[A/N: Well, this will be my first time working on TWO stories at the same time! WHAT IS THIS MADNESS? I dunno. But I was feeling inspired and decided to go for it. I've had this idea for a LONG time and finally decided to start working on it. I hope you all enjoy it and please let me know what you think! There is a LOT that's gonna go down! If you know me, you know: There is DRAMA afoot! Read on, my dearies.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold]

A biting wind whipped past Helga and into the lobby of Hillwood High as she sought cover from the bitter cold. Winter was at its peak and the frigid temperatures were unrelenting. Helga stomped on the rug to shed the caked snow that had accumulated during her walk. She'd missed the bus this morning and, figuring she was already going to be late, stopped at a local café to get a coffee on the way. Of course, by the time she'd gotten to school, the beverage had cooled significantly and no longer enticed her so she chucked it in the nearest trashcan.

It was the middle of junior year of high school and not very much had changed. Just about all of her old friends (assuming you could call all of them "friends") were at Hillwood High, albeit in different classes. Helga had grown up quite a bit over the years and, while she certainly wasn't a very "popular" girl, she'd gotten to a point where she could at least tolerate her peers. For the most part.

Big Bob and Miriam were still just as absent as they'd always been, though Miriam had been toying with the idea of attending Alcoholics Anonymous. At least, that's what Olga had been hoping for – over the past year, she'd actually been working to coax Miriam into some form of therapy or rehab after Miriam totaled the car. Olga was going to school a couple hours away while she worked on her third Master's degree. She wasn't married yet, though. Somehow, no man could ever fully… handle Olga.

Good old Hillwood. Just about everyone was still the same as they'd always been.

Helga came to her locker and dropped her backpack to the floor as she fussed with her combination lock. The halls were somewhat deserted considering class had started 45 minutes prior but Helga honestly couldn't say she cared. With her locker open, she pulled out what she needed in exchange for her backpack which she stuffed unceremoniously into the bottom, then slammed the locker door shut. Just as she had clicked the combination lock in place again and turned the knob, an irritatingly familiar voice echoed from behind her.

"Ms. Pataki, I see you're late. Once again," Principal Wartz stood tapping his foot, hands on his hips.

Helga turned around slowly and offered a pathetic attempt at an apologetic smile. "It seems I am…" She shrugged. "Well, that just sucks, huh?"

"Watch your tone, young lady," Wartz warned, his brow furrowed. "You know the drill," And he pointed down the hall in the direction of the Main Office.

"Right," Helga pointed at him briefly, acknowledging his instruction before turning and heading to the Office for a late pass.

There were a few other students in there for the same reason and Helga stood in line to accept her pass.

"Name?" The head secretary asked without ever looking up at her.

"Helga Pataki,"

"And your classroom?"

"405. Mrs. Soracoe,"

The secretary finished scribbling on a small notepad and ripped the top sheet off, handing it to Helga who then adjusted her books in one arm and headed to what was left of her first class.

. . . . . . . .

"—and that's due on the following Tuesday,"

Helga came into the classroom just as Mrs. Soracoe had been explaining the upcoming assignments in their British Literature class. She did her best to enter discreetly and slinked past the first row of desks before Mrs. Soracoe turned and spotted her.

"Well, glad to see you could join us today, Ms. Pataki," Mrs. Soracoe said in a disapproving tone. "Your late slip?"

"Yeah," Helga muttered as she reached over a few classmates to hand the paper to her.

Mrs. Soracoe continued talking about the details of the next piece of literature they would be reading and Helga found her seat in one of the middle desks on the left-hand side of the room.

"Hey," Curly greeted her as she got herself situated at her desk. She and Curly had become pretty good friends over the years. They'd found an unexpected common ground when he had stumbled upon Helga's secret obsession with Arnold in the sixth grade. Granted, Helga preferred to keep those embarrassing memories buried with the past; her locket, her poetry books, and oh, those god-awful shrines...

