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Helga lay awake in her bed, looking at the clock which was currently flashing 1 AM. She tried to sleep, she really did, but every time she tried, she could only see wild blonde hair and soft green eyes, and she ended up with the covers over her face and her legs kicking wildly. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t stop smiling as the revelation of her entire life kept smacking her in the face. Arnold knew about her crush. Arnold liked her back. They were together now. An item. Arnold was her boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
The word rattled around in her skull like a cue ball on a pool table. Sure the flight home after San Lorenzo had been crazy, and of course his parents had monopolized his time, but as the Shortmans all piled into the Packard, Arnold had given her that smile, that thrice-damned smile that made her smile and her knees wobbly, and simply said “I’ll see you tomorrow Helga.” No, it hadn’t been like her fantasies, with fireworks and violins, but somehow that just made it better. A squeal threatened to claw its way up her throat as she remembered, but she quickly grabbed her pillow and slammed it over her face to muffle it. This was it. The one thing she’d ever wanted for years, for as long as she could remember. Years of poetry, shrines, mental and emotional anguish, and birthday wishes had all finally been made worth it with the simple act of true love at the shrine of the Corazon. Arnold was her boyfriend. A single thought came to her mind then in that darkness.
‘I cannot, in any way, screw this up.’
She pulled the covers off her face, her giddy grin now sharpened into a frown. Arnold liked her, and not in some wishy-washy idealistic way like he did Ruth or Lila. He just…liked her. He accepted her feelings and smiled at them, probably thinking they were cute or something. But Helga’s feelings couldn’t be truly communicated, at least, not without making a massive mess of everything, and that was precisely what Helga was afraid of. The idea of Arnold liking her, and being affectionate towards her, threatened to destroy the carefully constructed dam holding back the Colorado River that was her love. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew her obsession wasn’t what most people would call healthy. Volumes and volumes of poetry, collections of his items and things that just REMINDED her of him turned into ghastly art projects. The full force of her could threaten to completely bowl him over. She wasn’t going to let that happen. She wasn’t going to let the first genuinely good thing that happened to her in years be ruined by her being so much of a weirdo that it made her football-headed beau jump directly into traffic. She just had to…pace herself. Act like a normal girlfriend instead of a completely obsessed loon. She could do that, she could be normal…or at least normal-adjacent. “I can do this. I can totally do this. I’m going to be perfectly relaxed and normal with Arnold when I see him tomorrow.” She nodded resolutely, rolling over in bed. “Yeah, that’s what’s going to happen. Easy, piece of cake.” Completely unbidden, the thought of Arnold reaching over and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear that afternoon hit her mind. She immediately grabbed her pillow and screamed into it.
The next morning, Helga walked to school with the focus of a soldier on a mission. She’d created an airtight plan of action. Step One: Act normal, Step Two: Act casual, Step Three…well, there was no step three, but she was committed to it, and if she failed, well, she was going to go down with the ship, so to speak. She rounded the corner and her heart was already doing a few rounds of calisthenics. Arnold was leaning against the steps of PS 118, arms crossed and smiling. At her.
“Hey Helga.” He waved, walking up to her so calmly that she swore he was doing it on purpose. “Gerald and Phoebe went on ahead. I thought I’d stay here and wait for you.”
Helga blinked “Y-You were waiting for me…?” Arnold nodded and his smile got a bit wider, that damned smile she always dreamed of him aiming at her. However, she simply put her hands on her hips, scowling. “Why?”
Arnold shrugged. “You said you usually get here about now.” Helga could swear her heart stopped. He was noticing the things she said? Was that new, or was he just always like this and now he actually had an excuse to say it?
Helga responded by crossing her arms defensively. “Don’t make a habit of it, football head.” She scoffed, avoiding his eyes.
In response, Arnold simply walked up to her, shrugged and said. “I’ll try. And probably fail.” And then reached forward to take her hand, and Helga’s heart completely stopped. Instantly, all of her bones went into fight or flight mode, her eyes going wide and her face turning bright red.
She quickly yanked her hand back. “Who said you could touch me?” She barked, eyes narrowed.
