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Helga Pataki and Arnold Shortman had been dating for three years. Helga was in heaven.

In the time since San Lorenzo, Helga was getting all the attention from Arnold she could ever ask for. Her football-headed prince was…absolutely incredible. Even just thinking of him offering his hand threatened to make her swoon.

Arnold thought she loved him. In reality, love was too small a word for the eternal maelstrom that was her feelings. A storm she was afraid would capsize his puny little lifeboat and overwhelm him until he sought safer shores.

But he didn’t.

Arnold read her cheesy poetry books with that smile that came way too easily for him. He looked at pictures of her shrines and was flattered, not scared. He did think it was overwhelming, but he got used to it pretty quickly. He stood in that storm that was her feelings, and with a shrug and a laugh, that storm died down. The intensity of it didn’t scare him one bit. It was better than she ever dared dream. When he did something so little to show he cared, like reaching for her hand, and she launched into a monologue mid-walk to school, he didn’t laugh at her at all. He just gazed at her like she was the sun, a mile-wide smile on his face.

Three years since San Lorenzo.

Three years since their relationship began.

And no one knew.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Gerald knew. Tall Hair Boy had certainly gotten smug seeing Arnold follow Helga around like a lost puppy, and kept giving them sly little looks.

Phoebe knew. Phoebe knew about her crush in the first place, after all. Phoebe knew her better than she knew herself, and Helga didn’t even try to hide how happy Arnold had made her already.

His parents had seen them kiss, and every time she stopped by to do her homework or play videogames with Arnold, they showed her those annoying-but-heartwarming smiles. Stella seemed determined to get to know Helga, and Helga wouldn’t admit it, but she felt close to the older woman, trading stories about her and Arnold’s youth in exchange for cookies or a story from her own life. Helga wouldn’t say it out loud (Don’t want to scare off her potential future-in-laws) but she felt closer to Stella than her own mother already. Miles was also an incredible person, teaching her recipes he’d learned in his own youth and never passing up a chance to tease the pair. It felt…normal. Like what a father should do.

But no one else. Helga was determined to keep the relationship secret. So handholding was done in hidden alleys or janitor’s closets. Dates were at places she knew the rest of the gang wouldn’t be. In public, she snatched her hand away from his when he reached for it, she shoved him all the same. She didn’t hurt him, and he could tell she was pulling her punches while maintaining her reputation. And to his credit, Arnold was just fine with that arrangement. He thought it was romantic to hide how they felt about each other. He was willing to go at her pace, and his patience nearly made Helga swoon on more than one occasion.

However, as time went on, it was getting harder and harder to keep up the facade. 

Not because people were getting wise.

But because Helga’s beloved Arnold was a moron.

Arnold stared at his phone in utter terror. Two text messages from two different people sat on his phone.

One was from Gerald, a picture of him, Harold, Sid, and Stinky inside a bodega. “Hey Arnold, what snacks you want us to bring for Mario Kart Night? Still on for 7?”

From the other, his girlfriend had a short, terse text, her usual style. “I’ll be there at seven, football head.”

Arnold’s heart began thumping in his chest, and he could swear he felt his soul attempting to flee from his body in utter panic. He switched from one text to another. Same time, no wiggle room. ‘Okay, okay. Nothing has happened yet, I have time to fix this…!’ He thought frantically, flicking from one text to another. Delaying with Helga was right out. She hated it when he rescheduled, and quite frankly he did too.

So he chose to try and blow off his friends. ‘Actually guys, do you think we could start a bit later, say 8?’

‘Why?’ Gerald asked, and Arnold couldn’t help but detect a hint of smugness in the tone of the text.
‘You never cancel!’ Harold added.

‘Wilikers Arnold, are you dyin or sumthin?’ Stinky finished, and Arnold groaned. His phone vibrated in his hand.

‘You didn’t forget, did you.’ Helga wasn’t asking. He gulped down the lump in his throat and began typing out a reply…only to delete it all. He tried twice more before finally sending.

‘Of course not! Just wanna make sure tonight is perfect!’ There was no reply, and Arnold’s heart sank in his chest. There’s no way she didn’t know something was up.

The group chat replied next, and Arnold always hated the feeling of being ganged up on. Now he figured he understood what his Grandpa meant when he said “Never fight a war on two fronts, Short Man!”

‘You never reschedule! What gives? Are you part of some secret cult sacrificing chicks in dark altars or something?!’ And curse Sid and his love of cheesy b-horror, because that gave Arnold an idea for later. An idea involving candles, the boarding house basement, and some rather revealing outfits for Helga…. He shakes off those ideas with a mad urgency, filing them away for later, and frantically tries to type out something they’ll buy.

‘Something came up.’ Too boilerplate. Deleted.

‘Mom and Dad need my help with something.’ He wouldn’t make a commitment like that without letting his parents know first. Deleted.

Finally he settles on ‘Just tired’ and prays to every pantheon he can conjure up that they buy it.

They don’t.

‘You were tired yesterday after class and still managed to hit 3 home runs at Gerald Field.’ Stinky answers, and Arnold seriously considers just throwing his phone out the window and running away from home.

Arnold’s phone buzzes again. ‘Why do you suddenly sound like you’re getting romance advice from a book.’ Again, not a question. She was onto him. The balance finally broke, and sweat beaded down his brow.

‘Is that such a bad thing?’

‘Yes.’ Is the immediate reply. He looks back to the group chat and tries one last desperate maneuver.

‘How about we just do game night tomorrow, huh?’

‘NO WAY!’ Harold replies in all caps. ‘I already bought all the snacks with my allowance, if we go home now they’ll all be gone!’

‘I’ll cover snacks next time.’ Arnold tried.