"Hi Curly," Helga sighed. She was still feeling a bit grumpy due to lack of sleep but managed a half-smile for her friend. Despite Helga's success at moving past her obsession with Arnold, Curly hadn't been so fortunate when it came to Rhonda. He was still head-over-heels for her and longed for the moment she would finally give him the time of day.

In truth, Helga felt a little sorry for Curly.

. . . . . . . .

On the opposite side of the room, Arnold couldn't concentrate. He'd been staring off dreamily for approximately fifteen minutes and Gerald had taken notice of his best friend's absent-minded doodling.

"Hey man, snap out of it," Gerald whispered, elbowing Arnold in the side and jolting him out of his daze.

"Hey!" Arnold yelped a little too loudly and everyone turned to him briefly before Mrs. Soracoe carried on with her lecture. "What did you do that for?" Arnold whispered back, a bit harshly.

"Look at your freakin' notebook, Arnold!" Gerald jabbed a finger at one of Arnold's doodles – one of many elaborate hearts that were scattered all over the page. "You wanna tell me what's goin' on or are you just gonna leave a brotha hangin' while you go off in La-La-Land?"

"Oh," Arnold looked down at the page and realized he'd been scribbling all over the page, leaving little room for actual notes. "I guess I wasn't paying attention,"

"Ya think?" Gerald asked, still keeping his voice hushed. "You're sprung if I ever saw it, man,"

Arnold darted a glance over to the other side of the room again and that was all the confirmation Gerald needed.

"Man, this has gotta stop. Either say something about it or leave it alone. But Arnold, you've got to stop droolin' all over the place,"

Arnold furrowed his eyebrows, "I wasn't drooling," His expression softened. "Besides, she's dating Sid. He's one of our really good friends – I couldn't do that to him…"

"Well, you better figure somethin' out, buddy cuz all of this—" Gerald motioned emphatically at Arnold, indicating his behavior. "—isn't gonna fly. Not for long. You don't even have to tell me what's on your mind and I already know. Can't say I agree with it, but I definitely understand. I never thought these words would ever come outta my mouth but Helga's gotten –"

"Gerald!" Arnold tried to hush him. He didn't really want to say her name, in case anyone overheard. Plus he knew Gerald would be painfully blunt about how Helga had… filled out… over the years. She still had very thick eyebrows but over the years they had naturally thinned out. She was tall and slender with curves at the hips that a lot of guys had started taking notice of when they got to high school.

"I'm just sayin'!" Gerald threw his hands up, warding off Arnold's reprimand.

As Arnold relaxed, thinking that was the end of the conversation, Gerald added under his breath, "Never seen an ass like that on a white girl…"

Arnold shot Gerald an incredulous look and Gerald struggled to stifle his laughter.

. . . . . . . .

Helga had "B" lunch which meant she had the second lunch shift. The only companions she typically had during this period of her day were Curly and Phoebe. As she made her way through the throngs of "A" lunch students exiting the cafeteria, she found an empty table and reserved two of the seats for her friends who showed up shortly thereafter.

Phoebe set her lunchbox down on the tabletop with a demure sense of grace and smiled at Helga. They'd remained best friends throughout the years and Phoebe had really appreciated the change in Helga. She was still pretty abrasive but no longer as bossy and self-serving as she had been when they were kids.

"How are you today, Helga?" Phoebe questioned as she opened her thermos, taking a sip of green tea.

"Well, I woke up late and missed the bus so that was fun…" Helga replied sarcastically.

"I believe a more effective alarm clock would solve that problem," Phoebe suggested as she delicately unwrapped her sandwich.

Helga chuckled, "Yeah, I guess the drunk one isn't really cutting it, huh?"

"Hey guys," Curly smiled as he set his lunch-tray down at the table. "What's up?"

"Curly, do you believe you're ready for the history exam Mr. Lakenpaul has prepared for us next week?" Phoebe inquired conversationally.

"We have a history exam?" Curly raised an eyebrow at her as he began to open his milk carton.