Arnold responded with a simple shrug. “Sorry Helga. Can I hold your hand?” He asked politely, and Helga’s already ticking timebomb of a brain suddenly got about ten seconds closer to zero.
She scoffed and held out her hand dramatically. “I guess if you’re so desperate for it, hair boy, then I can oblige.” Arnold’s smile became a mile wide and he took her hand again, looking like he’d just won a cash prize. Helga struggled to keep herself under control as she saw him laugh, not at her, but with her. They slowly entered the halls, watching as Gerald and Phoebe casually leaned against the lockers and smiled at them as they passed by, and for a second Helga was bitterly jealous. They didn’t have years and years of pining, poetry, and madness to hold back that made it so hard to actually enjoy this new development.
Arnold seemed to notice, and Helga noticed his eyes lit up and GOD it was just so cute when he looked her way. “Are you nervous, Helga?” He asked gently.
Helga scoffed. “No.” She lied. “I hate to disappoint you football head. I’m made of tougher stuff than to get all flustered and go completely gaga over something as ridiculous as hand-holding.” Arnold just kept up that damn infuriatingly handsome smile as they stopped at her locker. Helga’s hands shook the tiniest amount, but she luckily didn’t mess up something as pedestrian as inputting her locker combination. She began to pull out her books, and Arnold gently took them from her hands and held them with a smile. “Alright, thanks for holding them for a second, Arnoldo, hand ‘em over.”
To her surprise, Arnold took a step back. “Would you mind if I carried them to class for you?” For a second, Helga was completely stunned, not that Arnold would do such a thing, but that he would ask.
“I’m not such a limp-wristed weakling that I can’t carry three books a grand total of a hundred and fifty feet, Arnoldo.” She sneered, glaring at him. But Arnold didn’t waver under her gaze, as if he ever did.
Instead, he just shrugged. “I want to carry your books. I’m your boyfriend now, shouldn’t it be normal to do stuff like this?” Normal. The word settled deep in Helga’s brain and exploded, and before she could stop herself, she let out a loud lovesick sigh.
“Oh Arnold~” She purred, not even really paying attention to him anymore and just allowing herself a moment, not realizing that the dam was cracking until she looked at her boyfriend and saw the mile wide smile gracing his face before she quickly shook her head to rid herself of the traitorous thoughts. “I MEAN whatever floats your lily, football head. Just don’t drop them or you’ll look like a total wuss.”
“Whatever you say Helga.” Was Arnold’s blase reply, walking to Mr. Simmons’ classroom, with Helga following next to him, trying frantically to get her frantically-beating heart under control. That was close. She’d nearly let the dam break after a single day. And at school of all things! All because Arnold– Stupid, idiotic, AMAZING Arnold– was being so…openly mushy! She wasn’t used to this sort of thing, so unprepared was she for the very concept of Arnold returning her feelings that he managed to completely worm his way around her defenses so easily she didn’t even notice it!
‘Okay, just keep it together Helga. Keep yourself under control. You can’t go losing it on the FIRST DAY.’
Little did she know how bad it was really going to get.
A few days later, Helga was beginning to feel like she had the situation under control. Not good, not confident, just like she was not about to lose her mind when Arnold showed her the slightest bit of affection, and she absolutely counted that as a win. Granted there had been a few…incidents. When he grabbed her hand in the middle of class. When everyone discovered them having a date at Slausen’s. When he complimented her hair despite wearing it the same way every single day. She’d carefully managed her expectations and had successfully avoided a complete meltdown. Sure there’d been a few lovesick sighs, trembling smiles, red faces, and more than her fair share of thousand yard stares, and one instance where she’d had to hide in the janitor’s closet squealing and twirling because Arnold had called her cute. Little cracks, but easily repairable.
‘I can do this. I’ve got this, easy as pie, just like I thought.’ She thought to herself as Phoebe, Gerald, Arnold, and herself sat down to have lunch at the cafeteria. She watched as Arnold talked to Gerald about whatever mishap their friends had gotten themselves into today, and occasionally, he’d glance her way. Every single time he did, his eyes went all doe-y and soft and Helga had to avert her gaze to keep her heart beating at a reasonable speed. Gerald let out a comical, exaggerated gag, and Phoebe giggled behind her hand.
