A/N: Thank you for all the support!

Chapter 10: Picking up the Pieces

Saturday night Helga had left the loud music and bright lights for the dark city streets. It was bitter cold, and that seemed appropriate, although Helga didn't feel it much. She didn't really think about where she was going so she simply followed her feet. They led her to the bus stop, where she caught the night bus, and rode it back to East Hillwood. She'd sat in the back of the bus on the old seats and stared out the dark window without seeing. The whole way she had felt the same strange numbness as she had at the dance. Perhaps she was in shock. She made it home a little after midnight, and about fifteen minutes after that Moze knocked on the door. She, with surprising calm, assured him she was fine and, thankfully, he didn't stay long.

Sunday she just went throughout the day as though nothing was different. She watched TV and read a couple magazines and opened the fridge and stared inside it. The stupor was shattered, however, when her phone rang that night. She glanced at it, expecting it to be Phoebe or Agatha or someone, but nearly dropped it when she saw it was Arnold. She let it ring, not daring to answer, but she did listen to the brief apology message that he left her.

She didn't know what he was sorry about—she'd been the one to blow up. She figured that was Arnold just being Arnold. But the numbness that had settled over her dissipated at the recording of his voice. The reality of what had happened smacked her in the face like a wet fish, so hard she ended up face down on her bed, screaming into her pillow. She prayed to the gods of puberty to please just let her die, because she really couldn't handle awkward teenage life any longer. Actually, this was beyond awkward. This was horrifically heinous and bloodcurdling. She might literally explode from the humiliation.

But the embarrassment, if at all possible, was just the surface. That wasn't really what was killing her. She did still feel the small sense of relief at having finally let go of her great secret, of setting it free, but what over powered it was the last look she had seen on Arnold's face. He'd just stared at her with wide eyes, like he had been afraid of her, and she knew that she had just destroyed any chance of a normal friendship with him. That face, quite literally, haunted her.

Monday, she flat out skipped school and lounged around in pajamas. She stole Miriam's secret stash of chocolate from her parents' bedroom while both were gone, and ate all of it while watching Dawn of the Dead. Miriam came home from yoga and felt her forehead, and then made chicken noodle soup from the can. Big Bob came home in the evening, took one look at his "sick" daughter, and then avoided her the rest of the evening, like she might give him leprosy, while his wife sprayed the air with Lysol. Helga ignored both of them.

Tuesday essentially was the same. The only difference was, Helga began to feel...guilty. After all her bellyaching about not regressing back to a childish sociopath, was that what she was doing? There she sat, eating TV tray dinners with her parents and watching Duck Dynasty, and feeling like she was not where she was supposed to be. She left the couch and went into her room, barely getting past the doorway before flopping on the floor and rethinking her life choices thus far.

What had happened to New Helga? What had happened to "I am Woman"? What had happened to "even if he doesn't love me back, it's ok to be in love"? What was she doing, hiding away in her house, not showering for three days, and eating junk food? Was she really gonna bottom out like every other stupid teenage girl who accidentally embarrassed herself in front of a guy? How much more pathetic could she get?

As she lay on the floor her phone started ringing. She yanked on the charger chord, pulling it down from her dresser, and looked at it, again expecting another text or call from Phoebe or Agatha, who had both been trying to get a hold of her. It was Arnold. What was he calling for? She set the phone on the ground in front of her and waited for it to stop ringing. When it did, she sighed, and she wasn't sure if it was relief or disappointment. Then, the phone buzzed again. She stared at it with a furrowed brow but again let it ring. Maybe if she stared long enough, the caller ID would change from Arnold to someone else. It didn't. He was probably calling to apologize again for something he didn't do, or ask if she was really sick, or say "it's not you, it's me". After a minute, it stopped ringing, but every once in a while throughout the night it rang again. Five times. He called her five times in a matter of just a couple hours. Not that she was counting.

By the time Helga was crawling into bed, she had come to a conclusion: she couldn't live her life running from Arnold. Maybe he was calling to say "it's not you, it's me" but she would have to face it like an adult. She couldn't be a child, just because she was afraid of rejection. She couldn't take back her love and pretend it never happened—not this time. This had to be her turning point, her mouse-or-man point. Hadn't Arnold always told her to not hide who she was and to be herself and junk like that? Well, dang it all, maybe that's what she'd do.

Ever since Saturday, Arnold had been unsure what to think. Helga's outburst had surprised him—he'd thought she liked him, but to what extent, he had no idea. Evidently, her feelings were much stronger and different than he'd first guessed. Afterwards, Helga had completely disappeared from the dance. Arnold had searched through the crowd, checked the girls bathroom, and everywhere else Helga could have been hiding, but didn't find her. He ran into Moze, Phoebe, and Helga's other friends once in a while but their luck in finding her wasn't any better than his. Moze eventually gave up and deduced that she must have gone home. He left the dance, planning to go to Helga's house to make sure she'd at least made it safely.

Arnold spent all of Saturday night and most of Sunday trying to digest everything that had happened. There were a lot of things to think about—Helga loved him. She didn't just like like him, she really really loved him. And she'd been in love with him for years. And all that stuff she'd said about following him around and messing with his head and collecting his old gum...that was all a little freaky to think about. He tried to think back to their childhood and decipher which of their interactions had happened because she had been in love with him. He'd always thought she was different than she seemed, not so rough and tough, but how had he never noticed how different? He felt like an idiot for not knowing all this time how she felt. Which brought him to his next problem: he liked her a lot, yes, but after her little confession he felt that her feelings ran much deeper than his. He didn't know how to respond to her. Did he love her? It seemed lame, calling it that, after thinking about how long Helga had loved him—as if he didn't have the right to call his feelings love when compared to hers.

