Things are about to get kinky, y'all.

Arnold was late. Over thirty minutes late, to be precise. Helga gave him a ten-minute grace period before she started sending him several texts with no responses back. She was already on edge after her conversation with Rhonda, and his tardiness only further grated on her nerves. She couldn't stop thinking about everything that happened over the last week with Arnold. It was embarrassing how easily she allowed herself to be enraptured by the idea of him without knowing a scrap of information about the guy. Helga could only blame herself for comparing him to her fantasy.

Of course a guy as charismatic as him has his own freakin harem.

Helga checked her phone again; it was 5:47. She decided to send him a final text, telling him to forget everything and delete her number. Her thumb hovered above the send button in hesitation.

"Sorry I'm late!" Arnold casually strolled over to her table at the back of the café. Her dour expression left nothing to his imagination. "Aw come on! I got hung up with something."

She held up her phone, "did you forget how to use your thumbs and text me back?"

He sat down across the table from her, watching her through half lidded eyes. It was almost predatory, making her all the more aware of his sexual prowess. "All of my fingers are in perfect working order, I assure you."

Helga was fully prepared to quip back at him, but once her initial irritation had subsided, she noticed something different about Arnold; his cheeks were flushed, his shirt was slightly unbuttoned, and his unruly blonde locks were more tousled than usual. He just had sex. "Did you seriously stop somewhere for a quickie with one of your birds before coming here?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Someone's been doing their research."

"You aren't even going to try and deny it? Crimeny! Have some tact, football head." She shook her head a few times to reset her thoughts. "Just forget that for now. I wanted to meet you so we could clear some things up between us." He remained silent, watching her with a hint of amusement gleaming in his eye. "I didn't… Know." A blush crept across her cheeks. "I wasn't soliciting your services, or whatever. I'm sorry for the confusion. It was my fault for making assumptions about someone I don't know."

Arnold maintained his silence for a few moments, seemingly pondering something. "We both made assumptions. To be honest, I thought you knew about me the whole time. When you started following me around, I figured you were waiting for an opportunity to ask me to hook up. I gave you a week before doing it myself. That's not typically my style, but… you intrigued me." He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Despite whatever colorful rumors you might have heard about me, I don't go around harassing women for sex."

"It's alright, Arnold. I wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, I was impressed by your confidence." Their eyes met, and that familiar electricity from before was resurfacing stronger than ever. Why do you have to be someone I can't have? His fingers inched closer to hers across the table but stopped just short of touching her.

"Consider me equally impressed." Helga resisted the urge to grab his hand and shove it directly down her pants. The heat pooling in her lower half was maddening and making her feel all kinds of things she knew she shouldn't. The lustful look in Arnold's eyes showed that he knew exactly what she was thinking. "I'll never touch you without your consent, Helga." He whispered, accounting for the other people in the café. "I'm not imagining this, am I? This… spark."

The seductive tone of his words pulled her from her pornographic reverie. "Whether it's a spark or a full-blown inferno, we both know it'll never work. I'm not cut out to be one of your birds." It was far too easy to get pulled in by him. She had to keep reminding herself that Arnold wasn't just 'some guy'. Hell, he had just had sex less than an hour ago and he was already trying to tempt her to be his round two for the night.

"Geez." He groaned in contempt, and a darkness overcame his typically soft features, "I can't believe people are still going around referring to any woman I sleep with as a 'bird'. I didn't coin that stupid nickname. Wolfgang and Ludwig started that crap!"

Helga decided to test his declaration of being 'an open book'; "How many girls do you sleep with regularly? Not the one-night stands."

"Right now, there's three."

She had to admit, it wasn't nearly as many as she expected it to be. In her mind, she was picturing six or seven of them. "And the one-night stands? Are they every day or what?"

"Good lord, woman! I'm not a machine. My dick would fall off if I was going at it every single day." The sound of his genuine laughter surprised her. It was her first time hearing it. "It doesn't happen as often as you think. Maybe once or twice a month, give or take." He cocked his head to the side with the most adorable expression Helga had ever seen. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're scoping me out with these questions."

He wasn't wrong. Helga was curious about his… unique situation. She'd never met anyone like him before. She always considered herself open-minded when it comes to most things, including bedroom activities. Rhonda once regaled her roommates with the tale of her threesome with her ex and his best friend. Phoebe was aghast, Connie was proud, and Helga was thinking about the logistics of being fucked by two dudes at once, not considering the 'immoral' label attached with it.