‘I already told my parents I was staying over after game night, Arnold! I ain’t going back now!’ Gerald replied. There’s another obligation he forgot about. Damn it.

‘Seriously guys I think Arnold’s been taken over by a pod person from another dimension or something, this isn’t like him!’ Sid added. The chorus of agreement from the others made Arnold audibly groan and pinch the bridge of his nose.

He switched back to Helga. He could see her typing. Deleting. Retyping. Deleting. Retyping again.

‘Arnold.’ That was it. The jig was up, his goose was cooked, his tale was told. He was positively done for. Nothing left to do but put on his blindfold and cigarette, walk in front of the firing squad, and face the music.

‘I…may have forgotten I agreed to a game night with the guys.’ He finally answered, and he physically flinched away from his phone as he waited for the reply notification, as if his girlfriend could reach through the screen and throttle him.

It didn’t come. Arnold could feel his body heating up in panic, especially when he heard the door to the boarding house open. His eyes flicked to the window as he waited for Helga to appear, but he was cut off by his stairs being lowered and his friends entered the room, talking and greeting him like usual…with Helga in tow.

“Helga…?” He muttered, almost a barely audible whisper, and Helga shot him a look that screamed ‘act natural, idiot.’ “What are you doing here?”

“Oh she insisted on watching.” Gerald jabbed a thumb at Helga, who sneered in return. “Harold, Sid, and Stinky were too scared to say no.”

“That’s right, geekwad. Now save me a seat so I can watch Arnold lose, I gotta go to the little girls’ room.” Helga snarled, turning around, and Arnold suddenly remembered she’s not supposed to know where it is. Of course. It was Helga, everything was calculated.

“I’ll show you the way. We’ll be right back, guys. Go ahead and set up the system without us!” He called. The boys looked at each other, then to Gerald, who just shook his head and started setting up the game.

Helga growled as Arnold trailed behind her, “Um, Helga, are you mad?” He asked meekly, and she could swear her heart literally turned into a puddle of mush.

“No, Arnoldo, I’m not mad. But you nearly blew our cover with this little stunt!” She throws her arms up into the air, careful to keep her voice low to avoid anyone hearing her. “Criminy! You are just one awkward sentence away from revealing everything, aren’t you!?”

Arnold’s face turned bright red. “I mean, yeah. I told you I wasn’t good at secrets. But also…it’s been three years. Is it really necessary to keep it a secret?”

Helga’s eyes narrowed. “You know why we can’t do that, Football Head. I don’t need their judgment, I don’t need their unwanted opinions, and I don’t need their input.”

Arnold however, stood his ground. “Helga, I’ve kept this lie up for years. I hate lying, and more importantly I’m bad at it, as we just saw. We either tell everyone our way or I mess up and they find out anyway.”

Helga growled, but one look at her football-headed paramour and his hangdog expression made her sigh in defeat. “...I’ll think about it, Football Head.” She grabbed Arnold and pulled him in for a kiss, and all the tension between them melted away. It didn’t last, of course. She quickly released him and strided past, slamming the door to the bathroom shut. Arnold stumbled, holding onto his chest with a lovesick sigh.

“Man, you two absolutely ain’t slick, you know that?” Gerald’s voice hit Arnold’s ears, and he jumped a foot in the air as his best friend laughed.

“No one asked for your opinion, hair boy!” Helga snapped from the bathroom.

Gerald just rolled his eyes. “C’mon loverboy, the others are getting suspicious again.”

“Y-Yeah…I…Yeah…” Arnold struggled to keep himself together and not just descend into lovesick babbling.

Two things were for sure though.

One: Arnold was awful at keeping secrets.

Two: Things would be a lot easier if he didn’t have to.

Okay, so that didn’t work. Harold, Sid, and Stinky eventually bought (with Gerald’s help) that Arnold just had a bit of nausea from his grandpa’s pickled herring and it passed quickly. Helga watched them play, laughing as Arnold struggled to win with the phantom feeling of Helga’s lips on his own occupying his thoughts. At the end of the day, Arnold was left feeling fulfilled by his friends, but wishing he could’ve had the time to spend with Helga.

But let it never be said that Arnold Shortman didn’t learn from his mistakes. What he learned from this little fiasco was that he should never lie on the spot. So obviously the solution was to come up with an ironclad lie in advance. But it couldn’t just be any lie. It had to be both rock-solid and noble enough to sound like him.

So, the next time he was sitting on his stoop with his friends, wondering what to do with their day when his phone buzzed. He got up and said he wouldn’t be able to make it to the Arcade.

“Where ya going, Arnold?” Gerald asked. But the easy smile on his face betrayed the fact that he damn well knew where he was going by now.

“Uh yeah, I’m doing some volunteer work for some extra credit. Mom and Dad set it up for me.” He lied smoothly. 

“Volunteer work? What kind?” Rhonda asked, tilting her head.

“Oh, uh, just some community renewal stuff. The group my mom hooked me up with is evaluating that empty lot behind the bus depot as a space for a new community garden. Stuff like tomatoes, cabbages, stuff like that.” Arnold lied again. The empty lot behind the bus depot was out of the way and abandoned enough that no one would sneak over and see him not doing anything of the sort.

“Oh that sounds delightful!” Nadine chimes in, eyes shining. “You’re enriching the community, cleaning things up for our beloved bug friends.” And that’s when Arnold suddenly realized his lie was too good. He gave Gerald a look, but his best friend only responded with his smile growing to smug levels and a shake of his head.

“Gosh, this community garden sounds peachy keen!” Stinky said with a smile. “What’s the name of the group, Arnold?”

“Uh…it’s called…Shortaki Gardens.” Gerald facepalmed at the name Arnold clearly came up with on the spot. Thankfully no one noticed.

