Content warning for this chapter: Mentions of rape. Nothing is graphically depicted whatsoever, but there's a conversation about it. Please be aware!
Also: SMUT.
" Kiss me." She whispered. " Show me what you're made of."
He caught her surprised gasp with his mouth when he pulled her body against his, melding them perfectly together and pressing her against the wall he'd been leaning on previously when she approached him. He cradled her cheek in his hand, groaning when she slipped her tongue between his lips and grasped desperately to the front of his shirt. She didn't feel embarrassed by the dozens of eyes that were probably watching them in the middle of this crowded room. Helga had one goal: making a statement. Don't underestimate me. She slightly cracked one eyelid open to scan the room. Her message was definitely getting across. Rhonda was wolf-whistling in the distance, and several others had their phones out to capture the moment for posterity.
They finally separated their mouths, gasping for air and panting. " Are you sure this is all you want?" His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered. " My place?"
"Nobody's going anywhere!" A hand slapped against the wall right next to them. "What the hell!? You're seriously making out with my best friend just to fuck with me?"
Gerald raised an eyebrow at Helga. "You two know each other?"
She glanced at Arnold, narrowing her eyes. " Hardly."
**24 hours earlier**
It had been three weeks since the phone sex incident with Arnold. After the phone surrendering fiasco, Helga came clean with Phoebe about everything. It was unavoidable with her abnormally erratic behavior, and Phoebe was a wise woman. She knew something was going on, and one day she sat her down in her computer chair and told her: "I'm done tiptoeing around this! Spill it. You're not acting like yourself. What's going on?"
Helga didn't like feeling vulnerable and relying on others if she could help it. She resisted her questioning to no avail. Phoebe was relentless when she had her sights on something, and she wanted the truth. She finally conceded, telling Phoebe about the stalking incident, the initial misunderstanding between the two, and everything in between. To her credit, Phoebe didn't freak out and scold her like she thought she would. More than anything, she was deeply worried about her.
Ever since learning the truth, Phoebe kept a close eye on her and Arnold, whom she insisted on meeting to ' evaluate' him. She couldn't deny his charms, but she also saw the underlying insincerity in his cheeriness. "He has secrets. Deep ones." It was something Helga and she both agreed on. Arnold had a story, and Helga wanted to unfold the mystery.
Surprisingly, Arnold behaved himself for the most part after their conversation about the shaky foundation of their friendship. The longing glances were still there, and the electricity still coursed through their veins… but that's as far as it went. Most of their interactions happened through text, or in class. Arnold even switched seats to sit next to her.
" Are you going to Fitzy's Halloween party tomorrow?" Arnold whispered, his attention had long since departed from their professor's lecture. Elliot Fitzgerald, dubbed ' Fitzy' by the other students, was a well-known, rich, and unbelievably popular senior who was known for his amazing parties. Helga liked to tease Rhonda about being born with a silver spoon in her mouth. But Fitzy? He wasn't born with a silver spoon; his parents owned the entire mine. He lived in a high-rise, lavish building on the upper east side of Hillwood. Everyone wanted to party at Fitzy's.
" Rhonda bought these ridiculous costumes for it. I'm not fully convinced to dress up like a slutty police officer to coincide with the 'female Village People' shtick she has planned with our friends." She could immediately tell that Arnold was already picturing it in his mind. " Down boy. I haven't agreed to do it."
" Is it a latex suit?" He bit his bottom lip.
" Arnold!" It was latex, but she wanted to surprise him if she decided to wear it. " Rhonda is going to be the biker. She's got a full leather bodysuit, skirt, and chains. It's way sexier than a cop."
" I beg to differ. Everything about you screams 'obey me'."
She snickered under her breath, " Well, I guess you'll find out tomorrow if I play along with her shenanigans." They held eye contact for several seconds. She looked away first, pretending to pay attention to the lecture once again.
By the next day, Helga was already starting to regret agreeing to another one of Rhonda's ridiculous requests. Her costume barely covered her ass, and she felt like she was moving around in some sort of twisted medieval strangulation device due to the tightness. The thigh high boots felt like overkill.
"You expect me to spend the entire night like this!? I've practically got my cooch hanging out for the world to see!" She turned her back to Rhonda's floor length mirror, looking over her shoulder to confirm if her ass was showing. Her long blonde hair covered a good portion of her back, but her ass was still in the danger zone.