And on top of all this, he knew he had completely humiliated her in front of half the school. He'd lost control as he'd egged her on, trying to get her to admit that she liked him. The result was more than he had bargained for, and it made him feel like a total jerk. It had been really poor planning on his part; he should have waited until they were alone, until she wasn't on a date, until they weren't at a public function. It was his fault that she had been embarrassed, and that Moze had been embarrassed, and every time someone at school came up to him and said, "Hey, weren't you the guy that that crazy chick went all psycho on at the dance? Yikes, am I right, man?" it was like a blow to the stomach. It was because of him that Helga's feelings were being poked fun at, and he felt downright awful about the whole thing.

Sunday afternoon he supposed he'd digested enough, because suddenly his phone was in his hand and he was dialing Helga's number. He wasn't sure what to say, but he felt like he should call. It was no surprise when she didn't answer. He left a message, something like, "Hey, Helga, it's Arnold, uh, sorry, you know, about everything. I understand if you don't want to talk right now, so, um. Yeah. Bye."

On Monday, Helga hadn't been at school. Which, of course, he felt was his fault. She was probably avoiding him, and didn't want to subject herself to the mockery of fellow students. He thought maybe this was for the best. Perhaps another day of recovery might help her, and honestly him. He had no idea what he was going to do when he saw her. Which was why, after school, he wondered what on earth he was doing sitting in the Packard, driving to her house. He barely made it to the end of his block before turning back. He sat in the car for an hour, trying to sort out what was going on in his head. Eventually Phil found him, climbed in on the passenger's side, and asked him why he looked like he'd just got run over by a bus. Arnold spilled the entire story, from finding out he liked Helga to making her confess, and at the end, his grandfather threw his head back and laughed so hard he was in tears. Cheeks red, Arnold had gotten out of the car, slammed the door, and headed back inside. Phil had found him in his room later and told him, "Sometimes, Shortman, everything has to fall apart before you can put it back together. And when you do, you can put it back so it's even better than it was the first time. Are you gonna finish that sandwich?"

Tuesday, Helga still wasn't at school. Gerald said, "Maybe she really is out sick," and Phoebe added, "I'm certain she'll be back soon." Arnold's overactive imagination was against him, as it usually was, and filled his head with a million doubts. What if she never came back? What if she was so embarrassed she transferred to another school? What if her mortification and his awful behavior made her start hating him and he never got the chance to explain? And, biggest of all, how would he feel if any of these happened? These questions floated around his head enough that he had a hard time focusing at basketball practice. Beezus was in a tizzy since they had a game that weekend, and he yelled at everyone (especially Arnold), getting himself so upset that he popped a blood vessel in his neck and had to go to the clinic. He'd left Itchy and Moze in charge of the J.V. team, and Arnold, who had been benched, had found himself in an uncomfortably close proximity to Moze. Moze hadn't said anything, but Arnold could tell he was mad. The senior didn't make eye contact with him and had given him the cold shoulder the last two days. Sitting close by him then, Arnold cleared his throat and said, "Moze, I'm sorry about Saturday. Things got a little out of hand, and it was my fault. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. I hope you're not mad at Helga."

Moze gave him a cool look before turning back towards the boys on the court. "I'm not mad at Helga. She said she was sorry when I saw her after the dance. We made up and made out. Guess she's my girlfriend, now." For about ten agonizingly long seconds, Arnold had thought he was serious. Then Moze shot him a sarcastic look over his shoulder. "Just messing with you. We're not going out."

Arnold hadn't been sure if he was angry or relieved, but either way he guessed he had deserved the ribbing.

Moze then continued, "Don't worry, I didn't have my sights set on Helga, or anything. We were friends, and I thought she was kinda cute. I think I mostly just had my ego bruised a bit—I've never had a girl confess to another guy while I was on a date with her before. And in front of a bunch of people...Nothing to do about it now, I guess. I had a feeling you guys liked each other, anyway. You have some major issues to work through, though, dude."

He didn't have to tell Arnold that. He was well aware. "If I can make it up to you, Moze, just say so."

"Fantastic," Moze had given him a friendly smack on the cheek, "Start with twenty laps. You're playing today was horrible, you need to get back into shape." Arnold did as he was told, but apparently not fast enough, 'cause halfway through Moze told him to hurry up and run an extra five. Moze would probably be picking on him a bit the rest of the week, out of revenge, but Arnold felt he had no room to complain. Besides, he felt like he owed Moze. In the brief seconds that Arnold had thought Moze and Helga had become a couple, his stomach had become so nauseous that he knew right then exactly how he felt about Helga. He had looked at all the ins and outs of Helga being crazy and kind of scary in love with him and her angry confession and how he'd been a total jerk and how they always fought and what everyone might think and came to the conclusion that the only thing he really knew was that he wanted to see her. And say what, he still wasn't sure, but that didn't matter. He called her Tuesday night (like five times) and told himself if she wasn't back in class the next day, then he'd head straight to her house after school.