“Do they need any more volunteers, Arnold?” Sheena asked with her usual big smile. “I know I could contribute!”

“Well, uh, not exactly. I’m only a scout right now. Just seeing if the space is viable. I uh, might do some fundraising if things pan out.” Arnold answered nervously. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. They were just supposed to accept his excuse and let him go!

“I think it’s ever-so nice that you’re doing your part for your community.” Lila answered with a smile. “Perhaps I could make some lemon bars and we could all make a day out of cleaning the abandoned lot?”

Arnold’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he inwardly cursed his ability to craft a believable lie when he really wanted to. He had to get out of there, NOW. “Maybe later, guys. I don’t wanna be late on my first day! See ya!” And then he scampered off faster than was probably necessary.

“Huh…” Harold mumbled thoughtfully, stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Arnold never turns down a chance to get help.” Rhonda frowned. “I smell gossip.”

“Or maybe,” Phoebe offered helpfully. “Arnold just wants to make a good first impression before we inundate his volunteer work with a single massive project?” She gave Gerald a pointed look, and he offered a smile back.

“Phoebs is right guys. Let Arnold do his thing. If he wants help he’ll ask for it. You all know he’s not shy about asking for it. Now c’mon, let’s hit up the arcade or something.” That got a few mumbles of agreement before they left Arnold’s stoop.

***

“You told them WHAT?” Helga cackled as Arnold related the story, doubled over and slapping her knees as her boyfriend related the tale. They were at the abandoned lot behind the bus depot, dangerously close to downtown. Arnold had thought it a good meeting spot to keep things hush-hush.

“I figured I’d come up with one big blanket excuse for why I can’t make certain dates. It’s working too well already.” He grumbles, although he can’t be all mad at just how amusing Helga finds the situation. It’s rare to see her laugh with wild abandon like this, and he thinks it’s adorable every single time.

“Hoooo…Well, it’s your own fault for making it a charitable cause, Football Head.” She sneered, crossing her arms. “You know everyone in this neighborhood would bend over backwards to throw themselves at a cause if you were behind it.”

Arnold frowned, but there was no heat to it. Here in downtown, he could see the unrestrained smile of Helga G. Pataki and there was no hiding the smile slowly creeping onto his face as he tried to scold his girlfriend. “I guess the bus depot is our new date night spot…and we’re gonna have to clean it up, too.”

Helga rolled her eyes. “Relax, Arnoldo. You have ME on your side remember? I can come up with way smoother lies than you can.”

Arnold sighed, running a hand through his hair. “About that, Helga. Do we really need to keep the lie up? It’s getting exhausting. And if we have to keep this up, it’s just going to be ridiculously hard to keep track.”

Helga stopped laughing, averting her gaze, her hand rising up to clench at her shoulder. “Arnold…please. I don’t want us to be public knowledge yet. I’ve…not been the nicest person. If people besides you realize I have this gooey center, then…” She sighs, and Arnold leans forward, gently grasping her hands. “You don’t understand. Everyone would understand what I see in you. You’re you. But what do you see in me? That’s a sharp razor to swallow. I can’t deal with them asking ‘Gosh, Arnold are you sure you should be dating HER? What if she hits you or something? You’ll end up on COPS by the time you’re 21!’” She sneered, and Arnold couldn’t help but snicker at her imitation of Rhonda’s voice.

Arnold rolled his eyes. “You’re still an amazing person, Helga. Anyone’s going to be able to tell you’re happier with me.”

“Ugh, Arnold, that’s not the point! I’ve spent my entire life cultivating this image of someone who hates everyone. So if I act like a jerk, no one bats an eye. But if they realize I’m doing it for a stupid reason, then they’re going to judge me, not for being with you, but for being such a jerk in the first place. Everyone just accepts that I’m some demon seed sent to torment them. If I suddenly turn into Little Miss Melts Into a Puddle of Goo whenever you’re around…”

He didn’t speak for a moment, just squeezing her hand. “I understand. I think I can keep it up.” He then steps closer, his eyes turning half-lidded. “But enough about that, we pretty much have the next couple of hours to ourselves. We have all the time in the world.”

Helga lets loose a lovesick giggle, her blue eyes boring into Arnold’s green before he leans up to kiss her and she leans down to meet him in the middle. The rest of the night is spent inside a local pizza place, with the pair of them sneaking into his room together after to enjoy each other’s company.

Which brings them to now. Arnold’s little stunt bought the pair about a month, but even Helga could see that it was beginning to wear on her beau. He was awful at keeping secrets at the best of times, but having to keep his story straight is requiring more and more effort on his part. So often when he’s with her he’s not focusing on her but on maintaining his story, and that is something Helga G. Pataki simply cannot abide.

She’d snuck into the boarding house from the fire escape, intending to give her football-headed paramour a surprise, when she discovered it. She slid into his room via the skylight and blinked wildly as she saw an absolutely massive spreadsheet on his computer screen. It was an incredibly detailed analysis of a charity organization that didn’t exist. Reasons why he had to leave any social engagement for her spider-webbed out, including dinners, investigations, intern work. Names of leaders, prominent people, and even an entire command structure including mission statement and ethos. There was even a plan to renovate that abandoned lot all by himself! Her hands gently rose to clasp around her locket in shock.

“Criminy…” She muttered, utterly entranced at the lengths he was going to…for her.

‘Alright, this has gone on far enough, sister.’ Her brain cried out. ‘We’re breaking Arnold’s heart over this. He’s too honest and pure for this secrecy! We gotta let it all out!’

‘No way! If Arnold’s going to all this effort, we’ve got to make it worth it! Quick, seduce him!’

‘ARE YOU INSANE?’