Helga jerked a thumb in his direction, speaking to Phoebe, "I guess that answers your question,"

It was at that moment that Wolfgang appeared behind Curly and snatched the milk carton out of his hand.

"Hey!" Curly turned around quickly and stood up from his seat. However, at 5'5", he stood powerless next to a 6 foot tall Wolfgang.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Wolfgang feigned an apologetic tone as he turned to two of his friends, also seniors, that stood behind him. "Does this belong to you?"

"Just give it back, Wolfgang," Helga glared at him.

"Sure thing," Wolfgang smirked as he dumped the entire carton of milk on Curly's head, then threw his own head back with hateful laughter. "Oh, that was priceless," He walked off with the other seniors and Curly sat back down.

"Here, Curly," Phoebe took some napkins from her lunchbox and handed them to him.

Helga hated the way everyone treated Curly. After elementary school, Curly's eccentric and "dorky" ways were treated with a lot more hostility than they ever had been before.

Curly accepted the napkins and removed his glasses, setting them down on the table quite calmly and wiping his face. Milk still dripped from his jet-black hair and his T-shirt was splotched with wet patches but he didn't seem to be wholly concerned. This wasn't exactly the first time something like this had happened.

"You okay, Curly?" Helga asked.

Curly nodded, "I guess I should go clean up,"

He stood up slowly and started to walk toward the exit. As he did, he turned and looked back at the table. Helga and Phoebe had such pitiful looks on their faces. Meanwhile, at a table farther over, Wolfgang and his friends were still watching him, laughing. That's when he caught notice of Rhonda sitting at the next table over. She looked him up and down but her expression was unreadable. Or maybe it was just indifference. But when she turned away, Curly saw her smirk and then giggle in response to a comment from another girl.

With a sigh of defeat, Curly trudged out of the cafeteria and made his way to the boy's room.

. . . . . . . .

"Hey sexy," Sid purred as Helga came around the corner after lunch.

"Oh god, don't call me that," Helga narrowed her eyes at him but relaxed when he smiled and pulled her toward him.

Sid had "C" lunch and they usually met here in the hallway as Helga was leaving and Sid was arriving. They had only been together for a couple of weeks and the shock of their new relationship still had a few jaws resting on the floor. Sid had had a crush on Helga for the past year and despite her long-standing resistance, he hadn't been dissuaded from pursuing her. It had taken a while, but she'd finally agreed to allow him to take her on a date. She figured it couldn't hurt and she would let him down gently after humoring him just once but she'd actually found that she enjoyed his company. And he wasn't bad to look at, either. He was approximately Helga's height, with a modest physique and he still wore his scraggly black hair under a cap that he turned backwards. But something about him was endearing. Maybe it was the fact that he made Helga feel wanted. He made her feel sexy and desirable, something that she had long struggled with considering her awkward beginnings. And he always seemed so grateful to simply be in her presence. It felt good to know someone liked her like that… As more than a friend. She couldn't say that their feelings in the relationship were equal – he was surely more invested than she was – but for the time being, it worked.

Arnold and Gerald were coming down the hallway at that time, headed for lunch when Arnold noticed Helga and Sid canoodling near the entrance. Sid whispered something in her ear and Helga's face turned red before she let out a sheepish laugh.

Arnold felt his skin crawling, his pulse quicken.

"Easy, easy," Gerald nudged Arnold, "Walk it off, man,"

Arnold tried not to watch them as he headed in their direction but he couldn't help but feel like his blood was boiling. It wasn't fair. Helga loved him. Arnold. At least that's what she'd told him. Granted, it was a long time ago but still, how could she go from him to Sid? And of course, Arnold kicked himself for not realizing his feelings sooner but by the time he finally had, Helga seemed to have become disinterested and as more time passed, the idea of telling her how he felt seemed more and more… intimidating.

They finally made it past the sickening couple and into the cafeteria. Arnold's fists were clenched tight and his eyes narrowed but he forced himself to relax.

Once he and Gerald found a table, Arnold slumped into one of the seats and sighed, "I really hate this."