A/N So, I wasn't happy with my first attempt at doing this episode so I decided to try again. Hopefully it's better than the previous one! Read and review!


February fourteenth. Valentine's Day. It's just another normal, boring school day that I spend staring at the back of Helga's head.

Oh, how I wish I could spend even just one Valentine's Day with her. A romantic restaurant, a candlelit dinner, a moonlit stroll through the park. Even, dare I say it, a sweet kiss to finish off a perfect evening.

I would confess everything to her - the countless journal entries filled with romantic fantasies; the numerous pictures of her in my closet that I spend hours looking at; the fact that I can't keep my eyes off of her whenever she's nearby.

I would tell her that I love everything about her, from her beauty and her smarts to her sweet personality and endless kindness. She would say that she loves me, too, that she has for a while now, but was simply too shy to tell me. Then, we'd become a couple, date throughout middle and high school, get married, and...

"Arnold... Arnold... are you paying attention, Arnold?" Ms. Slovak's voice interrupts my daydreaming.

"Oh, sorry, Ms. Slovak," I say quickly, making sure to focus on the lesson.

"Now, as I was saying, it's time to make our Valentines. You can give them to whoever you choose - family, close friends, perhaps even a special someone that you care very deeply for."

I look over at Helga, sighing like the lovesick fool that I am. I consider making her a Valentine, but there's no way I'd ever give it to her, for I'm far too shy to speak to her, let alone take her on a date. Instead, I spend the period doodling in my notebook and stealing glances at Helga, who's making a Valentine's of her own. I wonder who it's for.

She holds it up to show Phoebe. "What do you think of this, Pheebs? Do you think Ricky will like it?"

I have to stop myself from actually growling out loud. Of course it's for that stupid Ricky Sanders. That stupid, thirteen year old sixth-grader with his stupid good looks who has Helga pining for him like a lovesick puppy, even though he got held back a year.

"I'm sure he'll love it, Helga," says Phoebe as the two burst into barely suppressed giggles. Then, she holds up her own Valentine's, showing it to Helga. "Do you think Gerald will like this?"

"Of course he will, Pheebs. That boy's crazy about you."

Helga's right - even a blind person could see how Gerald and Phoebe feel about each other. If only Helga felt that way about me instead of stupid Ricky.

Eventually, there's just three minutes left until lunchtime, and Ms. Slovak begins handing out our letters from our pen pals. Mine is simple, blunt, and to the point - please send money.

I look up just as the bell rings.

"Twelve o'clock already? You can have yours after lunch, Helga," says Ms. Slovak, putting Helga's letter back into the bag as she dismisses the class.

The classroom empties quickly, and I head towards the playground, sitting at one of the benches with Gerald and the rest of the gang. From my spot, I notice the massive pile of Valentines that stupid Ricky has gotten from numerous girls at our school. What do they all see in him anyway?

I try to pay attention as Gerald recites yet another urban legend to the gang, but I'm actually watching Helga as she secretly drops her own Valentine onto Ricky's already gigantic pile.

That does it. There is no way my Helga is spending her Valentine's Day with that stupid Ricky.

An idea comes to mind as I remember our letters from our pen pals. Maybe I could pretend to be her pen pal, and tell her that I want us to meet in person for the first time.

I slip away from the group discreetly and rush into the classroom. Luckily, Ms. Slovak is nowhere in sight, so I retrieve Helga's letter from her pen pal Cory from the bag, and sit down to read it at my desk. It's a pretty standard letter filled with all the usual junk that pen pals write to each other about, nothing like mine constantly asking for money.

I think carefully about what I should write. I don't want to be too obvious or too forward, so I decide that it's probably best to keep it vague: Helga. I feel it's time for us to finally meet so I'm flying in to see you tonight for one night only. Please meet me at Chez Paris, tonight at six o'clock. Yours truly, Cory.

I sure hope this works.


For the rest of the day, my mind is spinning in circles with anxiety about the letter. What if Helga doesn't come? Or what if she does come and recognizes me? I do have a pretty distinctively shaped head after all. Maybe I can say I'm a distant cousin or something like that.

I make sure to dress smartly, putting on my best suit and bow tie. Naturally, my little hat stays, for it's never left my head since I was a baby, nor will it anytime soon.

By the time five forty-five has finally rolled around, I'm seated at the water fountain, nervously waiting to see whether or not Helga will actually show up. Strangely, I see Ricky Sanders sitting alone at a table at the restaurant opposite Chez Paris. I wonder what he's doing here.

Fifteen minutes pass by until I finally see Helga approaching me.