‘...Yes, and?’ Helga’s inner thoughts waged a war with each other as she stared at the computer screen, eyes wide and face slowly turning pink. It isn’t until the door opens and Arnold steps through wearing nothing but a bathrobe, fuzzy slippers, and his hat that she snaps out of it, although now she’s staring for an entirely different reason.

“...Helga…?” He asked, his own face turning pink. “What are you doing here?”

“I…I was coming to surprise you.” She mumbled, unable to keep herself from staring at his body, the faint definition of his abs as he slowly tied his robe shut making her let loose a swoon and fall backwards onto his bed. Arnold just rolled his eyes good-naturedly and used her momentarily stunned state to throw on a shirt and a pair of shorts. By the time she came back to earth he was fully-clothed. “Spoilsport.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, Helga.” He snickers, striding over to the bed and sitting next to her, placing a hand on her thigh, and Helga feels electricity shoot up her spine.

“Arnold, before we do anything…” She sighs. “You’ve been doing a lot for me, and I don’t think I’ve been reciprocating fairly.”

Arnold blinks. “What, the community garden thing? No, it’s–” But she holds up a hand, quieting him.

“Being so duplicitous isn’t like you, my love.” She whispered, her hand moving forward to cup his cheek, and she smiled as he leaned into it. “You’re running yourself into the ground for me, Arnold. I didn’t ask you to.”

“I know.” He answers, his tone light, and he relaxes just a bit more and Helga can see the tiredness in his eyes. “I…I don’t like pretending you’re not the best thing in my life.” The simple statement catches Helga completely off-guard. Her smile turns wobbly and lovesick and she sighs once more before quickly regaining control of herself.

“Alright then. We can stop.”

Arnold blinks. “Stop?”

“The lies, the deceit, the treachery…” Helga elaborates, and Arnold’s smile quickly grows to nearly split his face in half as she continues. “All of this hullabaloo over an imaginary organization that doesn’t exist just so you can spend time with me without anyone noticing! I’m done with it, Arnold! I thought I enjoyed the control, the lack of eyes, the lack of gossip, but what I truly enjoy is my beloved not looking like he is about to be tried for a crime he didn’t commit! The only crime we’ve committed is one of passion, my darling! So we will confess to this crime! We’ll face the masses! Let them gasp, let them faint in an overdramatic manner, let them gossip all they wish! You are worth any risk of mockery and public outcry, my dearly beloved Arnold, and I’m tired of pretending you’re not!”

At the end of her monologue, Arnold’s only response was a sly grin that showed just how happy he was to hear such an emotional outburst from her, gently holding her hand and leaning down to kiss her. “Whatever you say, my beloved.” And Helga swooned once more.

Arnold was in love with Helga G. Pataki. That feeling in San Lorenzo hit him like a ton of bricks, but he refused to run from his feelings. Helga had literally and figuratively given him her heart, and he just couldn’t ignore it.

Being with Helga was…exhilirating. Unlike any other girl he’d ever spent time with. She was smart, funny, adventurous, and knew how to have fun. A lot of people in their lives thought Arnold was some paragon of virtue and would enjoy nothing more than staring at paint dry and subsisting on nothing but good deeds, but Helga knew him better than that. She knew he liked to take risks and have fun and explore everything life had to offer.

But her desire for secrecy had worn him thin until now, when she actually gave him the go ahead to reveal their relationship to their friends. That was a load off his mind. But the problem was the logistics. The idea was to minimize drama, so like everything Helga did, they had to plan this out.

Arnold loved that about her.

“Man, you’re so smart.” He’d said as she arrived one day after school to plan the reveal. “I would’ve just come out and said it.”

“And I love that impulsivity, football head, but this situation requires a bit more tact.” Helga had snapped, looking around conspiratorially before ducking into his house and heading for his room, and he followed her with a smile. When she headed up the stairs and flopped onto the bed, letting loose a sigh. “Alright. So, let’s plan this.”

Arnold blinked. “So why can’t we just tell them all at once?” He asked, and he could only smile like a dope as Helga rolled her eyes.

“Because Arnold, pushing everyone into Gerald Field and announcing it is just going to make everyone gossip IMMEDIATELY. You really think you can deal with Sid claiming you’ve lost your mind while Rhondaloid posts everything on social media at the same time?”

Arnold shuddered. “Good point.” He sat next to her, playing with the hair tucked behind her ear, an action that made her shudder and blush. “So, what about just pulling them aside during school, or at the arcade or something?”

“Messy.” Helga replied. “Then we’d get a mix of reactions. And people would probably notice that Gerald and Phoebs aren’t reacting. We’d need to explain everything so many times.”

Arnold put a hand to his chin, thinking. “What about if–” And then Helga’s phone went off.

She lifted her bright pink phone and scowled. “Ugh, Rhondaloid is throwing a girls only party.” She sneered, tossing her phone away. “All the girls are invited. No stupid makeovers thankfully. Seems she just wants to binge the new season of Babewatch with us. No thanks, I’d rather eat glass.”

She began to text out a negative, when Arnold placed his hand on hers. “Helga, wait. This is perfect.”

“Huh?” She blinked.

“Think about it. If it’s girls only, none of the guys will be there.” Arnold explained in a hushed tone. Helga blinked, her eyes opening wider as she put the pieces together.

“Rhonda will want details and timelines, and I can give out exactly how much info I want without our other friends getting in the way…or you. No offense, football head.” Helga explained.

“I can organize a guy’s night here. I can deal with the guy’s jokes without you needing to stick around for them to judge.” 

“It’s almost too perfect…” Helga muttered, hand to her chin. “You explain to the boys, I talk to the girls, and it’s all fine. By the time they all see each other, the drama should die down.”