Maybe there really IS something wrong with me. I'm a basket case.

"No matter how much we eye fuck each other and sit here and debate hooking up, it's not going to change the fact that we live completely different lives. Think with your brain instead of your dick for once; do you really want me to become one of your birds? Or is it a one-night stand you're looking for?"

The sincerity of her question gave him pause, reminding him that Helga wasn't like the girls who usually sought him out. What did he want from her?

"I… don't know." His brow furrowed, deep in thought. When he received her text earlier, he immediately accepted her invitation. He hoped she had reconsidered his proposition, but it was highly unlikely. He made a split-second decision to call up his number one for a quickie, so he'd be able to sit through this meeting with Helga without a chub pressing against his zipper the whole time.

"You know I like you." She whispered, causing a disturbance in Arnold's pants despite his earlier release. "I don't care how many women you've slept with. Frankly, it's none of my business. But… I don't know if I have the mental fortitude to keep up with you."

The corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile. "I've gotta hand it to you, you're one of the few people I've met who doesn't try and lecture me. There's no usual 'value yourself more!' or 'you're a pig!' that I've heard over and over." He retracted his hand from the spot next to hers. "You're one of a kind, Helga Pataki… I respect you."

For some reason, earning Arnold's respect felt more rewarding than earning his lust, or even his affection. "There's no doubt you're a strange guy, football head." She chuckled. "But I'm also strange." She turned her hand over on the table as an invitation, "Friends?"

The last female friend Arnold had was in seventh grade. Every girl since has either been a girlfriend, or a sex partner. Fuck it. He slid his larger hand over hers, cupping them palm to palm. "Friends."

'Friends' was an ironic statement for either of them to make; given that neither had been more turned on in their lives, solely from holding someone's hand.

**Two weeks later**

"I feel like a fucking idiot." Helga deadpanned. "You said this wasn't going to take long!" She was currently posing in some weird artsy position with a fake rose in her hand, and dolled up from head to toe, wearing a ridiculous black and red rockabilly swing dress that looked straight out of a prom from the 1950's. Rhonda had bribed Helga with the promise of unlimited pizza and beer for the rest of the school year if she agreed to be her live model for her art class assignment. She'd been sitting there on the edge of the fountain at Tina Park for nearly two hours now, and her ass had fallen asleep. Multiple individuals stopped to gawk at her, which only added to the humiliation.

Rhonda peeked over the top of her sketchbook, "I'm almost done! Just stop moving. I'm getting the details of your clothes just right!" Her ultimate goal was to be a fashion designer someday. Clothes were her life, which is how Helga ended up in this horrendous getup from Rhonda's unlimited clothing collection. "You should seriously consider letting me give you a makeover. Nearly every guy who's walked by tripped over himself when they saw you!"

"Probably because I look like a freak! Crimeny." Helga was grateful for the heavy amount of blush on her cheeks, which was masking her actual blush. She was comfortable with her usual style, T-shirts and jeans, and an occasional pair of sweatpants when she was feeling particularly lazy.

"Alright! I'm DONE!" She let out a relieved sigh and stretched her arms above her head. "Wanna see?"

"Thank fuck." Helga stiffly stood up, shaking each of her legs to loosen them up before going over to Rhonda. It was strange to see a mirror image of herself on a sheet of paper. There was something mournful about the expression on her face. It was haunting, but well drawn. "Huh. Not too shabby, princess. You made me look human! Now-" she gestured to her ridiculous outfit, "get me back home so I can get out of this crap!"

"I thought we'd go get dinner?" she teased.

"I'm not above stripping right here!"

"Spare me." A male voice said from behind them. Gerald stood a few yards away with a basketball tucked under his arm, and a duffle bag on his other shoulder. "I stopped by your place, and you weren't home." He gave her a once over, "Halloween isn't until next month."

"Oh, shut up! Asshole." Helga glowered at him. "Why were you at my house?"

"I was returning something." He gave her a pointed look, and she instantly pursed her lips shut, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"Fascinating." Rhonda hummed under her breath, clearly enjoying the awkwardness. "Would you like to join us for dinner, Gerald?"

"Rhonda!"