"You look amazing Helga!" Phoebe stood beside her, dressed as a much more tastefully covered cowgirl.
"You don't look terrible." Connie drawled. She was dressed as the construction worker, sporting an ultra-short pair of jean shorts with a tool belt, and a tight white T-shirt that was turned into a crop top, cut and tied just beneath her ample chest. Rhonda's best friend Nadine was meeting them at the party, rounding out their group as the soldier.
"If you expect me to dance to ' YMCA' like this, you're fucking mistaken. If I lift my arms, everything is gonna fall out from the bottom of this piece of scrap material you call a dress."
"Oh Helga, stop worrying so much!" Rhonda was sitting at her vanity, brushing her raven locks and admiring herself in the mirror before she had to put on her hat. Every time she moved her arm, there was a sound of chains rattling together. She vaguely looked like a dominatrix mixed with a biker. "I overheard that most of the basketball team was coming tonight." She met Helga's threatening glare in the mirror, trying to suppress a smirk at the sight of Helga's reddened cheeks. "They're riding on the high of their latest win. I'm sure they're looking to celebrate, if you know what I mean."
"Good for them." Helga muttered. "Alright, let's get this shit over with already. You've been combing your hair for twenty minutes! Let's GO!"
"Okay, okay! Geez. Keep your panties on… or don't." She grinned.
The amount of cat calling they endured as soon as they entered Fitzy's place was ridiculous. A group of scantily clad, beautiful women was bound to cause an uproar from the horny males. Helga didn't care what they thought. She was far more interested in seeing Arnold's reaction. There was no sight of him so far, but knowing Arnold, he was lurking somewhere less inconspicuous. She knew just how good he was at evading when he wanted to.
The girls separated almost instantly. Rhonda wanted to cuddle up to Fitzy, praying he'll finally throw her a bone. Connie went to find her friend Maria, and Phoebe met up with her small group of friends hovering by the DJ booth. Where's my football head? She causally walked through the place, trying to convey a sense of nonchalance despite her searching eyes.
"Hot damn." Ludwig appeared in front of her, holding a red cup in his hand. "Are you gonna start reading me my rights?"
"How about I kick your balls so far up your body that you can taste them?" She snarled. "Leave me alone!" She shoved her way past him.
"Arnold is on the balcony." Helga froze, turning to look at him once again. "Tweet tweet, little birdy." He grinned.
"I'm not one of his birds!"
"They're all here tonight, you know… his birds." He took a sip of his drink, raising his eyebrows as if he was daring her to act like she was uninterested. When she remained silent, he circled around her a few times like a hungry vulture. "Wanna meet the flock?" She silently nodded, letting curiosity win. He gestured towards the kitchen before leading the way. "The pretty little thing dressed like a mermaid? That's Summer. She's about as intelligent as a pile of bricks, but she's a loyal little bird. Discreet as well. She's his number two. He keeps them in his phone contacts as individual numbers instead of names, ya see. Discretion is the game." He nudged her towards the living room, guiding her through the crowd of people. "Devil costume, to your right. That's Chloe. Not as dim as Summer, but she certainly isn't bragging to her parents about making the Dean's list. She's his number three."
Helga was feeling sick to her stomach. These girls were beautiful. A skimpy cop outfit was hardly impressive in comparison to their banging bodies. She suddenly felt ridiculous for feeling confident enough to impress Arnold earlier.
" Ready to meet his number one?" He whispered from behind.
"Yes." She wanted to face her direct competition… even if it meant finally accepting that Arnold would never choose her over them. Maybe this was the closure she needed.
"She's with Arnold. They both just came inside from the balcony. Peep them by the keg." Helga whipped around to look. A tall brunette dressed as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz stood next to him as he poured her a drink. She was twirling a lock of her hair around her finger and chattering away. The two were in the middle of some sort of conversation, and it looked innocent enough to the untrained eye. The possessive grasping of his arm told Helga otherwise. "Ruth P. McDougal. The minx. His number one, and his longstanding bird. They started hooking up during his freshman year."
"I'm confused about something, Ludwig." She turned to look at him. "Why are you doing this? Why are you so hellbent on deterring me away from him?"
"He fucked my ex two days after we broke up. I hate him, to put it simply. He gets way too much pussy for a guy who doesn't deserve it."
