Work Text:
Arnold laid in his bed, chasing sleep like a coyote chasing a roadrunner, fervently and without success. He should be happy. He should be sleeping like a baby, satisfied with a job well done. It had only been a week since he and Gerald had uncovered and destroyed Scheck’s scheme to bulldoze their neighborhood out of petty spite and erect a shopping mall in its place. But he couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink all week. His head just could not stop thinking about a certain other blonde in their neighborhood. One who usually spent her time trying to make his life miserable by any means necessary.
‘Maybe I don’t hate you as much as I thought, okay? I guess maybe…maybe I…even kinda like you a little! Heck, I guess you might even say that I like you a lot!’ Her words at the top of that slimeball Scheck’s headquarters rang in his head like a bell at noon.
Helga. Helga Geraldine Pataki…was in love with him. His mind buzzed with questions constantly, at all hours of the day and night. It occupied his mind even when he was hanging out with the others. Why? How? When? He groaned and rubbed his eyes with his hands. Sleep was becoming a rarity with these questions on his mind.
The sheer scope of her love terrified him, made his heart beat so fast he could swear it was attempting to free itself from his rib cage. Stalking? Shrines? Poetry? It was all just too much, too fast! And then…then she’d kissed him.
It was way too intense, and Arnold couldn’t help but think it was his fault. She’d clearly been holding these feelings in for a long time, and she’d tried to excuse her actions several times. But he just had to keep pushing, didn’t he? So it all just came flooding out the second the dam broke. His eyes drifted over his room, settling on a little pink book. He gently reached out, opening the book and reading the poetry. It was beautiful. Despite everyone laughing at it at the time, he’d found the poetry a little cheesy, but so heartfelt and full of love that he’d been instantly charmed by every single stanza. He realized only now that it most likely belonged to Helga, and every single poem was about him. The enormity of it staggered him. Despite himself, he opened the book.
‘Your eyes, like two green jellybeans,
Are pools I want to bathe in.
My head doth swoon, and yet
I want to beat your face in.’
Arnold read the poem, only now really understanding it. And according to Helga, there were multiple books like this. It was overwhelming. Arnold’s head hit the pillow with a groan, remembering what had happened after everything was over.
*
“So, pretty crazy day, huh?” He’d asked, scooting away from her.
“Yeah…said a lot of pretty nutty things back there.”
“Yeah…
“Yeah! W-well, um… about all that stuff I said, Arnold…” He’d never seen Helga like this before. So…shy. And as he watched her rub the back of her neck, he couldn’t help but think it was cute. “I…I mean it was crazy back there…!”
“Yeah…with all the excitement we just…uh…” He’d responded, mirroring her.
“Got carried away?” She added, and he detected a tone of hope in her voice.
“You didn’t really mean all that, did you?” He asked, looking away from her. “You don’t really…love me, right?”
“Right!” Helga responded quickly, her eyes suddenly failing to meet his own.
“You were just…caught up in the heat of the moment, right?”
“Right!”
“You actually…hate me, don’t you?” The question was almost rhetorical. He knew Helga well enough by now to know that she would take the bait. She turned away for only a second, before turning back.
“Of course I hate you, stupid Football head! And don’t you ever forget it, EVER!” She jabbed a finger in his face, and he couldn’t help but smile as she stomped away.
*
Looking back, he ran a hand over his face, trying to figure out why he gave her that chance. Why was she so hard to figure out?
No, that wasn’t it.
Why were his feelings so hard to figure out?
Despite their agreement, something had changed between them. He would take her constant spitballs and pranks with a simple soft smile. She seemed to actually step up her pranks and namecalling to the point of obnoxiousness, and he found he really didn’t mind. He knew why she was doing it, after all.
The constant pranks were getting too much, according to Gerald. But somehow he managed to turn them around on her more often than not. It was like a game, an entirely changed dynamic, one where he would smile at her specifically to see her face turn pink before she quite literally smacked the sense back into herself. He couldn’t believe how much he didn’t notice before just how obvious she was. How could he not have noticed all of those longing looks, all of the frantic scribbling in the little pink books? It was fascinating to him. He’d long hypothesized that Helga hid a sensitive side deep down, but he couldn’t BELIEVE that it was so easy to see now that he was looking for it.
Arnold knew how Helga really felt. It was wild, it was insane, it was…nice. Nice to be pursued instead of pursuing. Nice to know someone liked you without a shadow of a doubt, with all the fury of a raging fire.
But now, Arnold had to deal with his own feelings. When he had to think about it, he found his mind drifting to the clouds, flying overhead, and below, a jet black quagmire. He couldn’t fall in, no matter what happened.
It used to be all too easy to avoid examining himself, because he was all too busy examining others. Figuring out how to save the neighborhood from demolition, navigating his friend’s eccentricities, and even giving Dino Spumoni the heart to take his life back felt easier than figuring out how he felt about Helga.