“...and then Harold trips, knocking poor Eugene right into Sheena and nearly breaking his ankle from tripping.” Gerald finished his tale.
“Man, poor guy.” Arnold answered, but he was chuckling despite himself. Helga covered her mouth with a hand and let out a laugh. Well, it was more like a giggle, and Arnold noticed because of course he noticed. He turned toward her with that same smile. “You have a really nice laugh, Helga.” She froze, eyes wide, struggling to come up with a response. He said things like that all the time now, little things that made her want to write volumes and volumes of poetry and kneel before her latest shrine because it meant Arnold was noticing her. And not just in a boyfriend way, but in a way that resembled– No. She dared not vocalize that thought even in her head. There was no way. Arnold leaned forward, a thoughtful frown on his face. “You stopped drinking the chocolate milk.” He says quietly. Everyone at the table fixes him with an incredulous look.
Helga blinked at him, then looked at the tiny carton of 2% milk sitting on her tray. “I just got tired of chocolate.”
“Didn’t they change suppliers recently?” Arnold asked. Phoebe nodded, and Arnold grabbed his own milk and took a sip, making a face. “Blech, too sweet.”
“Man, Arnold, how did you know that?” Gerald asked, and Helga held her breath because she wanted to know too.
Arnold simply shrugged. “I dunno, I just…noticed.”
Gerald stared at him, eyebrow raised. “Man…” Meanwhile, Helga couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading through her body because she knew exactly what was happening and what Gerald was seeing. She’d spent years staring at Arnold, keeping track of him, his likes, his dislikes, his routines, and she would extensively catalog all of it, and now…now? He was doing the same thing to her. A normal person would be alarmed by it, but Helga was not a normal person. Instead, every time Arnold pointed out some obscure fact about her that he just noticed by being observant, it made the carefully constructed containment system she’d placed around her heart crack, and she had absolutely no way to get around that. She started paying attention again right when Gerald shook his head. “You know that’s weird as heck, right man?”
Arnold shrugged. “Is it? I’m just noticing things about my girlfriend.”
“You don’t see me noticing things like that about Phoebe, man!” Gerald retorted. “That’s a bit crazy!” Helga’s eyes flicked to Phoebe, who looked very politely interested in the ceiling. This was dangerous, extremely so. Because every time Arnold said something like that, it made her want to show him everything. The shrines, the poetry, every collected piece of paraphernalia, and every single thought. She took a few deep breaths, which of course Arnold noticed, and she managed to get her heartbeat under control slowly, but surely.
“Anyway, I brought some snacks for us today.” Gerald reached into his lunchbag and began pulling out yahoos, apples, and…Arnold moved instantly, almost diving over the table to grab the lunch bag. “HOLY–! Arnold, what’s gotten into you man!?” Gerald asked.
“Did you seriously get strawberries Gerald?” Arnold asked, and Helga’s eyes just about popped out of her head.
“Yeah, so?” Gerald asked, completely flummoxed as Arnold held onto the lunch bag like it was on fire.
“Helga’s allergic to strawberries, Gerald!” Arnold snapped. At Gerald’s sheepish look, Arnold sighed and hauled him up. “Come on, we need to get rid of these. And wash our hands.”
“Criminy Arnoldo, seriously, my allergy isn’t that serious. I can exist next to strawberries. It’s only a problem if I eat them.” Helga pleaded, but Arnold wasn’t having it.
“I’ve got this, Helga.” He says calmly, herding Gerald away to the bathrooms to disinfect him.
Once they were gone, Phoebe gave Helga a look. “Helga…did you ever tell Arnold that you were allergic?”
Helga’s lips slowly curled into a hazy lovesick smile. “I didn’t…” She sighed, regaining her wits in time to hold her head in her hands and groan.
Phoebe pulled out a book and began to read as she waited for their significant others to return. “Are you okay?” She asked without losing her place in the book.
“No.” Helga groaned back.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“No.” And Phoebe accepted that answer. How could Helga talk about it when that damned Football Head kept doing so many blasted romantic things that were determined to make her crack? She could barely take it as it is, and Arnold just kept pushing her!