He gave her an apologetic look, "I have basketball practice, but thanks for the offer." As he brushed by Helga to leave, he leaned over and whispered low enough for only her to hear, "You look hot."

The blush on her cheeks couldn't be mistaken for makeup anymore. Rhonda was eating this interaction up. She could hardly wait for Gerald to be far enough away to start squealing like a lunatic and bouncing excitedly. "He still wants you, Helga! Holy shit!"

"One-night stand, Rhonda." She reminded her. "Plus, he doesn't want me!" And she certainly didn't want him. There was nothing wrong with him admiring her in a silly outfit. It didn't mean he wanted to rip her clothes off and bend her over the lip of the fountain and give everyone a show.

"Keep telling yourself that, but don't be surprised when he confesses his undying love for you!" She ignored Helga's angry glare, stuffing the rest of her art supplies in her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "Let's get back home. You still have a paper to write for your English class, and I have a hot date with some calculus equations. We can order something for delivery. Sound good?"

"Perfect."

It turned out to be a horrible idea to go home early. As soon as they walked through the front door, the girls were immediately assaulted by the horrific image of Connie on her knees, pleasuring a familiar football headed blonde guy with her mouth. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, and his pants were hanging haphazardly from his hips. His backside was pressed against the back of their couch, as if he was accosted right when he came inside and didn't even have a chance to sit down on the other side.

"Oh wow!" Rhonda looked away with a laugh.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Helga screeched, covering her eyes. She didn't get to see his dick for more than a few seconds, but she saw enough to know he was blessed in that department.

"Helga?" He sounded far too casual for being literally caught with his pants down.

"Why are you back already!?" Connie shuffled back to her feet. "You said you wouldn't be back until eight!"

"Helga didn't want to go out dressed like this." Rhonda and Connie continued their conversation as if there wasn't a man with an erection standing right behind them.

"Can I address the fucking elephant in the room!?" Helga removed her hand from her eyes. She was relieved to see Arnold had tucked himself back into his pants and zipped his jeans up. The bulge remained, though. "Why are you here, Arnold? And why were you two getting freaky in our living room!? Connie has a bedroom RIGHT over there!" She pointed to the room only a few feet away from the couch.

"I stopped by with a friend. He had something to drop off." Helga's eyes widened. He knows Gerald!? "She answered the door." He motioned to Connie. "She asked me if I wanted to fuck, and I said yes. And now here you are!" He chuckled. "I didn't know you lived here."

"So nice to finally meet you in person, Arnold. I'm Rhonda Wellington Lloyd." She took great joy in witnessing good gossip material, and this was S-tier stuff.

"Enough with the pleasantries!" Helga rolled her eyes. "Connie, go fuck in your room like a normal person. Rhonda and I have homework to do, so keep it down!"

"Alright! Geez." She grabbed Arnold by his belt loops and gave them a tug. "Give me a minute to straighten up my room?"

"Sure." He shrugged indifferently.

Rhonda took off upstairs, most likely to call her best friend Nadine to spread the fresh gossip. Connie disappeared into her room, leaving Arnold and Helga standing awkwardly in the living room.

"I should get downstairs-"

"You look nice." His head slowly tilted to the side, raking his eyes over her. "Good spank bank material."

"Please!" She laughed. "You're about to get laid, and you're thinking about what you'll masturbate to later? Does a guy in your position even need to jerk off?" Her breath hitched when he stepped closer towards her.

"No amount of sex will erase this from my mind. I can't escape the inevitable." Helga knew this wasn't what normal friends said to one another, but not every friend was Arnold Shortman.

"Go get your prize, Arnold." He gasped in surprised when she roughly grabbed his collar and whispered in his ear, "Slap her face with your dick for me. That bitch knew how I felt about you." She was desperately squeezing her thighs together to ease the throbbing between her legs. Her knees buckled when he moaned.

"Whatever you say, Helga."

Suggesting the two have sex in Connie's room was an error on her part. Her room was directly above Helga's. She was forced to listen to the creaking of the floorboards and rhythmic thumping from his thrusts mixed with Connie's pleasured moans for nearly two hours. She had to give the guy credit; he knew how to fuck. In a perfect world, she would be the one underneath him. It's all she could picture the entire time, especially after getting a preview of his junk earlier. It went without saying that absolutely none of her homework was completed.