Helga had spent seemingly their entire life being mean and insufferable to him, but she also seemed to go out of her way to help him when it really mattered. She said she hated him, but she would never just leave him to suffer. She really was kind underneath her exterior, just like he always thought she was.
He resented when she was mean, but he couldn’t hate her for it. He couldn’t, even before her confession. No matter what she did, she always tread a very fine line.
Helga was annoying, she was rude, she was brutish, and selfish.
But he knew that wasn’t the real her.
He always knew. He’d seen her be nice, he’d seen her care about others. He saw how protective she was of Phoebe, and how she bonded with the others. If she were nothing but rotten to the core, wouldn’t they all just…abandon her? He knew, deep down, behind layer after layer of sarcasm, biting remarks, pranks and physical intimidation, she was sensitive. And she…was afraid to show it, just like he thought.
But there was one thing he couldn’t bury, and that was his loneliness. Arnold often felt…separate from everyone. He was their friend, but he felt like he was put on a bit of a pedestal. Arnold, the eternally optimistic one, the one who knew what to do to solve any problem. But as summer turned to fall, and October approached, he just…couldn’t be that person, at least for a while.
Even after finding his father’s map in his journal, it’s not like he could just jump a plane to San Lorenzo to find his parents. So the entire thing was moot. He still held that hope in his heart. But as the year went by, he just couldn’t keep his optimism up. Sometimes he just found a quiet place to sit down and just…read his father’s journal, or remove his little blue hat and stare at it.
And of course she found him. She did admit to stalking him, after all, how could she not? He was in the forest at the edge of town, sitting on an old log, fiddling with the little blue hat.
She sat with him, quietly scooting next to him, not saying a word. When he didn’t even acknowledge her, she just sighed.
“I uh…I can’t say I know what you’re going through, Arnold.” She said, dropping the derogatory nicknames for once. “But…you’re not alone.”
“Then why do I feel so alone, Helga?” He responded, running his hands over the fabric of the tiny hat. “It’s like…it’s like there’s a hole in my heart. I tried to fill it, with my friends, with my grandparents, with my family, and even with girls. But nothing ever filled the hole they left behind.”
Helga lifted her hand, trying to muster the will to touch his shoulder, but he sighed and she pulled back. “Arnold…I…” She sighed deeply, as if mustering up the courage to say what she actually meant.
“I’ve got a map, but there’s no real possibility they’re alive. They’ve been gone for nearly ten years. It feels stupid to still have that hope.” He slumped, his grip loosening on the hat, almost letting it fall to the ground.
She reached over and placed her hand on his, flinching as the touch sent little shocks down her spine. “It’s almost cruel to hold onto that hope.” She looks down, scowling, but in determination, not anger. “But if anyone can ever turn a hopeless situation into an impossible reality, it’s you, Arnold. How many crazy situations have we gotten into that only you and your annoying optimism have gotten us out of?”
Arnold snorted in amusement. “Way too many.”
“Exactly. Don’t build your entire life around it, Arnold. But if you get a chance to find out what happened, then seize it and don’t let go until you find those answers.” She stood up, dusting off her dress. “I’ve got to go. But please…don’t let go of that hope, Arnold. It’s…one of the things I like about you” And he could hear the pleading in it. It was like she could see the tar pit he was balanced precariously above, trying to steady him as much as she could.
“You either, Helga.” He said without thinking. Helga stopped, spine straight, no doubt over-analyzing the remark, before she slowly relaxed and stepped away, her steps a little lighter than her usual stomping.
Arnold gave a small little smile. Helga always knew just what to say to keep that flame inside of him alive. Whenever he threatened to fall into that black hole of cynicism, she came along and, with so few words, kept him from teetering in.
‘’Yeah well I’m a pretty amazing person.’ She’d said on that rooftop. She certainly wasn’t lying. Helga was pretty amazing.
But he…he was scared. What if he returned her feelings and she decided the fantasy was better than the real thing? What if she saw just how shallow he was? What if she…rejected him?
After seeing how wonderful a person she really was, the possibility of rejection absolutely scrambled his brain. He already felt so lonely that he could hardly bear it. The possibility of letting someone in and then not having it stick was paralyzing.
And so, Arnold spent his nights puzzling over it, trying to figure out what to do. His grandparents certainly didn’t help. He couldn’t tell anyone about this, not just because they wouldn’t understand, but because Helga valued her reputation too much. She’d done some pretty crazy things to keep her secret safe, it was the least he could do to respect that.
But of course, it wouldn’t be too long before someone noticed. Grandpa followed him up the stairs after dinner one night, staying quiet until they were at his stairs. “Hey Shortman, what's botherin’ ya?” He’d asked casually, climbing the stairs and sitting on the couch.
“It’s nothing Grandpa. I’m fine.” Arnold brushed him off, sitting at his desk, but Grandpa gave him that same toothless smile as always.