"Of course he screwed your ex." She sighed, knowing his ex probably propositioned Arnold on a whim, and he accepted without a second thought. "Just… back off already, okay? You made your point to me. I've seen them, and I got your message; I'm smarter than his birds, and I can do better. Am I right?"
"It doesn't matter what I tell you, you're already caught on his hook. I knew it from day one." He finished off the contents of his cup in one swig. "Enjoy the party."
It's a little late for that now, asshole.
Helga couldn't help but watch Arnold and Ruth on the other side of the room. They seemed comfortable around each other, which made sense, given how long they've been hooking up. Her stomach took a turn for the worse when Ruth leaned in close, whispering something in Arnold's ear and making him grin. She's probably offering to fuck him tonight. I can't compete with any of his birds. It was stupid to think I could.
Gerald's laughter caught her attention. He was leaning against the wall on the other side of the living room, talking to a few of his basketball buddies. What's the saying? 'The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else' He was a good prospect for the night; she knew him, and she's fucked him before. They have some kind of freaky, inexplicable sexual tension together, and he's not a complete and utter douchebag. She just needed to find out if he was game.
Time to turn up the charm.
She approached Gerald with her head held high, subtly glancing in Arnold's direction one last time. He and Ruth had moved to the living room as well. "Hey Geraldo. What's shakin?"
His eyes opened comically wide at her costume, getting an eyeful of her smooth thighs. "Helga? Uh… what's up?" She gave his teammates a look, prompting Gerald to dismiss them.
"The outfit is ridiculous, I know. Rhonda had a vision, and I was powerless to stop her." She laughed, subtly taking a step closer to him. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"You don't want to be my boyfriend, right?"
He pushed himself off the wall, looking at her like she was insane. "What!?" He laughed. "Not particularly. We had some rockin sex, and that's about where it ends."
"So you do remember that night!" She playfully shoved his shoulder. "I wish I could say the same. I don't even remember kissing you."
"What a shame." He dreamily smiled and sighed, clearly joking.
"Wanna change that?" He stopped smiling, eyeing her cautiously to see if she was messing with him.
"Are you drunk?"
"Stone cold sober." She closed the distance between them, grabbing the front of his shirt. "You don't want to date me, and I don't want to date you. But is there some kind of written rule that says we can't enjoy each other when the mood strikes?"
Gerald picked up on Helga's flirty playfulness. "Can you handle kissing me when you aren't shitfaced? I've been told I'm pretty good. We don't want you fainting in those stripper boots."
" Kiss me." She whispered. " Show me what you're made of."
He caught her surprised gasp with his mouth when he pulled her body against his, melding them perfectly together and pressing her against the wall he'd been leaning on previously when she approached him. He cradled her cheek in his hand, groaning when she slipped her tongue between his lips and grasped desperately to the front of his shirt. She didn't feel embarrassed by the dozens of eyes that were probably watching them in the middle of this crowded room. Helga had one goal: making a statement. Don't underestimate me. She slightly cracked one eyelid open to scan the room. Her message was definitely getting across. Rhonda was wolf-whistling in the distance, and several others had their phones out to capture the moment for posterity.
They finally separated their mouths, gasping for air and panting. " Are you sure this is all you want?" His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered. " My place?"
"Nobody's going anywhere!" A hand slapped against the wall right next to them. "What the hell!? You're seriously making out with my best friend just to fuck with me?"
Gerald raised an eyebrow at Helga. "You two know each other?"
She glanced at Arnold, narrowing her eyes. " Hardly."
"What's the issue then, man?" Gerald turned his attention to Arnold, but still held Helga in his arms. "We've already discussed this." He clenched his teeth in irritation.
A look of clarity hit Arnold. "Wait… That was her house… She was the one-night stand!?"
" Talk about the pot calling the kettle black." she muttered, pressing against Gerald's shoulders and moving away from him. "Yeah, we had sex before the start of the semester. What of it?"
Gerald was far from stupid, and he knew nearly every detail of Arnold's life. At least, he thought he knew. "Please tell me she's not on your list of booty calls, Arnold."
"HEY!" Helga angrily slapped his shoulder. "I'm nobody's booty call, bucko! He's never laid a finger on me. He wants to, of course." Her eyes traveled over to Arnold's. "He doesn't need me to service him. He has a whole pit crew for that."
