Author's note:
Hi. This is my first time posting a story in English, which is not my first language; however, I hope this is comprehensible and enjoyable enough. Let me know if there are any major mistakes, please.
This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it got too long. The second (and last) chapter will be out soon :)
Three years had passed since the confusing and failed confession on the rooftop of FTI.
They were in a different school now, with new classmates, but the structure of their group of friends hadn't changed much. Except that Gerald and Phoebe had announced their formal relationship a few months ago, and Stinky and Gloria had tried dating again without lasting long.
From Helga's perspective, Arnold was still a little goody two shoes trying to fix the world, and she still helped him on his altruistic missions on the sly. She also tried to tease him in front of the others... to a certain degree... occasionally... given that the boy's reactions to her bullying had been less passive and less restrained since the April Fool's Day dance in fourth grade, and that, unnerved Helga. There was a time when her strategy was to face the blond's attitude by acting even more malicious; however, the emotional discomfort that haunted her while his anger lasted made her pull back the heavy weaponry and reduce the brutality of their confrontations by the end of fifth grade.
Now, sitting at the back of their chemistry classroom, she had to endure the display of the boy's new crush on his project partner. A girl with blonde curls. Does he have to be cloyingly attentive and kind to her? This had been going on for at least three weeks. Yes, she's cute and delicate and all, but for how long is the little hairy shrimp going to stubbornly get infatuated with other girls when, clearly, I can show him all the passion and devotion that his life needs?
Criminy, year after year, a new girl.
Helga ran into him at the end of their lunch hour in the art supply room. She had gone to grab materials for a presentation they had to put together during biology class that afternoon; he probably had gone there for the same reasons.
"Hi, Helga," he greeted her, always small and friendly.
No. No HiHelgas. I overheard you talking to Geraldo about your chemistry partner in the cafeteria. What don't you understand? "Football Head," she said, blocking his way.
"Ahm... may I come through?" He asked coldly, as his patience with the blonde's schemes had decreased over the years.
"We need to clear some things up, bucko." She had had enough.
"What?" Arnold asked in confusion, always trying to understand. But since Helga couldn't really complain much after recanting her feelings for him in fourth grade, how could she set out their circumstances without exposing her feelings in an exhaustive verbiage? How could she control the situation without expanding on her motives?
Just like that.
Helga took control of the situation without expanding on her motives, with just a little and enigmatic reminder.
She grabbed his shirt and planted her lips firmly on his. She breathed in his scent for a few seconds, her nose pressing against his cheek. The boy's messy hair tickled her forehead.
She pulled away abruptly after a couple of seconds, looking at him earnestly. Arnold looked as befuddled as he did when they were nine, "Helga?!"
"That's all," the blonde resolved, brushing past him, composed and overpowering.
"What—what just happened?" Arnold asked behind her back, out of breath.
"Aash, Football Head," she replied, as nonchalant as she could, "the heat of the moment". And with that, the session was over.
The heat of the moment repeated itself before the end of the school year, after she noticed him staring at his chemistry partner again for far too long. But this time, Arnold seemed more annoyed than disturbed when he asked for clarification.
On the third occasion, when they were in eighth grade and he had been especially grumpy with her that week, Arnold emphazised, "You can't keep using the 'heat of the moment' as an excuse, Helga," with his hands raised up in an attempt to stop her as he saw her approaching him with determination.
"Idiot," Helga argued before pressing her lips to his, "I tripped, can't you see?"
However, Helga complied by no longer excusing herself in the heat of the moment. When a resigned Arnold asked what her reason was for kissing him intensely at Rhonda's backyard during their first booze-fueled party, Helga replied calmly, "I think I overdid it with the rum." It was pretty believable, since Rhonda and Harold, and Nadine and Lorenzo, used the same pretext to explain themselves.
"Practice for my role in the play," the blonde explained to him after a rough kiss a few months later in high school, to which Arnold responded hesitantly, "Helga, can't we— can we have a conversation?" No.
