Arnold followed the others into the bowling alley, instantly struck by the familiar clash of sounds: the thud of bowling balls striking pins, the electronic melodies from arcade machines, and the echo of laughter from scattered groups. Neon lights danced off the polished floors, casting a bluish hue over everything while the unmistakable scent of greasy pizza hung in the air. Rows of mismatched bowling shoes lined the counter, and in the distance, a triumphant cheer cut through the noise as someone scored a strike.
The atmosphere buzzed with energy, yet there was something oddly comforting about it. The worn-out plastic seats and colorful carpeting, though past their prime, made the place feel nostalgic, like a forgotten hangout that still drew people in.
Arnold couldn't help but marvel at how the day had unfolded—from planting seedlings in the morning to cheering at a softball game and now bowling—all with Helga at the center. It felt like the universe was nudging him.
Helga and Arnold found themselves seated together, watching their teammates take their turns. Amid the noise and excitement, it felt like they were in their own little world.
Helga shifted, detecting Phoebe's absence keenly but knowing it was inevitable. Their friendship was still strong, but she couldn't cling to Phoebe like she had in childhood. Then, Arnold's voice drew her out of her thoughts, and a warmth spread through her. Phoebe couldn't be replaced, but having Arnold beside her brought something new and special.
"So," Arnold began casually, though his eyes were curious, "do you all do this after every game?"
Helga shook her head. "Nah, only after the big wins. Why? Thinking of becoming a softball groupie, Football Head?"
Arnold chuckled and leaned in a little closer. "Maybe. The company's not bad."
Their eyes locked, and for a brief moment, the chaotic sounds of the alley faded away. Helga felt her face heat up and swiftly looked away.
"Yeah, well," she muttered, "don't get used to it. Can't have you distracting me at every game."
To her surprise, Arnold caught her faint words. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes twinkling. "So I'm a distraction now?" he teased, stroking his chin.
Helga mentally kicked herself. I need to learn to whisper better...
"What? I didn't—I mean, that's not what I..." She stammered, her cheeks growing warm as Arnold cocked a brow at her, clearly amused.
Her mind raced as she searched for a comeback, but her words failed her. Thankfully, her turn to bowl flashed on the screen. She stood abruptly, grasping at the excuse to escape the moment. "I'm up," she muttered, already heading to the lane.
Arnold watched as Helga approached the lane, her eyes narrowing in focus. She gripped the ball with steady hands, her movements precise and controlled. Something was captivating about the way she blocked out the noise and chaos around her. His gaze lingered on her determined expression, and for a moment, he forgot about the game itself.
His mind drifted back to the garden earlier—the peaceful way she'd worked with the plants, letting her tough shell slip away momentarily. Now, seeing her so focused and driven, he felt like he was witnessing something more than just the competitive Helga everyone knew.
As Helga picked up her ball, Maria nudged Sarah, motioning towards Arnold, who was still watching Helga with a soft smile.
"Did you see that?" Maria whispered, her eyes gleaming with amusement. She glanced at Helga with a knowing smirk, and though Helga couldn't hear them, the way their attention flickered between her and Arnold made her uneasy.
Sarah grinned between sips of soda. "Oh, I saw it. Those two are about as subtle as a home run."
"Ten bucks says Helga messes up this frame," Maria wagered. "She's too flustered."
Sure enough, Helga's release was off, and the ball veered straight into the gutter.
"Criminy!" she muttered, pacing in frustration as she waited for the ball to return.
Arnold was on his feet, offering a sympathetic smile. "Hey, it happens to the best of us. You've got this, Helga."
Maria and Sarah exchanged amused expressions at his supportive tone.
"Look at him, all encouraging," Sarah whispered.
"And look at her, pretending she's not loving it," Maria added with a smirk.
Helga's frustration wavered at Arnold's words. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, though the usual bite was missing from her tone. His support caught her off guard, and for a moment, she felt her walls start to lower. Come on, Helga, don't let him get to you—he's right. It happens to the best of us. Her body trembled with nerves for a second, knowing that all eyes were on her. She took a slow, steady breath, letting the tension drain from her shoulders. With a scowl creeping back, she reclaimed her competitive edge. "Watch and learn, Arnoldo."
This time, she knocked down all ten pins, earning cheers from her teammates. But it was Arnold's approving smile that made her stomach flip.
As she returned to her seat, Maria elbowed her playfully. "Nice recovery, captain. I wonder what inspired that comeback?"
Helga rolled her eyes, her cheeks warming. "Can it, Maria. I was just… focused."
"Oh, I'm sure," Sarah teased, moving her eyes to Arnold.
Helga shot them both a look, but there was no heat behind it. "Don't you two have bowling to do?"
Once the girls were preoccupied, Arnold leaned closer to Helga. "Is everything okay?"