Arnold smiled and looked back down to Helga’s phone. “So…are you going to Rhonda’s party or not?”

Helga couldn’t help but smile back as she banged out a quick text saying she’d be there. “Don’t get cocky on me, Arnoldo. If your head swells up any more I’ll have to tie mooring ropes to your ankles, lest you take off like a blimp.”

Arnold snorted at the imagery. “Whatever you say, Helga.” He smirked, taking out his own phone to invite the guys for a Saturday night game of cards.

For once, their plans made perfect sense.

Helga is not a fan of girl’s nights. But Phoebe has reassured her that this one won’t be like the one Rhonda threw when they were nine, so she arrives in her usual outfit, banging her fist on Rhonda’s door.

The rich girl almost throws the door open, a smirk on her face that Helga oh-so wishes she could slap off. “Welcome to my humble abode, Helga. Finally decided to show up for one of my soirees, hm?”

Helga rolled her eyes and stomped forward, Rhonda calmly stepping out of the way. “I’m only here because Phoebe promised you wouldn’t do those ridiculous face masks. You got any snacks?” She asks as she enters. Rhonda’s house is of course opulent to the extreme for their town, full of antique furniture, fancy tables, art on the walls, but Helga is simply led by Rhonda to the living room, where Nadine, Lila, Phoebe, and Patty all sit on large couch and chairs pushed to the center of the room, a large table filled with snacks sits. “Wow, actual food.” Helga snarks. “No overly-prepared hors d'oeuvres this time?”

“Oh come off it, Helga.” Rhonda’s reply is affectionate instead of defensive. “I know you like the hors d'oeuvres at my other parties. But no, this is a girl’s night, not a party, and as such completely different items are served.”

Helga actually smiles and sits next to Phoebe, who beams at her for navigating that social interaction with grace instead of defensiveness. “I’m glad you came, Helga.” She chirps.

“Hey Helga.” Patty is sitting in a recliner, reminding Helga way too much of her dad during a football game. “Ready to watch some babes?” And her tone is so flat and dry that Helga actually lets loose a laugh that makes the entire room erupt in giggles.

“It’s ever-so good to see you Helga! It feels like it’s been forever since we spoke outside of school!” Lila greeted, and Helga nodded politely.

“Hey Gals. So long as you got popcorn, I’m all for it.” Helga flops onto the couch as Rhonda grabs the remote.

The show is simply WAY too cheesy. Helga isn’t nine anymore, so her brief fantasies of her and Arnold running down the beach, exchanging movie star grins and flashy winks just aren’t appealing anymore, especially not when she’s had the real thing. But the time with her friends lets her relax a bit. Between Nadine spotting a crab on the beach and going on about crustaceans basically being bugs that live in the ocean and getting into a taxonomy debate with Phoebe, Rhonda fawning over the (admittedly) pretty attractive male lifeguard who joins the show midway through the season, and Patty’s dry commentary, Helga has a good time.

“I love you.” Chief Lifeguard Tyler says to Head Lifeguard Liz amid the tireless sound of ambulance sirens as fifteen-year-old Junior Lifeguard Johnny was loaded into a stretcher.

“This isn’t the right time!” Liz replies, throwing her hair despite not having stepped into the water for one single second.

“There’s never the right time! Life is too short, and I can’t go a single second without you anymore!” And then he swept her into her arms and passionately made out in a completely not-rehearsed way.

“Jeez, how corny can you get?” Helga sneered, tossing some popcorn into her mouth. She related maybe a bit more than she was supposed to.

“This really isn’t realistic at all.” Lila mutters. “I get the need for melodrama, but no one would be making out right now. A kiss, maybe?”

“Oh but Johnny! Are they writing him out of the show?” Rhonda asked, eyes large and watery.

“Why?” Patty asked dryly. “Plan on sending him some fanmail?”

“Why not? He’s a capable actor, just completely wasted on this show. He’s destined for great things!” Rhonda sniffed.

“Rhonda, no offense, but you have AWFUL taste in men.” Nadine couldn’t help but giggle. “I hate to tell you, but almost every boy you’ve ever been interested in has either been sent to juvie or they’ve just proven completely not your type. Remember your fling with Lorenzo?”

Rhonda stiffened before leveling Nadine with a glare. “Lorenzo was a perfect gentleman I’ll have you know. He just…has a startup that demands his focus.”

Helga snorted. “Yeah, because he’s been acting like he’s thirty since we’ve met him. Please, Rhondaloid. Find an actually good man for once.”

“Oh really?” Rhonda sneered, crossing her arms. “Nadine, remember YOUR little rendezvous with Torvald?” That got everyone to stop and look at her.

“R-Rhonda! I told you that in confidence!” The blonde gasped, hands over her mouth. “Besides, it didn’t last long. He was interested in bugs, but I just can’t handle how much he struggled to understand the most basic of emotional concepts. That boy needs therapy, not a boyfriend.”

“Geez, Nadine. Harsh.” Patty says dryly, taking another pull of her soda, gently resting the can on a coaster. “Harold is pretty immature, but he always tries to understand at least.” Helga’s heart rate began to quicken as she realized that the girls were talking more in depth about boys than she’d planned. ‘Criminy, why does it always have to be so damn scary?’ She mentally grouses.

“It seems you two really are unlucky.” Phoebe adds with a shrug. “Gerald is a very attentive date. He doesn’t know what I’m talking about half the time, but he always tries. He’s even learning Japanese so we can communicate in secret code, as he calls it.” And Helga can’t help the spike of jealousy with Phoebe being so open. They really were opposites.

“And what about you, Helga? Any daring late night dates with a rugged young man? Perhaps a grizzled bad boy in a motorcycle jacket?” Rhonda asked, rolling onto her stomach.