'A conversation' would be 'you can't go around kissing people, Helga,' or maybe 'Helga, if you want, we can be friends, but I don't like-like you,' or worse, 'I know you love me, Helga, and I'm going to expose your soft, cheesy secret side to the world.' No. She was safe being forceful and unpredictable.
"The thrill of victory" was the blonde's ostensible reason for kissing him when she ran into him in the park after winning a baseball game. To which Arnold countered, "Helga, I think we need to talk about this."
And when summer arrived, "Paste for brains, what are you doing on my face?" was all the boy got. By the time he yelled "Helga, come on! We need to talk about this!", she was already gone. She had two missed calls from Arnold that week.
Perhaps... the youngest Pataki thought during the holidays, if he is showing THAT much interest... maybe it won't be so bad to actually talk. Realistically, she couldn't keep handling the situation like this forever. The boy was already catching up to her height and becoming less of a weakling. Maybe it was time for her to face the situation.
Nevertheless, during the first semester of tenth grade, the 'situation' never happened again, as Helga avoided him at all costs since he began dating one of the cheerleaders.
He had been blessed with a growth spurt that gave him enough inches in height for the coach to consider him for the basketball team, and soon, his talent exceeded everyone's expectations since he already had the skills, but he also had prepared himself tirelessly the previous year to reapply after not being selected durting their first year. This brought him popularity, and so he met his cheerleader.
Helga didn't know if they had made it official, she did not feel like getting any more details. It was a Tuesday in October when she saw them together for the first time, walking in the hallway. His arm was wrapped in the arms of a short brunette girl. Phoebe confirmed that they had been seen together over the weekend, and Helga didn't feel the energy to retaliate. She rather felt like her stomach had been kicked, knocking the wind out of her and ruthlessly deflating her fantasies. Arnold was growing up, moving on with his life, jumping from one crush to the next, never seriously considering her, no matter how much the younger Pataki imposed herself on him. Had adolescence taken its toll on her mood and self-confidence? Perhaps her impulses had finally been dulled.
The next few weeks, she decided to follow Arnold's example —who, in the face of failure, kept himself busy— and focused on her classes, the baseball team, and theater.
After two months, she decided to refrain from writing poetry. She thought that, even if Arnold someday broke up with the girl, others would come. She knew. He was handsome, smiley, kind, and popular. And he would never pay attention to her. She needed to let him go and grow up, too.
She put the last notebook she'd been writing on into a box next to the pink ribbon and locket she had stopped wearing since she was eleven. She hid the box in her closet with the other ones that stored all the volumes written in her childhood.
She joined debate club. The more she occupied her time, the less she would think about other things.
It had been a little over three months since that dismal Tuesday, when Mrs. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd arrived gossiping in math class, announcing that Sheena and Eugene seemed to be spending a lot of time together, Nadine and Lorenzo had regrettably ended their relationship, and Arnold and his cheerleader had not been seen together recently. Despite the blonde's determination to bury her feelings, she couldn't help the exhilaration that exploded in her chest.
Rhonda threw a party three weeks later, with the clear purpose of introducing Nadine to the most 'respectable' boys in school. Lorenzo had not attended.
Sheena and Eugene were actually side by side all night, just like Stinky and Lila. Sid and Iggy flirted with any girl who would put up with their sass. Gerald and Phoebe were engaged in serious discussions almost all evening. And Helga spent the night playing absurd games with Harold, talking with Patty, and joking around with Brainy. She walked away from them for a few seconds to go to the bathroom and she found him inside. He was leaning against the wall in front of the sink, playing with an empty red cup. He looked at her and smiled warmly.
"Is it necessary for you to look so pathetic, Arnoldo?" Helga blurted out with restrained bitterness. Bitterness for still feeling for him what she promised herself not to feel anymore.
"Helga," Arnold answered slowly, not moving from where he stood, "How have you been? We haven't talked in a while".