She spent nearly thirty minutes in the shower trying to get herself off to relieve her frustrations but was unsuccessful. Phoebe knocked on the door just as she was about to finally get there. All in all, it had been an unbelievably shitty day. That pesky homework wasn't going to do itself, and not doing it wasn't an option. Helga sat cuddled up beneath her sheets, trying to bullshit her way through her essay so she could get some sleep.

Her phone lit up next to her.

Arnold: 'You up?'

'Yeah.'

He immediately called her. "Hey football head." She tried her best to sound as casual as possible. "What's up?"

"I've been jerking it for the last hour, and I can't come. I need your voice."

"O-oh! Uh… I see." She practically threw her notebook across the room. Fuck homework right now. "Wait, who said I would help you jerk off, Arnoldo? What do I get out of it?"

"I tried to give you some good material when I was with that girl-"

"Connie." She corrected. "There's a name that goes along with the pussy. Don't forget that."

"Ohhh, that's good. I like hearing filthy words coming from your mouth." His voice was ridiculously husky. Knowing he was touching himself while thinking about her was such a turn on.

"Did you have fun with Connie? You were going at it a long time." She subconsciously slipped her hand beneath the hem of her shirt, experimentally tracing her fingertips across her stomach and ribs, stopping just short of her breasts. She was hardly a phone sex expert, given she'd never done this before, and she felt awkward pawing at herself. How would he touch me? She closed her eyes, trying to get into the fantasy.

"I've had better." He murmured. "I could hardly concentrate on picturing she was you while she was squawking in my freakin ear. It took me forever to finish." His words encouraged her to finally slide her hand under the band of her underwear, reaching the place she desperately needed to be. She let out a soft moan before she could stop herself. "Shit. Are you touching yourself, too?"

"Yes." She gasped, slipping a finger inside. "Phoebe interrupted my orgasm in the shower earlier."

"I wish I was there to make you come. I want to feel how fucking tight you are. Are you fingering yourself? Tell me." His breathing was becoming more labored. She was also pretty sure she could hear the lube squishing in his hand as he stroked himself.

"Mmm, yeah. I just put in a second one. It's not enough, though. I saw a glimpse of your cock earlier, and that's all I can fucking think about. Did you slap that bitch with it like I asked you to? Did you make her choke on it, pretending I was the one looking up at you instead?"She had no idea where this confidence was coming from, but she didn't care. The thought of pleasing him with dirty talk brought her that much closer to the edge.

"Helga! Ah- You know I did. I'd kill to see you on your knees with your pretty little lips wrapped around me." His voice dropped to a whisper, "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you."

Her orgasm went off like a rocket, sudden and intense. "Arnold! Holy shit!" She was reduced to a few simple curse words, and helpless whimpering as she came down from her long overdue release, not realizing Arnold had come as well from listening to her moan his name.

"That was fucking hot." He chuckled. "I haven't come that hard in a long time."

As Arnold continued to babble mindlessly in her ear, the dreaded post-nut clarity was hitting her. What did I just do!? I gave him exactly what he wanted! She cut him off mid-sentence, "I have to go."

"Are you okay-"

"I'm fine. Good night, Arnold." She hung up and immediately turned her phone off. After a pit stop in the bathroom, Helga found herself frantically knocking on Phoebe's bedroom door.

"Helga? What's going on?" She was bleary eyed and sans-glasses, clearly disturbed from her slumber.

"I'm giving myself an intervention, Phoebs." She grabbed the other girls' hand, placing her phone in it. "Keep that away from me for now, please?"

"O-okay? Is everything alright?"

"I need to get my head on straight, and that thing isn't doing me any favors!"

She left without another word, leaving Phoebe more confused than ever.

Helga hadn't slept much the previous night, which lead to her current zombie-like state. Her breakfast of fruit and toast sat untouched in front of her at the kitchen table, too wrapped up in her own concerning thoughts. Why did I get carried away like that!? It's bad enough I let him jerk off on the phone, but it didn't mean I had to JOIN him. She wondered how she was supposed to face him again after everything she said in the heat of the moment. There weren't going to be any more late-night phone calls or flirty texts. They were supposed to be friends! This was FAR from what friends did with each other.