Wednesday morning he sat behind Gerald in their first class, bouncing his eraser on the desk in time to the ticking clock. He looked out the window at the rather sunny Halloween day and ignored the teacher's boring retelling of the Donner Party. She was just starting to put the front row to sleep when Gerald spun around in his seat. "Arnold, brace yourself—Helga's back in school today."

Arnold blinked at him. "If you're lying to me, I will hit you."

"I'm not lying, look," He showed his phone to Arnold. It was a text from Teri that read: Pataki's back today. "I told him to give me a heads up when she came back. So? What's the plan, Stan my man?"

"No plan. This time, I'm shooting straight. "

Helga had planned to go back to school and accept her fate with grace and poise. She'd gotten on the morning bus, nodded at Moze in a brisk but friendly manner, and made her way to the back of the bus, where Lenny said, "Hey, hey, if it isn't the little love bird herself! Are you finally over your love sickness?"

Teri added, "Were you sick because the love bug bit you?"

She smacked them both upside the head. Agatha just stared at Helga before saying, "So you..."

Helga swallowed. All right, first test. Here goes. "Like Arnold?" She finished. Agatha nodded, and Helga said, "Yes. Yes, I do." Agatha nodded again and didn't ask more, and Helga thought, Oh, yeah, I'm awesome. I totally admitted it.

School was fine, although she was in constant fear of running into Arnold. Every time a blond boy crossed paths with her she jumped, and Brainy stood too close and freaked her out so bad she accidentally elbowed him in the nose and knocked him back into a squad of freshmen cheerleaders.

Grace and poise?

Nailed it.

Second period was tense as she sat in between Agatha and Phoebe. A couple kids in the corner were whispering, and she was dying to know if they were talking about her. Phoebe, whom she could tell was dying to talk about it but was trying to hold back, said reassuringly, "Don't worry, Helga. Actually, there aren't a whole lot of people talking about you—most everyone is distracted by what happened with Rhonda."

Helga had left the dance early, so as Phoebe told her about the spectacle Rhonda and Curly and their pals had made, she snickered. This made Helga feel better; she'd have to remember to thank them for making even bigger fools of themselves than she had of herself. Walking through the halls after that, she felt a little less paranoid. Now when she saw people talking in low voices, she imagined they were probably talking about Rhonda and Curly, rather than her. Well, until she ran into Rhonda herself, that is. Helga was digging in her locker, Agatha standing by her, when Rhonda passed by with Nadine on their way to lunch.

She grinned when she saw Rhonda's black eye. "Nice shiner, princess. Was kissing the little weirdo worth it?"

"Hmph." Rhonda flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I believe that's none of your concern."

"Right, right."

"Well, Helga. I heard you had plenty of excitement at the dance yourself."

"Oh, yeah, oodles."

"I simply must ask—you like Arnold? Surely you must be joking."

She crossed her arms. "It's a free country. I can like who I want."

Rhonda's eyes widened a little. "So, it is true! I thought I had been misinformed."

Nadine said, "I told you." She looked at Helga. "I thought it was very brave of you, Helga."

"Certainly," Rhonda agreed. "Few girls would confess that way. I would have died from the embarrassment!"

Helga's eye twitched. "Right, thanks."

"I never would have guessed it was Arnold you liked, would you, Nadine?"

Nadine shrugged, her dragonfly earrings flashing. "I don't think it's that strange. Arnold is very nice."

Nadine. Bless.

Rhonda said, "Well, of course, Nadine, but I simply meant it's strange that Helga likes him. I mean, after so many years of torture it just seems so out of place."

"Torture?" Agatha asked.

"That's right, I suppose anyone who didn't go to P.S. 118 wouldn't know. You see, Helga used to abuse Arnold."

Agatha's eyebrows knitted together. "Abuse?" She looked up at Helga, who looked away.

"Exactly. Physically, verbally, emotionally. She was really quite awful to him, always picking on him and bullying him, and she never passed up a chance to publicly humiliate him—"

"Ok," Helga cut her off, cheeks pink, "I think she gets the picture. I wasn't always as kind hearted as I am now."

"Which is why the rest of us are all a bit shocked at the sudden change in heart."

Sid and Stinky wandered by then, a girl under Stinky's arm.

"Well, if it isn't the ladies of the hour!" Sid said to them.

"Aw, Rhonda, yer eye's not so puffy today." Stinky said. "Shame. I brought my camera." Rhonda scoffed.

Sid turned to Helga, elbowing her. "So, Helga. You love Arnold, huh?"

Helga swallowed. These people were much harder to talk to than anyone else—they knew her whole history, and she was battling the urge to simply tell all of them off and stomp away angrily. She told herself, Ok, just be you. Don't freak out, don't lie, and don't hit anyone. "Yeah, I like Arnold. What of it?"

"Boy howdy, I can't believe it! Man, I never thought our plan would work so well."

"Plan?" Helga said.

Stinky said, "See, Arnold thought you hated him, so a couple weeks ago we all decided to make you like him by puttin' up posters and basketball 'n stuff."

"Don't be ridiculous," Rhonda said, "Helga said she'd liked Arnold for a long time. This hardly has anything to do with basketball."

"I dunno, Rhonda, nothing quite says 'I love you' like the swish of the hoop when you make a basket. Music for the soul." Stinky said, and the girl under his arm agreed.