“It’s not that little lady friend of yours with the unibrow is it? She still bothering ya?” For some reason, the mention of Helga made Arnold smile.
“Yeah…but I know why now. You were right Grandpa. She likes me. Not just likes me either, like…like me likes me.” He shook his head. “She told me she loves me.”
“Love? Jumpin’ jiminy, that’s quite a lot for a ten year old boy! What’d you say back?” Grandpa asked, leaning forward, more invested in the conversation than Arnold had ever seen.
“I…didn’t. I gave her the chance to take it back, to say it was the heat of the moment. And she took it.”
Phil gave off a low chuckle. “But you don’t believe that for a second, do ya boy? Chip off the ol’ block you are! I was exactly the same with little Gertie back when we were kids.”
“Yeah, about that, Grandpa…What happened with you and Gertie? Did she ever tell you she liked you?” Arnold asked.
“Of course she did! It was at prom in 1941. She pulled me away from my date and said “You ain’t going to war without me telling you I love you, now pucker up, hot lips!” and then she kissed me! She took it back, saying it was only because she heard I got drafted. But the second I got off the boat after the war, she rushed me and kissed me like a dang fool!”
Arnold blinked. “Wow…what happened? Where’s Gertie now?”
“Oh, in the kitchen doing the dishes, Shortman!” Arnold’s jaw dropped in astonishment.
“Grandpa! Why didn’t you tell me Gertie was Grandma the entire time?”
“What, I thought it was obvious!” Grandpa chuckled, and Arnold frowned. “Alright, alright. I’ll be honest with ya, Shortman, I spent the entire war thinking about her. She made my childhood a living nightmare, and all because she loved me more than anything.”
“What did you do?” Arnold asked.
“It came after that story I told you about outsmartin’ those Nazis. I could’ve been hurt at any moment. I realized that Gertie loved me more than anything, and I don’t think I’d ever find anyone who would love me more. And, I could see the her beneath all that bluster. I bought the ring a week after I got back to the US, and I never looked back.”
Grandpa’s story made Arnold chuckle, although there was little humor to it. “I don’t know if I can do that, Grandpa. I mean, I’m pretty much in the exact same situation. Helga’s…an amazing person. She hides everything behind her anger, but she’s kind, generous, caring and so, so sensitive. She writes poetry about me, Grandpa.” He slumped in his chair. “But I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. When I think of approaching her about it, I end up thinking about…my parents. It’s like…there’s a hole in my heart, Grandpa. And nothing can fill it.”
Phil’s face fell. He got up from the couch and knelt in front of Arnold, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry Shortman. I can’t say you’ll ever forget, or you’ll ever fill that hole. But I can say that you’re young. You’ve got a lot of growing up to do. You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out. My grandpappy told me once that you don’t heal any wound on your soul. You just grow around it. Maybe once you grow up a little you’ll find room in your heart for her. You best just hope she’s alright with waiting.”
“...Thanks Grandpa.” Arnold stepped out of the chair and wrapped his arms around his grandpa’s neck in a hug, Phil’s eyes softened and he squeezed back.
“Keep that chin up, Arnold. Pookie’ll send you some cookies and milk before bed, alright?” And he stood up and headed down the stairs.
Arnold mulled over the thoughts in his head, climbing out of his skylight and onto the roof. Grandma simply climbed up with a stool and set his plate of cookies and glass of milk next to him and left without a word. She always knew when to let him stay with his thoughts.
He always thought of himself as someone who understood people easily. But dealing with Helga made him realize he really didn’t know anyone as well as he thought he did. Gerald was cool and controlled, but prone to fear and overreacting. Harold was brutish and a slob, but a truly sensitive soul who cared about others and himself. Stinky seemed like a rube, but he was probably the wisest and most determined ten year old Arnold knew. Rhonda was vain and self-effacing, but she led by example and knew that everything wasn’t about her. Every single one of his friends had a different side to them, a side that utterly contradicted what everyone knew about them.
And his and Helga’s was the most contradictory mask of them all. Beneath all of that anger and sarcasm was a sensitive, sweet, romantic, kind young lady, and she’d given him her heart. Arnold was calm and selfless to a fault, but he was so criminally lonely and so afraid of rejection that it would rock him to the core if it ever happened with something more than a schoolboy crush.
He looked out at the setting sun. Every single person in this city was just like his friends. They were far more than any outward appearance would suggest. Everyone had a different side to them, many he had never seen before, and many he never would. He wondered how many had the strength to really examine themselves. When he looked inward, the black hole in his soul seemed ever-consuming, a slowly growing pit where anything positive would be absorbed and never seen again. But maybe one day, when he was older, there would be room to let others in closer. And maybe…just maybe…he could let Helga get closer too.
Arnold had a lot of growing up to do.
No, he wasn’t ready to hear Helga out about her feelings. He wasn’t ready to accept them.
But he hoped some day soon, he would be ready to hear it.