She looks even more amazing than she does every day. Her dress is in the same shade of pink as her bow, and stops just above her knees, with little puffy shoulder sleeves and a simple neckline. It sits loosely on her figure, causing it to swish slightly as she walks towards me. I stare at her as she approaches, completely breathless and totally awestruck. She's so beautiful.

"Arnold? What are you doing here?" asks Helga, clearly surprised to see me. "I'm supposed to be meeting my pen pal Cory."

Time to stop staring and put my plan into action. "Oh, I am Cory. You probably just confused me with my cousin Arnold."

She holds up a picture of someone who must be the real Cory. "You two don't really look that similar."

"Oh, well we're very distant cousins," I say, laughing nervously. I take her hand and lead her towards the entrance. "Come on, let's go inside."

"Huh, I didn't know Arnold had a cousin in California," she says absentmindedly as we enter the restaurant. I make sure to hold the door open for her and pull out her seat for her at the table. Grandpa always taught me to be a gentleman.

"Thank you, Cory," says Helga, smiling warmly at me. Man, I love that smile, especially when it's directed at me.

The waiter brings water for the table and gives us menus, which are written entirely in French without even a trace of English. Perfect.

"You know, I almost feel like I know you from somewhere," says Helga, looking at me curiously from over her menu.

"What do you mean? We only just met," I say quickly, as I begin to panic slightly.

"I meant from your letters."

I let out a small sigh of relief as I realize that she hasn't caught on just yet. "Oh, right, of course."

The waiter returns, taking our order. Clearly not knowing French just like me, Helga plays it safe and orders a hamburger, much to the waiter's disdain.

"And for the gentleman?" he asks me.

I quickly scan over the menu, not having even the faintest idea what anything on it actually is, so I select something at random. "I'll go with the foie gras."

The waiter looks at me approvingly, giving me a small smile as he removes our menus. "Excellent choice, Monsieur."

Just then, Helga glances up and through the window, as if noticing something outside. "Would you excuse me for a moment, Cory? I just need to go to the bathroom."

She rushes off, and I try to think of something to say when she returns. So far, the night is going well - should I tell her how I feel about her? I ponder it for a few minutes, but eventually I decide against it, for it's only been twenty minutes, and I'm not sure if I actually have the guts to confess my feelings to her.

Helga reappears about five minutes later, smiling sheepishly at me. "Sorry about that. The line for the bathroom was really long."

I'm a little curious as to why she was gone so long, but I'm enjoying being with her so much that it's easy enough to ignore and move on.

"So, Helga, is there anyone you particularly like in your class?" I ask.

"You mean like a boy?" asks Helga in return.

"Yeah, you know, perhaps a funny, smart, handsome boy? Someone who kind of stands out," I continue, desperate to know whether or not she notices me at all.

She giggles a little as she pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, there is this one boy. It's actually your cousin Arnold."

So she does know I exist.

"Really? What in particular do you notice about him?" I know it's quite forward, but the fruit is dangling from the tree, and it's far too tempting not to take it.

"Nothing in particular. He just seems really shy, and honestly, a little weird sometimes."

I glance down at my lap briefly as I try to hide my disappointment. That's definitely not what I was hoping to hear.

"But, I'm sure he's probably really cool once he gets comfortable around you," she finishes.

I perk up a little at her statement just as our food arrives. I take a bite, and to my surprise, it actually tastes really good.

"I am glad to see you are enjoying your meal, Monsieur. Not many of our younger patrons enjoy the goose liver," the waiter comments absentmindedly as he refills our water glasses.

"Goose liver?" I say, as my stomach begins to disagree with my food. I cover my mouth with my hand as I hurriedly stand up, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to throw up. "Excuse me!"

I spend a good five minutes puking up whatever weird French food I must have ordered. That's one cuisine I'll most certainly be avoiding from now on.

When I get back to the table, Helga is nowhere in sight. Did she leave? Maybe the night isn't going as well as I thought it was.

I wait for a few minutes, but when she doesn't return, I decide it's time to leave, officially declaring the night a huge failure. Just as I'm standing up from my seat, Helga rushes through the door.

"Sorry, I had something to take care of," she says with an apologetic smile.

"I thought you'd left."

"No, of course not."

There's a brief pause where neither of us speak, unsure of what to say. It's then that I notice Helga looking slightly downcast.

"Is everything okay, Helga? You seem upset."

"I'm fine, really. It's just..." says Helga, trailing off as she looks away from me. "Have you ever thought you knew someone, only to find out they're someone different once you get up close?"

"What do you mean, Helga?"

"Well, it's just, there was this boy I thought I liked, but I'd never actually spoken to him. Then, when I finally did get a chance to speak to him, he turned out to be really shallow and self-centered. Sure he was pretty to look at, but he wasn't at all who I thought he was."