‘I am so unbearably screwed.’
A week later, Phoebe found Helga at the park nearby after school, pacing around a large tree with her hands behind her back. She was an old hand at reading Helga’s mood, and she could tell Helga was working herself up into a downright tizzy. Phoebe watched her best friend for a second, before slowly leaning her back against the sturdy trunk and opening her book. “Talk to me, Helga. What’s wrong?”
Helga circled the tree three times before finally answering. “He’s getting…weirder.”
Phoebe adjusted her glasses calmly. “I assume we’re talking about Arnold?”
“No, we're talking about Bob--Of COURSE we’re talking about Arnold, Phoebs!” Helga responded, throwing her hands up in the air as the pace of her pacing began to pick up. “I could deal with him acting all lovey-dovey with me, I’m his first real girlfriend, I understand that, I can plan for that, but this…THIS is just madness. I figured if he kept things normal, I could keep things normal. Normal relationship, normal regulation, a perfect, nay, foolproof plan.”
Phoebe made a noncommittal noise and turned a page in her book. “No offense meant, Helga, but your ‘foolproof’ plans usually do not go well.”
“Not the point, Phoebs. The point is that this time, this one time, it’s not MY fault! It’s all him! He’s making it impossible for me to control myself with how he’s acting!” Helga groaned, grabbing her pigtails and pulling gently. “Yesterday, he was waiting on my stoop. He said he noticed I left the house at exactly seven-thirty.”
Phoebe raised an eyebrow. “Exactly seven-thirty?”
“Exactly.” Helga nodded. “That’s not even the weird part.” She continued, ignoring her best friend’s inquisitive look. “He noticed when Miriam’s lunches get…especially bad. Like, not even shaving cream and a packet of saltines bad. Just…no lunch at all. So he just started having his mom pack me lunches! And it’s always my favorite stuff! The garlic mayo I like, the barbecue chips with the ridges specifically. He literally said that, Phoebe, ‘with the ridges specifically.’ He knew that off the top of his head!”
“...How long has he known this?” Phoebe asked.
“I have absolutely no clue.” Helga responded, running her hand through her hair. “And another thing, he’s…he’s…” Her voice went a little higher on the pitch as the thought came to her. “Drawing me.”
The shorter girl raised an eyebrow. “Drawing you? That doesn’t seem so bad.”
“You haven’t seen his notebook, Phoebe. It’s NOTHING but me. Pages and pages and PAGES…!” Helga replied, her eyes wide.
Phoebe placed a hand to her chin. “Helga, doesn’t this sound familiar to you? This kind of…obsessive behavior?” Helga froze, her mind going a mile a minute. No, there was no way it was that, would it?
“...Nah, no way, Phoebe.” Helga chuckled nervously. “There’s no way. He’s just in the honeymoon phase of his first real relationship. There’s no way he’s–”
“Becoming just as obsessed with you as you are with him? I think it’s likely.” Phoebe continues. “Judging by his very, very well-documented behavior, Arnold does have a tendency to obsess over girls. Due to your position as his girlfriend, he is possibly more enamored with you than he ever was with Ruth or Lila or anyone else he’s ever had a crush on.”
Helga shook her head quickly. “No, absolutely not Phoebs. He’s just enthusiastic because he finally got a girlfriend.” Her best friend didn’t understand. If Arnold DID like her that much, if he were just as obsessed with her as she was with him, then…she was in way more trouble than initially thought. She was already having so much difficulty keeping herself contained as it was, and it felt like every single day her sweet Arnold just made it harder, and a part of Helga wonders if he was doing it on purpose. If he was taking a metaphorical sledgehammer to her carefully constructed emotional walls? Oh she was screwed. “He’s not obsessed with me, Phoebe, he’s not crazy about me. He’s just a ridiculous romantic and doesn’t know that any other girl would think he’s a weirdo for it.”
“Uh-huh.” Phoebe nodded, and Helga could feel the sarcasm coming off of it.
“Well, now that that’s settled, I have to get going.” Helga stretched. “Oh, and Phoebe? This conversation? Never happened.”
