Arnold navigated the hospital halls with a heaviness in his chest. The weight of everything that had happened thus far hung over him like a storm cloud. He knew he had messed up by letting Lila stay over after Phoebe had expressed her distrust. But it wasn't like anything had happened. Still, if he had known better, he could have avoided this mess altogether. The truth was, there was no way of knowing what "better" looked like.
To claim Lila had caused that explosion without any evidence seemed crazy to him. Talking to Phoebe in person felt like the only way to clear things up, as he was left with more questions than answers after their call.
As he stepped off the elevator, he rounded the corner and spotted Phoebe talking to Gerald. Their backs were turned to him, but the tension in Phoebe's shoulders was unmistakable. She kept her head down, shielding herself as if the weight of the world rested on her fragile frame.
Arnold hesitated, unwilling to interrupt their serious moment. The sight of Gerald leaning in close, his hand reaching out to touch Phoebe's arm, sent a jolt of unease through him. She flinched away from him, shaking her head.
They were fighting. Arnold's heart sank as he watched the hurt etched on both his friends' faces. That image struck him hard, igniting a wave of guilt. He turned away, hoping to find solace in Helga's recovery, but anxiety nagged at him.
When he entered Helga's room, he found her awake, propped up in bed with bandages wrapped around her arms. The sight was jarring; despite her burns, there was a spark in her eyes, a glimmer of her usual defiance. This was enough to lift his mood significantly.
"Well, look who decided to grace me with his presence," she quipped, a friendly smirk tugging at her lips.
"Hi, Helga," Arnold replied, forcing a smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I just wrestled a bear," she said, wincing slightly but maintaining a brave face. "But at least I'm not in any danger of dying, so I'll take it."
Arnold took a seat beside her bed, the familiar scent of antiseptic mixed with the warmth of her presence wrapping around him. "You scared us all, you know. What happened out there?"
Helga sighed, her expression shifting. "Honestly? It's all a blur. One minute I was in the chemistry lab, and the next, everything went to hell. I don't remember anything."
She furrowed her brow, struggling to recall the details. "But I do remember Phoebe mentioning you confessed your feelings for me at the party," she said playfully.
Heat rushed to Arnold's cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and regret flooding his system. "Uh, about that…" he stammered, grappling with the weight of his own lie. "I didn't mean it like that. It was just… complicated."
Helga looked at him, her expression softening. "Crimeny, Football Head. We were kids. We had our childhood crushes, but I was a bully, and that was no way to treat someone I cared for. You showed me kindness, and I'll always appreciate that. Hell, I'm so grateful our friendship taught me that I didn't have to be mean to deserve love… and that led me to true love. I'm happy with Erik now. But we're cool, right? As friends? That's what really matters."
Her words wrapped around him like a warm blanket, allowing him to release the pretense. "Yeah, friendship is good. I'm glad you're okay, Helga."
The conversation felt like a tether, anchoring him amidst the storm brewing outside. Just then, the door swung open, and Erik stepped in, followed closely by Olga and Helga's parents. The atmosphere shifted to one of concern and love as they rushed to Helga's bedside.
Arnold felt like an intruder, an outsider looking in on this intimate moment. "Hey, I should let you guys be," he said quietly, standing up to leave. He exchanged quick hugs with Helga, who gave him a reassuring nod. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Thanks, Shortman," Helga said, her voice brightening the room as he slipped out.
As Arnold made his way back through the corridor, he spotted Phoebe and Gerald still in a heated exchange. The air was thick with tension, and he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Before he could approach them, Phoebe stormed away, tears glistening in her eyes, heading toward Helga's room.
"Phoebe," Arnold called after her, but she didn't look up. Instead, they collided in the hallway. Her face was flushed, and for a moment, the world faded away.
"Arnold, please," she said, her voice breaking. "Just… don't. I can't talk to you right now."
"Wait, what's wrong?" he pressed, stepping closer, concern etched on his face.
"I can't… I can't trust you anymore," she stammered, her words cutting deeper than any physical blow. With that, she rushed past him, disappearing into Helga's room.
Arnold stood frozen, the weight of her words crashing down around him like a tidal wave. He was left alone in the hallway, feeling betrayal clawing at his insides. Gerald, who had stayed back, glared at him with unrestrained fury, his fists clenched at his sides.
"What did you tell Phoebe at the party?" Gerald's voice was low and laced with accusation.
So they were fighting about him.
"What?" Arnold replied defensively.
Gerald took a step closer, closing the distance, his anger palpable. "What's your game here, Arnold? Trying to make me look like the bad guy?"
Arnold shook his head, confusion swirling within him. "Gerald, just tell me what this is all about. You're not making sense. I thought—"
"Thought what?" Gerald interrupted, his tone dripping with contempt. "That you could act like the morality police and save everyone by making me look bad to Phoebe?"
"Look, man. I didn't do anything. You need to relax and tell me exactly what's wrong," Arnold stated, feeling the heat of the moment consume him. "I just—"
Gerald's expression darkened, rage boiling just below the surface. "I can't even look at you right now."
As Gerald stepped back, his fists trembled with suppressed anger. Arnold felt words dying in his throat as he grappled with the churning emotions inside him. He knew that when his friend got like this, nobody could reach him until he calmed down.
"Gerald, this is all a huge misunderstanding," Arnold pleaded.
"You've made it clear where your loyalties lie," Gerald spat, turning away from him. "I can't believe I trusted you."
With that, he stormed off, leaving Arnold standing alone, the world closing in around him. The sound of Gerald's footsteps echoed down the hall, a stark reminder of the friendship that now felt irreparably broken.
Arnold felt even more lost than before. It seemed like everyone was against him, and he had nobody to turn to at this point.
Well, everyone except Lila.