"I'm fucking confused." Gerald sighed in exasperation. "Are we gonna have sex or what?"
Arnold looked like he was about to explode, she could see the vein in his neck pulsing. "Not tonight, Geraldo." She looked directly into Arnold's eyes and grasped Gerald's chin, placing another chaste kiss on his lips. Helga released him, leaving them without excusing herself. The irony of the DJ playing ' U + UR Hand' wasn't lost on her. Sorry Gerald. I hope you bag a hottie tonight.
"We're not done!" Arnold nearly barreled into her.
"Yes, we are." She kept her back to him. "Ruth, Summer, and Chloe. They're beautiful girls. Kudos to you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom." It was the only place she could think of where she could collect herself in peace. Arnold wasn't having it, though. Without touching her, he managed to weasel his way into the bathroom before she could shut him out. He moved quickly, backing her against the door with his right forearm resting near her head, leaving an opening on her side if she chose to get away from him. Even still, he hadn't touched her. This was the closest she'd ever physically been to him, and it made her heart pound. She could feel his body heat. All she could think about was how it'd feel against her skin. "You don't even have the balls to go for it when you have me right where you want me? What kind of player are you?"
"Goading me doesn't give me the right to touch you… I need to hear you say it first." She pursed her lips, looking away from him. " Why are you fighting this, Helga?"
"You have three beautiful, willing women waiting for you. Why the fuck would you need me?"
"I haven't had sex with any of them lately, or anyone for that matter. Not since Connie."
Helga whipped her head towards him. "Don't fucking lie to me. There's no way you'd go three weeks without sticking your dick in someone."
"I'm many things, but a liar isn't one of them." His left hand reached up but paused just short of touching her face. "I needed to confirm something for myself. That's why I didn't have sex."
" Did you find what you were looking for?" she whispered.
He nodded. " You were the only one I couldn't stop thinking about."
Helga grabbed his left hand and lead it to the inner curve of her thigh. " I want you to touch me." That was all it took for Arnold to finally touch her. She yelped when both hands grabbed her below her ass to carry her to the counter, gently setting her down on the cool surface. He splayed his fingers across her thighs, opening her legs for him. The short latex skirt immediately rolled over her hips, displaying the ridiculous black thong she was forced to wear with this outfit.
" Holy shit." He hissed under his breath. "You're so fucking sexy."
When his fingers slipped beneath the band of her underwear, she grabbed his wrist. "You can take it off… but touching only. No sex." No matter how turned on she was, she still knew better than to fuck someone in a bathroom at a house party.
"I hear you loud and clear." He devilishly grinned, pulling her underwear down in one fell swoop, maneuvering it effortlessly over her boots and tossing them to the side. She felt ridiculously exposed beneath his lustful gaze. He placed his index and middle fingers against her bottom lip, prompting her to open her mouth. She moaned when his fingers slowly entered between her lips. Holy fucking shit, he wants me to wet his fingers for him. Helga decided to put on a show, bobbing her head up and down, licking and sucking his fingers exactly how he'd appreciate it somewhere else. "You don't fight fair." He pulled his digits out, wasting no time sliding them between her folds and pausing at her entrance. She nodded in approval, having to cover her mouth to stifle her moans as he pressed into her. His eyes never left hers the entire time. After a few seconds he nearly pulled them all the way out, only to thrust them back inside her with a force she'd never felt before. Her lower half involuntarily clenched around his fingers.
" Arnold!" She nearly passed out once he started really moving, thrusting inside her with practiced precision. She hadn't noticed that he'd unzipped the front of her dress, using his other hand to toy with her breasts. Her entire world was spinning from all the sensations wracking her body. Arnold was way too good at this. He's probably done this hundreds of times. There was something missing, though. I want to kiss him. When she reached out and touched his face, his movements momentarily ceased. He continued, grabbing her hand and placing it back at her side without saying a word. He really doesn't kiss. It's not a rumor after all. She cried out with a mixture of surprise and pleasure when he curled his fingers, hitting a different spot.
" You're gonna come, aren't you? I can feel it." His husky voice mixed with his relentless stimulation sent her over the edge, coming with a violent shudder. She fell face first into his chest, going completely limp. Instead of pushing her away, his other hand stroked the back of her head. "Are you with me?" he chuckled. "Don't pass out." He was confused when she started laughing, burying her face in his chest.