His voice, so near, made Helga flinch slightly, but her face lightened up. "Yeah, Football Head. Everything's fine." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her teammates snickering. Her defenses rose. "You know what? Let's make a game of this."
"A game?" Maria asked, intrigued.
"Yeah, a game," Helga declared. "Losers buy pizza."
Arnold's eyes lit up with interest. "Sounds fun. How do you want to split the teams?"
Helga assessed the group. "How about girls versus boys? Oh, wait." She grinned, locking eyes with Arnold. "I guess that makes you a team of one."
Sarah chimed in, "That doesn't seem fair. Why don't we mix it up?"
"Fine," Helga conceded, trying to hide her excitement. "We'll do it old-school. Maria and I will pick teams."
Maria grinned. "You're on, Pataki. First pick!"
Helga interlaced her fingers behind her back, hoping Arnold wouldn't get chosen. When Maria picked Sarah, she felt a rush of relief.
Feigning indifference, she turned to Arnold. "I'll take Football Head. Someone's gotta give him a chance to redeem himself."
Arnold raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. "Gee, thanks. I'll try not to let you down."
As the game went on, Arnold couldn't stop stealing squints at Helga. Something about her tonight—her natural confidence, her ability to rally the team—made him feel proud to be here with her. But pride wasn't all he felt. Each time she laughed or shot him a teasing look, it triggered a flood of adrenaline. It wasn't just admiration anymore. But could he really be feeling this way about Helga? Maybe he was overthinking it, projecting emotions that weren't there. Still, the thought replayed—something about her had changed. Or perhaps it was him.
And every time she smiled, even in competition, his body temperature heated up. When Helga finished picking her team, Arnold stood with a small smile by her side, feeling good about being chosen.
"Alright, team," Helga announced, her competitive spirit rising. "Let's show these amateurs how it's done. Arnold, you're up first. Try not to embarrass us, okay?"
Arnold strolled up to take his turn, feeling Helga's eyes on him. As he lined up his shot, he couldn't shake the thought that maybe this was the start of something new between them. But then again, could Arnold be reading too much into it? It was Helga, after all—someone he'd known forever, someone who never quite fit the boyhood mold of what he'd imagined for himself. Yet, here he was, losing his breath every time their eyes met. Was it just the heat of the moment? Or had something changed between them?
Helga strode up to take her turn, and Arnold found his eyes drawn to her. She looked intensely concentrated, and her brow furrowed as she lined up her shot. Arnold couldn't help but smile.
It's different when she's focused like this, he thought. She's not trying to be anything else. She's just... Helga. And it's kind of beautiful.
He watched her release the ball with perfect form. As the ball rolled down the lane, Arnold realized he was holding his breath. When Helga turned back to the group, a triumphant grin on her face when all the pins tumbled over, Arnold mused, I've never seen her smile like that before.
"Sarah, you're up!" Her ears perked, but Sarah stared at her phone, her expression sullen. Realizing it was her turn, she went up to take it. Sarah rolled the ball with little effort, which isn't like her. She knocked down only a few pins and plopped on the chair, staring at her phone.
Helga and Arnold exchange a look.
And then Helga slowly walked over to her brunette teammate, who wouldn't meet her eyes. "Alright, spill it. What's going on with you?"
She stared down, not responding at first. "It's... it's nothing. Just some family stuff." Her voice was hollow like she was trying to minimize something much bigger.
Helga frowned, sensing something more. "Come on, we're teammates. You can trust me." There was a quiet force behind her words, a modest push for Sarah to open up.
Sarah exhaled, puffing her cheeks. "My parents are fighting again," she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She glanced up at Helga, her eyes shiny. "They're talking about splitting up. It's been going on for months, but now... it's different. They're serious this time." Her hands fidgeted with the edge of her jacket like she was trying to hold herself together.
Helga's face softened. "That sucks, Sarah. I'm really sorry." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "You know... if you ever need to talk, I've been through a lot of that kind of stuff myself."
Helga's hand trembled as she raised it, hovering just above Sarah's shoulder. For a brief moment, she paused, unsure if this was the right thing to do—comfort didn't come naturally to her, and vulnerability had always been her enemy. But Sarah's hunched posture, the way she seemed so small and fragile in that instant, stirred something in Helga. Slowly, she let her hand settle on Sarah's shoulder, the contact light but steady.
Sarah looked up at the touch, her tear-streaked face softening. A small, almost uncertain smile broke through her sadness, and Helga felt an unfamiliar warmth in her chest. "Thanks," She whispered, her voice cracking but sincere.
They didn't need to say much more. For the next few minutes, they spoke quietly, the conversation flowing naturally. As they talked, Helga realized something—she didn't have to be invulnerable all the time. Sometimes, being there, in moments like this, was enough.