"Wait, what plan?" Helga said.

Sid ignored her, "Yeah, I forgot she said she'd liked him for a long time...isn't that the weirdest part of it?"

Helga rubbed her arm. "It's not that weird."

"Are you kiddin', Helga?" Stinky said. "It's downright zoinky!"

"Zoinky?" Agatha said.

"That's exactly what we were just saying," Rhonda said.

"That's what you were saying," Nadine pointed out.

"Oh!" Said the girl with Stinky, "Is this the girl that likes Arnold?" She looked Helga up and down and Helga felt uncomfortable.

Sid said, "Yeah, who would have thought, right? Ol' heartless Helga, breaking faces on the playground..."

Stinky finished, "All the while her heart was breaking. Makes you kind of misty eyed, don't it?"

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Please, don't be so dramatic. She's not such a bully now, anyway, so it's different."

"Dramatic?" Sid said. "It's true, isn't it? I mean, Helga used to be so cranky all the time and most of us were more scared of her than not, but all this time she had a soft spot for Arnold. Heh, it just makes it all the more freaky! Gosh, you should have seen how surprised Arnold was when she told him." He made an impression of it Arnold's face. "Ha ha, and in front of everyone. You must be pretty embarrassed, Helga!" He elbowed Helga again, jovially.

Helga wrapped a slow arm around Sid's shoulder. She held up her fist in front of him. "Sid, you remember Old Betsy, right?"

He went cross eyed looking at it. "Yeah..."

"Good." She stared him down. "You know, I can still break faces."

Sid swallowed. "Yep. I got it."

Someone behind her pulled Sid away from her grasp and pushed him aside. Sid sighed with relief. Helga blinked at Arnold, who joined the circle with Gerald and Phoebe.

"Well, if it ain't the corn haired man himself!" Stinky said.

"Hey, guys," Arnold greeted. He looked at Helga brightly. It was a little blinding, actually. "Glad you're back in school. Feeling better?"

"Huh? Oh, right. I was sick. Yeah, peachy."

"Good." He smiled at her and she gave him a wary look.

Almost simultaneously, Lenny and Curly both approached from opposite direction.

Lenny said excitedly, "Dudes, they have cupcakes in the cafeteria today for Halloween! Cupcakes! With worms!"

"Really?" Sid perked up.

"I kid you not, my man."

Curly came up on the other side, "Good afternoon, my cream puff! How are you today?"

Rhonda rolled her eyes, "Ugh, I'm not your cream puff."

"Don't be shy, darling. I heard you broke up with Harold for me..." He leaned towards her, wiggling his eyebrows.

Rhonda stepped back. "I did break up with him, but not for you. Come on, Nadine."

Curly followed after them. "Oh, cream puff, there's no need to hide!"

Gerald shook his head; "I dunno if I'm more sorry for Harold, or Rhonda."

"Most definitely Rhonda," Phoebe said.

Lenny was bouncing anxiously. "Come on, let's go, or they'll all be gone!"

"Dudes, we have to hurry. We have to get cupcakes—there is no other option." Sid nodded.

"You guys go ahead," Arnold said, still watching Helga. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Helga?"

Actually, that sounded like a horrible idea. She really felt like racing Lenny and Sid for cupcakes, but she was currently trying to be an adult, so she supposed she had to stay and take whatever Arnold had to say like a woman. "I guess."

Everyone else looked back and forth between them. "All righty then," Gerald said at last, taking Phoebe's hand. "Great, so, you guys do your thang and meet up with us, ok? Ok." He passed by, patting Arnold on the shoulder.

The rest of the group moved away, Lenny singing a little song about gummy worms. Stinky said absently, "Did you know that Helga was my first love?" Everyone turned to him.

"She what now?" Gerald said.

"Yep, she plum broke my poor adolescent heart. I hope Arnold's not too hard on her."

"I don't think you have to worry," Phoebe said.

"It's like I don't even know you!" Sid exclaimed, looking at Stinky.

Helga watched them all go with despair. By now the hall had emptied of everyone else, and Helga and Arnold were the only two left. She swallowed. Maybe she wasn't a man, maybe she was just a mouse. But he didn't look threatening. He looked...chipper. Well, fantastic. At least when she was being rejected, it'd be done with a smile. "So?" She said, crossing her arms. "You want to talk?"

He watched her for a second. "Are you mad at me?"

Well, that was pretty much the last thing she'd been expecting to come out of his mouth. "Uh, no...Why would I be mad at you?"

"For goading you into telling me how you felt in front of everyone. That was my fault, and I'm really sorry about it." He looked completely sincere, which confused her.

"How was that your fault?"

He sighed. "Well, I did it on purpose so I could get you to say what you really felt." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked bashful. "I thought you might like me, and I wanted to know how you felt because...well, I like you. I like you, like you."

She blinked at him. "No you don't."

He smiled a little. "Yeah. I do. Again, I'm sorry about Saturday. I really didn't mean for all that to happen. I was mad and jealous and I got carried away. But I'm sorry, and if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just say so."

"Knock it off."

"Ok. Wait, knock what off?"

"This. It's not funny, Arnold."

"I'm not trying to be funny. I'm being totally serious." He did look serious. "I like you."

She wasn't processing what he was saying. It was like his words were bouncing off of her and she was trying very hard to grasp onto them, but they eluded her. "You don't like me."