“Forgetting.” Phoebe chirped, now fully engrossed in her book.
Helga had been inside Arnold’s house, and even his room, a few times. Not usually by choice, but usually when her secret had been on the line and she’d had to resort to drastic measures that usually ended with her being injured in some manner and her pride being just as damaged, but with her secret safe. But now her beloved Arnold had invited her to his room to do their homework together! Her nerves were already fried at the mere idea, but she kept her composure as Arnold led her through the doors.
“Howdy Short Man!” Arnold’s grandpa smiled from his chair. “I see you finally brought your girlfriend!”
“Yeah uh…good to meet you, I guess.” Helga nodded. Phil’s smile turned a tad devilish, and Helga stiffened a little.
“You finally done skulking through our walls, eh?” Phil asked. Helga flinched, and Arnold’s hand squeezed hers reassuringly.
“Grandpa, don’t be mean. She’s actually really sorry about that.” Arnold admonished, and Phil scoffed playfully in return.
“Oh fine then, spoil all my fun. What’d I tell you though Short Man, I knew she liked you! Now, you’re going up to your room to do some homework eh? Is that what the kids are callin’ it?” Helga was astounded at how many shades of red Arnold’s face could cycle through in about six seconds. “You need a mint, sonny?” Phil asked with a cackle that said volumes about how much he enjoyed embarrassing his grandson.
“Dad, come on.” A voice from downstairs came as Miles ascended, wiping his hands with a grease rag. Stella was right behind him, hands clasped over her chest, looking positively delighted. “You’re acting just like you did when I brought Cindy Kodford here in 6th grade.”
“Helga!” Stella called, almost rushing up to the blonde with a big smile. “It’s so good to see you! Do you think you can stay for dinner? I’m homemaking cinnamon rolls!”
Oh the idea of homemade cinnamon rolls was tempting, but Helga shook her head slowly. “Probably not, Mrs. Shortman, sorry. Me and Hair Boy here are just doing our homework. I should be gone by 5.”
“Just your homework? Nothing else?” Grandpa chuckled knowingly.
“Dad!”
“Grandpa!”
Stella simply rolled her eyes and placed a hand on Helga and Arnold’s shoulders. “Ignore Phil, kids. But I will say Helga, I look forward to getting to know you better. Arnold speaks very highly of you.”
Helga’s eyes go wide as Arnold seems to choke on his own saliva. “M-Mom!” He sputters, and she can’t help but think he looks adorable being caught so off guard as the Shortmans all share a hearty laugh at the youngest’s expense.
Grandma emerges from the kitchen, all smiles. “Oh, lay off the poor boy you three. Being young and in love is hard enough. Kimba, go take Eleanor upstairs. I’ll call you down for some cookies and Yahoo in a bit.”
“Thanks Grandma!” Arnold smiled and headed for the stairs, dragging Helga behind him. “Sorry about that.” He said shakily, face red. “They’ve been a bit weird lately.”
“When isn’t your family weird, football head?” Helga returned, and Arnold chuckled. It was a bit weird coming up the stairs instead of sneaking in through his skylight, but Helga was able to keep her calm and not say anything embarrassing as they finally entered his bedroom. Her heart thumped against her ribcage as she laid her eyes on the couch, the shelves stuffed full of little mementos of his adventures, books, and other weird nicknacks. It felt nice to actually be in here when there wasn’t a crisis. It was all just so…Arnold.
Arnold sat down on his couch, patting the space next to him. Helga slowly sat down next to him and they began to actually get their homework done. Helga was astounded at how easy it was to talk to him about schoolwork, but every so often she caught him watching her, a big smile on his face as she complained about math or history, and her face turned bright red. Occasionally she would nudge her knee against his and revel in the face he made. The fact that she could get that reaction out of him was something she was trying so hard to be normal about. They’d been working for about an hour when Gertie called from downstairs. “Theodore! Come on downstairs and grab the cookies for you and Eleanor!”
“Coming Grandma!” Arnold shouted back, standing up. “I’ll be right back, Helga.” He says with a smile.