"You just made me come in Fitzy's bathroom. Holy fuck!" She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. In this position, she could easily kiss him if she tried. She knew better, though. Whatever relationship that was forming between the two was fragile, she didn't want to scare him off. "Hand job?" she offered.
"Normally I'd thoroughly approve of you touching my dick, but we've been in here way too long." He glanced toward the door. "People might see us leave together… You okay with that? I don't want you getting caught up in Wolfgang and Ludwig's ' bird' bullshit."
Knowing his mouth was off limits, Helga did the next best thing; she kissed the back of his hand. He stared at her, wide eyed. "I don't care what anyone else thinks, football head."
"Screw it." He undid the button of his pants, "A hand job sounds fantastic."
**Two Weeks Later**
Arnold and Helga were lying side by side in her bed, watching a movie with her laptop set up between them. An hour earlier, he had his face between her legs, making her nearly lose her voice from the intensity of her cries. He liked to stick around after their encounters, which Helga thought was adorable. Despite the frequency of their sessions together, they've yet to have sex. She had reservations about fully giving herself to him. First, they weren't dating. Secondly, he refused to kiss or get anywhere near her face. Every opportunity he had to avoid being close, he took it. Third, he hadn't officially ended anything with his birds, despite not having sex with them for now. They viewed it as a hiatus, not an end. Helga wondered if Arnold was afraid to cut them loose, almost like they were his security blanket.
'It wasn't over… It still isn't over.' On screen, Ryan Gosling passionately pulls Rachel McAdams into a kiss in the pouring rain.
Arnold didn't even bat an eyelash. So other people kissing is fine? This subject was starting to drive her to paranoia. She decided to test a theory; she leaned over and kissed his shoulder. He flinched, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, but remained silent. She kissed a little higher on his collar bone.
"What do you think you're doing?" He leaned away from her advances. "Does ' The Notebook' seriously get you all hot and bothered? Or is it a Ryan Gosling thing?"
"Why won't you kiss me, dammit?" Helga was tired of avoiding the subject. "Am I that disgusting to you!?"
"That's not fair. You're putting words in my mouth." He looked back towards the laptop, attempting to drop the subject where it was. She angrily leaned over and slammed it shut, effectively removing his tool of distraction. "Helga." He sighed. "Do we really need to do this?"
"YES! What the fuck do you mean? Do you really expect me to never question why you avoid my face like I'm diseased? Help me understand. Because I'm going to keep coming to my own conclusions, and I hate doing that! And for fucks sake, LOOK AT ME!" He finally turned his face back to hers. "Why?"
He crossed his arms in front of himself, sinking deeper into her bed. "You asked me before why I pretend to smile. I meant it when I said it's a conditioned response. I'm used to disassociating from whatever I'm feeling. It's easier for me."
Her brow furrowed, "Why do you feel the need to disassociate?" She was trying to figure out where he was going with this.
"I thrive on feeling numb, which is why I'm kind of terrified of you. You're passionate, outspoken, and the way you look at me like I'm some sort of scrambled puzzle you're trying to solve makes me squirm. Nobody had the power to make me squirm until you." He blushed, feeling the embarrassment of his admission. "I don't usually let women get close enough to hurt me."
"Have you ever been in love before?" She turned on her side, facing him. "I'm not talking about lust. I'm talking about real passion for someone else."
Something about her facing him made him feel uneasy. "No... I haven't."
"Is that why you don't kiss your birds? So you won't feel anything for them?" He visibly winced when she placed her hand on his arm.
"No. It's nothing like that."
"You give the rest of your body without a second thought, but kissing is where you draw the line?" Helga had a suspicion that there was more to the story, and she wanted an answer. He needs a push. She hurled herself on top of him, putting them nose to nose. "Can I kiss you?"
She wasn't expecting him to start trembling in fear. " Please don't."
Helga instantly regretted using her bluff, removing herself from him. He was still shaking next to her, staring at the ceiling. "Arnold, I wasn't really going to-"
"I don't like kissing. I hate it! It makes me sick. No matter how many times I've tried to make that disgusting feeling go away, I can't forget it."
Forget?
"What do you mean, Arnold?"