Helga rolled her eyes and took a swig of her soda. “Please. As if any man could handle Helga G. Pataki. And for the record, even if I were interested in someone like that, I certainly wouldn’t be sneaking out at night to go see him. I’m not some stupid bimbo from shows like Babewatch, Rhondaloid.”

Rhonda smirked, and Helga knew that smirk. The smirk of a shark sensing blood in the water. “Really? Not even with Brainy? He’s made no secret of how he feels about you.”

Helga snorted. “Please. He’s not my type. I’ve made that clear to him and he’s accepted that.”

Rhonda pouted at being so outmaneuvered and dug her hand into the popcorn bowl on Nadine’s lap. “Well, it could be worse, you could have some useless, creepy hanger-on like Curly.”

“Oh my, Rhonda, he’s still not taking no for an answer is he?” Lila asked. Helga looked at her, and while Rhonda launched into an overdramatic retelling of whatever weirdly unnecessary thing Curly did this week, Lila met her eyes and smiled.

Helga didn’t know Lila too personally. Jealousy, and then apathy quickly led them to not want to talk with each other. She was one of the few who knew how Arnold felt earlier than most, giving up the part of Juliet just to allow Helga to kiss him while maintaining her cover. Her eyes roamed the room slowly as Rhonda prattled on. Patty was one of the first who clocked that Arnold and Helga were a thing, way back in fourth grade. You couldn’t lie to Patty, she saw through them way too easily. And she knew just how strongly Helga felt long before anyone else.

‘Dammit, she’s too smart for her own good.’ Helga seethed, getting her thoughts together. She was really only confessing to Nadine and Rhonda, no big deal. Just the biggest gossip hound of the school and her friend with her ear literally to the ground…looking for bugs, but still, Nadine heard everything going on in Hillwood. She turned her head, locking eyes with Phoebe, who just smiled before reaching over and patting Helga on the elbow.

She understood. Of course she understood. ‘Criminy I don’t deserve friends like them…’ 

Right as Rhonda finished telling the story of Curly once again trying to ask her out, Helga tuned back in, coughing into her hand. “...I might have a boyfriend.” She said in the smallest voice possible.

Everything stopped. Patty had her soda halfway to her lips, Rhonda had stopped mid-gesticulation, and Nadine’s jaw dropped.

“No. Way.” Rhonda was the first to speak, practically crawling toward Helga, and she was glad Phoebe subtly scooted before the affluent girl could get right in her face. “Helga Geraldine Pataki has a boytoy?”

“Boyfriend.” Helga emphasized, trying to keep herself from seething. “He’s not a toy. We’re fairly serious. Been together for a while.”

“A while?” Rhonda frowned, stepping forward, but Helga only returned a victorious smirk. “And you’ve kept it from me? Who could it possibly be?”

Helga decided to play a little coy. “I don’t feel like telling you, Princess. How about you guess?”

Rhonda’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, before finally backing up, crossing her arms. “Is it Stinky? I remember a brief thing you had in the fourth grade.”

Helga snorted with laughter. “Haha! No. He deserves a more down-to-earth girl than me.” She answered smoothly, examining her nails.

“Do we know them?” Lila asked, excited to participate.

“Yep!” Helga answered, popping the p. ‘Smart girl. Turn it into a game. Keep control. Just don’t chicken out and lie at the last second. Arnold would be disappointed if he went through with it but I didn’t.’ She thought semi-frantically.

“Is he in our year?” Nadine offered.

“Yepperooni.” Helga smiled, idly grabbing a peanut butter cup and tossing it in her mouth.

Patty raised an eyebrow. “What’s his head shaped like?” And Helga sputtered, almost choking on her candy. Patty smirked and leaned back in her chair, only saying, “Guess it’s not a normal head shape.”

“Well, that eliminates a few candidates…” Rhonda tapped her chin, and Helga was only emboldened by Phoebe giggling behind her hand.

‘Glad to know she’s enjoying this at least.’

“It’s not Eugene, right?” Nadine asked. “Sheena would be heartbroken.”

Helga could only laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’d give the poor guy a heart attack. Also I’m no expert, but I’m about 80% sure he’s gay.”

There was a smattering of discussion as Rhonda, Nadine, and Lila tried to puzzle it out. 

“Yes, he plays sports, but he prefers baseball.”

“No, it’s not Sid, he’s too paranoid.” 

“No, I’m not lying to you, I really do have a boyfriend.”

Helga answered the questions honestly, of course. Phoebe and Patty tried to keep it together, but with every question Rhonda asked (“No, he doesn’t own a yacht, Rhondaloid, I’m dating someone from our year, not your dad.”) the pair of them devolved into giggles.

“Okay, fun’s fun, but I’m ever-so certain that if I don’t answer we’ll be here all night.” Lila finally says, and Helga has to give it to her, the girl knows how to play the long game.

“Wait, you knew?” Rhonda asked, gasping in theatrical shock.

“Of course. If you know what to look for, it’s fairly obvious. Besides, Helga told me years ago.” Lila turned to Helga with a look that seemed innocent, but radiated pure smugness. “It’s Arnold.”

“ARNOLD!?” Rhonda and Nadine shouted as one.

Rhonda shook her head. “No way, Arnold would never date Helga!”

That got Helga to laugh. “So sure of yourself, are we?” And Patty, Phoebe, and Lila joined in.

Rhonda sniffed. “Well, I’ll just text him and ask him myself!”

“You can’t.” Helga responds breezily. “He’s having card game night with the boys like he does every other Saturday. They keep their phones off to not disturb the flow of the game. He’s probably giving them the same talk right now.”