"I do."

"You only think you do. Are you sick?"

He chuckled. "No, I'm not sick. I really do like you. A lot." His face seemed a little red. "So, I thought, maybe you and I could go out sometime?"

This conversation was not happening. Literally, in Helga's brain, it was not happening. Arnold didn't like her. No, he didn't. She shook her head, trying to get rid of all of her thoughts that were running amok. "No, I don't think so." She turned, walking towards the cafeteria, trying to think clearly.

Arnold raised his eyebrows and followed. "No? You are mad, I knew it. I'm really, really sorry—"

"I'm not mad."

"Then what's the matter?"

"I'm not going to go out with you."

"Why not? You like me, right?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm a man not a mouse, but I don't want your charity and million-thousand apology phone calls."

"Charity? You're not listening to me, Helga! I'm telling you that I want to go out with you, and I'm serious. I really do."

"Well, don't worry, I'm sure you'll get over it. You'll be over me in a giffy."

"Hold on, let me get this straight—you're in love with me, but you're rejecting me? Why?"

Rejecting him? Was that what was happening? That couldn't be; wasn't she the one who was supposed to be being rejected? He must be confused. She sure as heck was. "You don't want to go out with me."

"Yes, I do. Have I ever done or said anything to make you think I don't? How many times do you need me to say it? I really like you."

"Say it as many times as you like, it doesn't mean anything."

Arnold rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Why are you so close-minded sometimes? You only ever hear what you want to hear! I like you, it's simple! Why is this such a hard concept to understand?"

"Ok, fine, you like me! Which proves you're probably dumber than I thought!"

"What! Why are you doing this to yourself?" He grabbed her hand to stop her walking. "Stop being stupid!"

"You stop being stupid! This is the stupidest conversation I've ever had!" She broke out of his grip and stalked away, feeling a headache coming on. This time, he didn't follow.

What, what, what, what...

What?

She walked down the hall, feeling like she'd just been through a tornado and then spat out again. She needed to process what had just happened, but she didn't know where to start. She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes, feeling like her brain was whirring around so fast steam might start coming out her ears. Then it would probably explode. She should have stayed home, in bed.

She somehow reached the cafeteria, then wondered why she'd bother going there at all. She didn't feel like talking to anyone. She stood in the doorway, absently looking at the lively room, and feeling a little light headed. She was just about to turn around and leave when Phoebe caught sight of her. She was at a table with all the others while they happily ate their cupcakes, and when she saw Helga she hurried over, took her hand, and pulled her a little closer to the table.

"Helga, how did it go?" Phoebe asked anxiously. She looked around. "Where's Arnold?"

Helga shook her head. "I dunno."

Gerald had also turned to give Helga his full attention. "You don't look happy. What happened?"

"Gee willikers," Stinky said, "It's clear as horse spit—she's been rejected."

Sid shook his head sympathetically. Agatha stood and put a hand on Helga's arm. Teri said, "Aw, man, that sucks, sorry." Lenny offered her the last bite of his cupcake.

"That's not possible," Phoebe said, frowning. "What really happened?"

"He said..." She wrestled with it for a minute, before she finally said clearly, "He said he liked me."

Gerald nodded. "Right, because he does. And? Then what?"

Helga looked between Gerald and Phoebe with a furrowed brow. "Why don't you look surprised?"

They looked at each other. "Well, because we're not," Phoebe said.

"We know he likes you," Gerald said, "But tell us what happened next! Where is he? Why are you so gloomy?"

She didn't respond—she was beginning to process. They said they knew that he liked her. Which means he probably told them. And Arnold wasn't a liar, so, maybe, there was something to it.

"Oh, boy, don't look now, guys," Sid said, "But here comes Arnold."

The group turned to see Arnold coming in the cafeteria doors. They were dead silent as he crossed towards them, a hard look on his face. Helga swallowed and took a step back, but he walked right past the entire group. He didn't even pause to look at any of them. They watched him cross to a table in the middle of the cafeteria, where he said, "Excuse me," to the people sitting there, pushed aside their lunch trays, and stood on top of the table.

The mere act of climbing on the table grabbed quite a bit of attention, but the fact that it was Arnold, Sophomore class president, grabbed more, and to top it off, Arnold said loudly, "Excuse me for a minute, everyone, I have some very important presidential business." The buzz of conversation and clanging of trays quieted down, and only a few groups of people on the edges of the room didn't bother paying attention. When it was mostly quiet, Arnold said, "I'm publicly stating that I am in love with Helga Geraldine Pataki."

The room was quiet. A few students looked at each other, confused, and a couple asked, "Who's Helga?" The people at Helga's table sat with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Helga herself stood with her mouth open, staring up at him without blinking.

"Whoa..." Gerald said quietly, "That is some straight shooting."

After a moment of silence, R.J. raised his hand.

Arnold pointed at him. "Yes, R.J."

R.J. stood from his seat, drawing attention to himself. "How is this presidential business at all?"

"I'm the president and it's my business."

"You can't use government positions to further your own personal gain, it's against the law—"

"R.J., sit down and quit being so pretentious."

R.J. looked offended but sat down anyway, his nose in the air.