"You've been clearly busy".
"Yes..." Arnold set the cup down on the sink counter, "I guess high school has consumed us all"
"That's not what I meant".
He looked at her for a few seconds as if he was thinking of something. Eventually, he just said "Sorry, do you need the bathroom?" and moved away from the wall to stand up straight, under Helga's watchful eye.
And it was all very slow.
"Sorry," Helga murmured after kissing him. It wasn't a rough, forceful kiss like the previous ones; in fact, she only managed to brush his mouth with hers for a second, before she regretted it. She had thought she could say that she was drunk again. It was an impulse after seeing him standing so serene in front of her.
Arnold did not look upset or surprised; he had even managed to rest his hand on her shoulder. Yet, the instant Helga touched his lips, it occurred to her that he could be there looking for self-isolation to actively think about his girl. Still in love, still mewling. And while that would have been a source of derision a few years ago; this time, it all seemed pathetic.
For both of them.
She had made no progress.
While he kept chasing others, she was still the little girl in pink running after him.
She felt like crying.
"Helga," Arnold called when she turned around to find another bathroom to drown the shame, the regret, the frustration, the anger and convince herself to stop. Criminy, Helga, stop it. Focus, she told herself, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Focus on what's worthwhile. She took a deep breath and tried to relax her face and fists. She looked a little pale. The whites of her eyes slightly red. The long, dark lashes were not curled anymore. You're doing better in school now that you're concentrating, Helga, ol' girl. She wet her face and combed her long blonde hair with trembling fingers. You can express so much of yourself at the theater club. In baseball and debate they celebrate your dedication and effort. There's where they see you.
They see you now.
She took another deep breath. Her lips had no lip gloss left.
Criminy, you have Pheebs and Patty... and even Brainy. Miriam is able to work again. Focus, it's all ok.
A month and a half later, after a PE class, Sid and Harold thought it would be hilarious to remove the weight holding the door in the storage room where Helga and Arnold had been assigned to store the equipment, leaving them locked in. Neither of blondes had a phone on them and Helga spent ten minutes threatening the boys through the door, listening to their laughter and taunts while they retreated to their next class.
When they stopped hearing the voices of their classmates, Helga and Arnold spent seven minutes arguing with each other. Arnold assured her that they would be fine while she attacked the door. This was followed by five minutes of silence, which Arnold interrupted by asking her about her life, pointing out that he felt he hadn't seen her in a very long time before Rhonda's party, making unsuccessful attempts to catch up with her life. Helga coldly asked him to stop being such a buttinski. She didn't want to allow him to intrude in her fragile psyche.
Finally, they both seated side by side absent-minded, with their backs leaning against the shelves filled with sports junk. The silence was interrupted by the voices of Gerald and Phoebe, who appeared on the other side of the door looking for them after finishing their classes. Not having a key for the door, the couple went to get the coach or a janitor.
"No heat of the moment today, Helga?" Arnold said quietly, as their friends walked away.
Helga looked at him surprised. He was still sitting next to her. His voice had sounded tired. "What did you say?"
"I thought that a situation like this would lead to some... heat of the moment" Arnold repeated.
Helga felt herself blush, "Were you getting ready to run, Hair Boy?" she replied, "I was giving you a break, maybe last time I was a little out of line. I had been drinking. And maybe I have better things to do, you know? You're a little self-centered, Arnoldo", she looked at her knees, demanding her face to cool down.
Arnold laughed softly, "You're always out of line, Helga".
"Yeah, well, I was also giving you space to cry about your failed romance."
She heard him sigh, "I don't know if I'd call that a 'roman—'"
"I don't care".
Arnold was silent for a few seconds, "Helga... Gerald and Phoebe will be back soon".
Still feeling hot, she dared to look at him again. His green eyes were watching her steadily. She took a deep breath and only had to lean a little; Arnold closed the remaining distance.
It was a shy and leisured kiss. And mutual.