Rhonda stopped, thumb hovering over the send button. “You are! O-M-G I can’t believe you’re dating ARNOLD!” She begins firing off another text, but Nadine gently plucks her phone out of her hand.

“How long has this been going on?” The blonde asks, and Helga shrugs.

“About three years. We got together after San Lorenzo.”

“I KNEW there was something different about you two! Everything felt so…forced.” Rhonda muttered, reaching for her phone, which Nadine was carefully keeping out of her hands.

The bug-obsessed blonde smiled. “I think it’s pretty sweet that you two are together, but uh…” she blushed, averting her eyes.

“She wants to ask how far you two have gone.” Patty intervened, and Helga’s face turned bright red.

“Nooooooooo way, I’m not answering that, especially around that chanel-wearing demon.” Helga sneers, jabbing a finger in Rhonda’s direction.

“Hey, I resent that!” Rhonda answers. “This is Versace!”

“So, you finally confessed your feelings for Arnold.” Lila sighed dreamily. “How is it with him?”

Helga blushed harder, if that were possible. “It’s…amazing. He’s the nicest guy I could’ve ever imagined.” Phoebe sensed a moment, and passed Helga a throw pillow, which she hugged, burying her face in it. “He’s the best. I’ve…really fallen in love with him.”

Such a vulnerable, honest answer stopped everyone. Slowly, everyone looked between each other.

“Ugh.” Rhonda sneered, tossing her own pillow at Helga. “Don’t brag just because you won the boyfriend lottery, Helgaloid.” Helga couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s awkward attempt to defuse the tension. “After all this schmaltz, I’m ready for a change of pace. Who wants to see the new Evil Twin on Blu-Ray?”

Helga let out an exhale as all the girls agreed, dropping the subject of boys for the time being. Phoebe reached out and squeezed Helga’s shoulder, quietly offering her support.

Guess she really didn’t have much to worry about after all.

Arnold couldn’t help but gulp down a lump in his throat as the boys filtered in for a card game night. Stinky came in first, wearing a poker visor. He always took the games a bit too seriously, even if the most they bet was a Mr. Fudgy bar or a favor. Sid came next, followed by Harold, and finally Gerald, and Arnold couldn’t help but notice a few marks on his neck. For once, Arnold sent his best friend a knowing glance, and Gerald just rolled his eyes and smiled, pulling his hoodie up to hide the hickeys as they pulled out the folding table for the game.

“Alright boys, the name of the game is Tycoon!” Stinky proclaimed as the cards were dealt. The conversation flowed naturally for the first hour or so. Arnold tried to come up with a time to talk about things, but every time he opened his mouth, Harold would belch and Gerald would scold them. The game changes to their traditional Texas Hold ‘Em poker once the warmups have been had, and Arnold sees his chance.

“So guys, I–” He tries to interrupt, but he himself is interrupted by Harold shoving his chips into the pot with a menacing grin.

“I’m ALL IN, baby!” Harold roars, about two seconds away from thumping his chest like a gorilla. “I got a GOOD feeling about this hand!”

Arnold meets his bet, and doesn’t look surprised when Harold was completely bust on the third hand on a pair of threes while Arnold had three kings. Arnold passes him his chips back after the hand, rolling his eyes.

Arnold continued to try and build up the courage, and a tiny voice in his head seemed to materialize in his head, sounding quite like his pigtailed paramour. ‘Just tell them football head! It’s not so hard! You’re the one who wanted this, so just SAY IT!’

Arnold frowned, putting his cards face down on the table and leaning forward. “Guys I–”

“Fold.” Stinky said immediately, tossing his cards immediately. At Arnold’s blink of confusion, Stinky shrugged. “You got that real determined look in your eye. You only do that when you got a good hand.”

Sid threw his hand away too. “Boy howdy, Arnold, you must’ve gotten a huge hand.” Arnold quickly looked at his cards, having nothing. Harold and Gerald tossed their cards away, folding just like Arnold’s resolve.

It takes until they run out of snacks and Harold complains that things finally progress. Arnold steps downstairs, takes a deep breath, and gathers himself as he grabs the snacks and heads back upstairs. The next few games are tense. Sid folds five times in a row because Arnold can’t stop looking so focused. For a second, he daydreams, imagining himself the size of a bug, skittering between towers of chips being pushed around like a neverending labyrinth, with only a telltale trail of pink fabric guiding him towards the exit…

“Hey, Arnold!” Gerald calls, and Arnold blinks back to reality. Everyone has pushed their chips into the pot, with only Arnold remaining. “Are you in or out man?”

“I’ve been dating Helga for three years.” He blurts out. Everything stops. Stinky’s poker visor slides over his eyes. Harold’s hand stops inches from putting another chip in his mouth, crumbs falling off his lips. Sid’s jaw drops.

“Congratulations.” Gerald answers in as dry a tone as possible. “Now, are you in?”

“Wait, you KNEW!?” Sid explodes, and Gerald sighs, leaning back in his chair, his hopes for a quiet poker night swirling down the drain.

“I mean, the fifth time I caught them making out in the janitor’s closet in school was a bit of a giveaway.” Gerald shrugs, and Arnold’s face goes pink.

“You and Madame Fortress Mommy? Making out? GROSS!” Harold makes a face like he just tried to swallow a lemon whole.

“Wilikers.” Is all Stinky says, eyes wide, reaching up and scratching his wispy goatee. “I reckon it makes sense though. She’s a helluva gal, that Helga.”

“You guys are taking this way too calmly!” Sid reacts in utter panic, eyes wide. “How did they keep this a secret from us for three years?”
“Well, there was that community garden initiative…I made that up.” Arnold answered with a guilty smile.

That makes Sid sputter and almost spill his drink with his flailing. “You? Lied? To US!?”