Arnold turned back to the room at large. "I'm merely saying this because Helga is so stubborn. Hopefully, now that I've also embarrassed myself in front of the whole school, she might understand how serious I am." He turned and locked eyes with Helga, who jumped slightly. "She might actually listen when I say I love her." He looked back at the room. "Thank you." He stepped down from the table and back across the room to the doors, and by the time he reached them, the student body was in an uproar, laughing and pointing and some people clapping and having the general attitude of, "Did that seriously just happen?"

Arnold got home after practice, feeling completely worn out. He let Abner and the rest of the boarding house pets out before dropping his backpack on the ground and slamming the door. Inside Sunset Arms, orange pumpkins hung across the doorways and spiderwebs covered the pictures on the walls. His grandmother stood on a ladder dressed as a gypsy, a light bulb in her mouth as she installed a black light in the hall.

Iva ran around the corner, dragging a Styrofoam skeleton behind her. She clamped onto Arnold's leg. Phil came by a second later. "Get back here with that, you little imp! Oh, hey, Shortman, how was school?"

"Chaos." He'd spent the morning in excited anxiety, then confessed to, got rejected by, and fought with Helga, which led to the brash decision to announce his love in front of practically everyone he knew. The rest of the day passed by him being followed around and mocked by Wolfgang while he explained to a million people that, no, he had never actually been dating Lila.

Some of his friends had been really surprised, but eventually just shrugged and went along with it, and Stinky said, "Arnold, you're kind of weird guy, has anyone told you that?" When Gerald had found Arnold, he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and said, "You are a bold, bold kid." Phoebe had been so excited she wrapped her arms around Arnold in a hug. "I'm so happy for you two! Helga's waited such a long time," She said, and he had to point out that he and Helga weren't together, and she only replied, "Not yet." At practice, Moze gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder. Then Teri gave him a nuggie, and Lenny offered to let Arnold borrow his lucky baseball card, which he believed had the power to remedy any situation.

Arnold had only seen a glimpse of Helga the rest of the day, down a hall as he passed. They made eye contact through the crowd, and he tried really hard to decipher what she was thinking before they each turned away to go to class. He thought the idea to tell everyone that he loved Helga might not have been the best decision ever, but he didn't regret it. He was glad he had, and he didn't feel bad about using the "L" word, either. He did love her. He just hoped that Helga wasn't too put off by him coming on so strongly. Well, she had come on to him strongly, too, but still. Sometimes she was easily scared off, and he didn't understand why she had freaked out so bad the first time he said he liked her.

"Grandpa," Arnold picked up Iva from his leg and handed the skeleton back to Phil, "What do I do if I tried picking up some of the pieces and I made it worse?"

"Worse, eh?" Phil rubbed his chin with the skeleton hand. "Well, if you're trying to fix it and it just doesn't want to be fixed, there's not a whole lot you can do. But maybe you're thinking about it wrong—big messes like this take two people to clean up."

"Two?"

"Sure. You can't be doing all the work yourself—takes teamwork! Isn't that right, Pookie?"

Gertrude had climbed down the ladder and was now holding a tambourine that she shook in the air. "Two halves make a whole!" She danced into the other room.

"Heh heh, there you have it. You keep on working on your half, and if you're lucky, maybe she'll start picking up her half."

Arnold nodded, thinking about this. He turned to go up to his room, still carrying Iva, who was tugging on his hair.

"Oh, Arnold, are you still going to that party tonight?"

It was the Sunset Arms annual Halloween party that night, no kids allowed. Lorenzo, the school party animal, was throwing a Halloween party at his mansion that night and all the neighborhood kids were going. Arnold had been thinking about going before, but didn't know if he felt up to it now. Gerald had offered to stay home with Arnold, to hang around and keep him company, but Arnold had told him to go with Phoebe and have fun. "I don't think so, Grandpa. Don't worry, I'll stay upstairs, though."

"All right, suit yourself. But if you get hungry, come down and have some food. I'll allow it." Phil winked at his grandson.

Arnold smiled. "Thanks, Grandpa." Then he headed upstairs.

He stopped by the Kokoshkas' room to drop Iva off, and Oskar said when he saw her, "Oh, thank you, Arnold, I didn't even know she was missing."

Then Arnold went up to his room, closed the door behind him, and flopped onto his bed. He closed his eyes with a sigh. Takes two to clean up, does it? Hmm. He wondered if Helga even wanted to pick up the pieces. He had been so confused when she rejected him earlier—what had that been about? Maybe it was his fault; maybe with Helga, it was better to go slow and take things easy. He didn't mind that much, he would wait, but he couldn't help wondering how much time it would take before she was ready to start picking up pieces.

A knock disturbed his thoughts, but it wasn't a knock on the door. He opened his eyes, confused, and looked up through his glass ceiling. Helga looked in through the clear paneling. When she saw she had his attention, she motioned for him to come up. Arnold shot up from the bed and climbed the ladder to the roof, so eager that he accidentally missed a step and bumped his head against the shelves on the wall. He pushed the glass latch open and climbed onto the roof, rubbing his head, and landed eyes on Helga.

"Hi." She said, looking uncomfortable.

"Hi." He said back, a little breathless.

"Sorry, uh, that I'm on your roof."

Arnold shook his head. "That's fine. You can be up here." He paused. "How long have you been up here?"

She shrugged. "Since school got out." He raised his eyebrows; school got out at two thirty, and it was now almost six and the sun was starting to set. She added defensively, "I needed time to think."

