Warning: Heads up! This chapter contains mentions of purging. It also includes depictions and references to anorexia. You've been warned.

It's crazy (that someone could change me)

Eating at the Sunset Arms was always a surprise. Even though she never knew what to expect- Helga felt comfortable. She liked it when all the boarders and grandparents were eating together but she also liked it when it was just Arnold and his parents.

She almost kicked herself when she saw the disappointment in Arnold's eyes when she said she wouldn't be staying for dinner. She sighed to herself. "Fine Football head. I'll stay for dinner. Happy?" She leaned back on the bed, "Besides, if my stomach explodes and I die, then I know who to blame."

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Helga. You just took an antiacid and you're doing okay."

The girl scowled. "Why are you so bent on me eating at your place?"

"So that I know you'll eat. Besides my parents missed having you around since you know that thing started. They really like you."

"There is no thing, football head. And your parents - they're not so bad. I kinda like that stew thing your mom made the last time."

"Well, I'm sure she wouldn't mind making it for you or giving you the recipe if you stayed."

"Like I'm really going to say 'No' to your mom, football head. You sure know how to weasel your way into things."

"So you're staying?" Arnold said in a happy tone.

"Yes, hairboy. I might as well, so I don't break your poor mother's heart."

"Hey, my dad too. He thinks you're great."

"Yeah well, who can blame him?" Helga ran a hand through her hair. "Way to go and pull my hair down, football head. Now I have to put it back up or its going to knot."

Arnold stared wistfully at her hair as if he was heartbroken at it being put up. "Or you could leave it down. It's so pretty."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Of course, you'd say that." She sat up and claimed over the boy to walk to his mirror. Carefully without her brush, she put up one pigtail and then did the other.

"It's still beautiful either way because it's you."

Helga blushed. "Okay, charmer. You can lay off now." She crossed her arms sitting on the boy's bed again. "Now, you stay there and I'll sit here. And keep your lips away from me bucko." She smoothed her dress down.

Arnold smiled. "Whatever you say, Helga." He laid back on the bed with his hands under his head. "You know if you want to lay down too, I don't think my parents would mind."

"Who said anything about your parents? I need to be able to control myself."

Arnold rolled over to his side, hand under his chin. "You can't control yourself around me?"

"Yes, I can." Helga humphed. "Besides I make out with you a couple of times and suddenly you're like some little love God. Please."

Arnold smirked, "Did you just call me a love God?"

Helga blushed again and looked away, arms still crossed over her chest. "Oh please. Don't flatter yourself. I said you were acting like one."

Arnold decided not to correct her. "Well if I'm a love God, I think that'd make you a love goddess." For good measure, he winked at her and laughed as she blushed more.

"Yeah, laugh it up, Arnoldo." Helga crossed her arms. "Just make sure you stay on that side of the bed."

Helga sat down across from Arnold at the dinner table with Miles and Stella Shortman. She learned that Arnold's grandparents and the rest of the boarders went out to dinner so it would just be the four of them.

"So Helga, what's been going on in your life?"

Helga looked up from her plate and shrugged, "Can't say anything fun but I've been okay."

Stella smiled at her, "Just okay?"

Helga nodded. "Olga's back in town so things are a little hectic around the house." She chose her words carefully.

"Ah, she's in school in Alaska, right? To get her master's in education."

"Yep, all the way in Alaska. Thankfully."

Arnold said, "She's really nice. She comes to town every time there's a break. She was our student teacher in the fourth grade."

"Wow, she must really like education."

Helga rolled her eyes, "Enough for the both of us." She took a bite of the chicken, chewing slowly. She knew she wasn't that great of a guest. Not after all of this started.

"Besides, hanging out with Arnold, did you have any other plans for the weekend?"

Helga thought on that for a few seconds, she commented, "Knowing Olga, there's probably going to be some impromptu event, but I'm hoping not. Sometimes it's nice to have time to yourself."

"And having time to rest. That's a mature way of looking at things, Helga."

"Arnold told us you weren't feeling well the other day."

'Criminy them too? It must run in their DNA.' "Yeah, I'm feeling better. My stomach was giving me some trouble. I found out I had acid reflex yesterday." Helga looked down self-consciously unsure of what else to say about her "well-being". For the first time in a long time, Arnold realized just how sensitive his girlfriend was. He could tell she felt uncomfortable when people expressed concern for her because she wasn't used to it.

"Oh, Helga I'm sorry to hear that. I had it when I was younger. It helped to stay away from bananas, oranges, and berries. Really anything with a lot of acidity in it," Miles said in between bites of food.

"Joy." And it was honestly all Helga could think to say.

Miles laughed, "Oh it's not so bad. After a while things looked up. Antiacids are your friend."

Helga smiled, "Don't I know it." She sat her fork down and looked at the pair. "That was really good. Thank you for the meal Mr. and Mrs. Shortman." She really couldn't eat another bite. Her plate was still a quarter full but she had eaten more than she had at her place in the last week. She was again thankful to be out from under Olga's gaze so as not to badger her over what she ate. Arnold seemed to be happy with what she ate as she caught him smiling at her.

"Oh, there's dessert, too! Arnold, why don't you help me grab it?" Miles smiled at his son. He went around the table picking up the four plates.

Helga watched in hopelessness as Arnold and Miles went to grab the dessert. She already felt like she couldn't eat another bite much less dessert.

"Are you sure everything is okay, honey?" Stella looked over at Helga.

"Yeah, everything is fine. I'm fine." Helga shrugged. "Don't you believe me?"