“Holy cow, she must really have you wrapped around her finger, Arnold.” Harold muttered, sounding more impressed than anything else.

“Golly Arnold, I’m surprised she’d make you go that far to hide it.”

“Actually…that was entirely my idea, Stinky.”

“Wilikers…” Stinky repeats in shock.

Sid is still sputtering when Gerald smacks him in the back of the head, which seems to factory reset the shorter boy, who readjusts his hat and looks…jealous? “Man, I can’t ever say that I expected you and Helga to get together. Mind giving me some tips on picking up girls? I’ve struck out with nearly every girl in our grade.”

“Oooooh no!” Gerald interrupts. “I came here to play cards, not talk about relationships. We’re really happy and supportive that you’re swapping spit with Pataki, Arnold, but ARE. YOU. IN!?”

Arnold lets loose a loud belly laugh and throws his cards into the table face up. “Nah, I’m out.”

And the card game resumes as normal. No one brings up Helga or relationships for the rest of the night, and the only pushback Arnold receives is after Harold, Stinky, and Sid leave, leaving Arnold and Gerald to clean up the mess, as is their custom.

“You have the worst timing in the world, Arnold, I swear to god.” Gerald mutters, and Arnold dissolves into laughter right then and there.

He thought that went well.

On Monday, Arnold and Gerald bump into Helga and Phoebe at the corner next to the bus stop as usual. Phoebe and Gerald lock hands like they do every day. Arnold offers his to Helga, and she lets out a lovesick sigh before taking it.

As they ascend the steps of the bus, Helga braces herself for jeers or questions. But none came. Rhonda is bragging about her newest outfit to Nadine, who’s pretending to be listening while reading her latest entomology book. Harold is eating his weight in chocolate malt balls while Sid and Stinky cheer him on. Eugene and Sheena notice them, but seem to be too engrossed in their discussion about the latest production of Hairspray to pay much thought to them.

The entire trip to PS 118, Helga braced herself for the interrogation to come. But as they enter the halls and Arnold refuses to let go of her hand, it never arrives. Students mill about, enjoying their morning. Arnold struggles to open his locker like he does every morning, turning and giving her an encouraging smile, and Helga feels her distinctive scowl slowly melt into something far more neutral.

Gerald gives Arnold their secret handshake and wanders off to class, while Phoebe shoots Helga their universal glance of ‘Not making a big deal out of it but I’m happy for you’ which additionally sets Helga’s mind at ease.

No one says a thing when Helga subtly asks Sid (politely!) to switch seats with her so she can sit next to him. No one utters a damn word when Arnold passes her a pen when she asks for it.

It’s all so…normal.

By lunchtime, that’s when Helga’s expecting people to be all over them. But no one does. Instead, as she and Arnold sit next to each other, Rhonda complains about the quality of the cafeteria pizza. Harold asks for her slice and she defends it like a starving cat. 

Sid asks if anyone’s done the latest math homework and is begging for help.

Stinky simply sits back and relaxes, enjoying his favorite lemon pudding.

Iggy walks up to them, examining them closely, and Helga’s breath catches, her hand squeezing Arnold’s hard beneath the table.

“So…you and Helga are a thing now?” He asks. Helga’s face goes red, and Arnold squeezes her hand back.

“Yeah, we are.” He responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“...Cool.” And Iggy wandered off. No dramatic pointing, no questions. People just…minding their business.

Helga finally exhales, and Arnold looks at her worriedly. She grasps her locket like a lifeline, not noticing just how tightly the spring around her heart had been wound.

“You okay?” He says, low enough so that only she could hear it.

“Yeah…I’m okay.” She answers, and finally lets the shroud of fear around her dissipate.

It’s not until the free period after lunch that Curly finally catches on, stopping midway to the foursquare court when he sees Helga and Arnold standing close to each other…too close. Arnold says something to the group and Helga smirks, and that’s confirmation enough for him.

He lets out a theatrical gasp as he sees their hands clasped together and runs up, pointing a dramatic finger at them. “Explain this development immediately!” He demands.

Helga audibly groans. Arnold waves. “Uh…Hi Curly.”

Curly spins to Rhonda. “Are you not seeing this, my darling?” Rhonda sneers in response, but Curly just soldiers on. “The closeness? The proximity? The VIBES?”

Gerald shrugs. “They’ve been close since San Lorenzo man. Everyone knows that.”

“This is different!” Curly almost shrieks. “This is…ROMANTIC ADJACENCY!”

“That’s not a real word, Curly.” Phoebe adjusts her glasses.

“Look, shrimp.” Helga finally answers. “Unless you’re going to do something entertaining, you’d best keep it moving.”

Stinky checks his watch. “I think the bell’s about to ring, fellers.”

Curly looks around wildly. Rhonda’s already focusing on her latest selfie with Nadine. Harold’s already thinking about dinner. His eyes flick to Helga and Arnold, who just shrug.

Finally, Curly slumps, defeated. “You guys have no appreciation for dramatic developments.”

“Or maybe we just enjoy minding our own business, man. Just drop it.” Gerald sighs.

Curly frowns and points at his eyes, and then at Helga and Arnold. “This isn’t over. I’ll be watching you.” And then runs off.

“What a sad, twisted, bug-eyed, demented little freak.” Helga snorts in amusement.

“That’s what I’ve been saying for FOREVER Helga!” Rhonda concurs, and the entire group busts out laughing.

As the bell rings and everyone moves on like her world hasn’t totally shifted, Helga leans down and actually pecks Arnold on the cheek. No one says anything, and Helga comes to a realization that’s strange, but steadies her resolve into something unbreakable.

Her life isn’t everyone’s spectator sport.

It’s just hers.