Author's Note: I do not own these characters. But I do love them.

20.

Each for their own reasons, Phoebe, Helga, Gerald, and Arnold all spent the night alone in their rooms. No one reached out any further. No one cared to share their feelings, excitement, questions, or fears in the moment. Instead, they spent the evening in their own head, only vaguely aware that the world extended outside their own door. Blind to the world, except for the far off bedroom of one other person, perhaps - but they did their best to contain that awareness, each for their own reasons.

Sleep was restless, dreams were vivid.

21.

Tuesday had a wobbly start. Phoebe was late meeting Helga - but Helga didn't notice as she recounted every moment of the evening before. Phoebe only heard every other word Helga said. She felt emotionally swollen, only able to absorb so much because her heart was still clinging to the look on Gerald's face and the fight to keep her parents from intervening. Phoebe hid away for the rest of the night, trying to work out how to make it make sense, but she had so royally bungled the first go at it that her confidence in her emotional intelligence was shaken.

"And he actually offered to teach me to drive stick!" Helga was gushing. "Like actually, actually! I feel crazy, Pheebs." She looked down to see her best friend, not beaming and excited, but blankly staring into middle-distance. Phoebe was in some kind of holding pattern.

"Hey! Pheebs! Phoebe!" Helga gave her round cheek a forceful poke. That did it.

"What? Oh, yes - it's really exciting, Helga."

"Ok… What's going on with you today?" Now that she looked at her best friend properly, Helga could see that something was very wrong.

"Nothing." Phoebe could feel tears welling up so she walked a little faster. The school was in sight now.

"Bullshit!" Helga widened her step and easily overtook Phoebe. "What is going on? Are you still sick?"

Phoebe tried to weave around her, but she was no match.

"No - I'm fine. Seriously!" She squeaked.

"Ok - is this about Gerald? Did something happen?" Helga's voice was stern and demanding. "Cuz I can go beat up on him if you need me too. No problem."

"Helga, Stop!" Phoebe was now standing at her full height and staring right back at Helga. This had the effect she wanted - Helga stopped cold. In the silence Phoebe stormed up the stairs, leaving Helga behind.

"What the hell, Phoebe!" But she didn't chase after her. Helga just watched her best friend run away.

Helga didn't see Phoebe again until lunch that day.

Helga sat at their usual A Day table, pathetic school pizza on her tray. Arnold sat down across from her and said, "How's your day going, Helga?"

Looking at her now, Arnold realized he'd been waiting to see her all day - since last night. Maybe I should just do it. It could be fun…

"Eh, you know - stupid." Arnold was wearing a black t-shirt and she found herself studying the edge of his right sleeve against his bicep. A stray blonde hair had fallen onto his shoulder. While Arnold chattered about his history class that morning, Helga reached out and plucked the strand free. A younger voice in her head desperately told her to keep it, but she fought the impulse and let it drop to the ground.

Arnold hadn't really seen anyone yet that day. Gerald said he was getting to school on his own and didn't need a ride and his morning classes were with randos - so he hadn't talked to anyone all morning. Now he found himself speaking so freely and laughing easily with Helga again. It feels familiar he thought in an on going argument with himself. She's still Helga. She's unpredictable and intense… and smart… and funny. He shook his head out of his thoughts to find Helga also in a kind of daze, plucking a stray something off his shirt.

Phoebe, with her bento box in hand, came up on Helga's left. "Hey, I think I'm gonna go eat in the library today - ok?" She said shakily. Helga looked up at her, concerned, in time to see Phoebe's eyes shoot up over Helga's head. Turning around, Helga found the reason.

"Hey," Phoebe said. But before Gerald could reply, Helga stepped in.

"What the hell did you do, Geraldo?" Helga couldn't help herself - she stood up to be eye to eye with her best friend's boyfriend. Yes - she knew how much he loved Phoebe and she was acutely aware of how much Phoebe loved him (in fact they were disgusting to third wheel with), but that did not negate the fact the Phoebe was now all fucked up and it seemed to have everything to do with HIM!

"What are you talking about?" Arnold asked.