"All right." At least it was a rather warm day today. "Have you—"

She pointed at him. "Ah, no! Stop talking."

He shut his mouth.

"Come here," She led the way to where Gertrude kept her grand piano. It was covered in a thick piano case to protect it from the fall weather, but the piano bench was free and Helga gestured to it. "Sit."

He sat obediently and looked up at her.

"Ok." She pulled on the hem of her jacket and cleared her throat. "I love you."

He smiled a little. "Yes."

"No, don't talk! I worked on this!"

"Sorry."

She started again, "I love you, and I've been in love with you for a really long time. Pretty much forever. Sorry if that's weird. But I'm tired of running away and hiding it and of making everyone think I don't like you, because it's stupid and it gives me a headache. I never told you before, because, well, you probably would have laughed at me. And then I moved, and I missed you so much, but I got over you and moved on, but then I moved back and that was awkward as heck. But I thought I would just be New Helga, and maybe I could be your polite acquaintance, or friend, or whatever, but, of course, you made that totally impossible because you're just so freakin' adorable, and I realized that I still loved you anyway, and then it got all tense and weird, and I'm sorry about fighting and almost kissing you in your room last week, and I'm sorry I freaked out at the dance.

"I was just barely getting to a point where I was accepting that fact that it was ok to be in love with you and I didn't have to hide it when everything blew up, and I think that's part of the reason I freaked out earlier today. I was trying really hard to accept my own feelings, and I was bracing myself for you to reject me, and when you said you liked me, I seriously thought you were off your rocker, because, honestly, that's flat out crazy. It threw me off, and I didn't even know what to do, because the thought that you actually liked me had never even crossed my mind. Sure, I had wished you would like me, but I thought that's all it was: wishful thinking. I was totally prepared to spend the rest of my life in love with you while you never loved me back."

"But I do love you." Arnold said.

She pointed at him. "See! That's exactly what I'm talking about! That's crazy! Didn't all that stuff about stalking you and collecting your stuff weird you out?"

He shrugged. "A little. But then I thought it was kind of cute."

She gaped at him. "Cute? I was certifiably insane!"

"Maybe. Maybe I'm crazy, too."

"Well. Probably. But, still."

"So that's why you were all against going out with me? You just thought it wasn't possible that I actually liked you?"

"Pretty much."

"So...will you go out with me now?"

She shuffled, uncomfortable. "I don't know."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm a coward, obviously!" She started pacing. "I mean, I bullied you for years because I was afraid of rejection. You might like me, sure, maybe even love me, but I know for sure I love you way more. What if we start going out, and it doesn't work, so you break up with me? I really don't think I could handle that. I would much rather be rejected now, than be in a relationship with you and have it fall to pieces, or have my heart totally crushed when you break up with me. Besides, you seriously don't want to be in a relationship with me, because I would be awful at it. I'm emotionally retarded, I make fun of you all the time, I get crazy jealous, I'm closed off, and I have commitment issues! And I'm terrified of relationships, since I don't know what a good one looks like, and all of the examples in my life are terrible. My parents are so messed up—half the time, I wonder why they even got married. It is better now, but they still fight, and they have so many issues, and I don't want to live my life like that. If we ended up like them, I'd probably kill myself. And my sister? Don't even get me started. She and her husband are all cuddly and calling each other 'schmookie poo' and 'my lovely honey pie' and rubbing noses in public. Yeah! They do! And I'm just not that. When I was younger, sure, I imagined us being all cutsie and saying 'you're the queen of my heart' and crap like that, but if that's what a relationship is, I don't want it, and, frankly, I would just let you down, anyway!"

"Helga, that's not—"

"It is, and so maybe it would be better if we just—" She stopped when he abruptly stood up and took her by the shoulders.

"You're not listening to me again." He turned her around and sat her on the bench. "My turn to talk. You've been in love with me for years, right? The last thing you have is commitment issues. You do have a hard time talking about your feelings sometimes, but that's ok. That's not a chronic disease, that's something you can actually change, if you want. And I'm glad you get crazy jealous, because you know what? So do I. Being in a relationship doesn't mean we would figure it out right away, or that we have to be ridiculously cuddly, either. We would have to find our own way of doing things that works for us. You might be scared to be in a relationship, but not trying because you're just afraid it might end badly is wrong. You could miss out on so much. I'm just as nervous as you are, but I like you too much to quit before we've started. And I swear that we will never end up like your parents."

She stared up at him before looking down with a little smile. "You were always so good at that."

He raised his eyebrows. "Good at what?"

"Making me believe you. I can't tell you how many times I learned a valuable lesson or was able to mend the holes in my life because of your advice or what you told me."

"Really? My advice?"

She looked up at him with a snort. "Of course. I was a bratty, neglected kid who didn't take anyone's crap and didn't know how to connect with people. It's because of what I learned from you that I was able to grow up and reach out and make friends. Do you remember what you said to me the day I moved?"

He shook his head, taking a seat next to her.

"I was boasting it up how I was going to get out of this neighborhood and be so much better off without all you losers and junk, and you just looked at me and said, 'Moving is a good chance for you to be whoever you want to be, because no one there will know the difference. You should try being yourself, Helga. I bet the kids at your new school will like you just as much as I do.'"

"I said that?"

"Yep. You were the first person that expected me to be myself—not a bully, not Olga. Just me. You did a lot for me. You still do. You just made my life...better."