Stella wrapped a gentle hand around the girl's shoulders, "Of course I do. Arnold's been a bit worried about you, dear. And I can't help but worry too." She smiled sadly, "I'm just glad you're feeling better after feeling so terrible for the past few weeks."She squeezed the girl's shoulder comfortingly.

Helga leaned into the touch. "Thank you, Mrs. Shortman but I'm okay. Arnold's just a worrywart."

"I know. He gets it from me. He's always trying to help others, no matter what."

Helga looked at the woman, "He's Arnold; helping people is who he is."

"Right." She smiled at the girl. "It is who he is and we love him for it."

"Okay, here's dessert! Chocolate mouse cake." Miles proclaimed re-entering the dining room.

"Wow," Helga said as she looked at the dessert and then at the happy faces on the Shortmans. They didn't expect her to eat this, did they? How could she possibly find the room? She was starting to feel heavy. And when she felt heavy..she needed to feel light again. Being light was ideal, was what she should be.

"This looks amazing, I-I don't know if I can eat it. With the acid reflux...I'm scared my stomach will start burning again." Helga said. She fought every bone in her body to not dive into the cake.

She looked down, almost scared to see the disappointment she knew that was in their eyes. Miles smiled. "That's okay," He put his hand on his chin, "Hm, I think we still have ice cream. Do you want to try that?"

Helga almost declined but saw Arnold's gaze and nodded her head, "It couldn't hurt to try."

She wished she was worthy enough to eat it.

Helga swooned as Arnold leaned over one more time and kissed her deeply. "Have a good night Helga."

Helga kissed the boy again, ignoring the fact she was on the porch of her house with a potential audience only a few steps behind the front door. She pouted as the boy broke the kiss. Arnold smiled and kissed her one last time.

She placed one hand on the boy's face caressing it for a few seconds before she dropped her hand. "Text me when you get back?" She asked the boy.

"Of course, Helga."

"Later football head." She smiled genuinely at the boy. She loved him so much she could feel her whole face turn red as she watched him smile at her with half-lidded eyes. 'Those eyes.', she thought to herself.

"I'll see you later, Helga." The boy smiled again before turning around and making his way down the stairs to start his journey back home.

Helga sighed lovesick as she leaned against the front door watching the boy walk away, his corn-floured hair tussling in the wind. She would have a ton of material to write now. She opened the front door and was met with Olga's sing-song voice.

"Hi, Baby Sister! How was your day?" Helga shook her head, wiping that silly lovesick off her face before she replied to Olga.

" Fine, Olga." The ornery girl stomped up the stairs. the last thing she needed was nosey Olga butting into her daydream of Arnold.

She could see it now.

Arnold racing back to her house for more kisses.

Arnold coming back with a bouquet.

Arnold coming back with a guitar in hand confessing how much he loved her and how he couldn't spend another minute away from her. She sighed to herself as she laid on her bed.

It wouldn't for another 20 minutes she received a text from Arnold. She laughed at her phone screen.
'I'm home now. - your love God'

What a way to end the day.

The weekend was passing in a blur and Helga felt like she couldn't keep up. It was Sunday afternoon and she was already overstaying at home. She laid on her bed thinking back to Friday morning.

She should reach out to Phoebe. She should make things right as Arnold put it.
After all, it was her behavior that got her detention. It was her who yelled at Phoebe for asking if she was okay. And it was she who shouted at the girl that morning reducing her to tears.

She was also the person who told Phoebe she didn't want her help (which she doesn't). And that she needed to leave her alone.

Over and over again.

Her only friend from pre-school who stuck by her through everything-she treated her like crap. ' Your only friend, gone because of you'

Phoebe was right. She always was. 'Something you'll never be. And smart.'

Helga leaned over and grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand. She scrolled through her contact list and found the number she was looking for.

She called the number, rubbing her hand with her face. "Hello?"
Helga quickly hung up. She couldn't talk to Phoebe just yet. No, everything still felt so fresh and raw.

She knew she was in the wrong but was she ready to actually admit it? She sighed throwing her phone on the bed. She wasn't ready.

She heard a knock on her door and looked up. It was probably Olga with another snack.

"Helga, baby sister, I have your snack."

Helga sighed, "I'm not hungry Olga. Can you just leave it downstairs and I'll get it when I'm ready?"

She got up from her bed and walked to her closet. She looked over at her Arnold shrine and cried, falling to her knees.

Why was she so bad at relationships with others? Was she always meant to be a bully with no patience and sensitivity? Why was she always ignoring everyone else's feelings in favor of her own?

She felt the familiar pull of self-loathing and let herself swim into it.

Helga caved in on herself, sobbing. Why couldn't she be more like Phoebe or Lila? Or any other girl at P.S. 118? She covered her eyes with her hands and continued to cry thinking back to last night's dinner. Why had she let the Shortmans in her life? To see such a happy family together and cheerfully eating together made her heartache.

Maybe it truly was her.

The Pataki's had another one of Olga's amazing home-cooked meals without her at dinner last night. Miriam wasn't in a puddle of her own drool, drunk and Bob wasn't grouchily eating his restaurant-brought double rack of lamb in front of the tv.

All because of Olga. She knew if Olga wasn't here it'd be a flurry of nights spent brushing her hair for bed as she heard Bob yell at Miriam and Miriam slur. She was always so tired when Olga was gone.

Despite the many conversations with Arnold about it, it was hard for her to believe that her family genuinely loved and cared for her.

She wished she was light enough to float away.

She missed Arnold.