“Take your time, Arnold.” Helga waves him off. As the door closes, Helga looks around, taking in every detail she could. So many little things she’d never been able to see despite desperately wanting to in the past. So many times she’d been in here and the only thing she’d been able to take in had been a sock…which she still had, but he didn’t need to know that. Slowly, she strolled over to his bed and flopped onto it, grabbing his pillow and pressing it to her face, taking a deep inhale, finding the same lovely scent of his hair she usually only got a whiff of when she thought he wasn’t looking. “Oh, Arnold, my beloved. My darling, how I’ve always longed for this moment, to finally be invited into your inner sanctum, to be able to see deeper into your life is such a treasure I shall not squander, my love. Hehe, he’s so basic, still using a basic vanilla shampoo.” Her eyes swept around the room, taking in everything, the shelves stuffed with little knicknacks, the corkboard which used to contain pictures of San Lorenzo now completely covered in pictures of his family. Slowly, her eyes went to his computer when she noticed something. His desktop was open, and sitting on the screen was a folder, not hidden, just tucked away on a corner of the screen, named “Helga ❤️”. She blinked, curiosity overtaking her as she slowly approached the computer. She knew she shouldn’t, that it was a violation of her boyfriend’s privacy, and for a moment her practical mind not wanting to chase Arnold away clashed with the desire to know everything about him, and it didn’t take long for that obsessive side of her to win decisively with a mental powerbomb. There simply wasn’t a reality where she wasn’t going to open that folder. She grabbed the mouse and clicked.
Her eyes went wide. There were subfolders, labeled by emotion. When she clicked on those folders, there were even more subfolders, labeled by date. Inside those were pictures, ones of her happy, mostly, but a few of her being sarcastic or laughing, and she just couldn’t recall when he’d been taking pictures of her, especially with no one noticing. There were even pictures of her writing in her journal, smiling as she jotted down her latest work of poetry, something that made her face turn bright red. She quickly clicked back and clicked on the notes folder, which again was organized by date, and further organized by emotion. She opened a document, eyes wide as dinnerplates.
‘Helga likes romantic movies and books, even if she says she doesn’t.’
‘Helga likes salty snacks more than sweets, especially barbeque chips with ridges specifically.’
‘She likes when I lace our fingers together.’
‘She hates when smart people do stupid decisions.’
‘She can eat artificial strawberry flavors, but doesn’t risk it.’
‘She loves writing. Doesn’t even need to be poetry, she just likes writing.’
‘Helga’s ears turn red when she’s embarrassed, CUTE’
‘She pretends to hate school functions, but she always goes anyway. CUTE.’
‘Oh no.’ Helga covered her mouth, her face red. Not in shock or fear, but in sheer unadulterated love. ‘His crazy matches my crazy.’ She swallowed hard, staring at all of the folders and the sheer scope of this digital shrine to her. There was even a massive folder dedicated to before they were together, stuffed with observations about their past.
‘She was flirting with me at Chez Pierre.’
‘Helga took the part of Juliet just to kiss me. And she kissed me during the Babewatch shoot.’
‘Her lips are soft. Her vanilla lip gloss is amazing.’
‘Helga bats her eyelashes when she wants affection. Even when she’s scowling.’
‘Her eyes are so blue, like the ocean, I want to swim in them.’
‘His crazy REALLY matches my crazy.’ She thought as her throat, despite her swallowing, was incredibly dry. She wasn’t shocked, how could she be? Arnold had shown again and again, exactly how much he was looking at her. The strawberries, the lunches, the timings, it all pointed to the thing she’d been in denial about the entire time. Arnold was obsessed with her. A small laugh broke through her lips. She’d thought that she’d scare him away, that her feelings were a tumultuous hurricane that would have him running scared if she ever showed him the full scope of everything. Instead, sitting in front of her was proof that she’d underestimated him. Proof that his own feelings were a storm of their own, slowly gaining momentum the more he saw of her. Proof that she wasn’t alone.
“Helga?” Arnold’s voice rang out. Helga turned, eyes wide to see her boyfriend staring at her from the doorway, a tray of cookies and two bottles of Yahoo in his hands. He was frozen, looking at the screen in absolute shock. His eyes went from the screen, to her, back to the screen, then back to her one last time. “I uh…I can explain.” He offered.
