up my life. "Yep, pretty much. We've been close since I first moved here. We kind of do everything together. It's really perfect," I finished, hoping I didn't have a dopey grin on my face.

Helga cocked an eyebrow at me, putting on her usual Helga routine. "So, you asked your best friend to homecoming? What's that about, hair boy?" she coaxed, arching her eye brows at me.

I felt my eyes go wide and my cheeks start to burn. Helga was the last person on earth I wanted to talk about my feelings for Sandy with. "Uh..."

She chuckled and smirked amusedly at me. "Spit it out! You like her don't you?" she prodded finally, the amusement all to apparent in her voice.

Oh, great. If Helga Pataki knew my feelings for Sandy it was only a matter of time before Sandy found out in some embarrassing way leading to her running straight for the hills to get away from me...and away from Helga the big mouth.

"Well, I-I-" I stuttered, trying to get my brain to focus enough to somehow avoid the conversation all together.

She put her hands up to stop me. "Ok, Ok, I get it. You do like her. I won't make you actually say it, Lover Boy. Heaven forbid the words have to actually come out of your mouth." She smirked at me. "What are you going to do bout it?"

Like I was going to tell her-even if I did know what I was going to do, which I didn't. I was still trying to formulate plans in my head and decide just how I'd finally confess my feelings to Sandy. I figured Homecoming was a good place...though with Ben and Helga around all the time it might be hard. But I'd figure it out. I'd waited long enough to tell her how I felt and lately things had changed between us...definitely leading toward pathway so I knew it was now or never.

Finally I remembered Helga was waiting for an answer. "I don't really see how it's any of your business, Helga," I reprimanded.

She scoffed mockingly. "I thought we were friends. Don't friends tell each other secrets and help each other with their love lives?"

I shook my head at her a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth as I felt the fire returning. "Maybe. But I'm not sure spectacular rooftop confessions are the way to go here."

That shut her up nicely. But also shut me up. And presented us with another pleasant silence. I'm being sarcastic, of course. I had finished my calzone and all the breadsticks by this point so there really wasn't much else to use at the moment so I just kind of sat there weirdly searching my brain for something to say. So Helga finished her calzone in our awkward silence.

(Helga's POV)

When I had finished my calzone Arnold leaned back in his chair casually with a sigh. "Well, that was good." He gestured towards our empty plates.

I tried to hid the frown played at the corner of my mouth as an aching sadness filled my heart. This was it. It was over. Our nice, intimate dinner together was coming to a close and there was no excuse in the world I think to use to make it last any longer. "Yah, it was," I finally agreed. "I guess we should go now."

As if on cue the waiter brought the bill and laid it on the table. Immediately I reached my arm forward to take the check so I could pay.

But Arnold was faster and his hand grabbed the check before I could. "Dinner's on me, Helga." He smiled warmly at me as he began to pull out his wallet.

"Arnold, I-" I started to refuse.

He reached his hand out and placed it on mine. "I've got this, Helga." He gave me an irresistible smile, his gorgeous green eyes sparkling at me.

It was all I could do to hold back the lovesick sigh that threatened to escape my lips, so I only nodded in response.

After the check was paid he stood up and pulled my chair out for me. Arnold, always the gentleman. His grandparents definitely raised him well. He gestured towards the door with one hand and placed the other on the small of my back leading me toward the door. I bit my lip and concentrating on not letting the shiver wanted to run of my spine happen as I followed him towards the door.

He chuckled softly and looked down at my as we walked out the door. "At least we aren't leaving in the same fashion as Cory."

I felt my smile widen as I laughed with him. "Very true, football head."

Once outside he turned his gorgeous face to me and beamed down at me again and my heart did a somersault as I gazed up at his handsome face. "I'd offer to drive you home, but I know you drove yourself here…so maybe next time?"

My heart leapt to my throat at his words and the deep sound of his voice. I could only nod and say, "sounds good" in response.

He smiled leading me to my car and watching as I got into the drivers seat. "Good night, Helga," he said softly, his eyes twinkling in the evening light.

I whispered good night before closing my door as he watched me pull out of the parking spot and drive away.

If only I could just stay forever here in this moment. Feeling happy and in love, with the attention of my beloved completely on me and no one else. Arnold's attention and concern on only me; his concern only for me.

Let time just stop here and let me bask in this moment forever and ever. Please, let me enjoy this feeling of euphoria for as long as possible before something happens to break this beautiful, wonderful, blessed spell I'm under.