"Morning." Connie strolled into the kitchen without a care in the world, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and going about her usual business. "What's got you looking like the crypt keeper this morning?" she glanced over her shoulder at her with a smirk.

Ah, so she slept with him to try and get to me.

"Did you enjoy putting on your little performance?" She clapped back. "You went a little heavy with the moaning. I doubt he believed you."

"Oh, come on, Helga! Don't be that way." She sat across from her at the table. "You weren't going to sleep with him anyway. He literally showed up at our doorstep! I couldn't resist going for it. It's nothing personal."

You fucking liar.

"Did he live up to the hype?" She violently stabbed a grape on her plate with a butter knife, pretending it was Connie's eye.

"Honestly? He fucks like a champion, but he's kind of weird. The guy thinks he's Julia Roberts or some shit."

"What?"

"Uh, hello? 'Pretty Woman', the movie? Her character is a prostitute who doesn't kiss her clients. When I tried to kiss him, he fucking shoved my head back on to the pillow and said he doesn't kiss. It totally killed the vibes. I mean, I still let him fuck me… but it was weird as hell."

Arnold didn't come across as the type of guy who'd be a prude about something as mundane as kissing. There had to be more to it than that.

"The plot thickens!" Rhonda rounded the corner, making her presence known. "So, it's true! I've heard it more than once; he has a weird thing about nobody getting their face near his. The rumor is that one of his previous birds tried to bite his tongue off when she got jealous of another girl!"

"That's fucking ridiculous, Rhonda." Helga scoffed. "Speaking of, who are his birds? Do we know any of them?" She could easily ask Arnold herself, but she didn't want to come across as nosey. There was also the whole 'they had phone sex and now it's awkward for her' thing.

"I've only heard rumors. Never any confirmation. One of them is supposedly a senior, and another is around our age."

"He has three birds, though-" She bit down on her lip, cursing herself for revealing what little knowledge she had.

"I'll have to contact some of my sources." Rhonda winked.

"Alright, Detective Rhonda. Have fun wasting your time!" She subconsciously reached for her pocket to grab her phone. Fuck! It's still in Phoebe's room. I forgot I still needed it for the school app and email. She quickly excused herself from the kitchen to rush back down to the basement. Phoebe was already on campus, so she was going to have to sneak into her room to get her phone. Thankfully, it was sitting on her pristinely organized desk. As soon as she turned it back on, it began buzzing nonstop with texts and missed call notifications… All from Arnold.

Arnold: 'Helga!? What happened? Is everything okay?'

Arnold: 'Why aren't you answering your phone? I'm freaking out over here!'

Arnold: 'I'm sorry if I crossed a line tonight. It was really stupid of me.'

Arnold: 'If I made you feel uncomfortable or violated in any way, I deeply apologize. I never asked you if what we were doing was okay, and that's NOT okay. Consent comes first. I'm so, so sorry.'

Arnold: 'I'm losing my mind! I need to know you're okay. Please, talk to me.'

Helga's heart wrenched in pain. He was genuinely afraid he'd done something she hadn't consented to. She wasn't trying to make him have an existential crisis by turning off her phone. His last text was less than an hour ago, did he ever go to sleep? She pressed his contact information and dialed his number.

"HELGA! I was trying to get ahold of you all night! Fuck… I'm SO sorry-"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Arnold. Take a deep breath. I went AWOL because… I'm… Embarrassed and confused. I don't know how to navigate a friendship with someone I'm sexually attracted to, okay? I panicked after what we did."

"I put you in that position to begin with, it's my responsibility as the… aggressor in this situation. I'm the one who pushed you."

"I liked it." She whispered. "And it scares me how much I liked it. You're dangerous, but not in the ways you think you are… I get lost in you so easily. I could write a thousand poems about how fucking perfect you are. It's infuriating… Because I can't have you. Friendship is all I can handle, and even then, I manage to screw that up within a matter of weeks."

He stayed silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. "Where do we go from here?"

"I have no fucking clue, football head."

Helga didn't have the will or confidence to be one of his birds, and Arnold didn't have the ability to be a one-woman guy. They were at an impasse. Friendship was the only option, and even that was a struggle.

But… could she ever truly be friends with a man she'll inevitably fall in love with?

It's only gonna get messier from here. LOL!

Also, if there are any mistakes, I'll fix them later! I just spent nearly nine hours straight writing this.