Arnold watched from his seat at Helga, consoling her. Sarah leaned into her, seeming to trust Helga. Arnold found himself admiring the way Helga seamlessly shifted from caustic and tough to caring and thoughtful. She knew exactly when to drop the walls she kept up.
There was a side of Helga emerging tonight that Arnold couldn't ignore. Had she always been like this—caring, thoughtful, able to read people?
He found himself thinking back to all the moments he had dismissed her biting humor, never realizing that it was often just a mask for something much deeper.
How does she do that? He wondered. One minute, she's making a joke at my expense, and the next, she's helping someone open up like it's the most natural thing in the world...
Then, the two came to their feet, and Helga signaled for everyone to resume the game.
Later, after Helga's team's victory, Arnold approached Sarah. "Hey, I couldn't help noticing you seem a bit down. Is everything okay?"
Sarah, not knowing Arnold well, was surprised by his concern. "Oh... yeah. Just some stuff at home. But Helga's been really supportive, actually."
Arnold looked over at Helga, who was gloating in victory as Maria bought pizza, and smiled. "That's Helga for you. She cares more than she lets on."
Have I been blindfolded this whole time? Arnold slowly realized that Helga held a tenderness to her hidden beneath layers of shields she'd built up over the years. The more he saw it, the more he admired it.
Unlike in prior relationships with Helga, nothing was polished or for show. It was messy, unpredictable, and utterly real. And for the first time, he found himself wanting more of that. Maybe he hadn't been looking for the right things before. But now… now he wasn't sure if he could stop seeing them.
Helga said goodbye to her teammates, focusing on Sarah more. Arnold came by her side, and she spoke without thinking first. "I just hope she's okay. Family stuff can be rough." The words slipped out before Helga could stop them. Her eyes enlarged slightly in realization, and she bit her lip, mentally kicking herself. She wasn't supposed to say that. Not to him. Not to anyone.
Arnold looked at her, his regard soft and understanding, and Helga felt that familiar flush creep up her neck. Why did it always have to be around him that her protective covers slipped? She could feel her defenses rising. "Forget it, Football Head," she muttered, turning her face away. "I didn't mean to say anything. Just… don't go spreading it around, okay?"
"It's okay. Sarah told me she had stuff going on at home, and I won't tell anyone about it." Arnold gave Helga a half-grin when she faced him. "It was really nice of you to talk to her. You're not just a good teammate. You're a good friend, Helga."
Helga turned her face partially away due to her blushing. "Yeah, well... don't go spreading that around either. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."
"Of course," Arnold replied simply. "It'll stay between you and me."
The night came to a close, and Helga found herself wishing it could last a little longer. Walking out of the bowling alley, she fell into step beside Arnold.
"So, Football Head," she said, her tone casual but her eyes avoiding his, a small smile playing on her lips. "I guess this wasn't a total disaster; you didn't make us lose."
Arnold smiled while looking around at the lanes where they just were and back at Helga, enjoying the moment. "I had a great time, Helga. Thanks for letting me tag along."
"Well," Helga replied, a hint of softness in her voice, "I suppose you're not the worst company in the world."
Arnold blushed, slowly taking in her sarcastic quips as more flirtation than insults now. "You're not so bad yourself, Helga." He made a head gesture toward the parking lot. "Let me drive you home."
Helga and Arnold quietly walked side by side, both their eyes on their feet. Nearing the car, Helga was too busy focusing on her inner musings when she slipped on an uneven part of the pavement. Arnold instinctively reached out to steady her, catching her by the waist. They found themselves suddenly very close, faces inches apart. Both froze, caught off guard by the proximity. At the last second, Helga nervously laughed it off and stepped back, breaking the moment. Arnold helped to steady her, releasing a few awkward chuckles himself.
During the drive, there was a charged silence between them. They stole side-eyes at each other while the radio played a soft, romantic song in the background.
The streetlights cast a soft glow on her profile, and he was struck by how different she looked.
He realized immediately that this felt purely unique. Being around Helga now felt like peeling back layers of something familiar yet entirely unexpected.
He thought back to their time in the garden, to the concert, to tonight's game and bowling. Each memory brought a smile to his face.
Arnold looked at her again, watching as she absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Hey," he said softly, "you okay? You seem a bit quiet."
Helga sighed, her gaze fixed on the passing streetlights. "Just thinking about Sarah, I guess. Family stuff can be... complicated." She said so low that Arnold almost didn't hear her. Why did I say that? I never talk about this stuff.
Arnold nodded, sensing there was more to it. "Yeah, it must be tough for her. You were great with her back there, you know?"
Helga shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It's not a big deal. I just... I know what it's like, that's all."
Arnold's brow furrowed narrowly. "What do you mean?"