"Helga, stop!" Phoebe chirped.

"Back off, Pataki." Gerald was taking a step back.

"Helga, come on." Arnold tried, reaching out and touching her arm.

"Seriously! It's fine." Phoebe pulled Helga back with a hard tug on her shirt and she finally relented, letting Phoebe step in front of her.

"Hey," she said again, calm and measured.

"Hey," Gerald looked sad now, focused only on Phoebe.

"Do you want to eat in the library with me today? And talk?" She had planned this out, she knew what she was going to say, she knew how she was going to explain.

"Of course. Let's go." He picked up his tray, walked around the table and took Phoebe's hand.

Arnold and Helga were left behind to watch them, not another word in their direction.

Arnold looked from the couple to Helga. "You couldn't have gone a little easier?"

"I'm not the one - " Helga started loudly, towering over him, but Arnold cut her off.

"Hey - don't yell at me! I just want to know what's going on with our friends." Arnold was stern but calm. Understanding. He forced Helga back a little, she took a breath and sat down.

"Ok, sorry." She didn't look sorry but Arnold took what he could get. She was talking at a normal level now. "I don't know what's going on, honestly. Phoebe ran from me when we got to school this morning too."

"They are usually so good at talking things out. They have that whole don't go to sleep angry rule… Gerald didn't say a word either."

"Glad I'm not the only one confused." Helga popped another fry into her mouth.

"I'm sure they'll fill us in -" Arnold said, hopefully.

"Or," she said, eyebrow raised. "We follow behind and listen."

"We can't do that."

"Sure we can, and if we don't there is no way we will get the whole story!" Helga picked up her pizza off the tray, dumped the rest in a nearby trash can. "You comin?" She was already speeding off.

Arnold knew he shouldn't, but also knew he wanted to. He took an over large bite of his sandwich, grabbed his bag and raced to catch up.

22.

They were both nervous, walking to the library in silence. Gerald stared openly at Phoebe, waiting for something to make sense, while Phoebe kept her head down. She would start when they sat down at their spot in the back of the library, like she had planned.

Same as they day before, Gerald opened the door and let her walk in before him. Same as the day before, the librarian greeted them with warm familiarity - though she got no reply. And same as the day before, they found their way back to the reliable table, under their favorite window with just enough light, facing out the shady side of the school.

But today was different than all the other days - or at least, that is what they both were afraid of.

Gerald waited patiently as Phoebe unboxed her lunch. Not too slow and not too quick. Measured. Finally, when her lunch was laid out, Phoebe looked up and said, "I am really sorry about yesterday. I love you and I don't wish to hurt you or scare you."

"You are still scaring me, babe," Gerald said.

"I know, I know I am." But Phoebe didn't change her approach.

"Helga, you're stepping on my heels!" Arnold whispered sharply. The two were creeping down an aisle toward the back of the library.

"Geez, you just creep so slow!" Helga piped back. Truth is that Helga tripped while leaning a little too forward because she was smelling Arnold's hair.

"Helga?" He was frozen, "Are you sniffing me?"

Helga's knees turned to jelly at getting caught. "What? Of course, not football head. You weirdo." Not quietly at all.

Arnold whipped around and grabbed Helga roughly, one hand over her mouth, the other one grasping the back of her head. "You're the one who wanted to eavesdrop!" His whisper was low and rough, but he had the smallest smile on his face. Helga's eyes were wide, their noses almost touching.

Helga reluctantly (like really reluctantly) came back to herself, rolled her eyes and scraped Arnold off of her, pushing past him. Leading the charge now, Arnold behind her, Helga touched her lips that had just been pressed against his hand. Don't sigh. Don't sigh. Don't sigh! She willed, her eyes and stomach fluttering.

Helga stopped abruptly at the end of the row, Arnold bouncing off her a little. There they were, at their table about 20 feet away. "Shh shhh shh," Helga was batting at Arnold, who was trying to catch his balance. She squatted down and tuned in - only slightly distracted by Arnold's hand on her back as he leaned forward over her.

"I've been thinking about this a lot. So please take a moment to consider what I am saying before you respond." She could see he was tense - not ready to fight, but fearful that he might have to.