She didn't look at him and her cheeks were a bit pink, and Arnold smiled at her, feeling a tug on his heart. "You know, you made my life better, too."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, I did not. I made your life miserable."

"Sometimes. Other times I came across problems that I never could have handled if you hadn't helped me. And now, looking back knowing that you liked me, I suspect there's even more things you did for me that I never knew about. Remember that day just after fourth grade where we were sitting on my front stoop, eating the Jolly Olly man's ice cream and watchin' everybody else play baseball?"

"Yeah."

"And you ribbed me about my parents being gone?"

"Erk!" She looked guilty. "Yeah..."

"But then you told me that, no matter what, you'd be there for me." He looked at her fondly. "That meant a lot to me. I'm not really sure why, because at the time I had my friends and my grandparents, and my family in the boarding house, but once in a while, when I was having a bad day, I'd remember that you said you'd be there for me. And even though I never saw you, I believed you. It made me feel good to know there was someone out there who would come if I called. "

"Well, good. 'Cause I was serious, and I would have come running."

"I know." He smiled. "I think that just made it all the better when you came back. I was half in love with you already, and it didn't take much for me to fall the rest of the way. I think if you hadn't moved then, it would only have been a short amount of time before we got together."

"What? You think so?"

"Yeah."

She looked skeptical. "I dunno, I had a lot of growing up to do. Besides, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that jazz."

"Ha, maybe you're right. But we have a lot of lost time to make up for, then." He stood, glancing up at the twilit sky, before turning back and holding a hand out to her. "We're going out tonight."

"What? Where?"

"I don't care. Nowhere, anywhere. But we're going together."

"Hmph. Sounds like the blind leading the blind." But she took his hand anyway and stood next to him, her fingers intertwined in his. "Lead the way, Stevie Wonder."

"We can go to Lorenzo's party—you'd love his house. It has twenty three bedrooms, two pools, and this huge diamond chandelier."

"Are you serious?" She demanded. "What the heck are we still doing here?"

He laughed. She smiled back at him, for the first time since she'd been there, and it made him so happy to see it that he leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. He pulled back to see that her smile had fallen and she was staring at him. "Sorry," He said, "Too soon?"

She reached up with her free hand, grabbed the front of his shirt, and kissed him. It took Arnold less than a second to reciprocate. She was warm in the cool October night—he had goose bumps, but it wasn't because of the cold. After a minute she moved away, breathless, but he pulled her back, muttering a quick, "Wait, wait," and kissed her again. She let go of his hand and wrapped both arms around his neck and he held her tight around the waist. They bumped noses once or twice, but neither minded. Only when they were really desperate for air did they pull away, but they stayed close. Arnold gently leaned his forehead against hers and she smiled at him blissfully before giving him a little kiss on the nose.

"Kissing noses in public?" Arnold teased in a low voice.

"Shut up, football head, and kiss me again."

"Whatever you say." He leaned in, only to be startled when he heard a loud crash. He turned towards his room, only to see the Sunset Arms borders duck out of sight.

"Dang it!" Came Ernie's voice from below, "You totally pushed me off that ladder! Hyunh, scoot over!"

"It was not me, it was you!" Hyunh said.

"Shush, ya bunch of idiots!" Phil whispered harshly.

Helga, quite literally, turned beet red and backed away from Arnold, her hands in the air like she'd just been caught stealing. Arnold felt the embarrassment bubbling up inside of him, quickly being overpowered by anger. "What are you guys doing?"

Phil, Hyunh, and Oskar slowly peeked over the edge of the roof. "Oh, heya, Shortman. We, uh, didn't see you up there."

"Are you kidding me?" Arnold demanded, his cheeks flushed. "Can I not have even a little privacy?"

"Well, sure you can, Arnold, we just needed some quick pictorial evidence."

"You needed what?"

Hyunh waved a camera guiltily, and Phil said, "Heh heh, well, you see, we had to get a picture to prove who won the bet."

"What bet?"

"The bet on whether or not you two would get together. We've been waiting for years." He turned to Oskar. "Looks like you owe me back my fifty bucks, Kokoshka."

Oskar waved his hand, "Oh, Grandpa, we made that bet so long ago! We didn't even know that was the same girl. Can't we just forget it?"

"Heck no, you cockroach, I want my fifty bucks back!"

"How about an IOU?"

The men were all pushed aside as Gertrude made her way to the top of the ladder. "Oh, there you two are! I've been looking all over for you—I've got your costumes all ready for your party!"

"How did you know she was here?" Hyunh asked Gertrude as Phil tried to strangle Oskar.

Gertrude tapped the side of her nose. "The nose knows."

Arnold was horrified. He turned to Helga, having no idea how to apologize for his family. He was surprised to see her laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked.

She shook her head, "I don't know, ha ha! You have no idea how long I've waited for this!"

He smiled and took her hand again.

"Hey, Arnold!" Phil called, "Kiss her again, real quick for the camera!"

"What?"

A small chant of "Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her" started among the boarders and Hyunh held up his camera. Arnold looked at Helga, who was still chuckling. "Better make it a good one," She said.

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am." He pulled her close and kissed her for the first of many future kisses while the cameras flashed and his families cheers echoed across the rooftops of Hillwood.

A/N: It's over! Hopefully you enjoyed it! Thanks for all your support and everything!