Helga hesitated, then spoke calmly. "Let's just say the Pataki household isn't always sunshine and rainbows, Football Head. Sometimes, it helps to have someone who gets it."
Arnold was silent for a moment, processing this peek into Helga's home life. "I'm sorry, Helga. I didn't realize..."
"Hey, don't go getting all mushy on me," Helga interjected, but her tone was gentle. "It is what it is. But maybe... I can help Sarah navigate it a bit better than I did." Her eyes darted longingly out of the window like she was looking back at her younger self.
Arnold smiled softly. "From what I saw, I think you already are, Helga."
Helga rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.
They arrived at Helga's house, and this time, Arnold walked her to the door. They paused on the porch, neither wanting the night to end.
Arnold leaned on her door, his eyes focused on her face. "Uh, good going on your game again, and thanks for including me in your celebration."
Helga's eyes remained on his shoes, and she felt and appeared unusually shy. "Thanks. I'm glad you came with us; it was fun." She allowed herself to say genuinely.
"Yeah, it definitely was." His tone was silky, almost a whisper that put Helga into a trance.
There was a moment of silence, both of them shifting slightly, reluctant to say goodnight.
Arnold cleared his throat. "You know, Helga, I've been thinking..."
Helga's heart pace picked up. "Oh? That's dangerous, Football Head."
Arnold chuckled nervously. "Yeah, maybe. But... don't you think things have been different between us lately?"
Helga's breath caught in her throat. "Different? What do you mean?"
"I don't know, just... we've been spending more time together and... It's nice." Arnold rubbed the back of his neck, a telltale sign of his nervousness.
Helga nodded slowly, her usual retorts failing her. "Yeah, I guess it is."
Arnold's face scrunched a little as he studied her, a mix of curiosity and something deeper flickering in his eyes. He shifted his weight slightly, unsure if he should voice what was on his mind. "You've been thinking this for a while now, just say it." His gaze softened as he glanced at her again, noticing the way the evening light hit her features with her empathetic side shining through.
"I feel like I'm seeing a different side of you," he finally said, his voice soft. "Or maybe it was always there, and I just never noticed before."
Helga's chest constricted, her heart pounding now.
"Arnold, I..."
Arnold knew he was witnessing her in rare form—unguarded and tender. Every defense she usually held up seemed to slip away under the soft glow of the porch light.
Helga finally lifted her chin, and Arnold's hand moved almost instinctively. He reached out, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The warmth of his fingers lingered on her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Helga's breath hitched, and a booming in her chest. Why does he always make me feel like this? I'm not supposed to care…but doggonit, I do.
Their eyes locked, and the air between them thickened, charged with unspoken emotions. The world around them faded away, leaving only the soft glow of the porch light, which seemed to make Helga's features even more striking. Arnold felt a pull he couldn't resist—something magnetic in the way her lips parted slightly, her breath shallow.
They both leaned in, slow and tentative, as though any sudden movement would shatter the moment. Helga could feel the warmth radiating from his hand, still lingering near her face, and the closeness of his breath. Arnold's fingertips brushed the edge of her jaw, his touch so light, yet it sent a wave of heat through her.
Their eyes fluttered shut, the anticipation building as their faces inched closer. Arnold could feel the softness of her skin, and the faint scent of her shampoo filled the small space between them. Helga's pulse raced, her chest rising and falling in sync with his. Her body now had a mind of its own.
But just as their lips were about to meet, a sudden blare of a car horn shattered the moment. Both of them jolted back, flustered and wide-eyed. Arnold grasped the space between his eyebrows, embarrassed by how close they'd come, while Helga clenched her jaw, trying to calm her galloping heart.
They both opened their mouths to say something, but the words got tangled in the awkwardness of the moment.
"Um, bye, Arnold."
"Goodnight, Helga." They both said in hasty manners, eyes locked on the ground.
Helga went inside, inclining against the closed door, feeling a mix of frustration and joy. She touched her face where his fingers had been her mouth hanging open. What the heck just happened?
Arnold hesitated on the stairs, a lingering sense of disappointment clouding his thoughts as he turned to look back at Helga's door one last time. His eyes shut, feeling some frustration. He walked back to his car in a daze, stealing one last glance at Helga's house before driving away.
When Helga ran up to her room, she replayed the almost-kiss in her mind, wondering what it meant for their connection.
On the drive home, his thoughts were consumed by Helga—their typical banter and disagreements in the past, the recent serene moments they've shared, the warmth of her eyes. It was amazing but overwhelming. No one had ever made him feel this way—unsure, excited, and drawn in all at once. His hand twitched on the steering wheel, tempted to turn back, but something held him in place, a fear of crossing a line they couldn't uncross.
Both Helga and Arnold knew that whatever had been building between them wasn't fleeting—it was undeniable and no longer something they could ignore.