"OK - I will." he said. Of course, he would! Why is she acting like I'm irrational? He didn't want to put up a wall or cross his arms, but his hands were twitching a little.

"Ok…" she said, a long breath. "I don't think Quinceton is the best place for you." There she said it. I just need to get this out - he'll understand, maybe even be relieved.

"Yeah - you said that yesterday." He said dryly.

"I know - but - but I didn't explain," she stumbled a little. Remember the plan. Remember the words. Woah my heart is racing.

"I'm all ears." He could see Phoebe trembling ever so slightly. She would get like this while waiting for her grades to come out or an acceptance letter, but he could always distract her, make her laugh, ease her nerves. He didn't think he could laugh at that moment.

"Y-you are only planning on Quinceton be - because of me. I don't think you are considering your future. And I just want what's best for you…" she said. But -

"There are a lot of reasons I want to go to Quinceton," he said, more defensive than he meant to be.

"You said you'd listen." She noticed him lift in the chest and set his jaw. She thought it was obstinance, but it was something else - a fear that she was right.

"I've made my mind up about this." He tried to be firm, solid. "I want to go. Trust me -"

"Of course, I trust you - "

"Then what are you saying? Because I want to be at Quinceton."

"You're only trying to get into Quinceton because of me!" Her thoughts were running wild. She really should have written notes.

"So?" He was breathless and at a loss. Why did it matter! He could get in, he knew he could! Phoebe was getting frustrated.

She was losing her composure a little, a hand on her face. "Oh my god you are being purposely obtuse."

"Don't do that." He snapped - it was reflexive.

"What?" She squeaked.

"Don't call me obtuse." If she wasn't so hot in the face she might have noticed a flash in his eyes. And from the outside it might have been very clear that Gerald was afraid she really thought he was too obtuse to join her.

"I said you were choosing to be obtuse. You know what I'm saying!"

"No I don't, because it's not logical, baby!" Gerald was doing his best to wrangle his words and his buzzing mind. "You are saying you don't need me at Quinceton, but that is not true."

"You think I need you to go with me?" Phoebe asked sharply.

"Yeah - I do," Gerald said, sitting back a little, trying to communicate that he understands her, all of her.

"Don't look at me like I'm about to explode." She couldn't stand it when he did that, when she could see his caution on his face.

"I'm not - I'm looking at you with concern." He said, leaning forward and reaching for her hand. "I'm concerned. I am so worried all the time. About you." She pulled away from his touch.

"That's not fair. I've been doing so much better. And I am not asking you to -" Phoebe's voice was high and thick in her throat.

"Not asking me? I'm the ONLY one you talk to about your stress, your anxiety." He was counting out on his fingers. "I'm the only one you ask for help with anything. And obviously, you're not doing better - you've been carrying this heavy shit around!"

"Gerald, just listen to my reasons!" Panic was rising, this wasn't going as planned. They weren't connecting, communicating. She couldn't see a way back.

"Ok - go ahead. Reason it out for me!" The temperature was rising.

"You've been so focused on me. You don't know what you want - I - I mean - "

"Stop talking to me like I'm dumb!" It just burst out of him.

"You are being ridiculous," She said. That is not how to get control back, she thought angrily at herself.

"I know your reasoning, Phoebe." He said, feeling hurt wriggle in his chest. "I'm not being ridiculous, I'm being your partner. You think you don't need me, but you can't get through an exam season without me running behind you, picking up the pieces. Making sure you eat, making sure you sleep, making you laugh, getting you to relax long enough so you don't break down or burn out."

"You really don't think I can do this," she said, withdrawing.

"No - I think you can do anything! And we can do anything together! Just let me be there for you!" Gerald said, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Oh my god, you think I'm pathetic!" Tears had started to well up in her eyes. Whether that was out of frustration or hurt, Phoebe wasn't sure.

"No I don't! I'm your biggest fan. I'm team Phoebe! We are a team!" He insisted.

"What about you?" she squeaked back - her voice was choked but it was loud and sharp.

"What about me, what?" Gerald threw his hands on the table, palms up, trying to stay open.