"Well, maybe you're looking for the right boy in the wrong place. Maybe he's somewhere you never thought to look," I say. "After all, the plainest bloom can contain the most beautiful rose."

Helga smiles warmly at me. "That was very poetic of you, Cory."

I smile back, pleasantly surprised at how well the night is going. Everything feels natural and easy, like this is exactly where I'm supposed to be, just enjoying a beautiful evening with a beautiful girl. I take a deep breath, getting ready to do something I never thought I'd ever have the courage to do.

"Helga, I have to tell you something. I was so nervous about coming here tonight because there's something that I've been wanting to say for a long time now," I begin, glancing down briefly before looking back up and directly at Helga. "I really like you a lot, and I just really need to know - do you feel the same way?"

I place my hand in the middle of the table, a silent offer for Helga to take mine in her own. I watch as she looks down at my hand and then back up at me, seemingly hesitating about something.

Helga stands from her seat, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as she does. "There's something that I need to do quickly. Wait here for me?"

I nod, watching as she leaves the restaurant. I sigh happily, doing my best to commit every moment of the night to memory, for it truly has been a night to remember.

When five minutes has passed and Helga still hasn't returned, I find myself growing restless. I turn around in my seat to see if I can spot her outside. To my shock and disappointment, I do see her, only she's talking to stupid Ricky Sanders of all people. Is that why she kept leaving all night? Was she on another date without me knowing?

I rush outside, feeling hurt, confused and betrayed all at the same time.

"Helga, what's going on here?" I ask, watching as Ricky leaves with some random waitress. "Are you on two dates at once or something?"

"Cory, it's not what you think," says Helga, waving her hands around frantically. "You see, I'd already set this other date up, but then you invited me to dinner and I was so looking forward to meeting you that I tried to do both but it obviously didn't go too well."

"No kidding," I say quietly, dropping my bow tie down to the ground. "I guess I'll be going now. Goodbye, Helga."

I turn around, but only manage a few steps before Helga grabs my hand firmly, spinning me around to face her.

"Cory, wait," she says.

She's about to say more when suddenly a random boy appears out of nowhere. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Helga," he says.

"Who are you?" asks Helga, clearly not knowing who this person is.

"I'm Cory- surprise!" he says, excitedly. "I flew in from California to finally meet you in person. I've been wandering around for hours looking for you."

"What are you talking about? That's Cory right over there," says Helga, pointing at me.

"No, I'm Cory," he argues. "And I don't know who this is, but clearly he's pretending to be me."

I begin to panic, struggling to find an explanation for this crazy situation. I can't exactly tell Helga that I pretended to be her pen pal just to spend Valentine's Day with her because I'm madly in love with her, now can I?

"Well, you see... the thing is," I stutter.

Just then, Phoebe steps in and approaches Cory. Where did she come from?

"Hi, I'm Helga," she says.

"You're Helga?" asks Cory, just as confused as both myself and Helga.

Phoebe offers her arm out to him. "That's right. Would you like to get some ice cream?"

"Sounds great," he replies, linking their arms together.

Well that was lucky. There's an awkward pause as I try to think of what to say next.

"Talk about a crazy night, huh?" I look at the pavement, shuffling my feet nervously.

"Yeah, definitely," agrees Helga. At the same time as me, she reaches down to pick up my discarded bow tie. "There's just one thing I need to know - who are you?"

We both stand up straight again and then she looks at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, and for a brief moment, I seriously consider telling her the truth. But, deep down, I know I'm too scared to do that, so I decide not to, for I don't want to risk our already barely existent relationship by confessing my feelings to her.

"I can't tell you," I say quietly, looking at the cobblestone pavement instead of at Helga.

"Why not?"

"I'm just not ready to, okay?" I yell, turning away from her.

"Okay, I guess," says Helga, her voice just as kind and understanding as always. She places a hand on my shoulder, looking at me with hope in her eyes. "If we meet again, will you tell me who you are?"

"Maybe," I answer, keeping it simple since I don't want to give anything else away.

"You know, as crazy as tonight was, I can honestly say that this has been the best Valentine's Day I've ever had," says Helga, smiling at me sweetly.

"Me too, but I have to go now," I say, reluctantly.

"Well, we'll always have Chez Paris." Helga leans in and kisses me softly on the cheek, causing me to blush as red as my bow tie.

"Goodbye, Helga." I watch her walk away with my bow tie in hand until she turns the corner and out of sight. I begin to make my own way home, thinking about the craziest, yet most wonderful Valentine's Day of my young life.

"She likes me, she really likes me," I say to myself, overwhelmed with happiness and giddiness, until I realize something. "Wait a minute, she doesn't like me - she likes Cory. Well, not the real Cory, me Cory, so she does like me." I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "Oh, man, I'm a basket case!"