“No need.” Helga stood, walking toward him. Arnold quickly set the tray on the bed, wringing his hand as Helga fixed him with a look.
“I uh…I know it looks weird, but I promise I’m not just…stalking you or something.” Arnold kept trying despite her statement.
“You mean like I stalked you for years?” Helga asked, a smile slowly spreading on her face.
“Yes, exactly! …Wait, what?” Arnold blinked, his face turning red as Helga leaned even closer to him.
“Oh, Arnold~” Helga purred, grabbing his hands and squeezing. He could see in her eyes that she wasn’t scared or shocked, but instead her eyes were moist and he could see the slight tremble in her lips. She wasn’t scared, she was just…emotional, and it took his breath away. She laughed, a bit hysterically, the metaphorical dam of her love had been completely sabotaged upon seeing this, and Helga just couldn’t hold it back anymore. “You absolute idiot.” He looked at her in confusion, and her smile turned into a full-blown grin. “You absolutely idiotic, unbelievable, spectacular, amazing, lovable football-headed moron.”
“Helga–”
“I thought I was the crazy one!” She cackled. Struck dumb by the sudden declaration, Arnold just watched her, eyes wide as she just kept going, years of bottled up emotion just finally being allowed to be released. “I kept thinking, even after you finally reciprocated my long-thought-unrequited feelings that if I showed you exactly how much I love you, it would scare you away! I thought I had to hide the full force of my adoration for you and your plump little football head, and then I find THIS,” She gestured at the computer, a picture of her staring back. Arnold looked positively mortified, while Helga looked utterly delighted. “and…and…you’ve got folders, subfolders, more meticulous organization than I’ve EVER had! You know when my lunches are bad, you know my routines, you know my moods better than I do!” She sighs, finally relaxing, stepping forward, making Arnold almost stumble back until his knees hit the couch. Finally, she said it, the words she’d been afraid to make real since San Lorenzo, since the moment of that incredible kiss that changed her life forever. “I love you, you know.” If Arnold was quiet before, he’d gone absolutely still as Helga grabbed her shoulders and leaned in, their faces mere centimeters apart. “I love how kind you are. I love your sense of adventure. I love your faith in others. I love that you have your limits, your so adorably human limits of patience and understanding. I love everything about you, Arnold.”
Arnold took a second to find his words, his face burning hot by Helga’s declaration. “I’m…very glad you think so, Helga.” He says quietly, reaching up and cupping her cheek, his thumb right next to her ear. “I didn’t mean to start doing this, I just…started noticing, and I didn’t want to forget, because it was all so wonderful. You’ve loved me all these years Helga, and…I’m falling in love with you more and more every day. I really think…I don’t just like you Helga. I don’t just like-like you either, Helga. This…this crazy burning inside me…it’s way more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. I love you, Helga. I…I even love how obsessed you are with me.”
Helga couldn’t hold herself back anymore, grabbing Arnold by his collar and pulling him into a kiss. Arnold reciprocated immediately, wrapping his arm under her shoulders to pull her even closer, their homework, the snacks, and the computer completely forgotten as they just couldn’t stay away, simply finally letting them feel everything they’d been holding back. She still couldn’t believe it, despite the proof sitting on the bright computer screen. She’d never quite imagined that Arnold could match her energy, but now that she knew he could, she never wanted to hold anything back.
They finally stopped, pulling apart. Arnold looked like he was having trouble staying present, his eyes half-lidded and his face stuck in a wobbly blissful smile. “You okay there football head?” She asked.
“Yeah…never better…” Arnold replied shakily, holding onto her arms to stay upright.
“Man, Phoebe’s never gonna let me hear the end of this if she hears of it.” Helga sighed, looking at him, smiling as she ran her thumbs over his cheeks. She sniffed, and idly noted that his breath was minty. “Did you seriously take one of those mints from your grandpa?”
“I got nervous.” Arnold squeaked.
Helga just let out a delightfully smug cackle and kissed him again.
They didn’t get any more homework done that day.