"What do you want for you, Gerald! What are you going to do at Quinceton when you aren't 'picking up my pieces!?'" She spat. "God, you are so wrapped up in me!"

Gerald sat back now, and quietly said, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is a bad thing!" Her volume was rising and could be heard across the library.

"What the fuck do you mean!" he growled. "We are a team!"

"I know!" Phoebe pressed down hard on the table top and stood up. "I know we are and I have loved our team, but - "

"But?!" Gerald stood now too, but hunched over, trying to make Phoebe meet his eye. "Phoebe… Phoebe, look at me."

She did. She stared back - but something was closed to him. He knew that.

He finally said, "Do you not want to be a team anymore?"

"I want you to live your own life."

A CRASH of bodies and books erupted from three aisles down, behind Phoebe.

As Gerald and Phoebe argued, Helga and Arnold could barely breathe. They felt helpless watching their friends as if from a long way off.

"What are they talking about? What's wrong with Phoebe?" Helga whispers roughly. Arnold knew only what Gerald had told him, but it was clear he knew more than Helga.

"I think I know… I'll explain later." His breath was hot on her ear.

Helga was squatting on her toes, stabilizing herself by gripping a low shelf. Arnold was slowly shifting all of his weight onto Helga's back as they sunk deeper and deeper into the conversation.

They aren't listening to each other, Arnold thought. He could hear it in their voices, see it in their bodies. This wasn't going well and his heart broke for them.

Helga hadn't noticed that she was leaning farther and farther forward. She was too occupied in the hot mess before her. Come on, Pheebs. Get it together!

"Oof," Helga said thickly as her balance finally broke. "Oh god!"

"Shh," Arnold said. But Helga couldn't help it. Something in her grip shifted, like the shelf's supports were giving way. With Arnold stacked on top of her, there was no saving it. The shelf broke, books fell and slid hard into her face, Arnold collapsed on her back and they hit the ground. The crash was very - very loud.

Gerald snapped his head in their direction, but Arnold was just fast enough. He grabbed Helga around the waist, wrenched her up, and dragged her down the aisle.

"This is NONE of your Business!" Gerald bellowed and Arnold could hear him get up and storm over to their hiding spot. By the time he arrived though, Arnold had Helga around the corner, pressed flat to the wall, his hand over her mouth again.

When Gerald turned around, Phoebe was staring out the window. He walked back over to the table and his uneaten lunch. The tension bubble had burst. Gerald started picking up his stuff.

"Who was it?" She asked.

"Dunno - eavesdroppers…" Gerald said, not looking at her either. "Maybe we should take a break."

"In the conversation or -" she started.

"Yes - in the conversation." Gerald snapped. He shook his head and refrained from making any comments on what she was going to say.

"Ok." Phoebe sat down, folding her hands in her lap and letting her vision go blurry.

Gerald looked at her for a moment. She looked small. He wanted to say I love you, but was afraid it would come out wrong. Instead, he walked over to her, kissed lightly on the top of her head, and walked away without another word.

As Gerald left his search, Arnold let his hand slide from Helga's face. He was looking over her shoulder, but she was looking at him. They were pressed together, breathing in rhythm, in hiding. When Arnold turned back he…just looked at her.

They stood there like that for maybe five seconds. But it felt like a lot more. Each breath stretched out as their eyes dropped from each other, until they finally stood up straight and separated. Helga had stolen a close up glance at Arnold's lips, as she had so many times before. She didn't notice that he had done the same.

"Uh - sorry about that." Arnold finally managed.

"The sh-shelf broke or something." Helga said, dazed. "Is Phoebe gone yet?"

Arnold craned his neck around and caught Phoebe slowly passing the circulation desk and leaving. "Yeah, she's gone."

Without another word, Helga started toward the door. Arnold called out softly, "You ok?"

"Yeah - Yeah. I'm fine." Helga said. She felt strangely guilty, and maybe angry? With herself, or Phoebe, or Gerald - she didn't know. She was still working it out.

After a beat of thick silence, they left the library together and then went their separate ways for the rest of the day.