"My first kiss." He scoffed bitterly. "If you can call it that." She waited for him to elaborate. "When I was twelve, my grandparents hosted a seventeen-year-old foreign exchange student from Sweden. Her name was Ingrid. We lived in my grandparents boarding house, so it made her living arrangements easy. I remember the first time I was introduced to her when I got home from school one afternoon. She was beautiful, tall, and blonde. I was a prepubescent kid, so of course I was smitten with her. I was constantly trying to impress her or finding ways to spend time with her. She spoke very little English, but after a while, she let me help her learn more words. I was blissfully ignorant, believing she liked me." He balled his fists a few times, as if he was trying to soothe himself somehow. "I woke up one night with her pinning my legs down against my bed, and she was… using her mouth on me. I didn't even know what a blowjob was back then, all I knew was that I was scared. I begged her to stop over and over. I'll never forget the look in her eyes when she slapped me across the face and said ' shut up' in her thick accent. I thought it was finally over, until she crawled on top of me and forced me inside of her. I tried to call out for help… but she pressed her mouth on mine to drown the sound of my screams."
Helga could only stare at him in silence at the conclusion of his story. The reason behind his obsession with consent was suddenly extremely obvious, and why he panicked when she went radio silent after they had phone sex. I crawled on top of him! FUCK. I probably triggered his PTSD. You are a fucking idiot, Helga!
" I'm so sorry I got on top of you like that." She whispered, refraining from crying.
"You didn't know, Helga. In fact, you're only the second person I've told. Only you and Gerald know."
She was horrified at the thought of him having to face something like that alone. He was only a child. "Why didn't you didn't tell your grandparents?"
"Ingrid threatened to tell them I raped her if I tried to tell on her. So, I just… didn't say anything. I was terrified of her." He let out a long sigh, "I still can't sleep at night unless I lock every window and door."
Her heart was shattering for him. There were a million questions going through her head, but none of them mattered right now. "Nobody should ever force themselves on someone. It's deplorable. I hope that motherfuckers plane crashed on her way back to Sweden. Even then, fiery death amongst twisted metal is still too good for her."
"Tell me how you really feel!" he laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Helga's expression was far from light. A part of him was tempted to reach out and touch her face to comfort her, but he refrained. "I survived, okay? I'm one of many… a statistic."
"You're more than that!" she angrily huffed. "You matter, Arnold! You matter… to me."
For the first time since they'd met, he gave her a sincere, but sad smile. "There are times I wish I wasn't the way I am. Like right now… I'd kiss you." He finally touched her face, affectionately rubbing his thumb against her cheek. "You're the first person I've ever wanted to kiss."
She closed her eyes, relishing his gentle touch. It was more intimate than anything they'd done together so far. "I'll never ever force you to do something you don't want to do." She placed her hand over his on her cheek. "I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard earlier. I feel like an asshole."
"Don't beat yourself up over it. I'm not exactly the most forthcoming guy when it comes to this emotional stuff. Now, if you asked me my personal record of how many times I was able to come in a single day, I'd have no problem spilling the tea." He snickered.
"How many times was it?" she grinned.
"Nine."
"Holy shit! Your balls must have shrunk to the size of raisins after nutting that many times, football head! Good lord."
"It was kinda painful, actually. You know you've gone to far when you dread having an orgasm. But hey, I was a bored teenager with nothing but time, and lube on my hands."
"And jizz." She amended. The two exchanged glances, falling into a fit of laughter.
A lot of y'all are wondering if I can wrap this thing up properly by the next chapter, and my genuine answer is: I don't know for sure. Lol. I envisioned this story to be 4-5 chapters. I have an outline I'm following, and I'm in the final stretch. There's some stuff that still needs to happen, so if I can't get everything crammed into chapter four, there WILL be a chapter 5, called "The love you save may be your own" (coinciding with the lyrics of the song, because I'm OCD like that)
Also, the unequivocal support of Helga x Gerald from everybody is only encouraging me to write a oneshot about those two someday. I FREAKIN LOVE THEMMM. Those two would 100% fall in love with each other in this universe if Arnold didn't exist. I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers. There's a TikTok compilation of Gerald and Helga being petty bitches to each other, and it fuckin SENDS me.
I know people were wanting a big production about Arnold discovering the truth about the one night stand, but he'd be the biggest hypocrite EVER if he tried to start shit. lol. Homeboy fucks any adult lady with a pulse. My personal take on his feelings about it: He doesn't love that it happened, but he can't do anything about it. It is what it is.
As for Helga's ex? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm :)