Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

Full Summary:: "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

Housekeeping: So I'm at it again with another little comedy. This is going to be a "short." Like maybe nine chapters at most. Or at least that's the way I've got it plotted. Definitely not a twenty-two chapter monster. I've been tiptoeing around writing a little story like this for awhile (You'll see what I mean once you start reading it) and...I know it's probably not going to be as popular as WATO but, if you liked the style of humor in that, and are cool with not sticking to HA tradition so to speak, you'll probably have a good time reading this one.

A/N: There are a lot of time jumps in this, and it may seem a little fast paced, but it's necessary to kick the plot off on bad boy. It'll normalize by chapter two.

Dirty Thirty

Friday Night.

Mascara. Just a bit more would do...and there. Twenty-five year old Helga Pataki blinked a few times in her bathroom mirror, closing the tube and tossing it back onto the vanity before pulling back to fully examine herself. Her golden beach-blonde hair was looking great, falling in gentle waves down her shoulders, happy to be out of the messy bun of a rut she'd gotten into since becoming a teacher's assistant. It was expected. Between constantly studying for her master degree and working on campus, she hardly had time blink, much less get dolled up. Like she'd ever been one to get dolled up on a regular basis to begin with. While her days as Hillwood's most notorious tomboy were firmly behind her—and for the best—she wasn't exactly a Rhonda Lloyd. She had grown into her self in a girl next door sort of way, knew how to turn a few heads when she wanted to, but most of the time, she just didn't care. But tonight...tonight was just one of those special occasion. The night.

She could feel it in her bones. Or maybe that was early onset arthritis...

But she chose to be optimistic.

She took a step back twisting one time, still trying to decide whether or not she was feeling that strapless black dress or not. There was a perfectly good green one in her closet she hadn't worn in awhile too. But, against her better judgement, she decided to roll with it.

Still...she thought she looked better in green.

Ah, she was smiling again. Even looking slightly giddy. Though not overbearingly so. Except to Phoebe. She was the only one that knew of Helga's joyful speculation. That speculation being that her boyfriend of three years was finally going to pop the question that night. Why did she think that? Well, for one it was a long time coming. All of their friends were getting engaged and married, Phoebe and Gerald just to name a few. He'd seemed very distracted as of lately. He'd insisted that they go to the nicest restaurant in town that night because he had something important to discuss with her. And while a lot of people would have pegged that as being anything but a good sign, they were forgetting one very important thing.

That his name just happened to be Arnold Shortman, and the story of life was literally written for them.

So, that might have been the writer in her making everything overly romantic. Still, it was their story. The pages were turning and she couldn't wait to get to the next chapter. Their weird orbit around each other had even inspired her to begin writing a book, albeit slowly, about a girl who stumbled across everybody's pre-written book for their life and attempts to change things only to discover that the stories were the way the were for a reason.

While obviously fiction, Helga herself had always bought into the notion of soul mates and pre-destination. She had no other explanation for how her and Arnold had always torpedoed into each others lives, no matter what. He was the Fred to her Ginger. The Sonny to her Cher. The Ken to her Barbie. It had finally come to a head after a doomed group ski trip where all of their friends had become, unfortunately plagued with a round of food poisoning—never trust sushi at a buffet...at a ski resort— leaving them the only two unscathed and able to enjoy the weekend retreat. That led to grabbing coffee afterwards and then him finally asking her out on a date.

Fast forward three years, and now they were here.

So, naturally it just made sense to her that this would be logical next step, and this was the night that it was going to happen. Her phone buzzed against the granite, Arnold alerting her via text that he was there to get her.

Helga grabbed the perfume atop the vanity and misted a bit in the air before walking through it. Spray and walk away. She liked smelling good, not like a department store. With that, she inhaled deeply and exited the bathroom and clicked down the hallway, catching her roommate Phoebe hanging out on the couch, hunched forward writing thank-you notes to everybody who had come to her and Gerald's wedding shower two weeks prior.

Yep, her friends were tying the knot in a month, and they had their stock the bar party the following night. Which was going to be great fun, both occasions, and even better that she were sure she was going to get to go engaged herself.

"Good luck," Phoebe chimed, glancing up from her scribbling to give her best friend a smirk.

Helga chortled, "Thanks. What do you think about the black dress?"

"I think it looks fine. Why?"

"I was thinking I should have gone with the green."

Phoebe sat up and shrugged, "I don't know that it matters."

"Yeah," Helga finally agreed, grabbing her clutch off of the dinning room table, "It's not important," and then her car keys off of the kitchen hook despite the fact that she didn't need them. Habit really, "See ya. And don't wait up," She leaned back in and winked before dipping out the door.

She hurried down to where Arnold was parked on the curb, and scooted into his SUV. "Hey handsome," She smiled as slid in and closed the door. He was all cleaned up himself, in a nice sport coat and slacks, having looked to be departed from his typical straggle beard in favor of being cleanly shaven for once in a blue moon.

"Hello gorgeous," He replied with his infamous lopsided smile.

"Decided to get rid of the sandpaper I see," She teased as she reached over and ran the side of her hand down his temporarily smooth cheek as he cut the wheel and pulled them back into the street. Truthfully, she hated the half-beard thing. He wasn't committed enough to do the whole beard, nor was he committed enough to shave as often as he should, which meant she got left with a face that was chronically prickly.

She'd learned to live with it. And it was almost endearing at that point. "Don't get used to it."

She rolled her eyes, grinning as she sat back in her seat, "Well, no duh, football head. I know how it is at this point."

"How was your day?" He asked, glancing at her, briefly before returning his eyes to the road.

"It was a Friday, how's that?" At that Arnold chuckled. "How about yours?"

"It was alright," He said in a very vague tone. It made Helga wonder if he were nervous about that evening. She knew he didn't have an exiting job by any means—he was a pharmacist, after all—but normally he had a little more to say about it than that. It was sweet, she thought. That he was nervous. Maybe he was afraid he'd botch it up, or maybe he was afraid she'd say no. Which was preposterous, he literally could stick the ring in a flute of champagne and then she choke on it and after having to have the Heimlich performed, would still say 'yes' to him.

Whatever. She just chose to sit back and smile quietly to herself.

The Root Cellar wasn't terribly far away from where she lived. Close enough that if it hadn't been the dog days of August they could have feasibly walked and then Ubered home if they had too much wine. Arnold pulled to the valet and they both exited the vehicle, the keys being handed over to the boy who didn't look too many years younger than the two of them. The tall blonde escorted her inside, his hand on the small of her back then entire time. "Reservation for Shortman," He told the hostess.

The girl double checked the confirmation before handing them off to her helper, who lead them to a table in a secluded corner of a section of the rapidly filling restaurant. "Your waiter will be right with you." Ever the gentleman, Arnold pulled Helga's chair at for her, before seating himself across the table from her. Once seated, she tossed her clutch and her phone to the half of the table they weren't using and reached for the wine menu. "What are you feeling like tonight?" He asked, lacing his hands together on the table.

Helga bit her lip in thought, seeing many things that tickled her fancy. She loved red wine, but she was sure that she didn't want the dreaded 'wine teeth' that night. "Maybe a selbach-oster."

"What's that?"

"A pinot."

Arnold nodded, "Let's get a bottle then." While he was anything but a wine-o like she was, they often would split a bottle of wine when they went out to nicer places on dates.

Their anticipated waiter finally breezed up to their table, well dressed with his hands clasped in front of him, "Welcome to the Root Cellar. My names Sebastian and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Have you guys been with us before?"

"We have," Helga looked up from her menu, casting him a nice smile.

"Fantastic. Well can I start you off with some waters? Perhaps some libations?"

"Yeah, I think we're going to do a bottle of the selback-oster," Helga replied, snapping the menu shut and sliding to the other side of the table, "And a couple waters."

"Excellent choice," Sebastian nodded, "I'll have that right out," He said before walking away. Arnold was still strangely quiet, having stuck his face in the menu as if it were any ole' night.

Helga gave his form a ghost of a smirk, shaking her head before picking up her own menu. She was almost too excited to even think about eating, which made picking out a meal a real chore.

"You want an appetizer?" Arnold asked, not looking up.

"Do you want one?" She threw the question right back at him. Personally, she didn't desire any extra food than necessary. When he didn't reply she went on with, "If you get something, I'll probably have a bite or two."

"I don't want anything, but if you did, I'd get something."

"Ah..." Helga continued to scan her menu, trying to find something that she might would want to eat through her nerves. Sebastian returned faster than expected with their bottle of wine, an ice bucket for it to sit in and a pair of glasses.

"Here you are," He poured a bit into each glass before placing the bottle into the bucket, "I'll have those waters right out. Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes."

"I'm ready," Arnold's head shot up, leaving Helga's left eyebrow to subtly creep up her forehead. Nerves must have been really getting to hairboy. "I'll have the duck Gorgonzola," He shut the menu and handed it off to Sebastian, his attention then turned to her.

"I'll have the seafood risotto," She finally settled on that, knowing that the leftovers—that she was sure to have plenty of, as she was too excited to want to eat much—would be good. She closed the menu and passed it into Sebastian's awaiting hand.

"Very good. I'll be right back with those waters."

"So..." Helga trailed off, grabbing for her glass of wine and reclining back in her chair to have an exploratory sip. She made a good selection that night, "You're awfully quiet tonight."

Arnold straightened and took a sip from his own glass, "I've just got a lot on my mind."

His girlfriend smirked, curling her hand and pinning her glass against her shoulder, "Like what? You're never this quiet."

"Just work stuff and...you know."

Popping her eyebrows once, she decided to humor him, "Alright then."

Arnold quietly sighed, drumming his fingers lightly on the cloth table cover, subtly biting his lip as he absently stared off at the other goings on around the dinning quarters. "So...I uh..."

"Here you go," Sebastian walked up carrying two waters, effectively cutting off whatever her boyfriend was about to say.

"Thank you," Helga replied before turning her attention back to Arnold, giving him the, continue-what-you-were-saying eager face.

"Is uh...is Phoebe driving you nuts? Because I'm about to strangle Gerald," He asked, referring to his roommate with a low chuckle.

Helga was happy that Arnold seemed to have loosened up a bit, though there was still a notable aloofness to him that simultaneously irritated her and made her feel bad for him. Their entrees arrived and they both seemed to pick at their meals as much as the other. Nerves she guessed. Halfway through, Arnold quietly put his knife and fork down, dabbing his mouth with his napkin before saying, "I need to talk to you about something."

And there it was.

She had to fight the urge to smile from ear to ear. To beam really. She wouldn't though, being the hell of an actress that she was. Seriously, she deserved an academy award for how she'd pretended to loath him as a child. Instead, she calmly looked up from her meal, appearing to be none-the-wiser and asked, "Everything okay?"

"So...I uh...I've been thinking about this for awhile and...thinking about us..." He trailed off.

Helga's heart was about to hammer out of her chest, inhaling as calmly as she could as she thumbed her fork down and reached for her glass of wine. Taking a few decent sized gulps to still the butterflies coming up through her stomach before nodding, "Yeah?"

"And I...um..." This was it, she thought. This was the moment. He was going to ask. He was going to ask and she was going to die...from joy. "I'm...moving abroad."

The young blonde stopped, not sure she had heard that right. No. She was certain that there was no way she could miss hear, 'Will you marry me?' for 'I'm moving abroad.' "Uh...what?" She flatly asked, now more confused than ever.

Arnold closed his eyes and sighed dreadfully, appearing as if he really didn't want to be doing what he was doing, "I'm going to be moving abroad."

It was her turn to just stare at him for a solid thirty-seconds before saying, "You're a pharmacist," She didn't really know what else to say, or what she was trying to point out, other than pharmacist's weren't typically known for their spontaneous, Indiana Jones like behavior.

"I joined an organization that's similar to doctors without borders. I'm going to be living and providing medical care in undeveloped nations."

Well that was all fine and noble and all, "For how long?"

His green eyes shifted back up to her still ever confused expression and sighed again, "I've always had this gnaw inside to...get out there and see the world and...maybe do some good deeds too. I think I get it honestly from my parents. I think they would have been proud of me choosing this," He watched as she nodded and took a few big gulps from her wine, "I don't know how long I'll be gone," He finally admitted, "And with that being said...I...think that we should...or...you should...see other...people."

Helga downed her wine glass, shaking her head and blinking a few times as the rush of alcohol went straight to her brain, "Wow...I did not see this coming tonight."

Arnold, looking as pathetic as ever, tried the whole, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? This...this isn't how the story goes!"

"What am I suppose to do? I love you, but...I've got this whole part of me that's unfulfilled. You're working towards your career. I can't ask you to up and move to some random place across the globe. This is what's best. I'm leaving right after Phoebe and Gerald's wedding," He explained. She was the maid of honer, and he was the best man. Things just got complicated, "I mean, we can still go tog—"

"—I've spent the better part of my life loving you, you know that? This isn't something you do to somebody you love. I would never do this to you," She stabbed her index finger at him.

"I'm sorry! But, I need to do this for me. If we're meant to be, like you've always said, then it'll work out. Our paths will find each other again."

"Sure..." She irritably replied, grabbing her phone and clutch before standing up, "Well...good luck with that I guess."

"Helga..."

She took a few steps before backing up and grabbing the bottle of wine out of the ice bucket, "You know what? I'm taking this. Because it's delicious." Before stalking her way through the surrounding tables.

"Helga!" Arnold called with a reasonably elevated voice so not to call attention to their debacle. Huffing at her ridiculousness, he turned back around, digging out his wallet, thankful that he'd brought cash that night before throwing down enough to more than cover what he guesstimated their bill to be, and jogged from the building. Turning each way, he finally caught sight of her walking down the sidewalk, doing something on her phone.

"Helga...wait!" He sprinted up behind her.

"Go away, Arnold."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm being ridiculous?"

"Look it's not that I don't want to be with you. This is a personal fulfillment thing. I'm never going to be happy until I do this," He tried, walking after her, hoping she'd stop, but she didn't. "Oh come on Helga..." He said again, running his hand over the back of his neck, "I'm pretty sure you can't just be walking around out on the street with an open container like this," He finally tried pointing out, referring to the bottle of wine she just took a sip out of, and hoping maybe that would get some reaction from her.

Predictably she scoffed at his reasonable assumption, "I'm getting an Uber home so don't worry about me."

Arnold sighed, perching his hands on his hips, "I'm also certain they aren't going to be cool with you having an open container in their car," When he didn't get any further reaction at of her, he walked over and grabbed her phone, "Cancel the ride, I'll take you home."

"Criminey football head, you itching to get slugged tonight too?" She threatened, swatting at him before snatching it back from him his hand.

"Just let me take you home, okay?"

"You know what? Whatever. Whatever floats your damn boat," She rolled her eyes, not wanting to take the ride, but not really desiring to wait for an Uber either. She could barely look at him as he walked back to the valet and politely asked them to fetch his vehicle. They did so quickly, and the pair climbed in. Not saying a word the entire drive back to her apartment. Nothing but the hums of the vehicle, two blinkers and her occasional swig from the wine bottle cut the silence. When he finally pulled to the curb in front of her home, she quickly exited, wanting nothing more to do with him for the night.

He'd broken her heart, and she wasn't even sure how to process that right then. He'd crushed her many times in her life, but ever single one of them had been because of some miscommunication, or accident. It have never been done with deliberateness. This was a new feeling entirely. "Helga..." He beckoned softly to her fleeting form.

"Goodbye Arnold..." Was all she had to say to him before she shut the door in his face and retreated into her house. Once inside she zombied through the living room, right past Phoebe who was asking something or other, right down the hallway and into her bedroom before slouching down on her bed, finishing off the bottle of wine in a long a hefty couple of gulps and collapsing back on the mattress.

Welp, there came the tears.

Saturday Night.

Brian 'Brainy' Miller stood outside the apartment door of his girlfriend, dressed nicely for his friend's stock the bar party happening that night, and growing more irritated by Heather's increasing tardiness. She knew that the shindig was happening that night, and he'd told her several times when to be ready. He wrapped his knuckles on wood for a third time. They weren't serious. At least he didn't consider them serious. He assumed she was on the same page. They'd only been seeing each other for a few months and if it weren't for him hating to show up to functions without a plus one—namely Phoebe and Gerald's wedding right around the corner—he'd not have even worried about. Truthfully, he'd thought about breaking it off, realizing that that he as a twenty-five year old guy with a career, had much less in common with a newly twenty-one year old than he'd imagine.

Age gaps could work, but apparently not until later in life. That much he was learning.

He sighed, almost walking away and saying screw her, when, as a last resort, he reach out and turned the door handle, just to see if it were unlocked. Maybe she were in the shower and didn't hear him. Surprisingly it was unlocked and he decided to let himself in. Peeking his head around the door he quietly called, "Heather?"

He didn't see anything, but he did hear a slight noise coming from the shut bedroom door across the living room area. Honestly, if she was getting ready, he was probably going to scare the crud out of her, but at that point, she deserved it for not understanding the concept of punctualness.

Moving closer to the bedroom door, he heard the muffled sounds get a little louder, and he finally reached out and opened that door too, fright be damned. And...alright cool. His eyes widened, seeing her on top of some other guy, riding him like a freakin' racehorse in her bed. He'd always imagined he would have been more angry in a situation like this, should he ever have the misfortune to stumble across one, but...he found it more funny than anything.

Which truly showed how much he wasn't into dating this girl if anything.

He could have left quietly, but he decided to do the ole' fake cough thing...which, was worth it, seeing the two of them jump at his presence. "What the hell?!" The other guy bellowed.

"Hey there sea-biscuit. Oh, no, don't stop on my behalf, but hey, a reminder. It's Saturday and you had plans with me," He smiled brightly at Heather, "Alright, buh-bye now," He did the farewell salute to the girl he would no longer be seeing anymore, and left her apartment. As he took the elevator down, and got back in his truck he murmured, "This is why I hate dating..." with a dead-panned expression.

Helga rolled into the bar that Phoebe and Gerald were throwing their party at, a little later than she had planned. She wasn't much in the celebrating mood, all things considering, but she was going to be there for her friends. Arnold would, of course, be there too, to her dissatisfaction, but it wasn't like she could stop him. Her best option was just to ignore him the entire night, which would probably raise a ton of eyebrows. None of their friends knew yet. Except for Gerald and Phoebe. The rest of the gang...clueless. And would predictably be flabbergasted when they found out.

For the exact same reason that she was still in awe. They were suppose to be together. Everybody had been sure of it. She'd bet everything on it. Now, in a matter of...well overnight, she'd gone from knowing everything to knowing nothing anymore!

Criminey, now she knew how Jon Snow felt in every single episode of G.O.T.

Her future was suddenly a mystery.

So, what was the appropriate amount of time one had to stay at a party before calling it a night again?

Inside the bar, she carried her alcoholic gift—a fancy bottle of rose'—to the gift table and plopped it down there, waving to her best friend, who was chatting with some girls that she worked with before hightailing it to the bar for a much needed beverage. All of her friends were around chatting. Curly and Rhonda, Sid and Nadine, Sheena and Eugene, Lila and Arnie, Patty and Harold. All her stupid little couple friends. Except for Stinky. Ever. Single. Stinky. "Can I get a glass of red wine, please?" She asked the bartender as she took a seat on the stool.

"Want to start a tab?"

"You betcha," She replied, fishing out her debit card and handing it over with a 'shut-up-and-take-my-money' type of hurriedness.

"Jeez, you planning on getting turnt tonight?" Brian teased as he walked up behind her.

"Turnt?" Helga chortled, looking over, "Learning hip knew words from Heather?" She jested him right back, referring to the age difference between him and his newly ex-girlfriend.

"Want to know what the word extra means now?"

"Not particularly. But if you were asking if I'm planning on getting tore up tonight then...yeah, maybe."

Brian snorted, sliding onto the stool right next to hers with his wallet already in hand, "I hear you. Can I get a whiskey, neat. House is fine. And I want to start a tab too," He pushed his debit card to the guy.

"I'm guessing you are contemplating the same?"

"Absolutely. I've just got to figure out which one of you is driving me home...eh..." He motioned his index finger upwards as if he'd just had an idea, "Definitely not you."

Helga chortled, "Definitely not me. Where is ole' Heather at, by the way?" She then innocently asked, finding it a little strange that his 'just turned twenty-one year old' girlfriend would seemingly be absent from what was essentially a drinking party. The Bermuda triangle was less of an oddity than that.

Brian's eyebrow quirked as he side-eyed her. Right about that moment, the bartender sat his glass down in front of him and he spun on the stool to face the action like she was, "Well, last time I checked, still in her apartment with a guy I nicknamed sea-biscuit balls deep in her," He casually explained before taking an exploratory sip of his beverage, smacking his lips rapidly.

It took a moment for Helga to completely register that entire, overly informative statement, but when it all finally clicked together coherently for her, she nearly choked on the gulp of wine she had in her mouth. Thankfully, she was able to hurriedly swallow before embarrassing herself, "Oh my God...seriously?" She asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "That happened tonight?"

Her friend chuckled, "Yep."

"Jeez, Brian...I'm so sorry to hear that," She was suddenly feeling like her woes weren't the absolute worst in the room anymore. At least Arnold had had some tact to him. Oh, and also hadn't been cheating. Except wanting to see other countries instead of her, but that hardly counted.

Yet, for something so dramatic, Brian seemed rather indifferent about it, merely waving her sympathy off as he was taking another sip of his drink, "It wasn't going anywhere."

"Still. Nobody deserves that happening to them."

"I know," He chuckled, casually shrugging one of this shoulders, "It was kind of funny, truth be told...walking in on somebody like that."

"If you say so." It definitely wasn't something she'd ever want to walk in on.

A comfortable silence fell over the pair as they were both content watching everybody else chatting about. Helga finally noticed Arnold come in and make the rounds, chatting with different people. It made Brian's eyebrow raise seeing him, solo, hanging out. He figured the dude would have come over to the bar by then to see his girlfriend, or better yet, said girlfriend sitting beside him would have gone to go meet up with him. Instead she stared into the assemble of people with a subtle hint of dejectedness that he could tell she was trying to mask with indifference and the wine glass glued to her mouth, "Everything okay with you guys?" He finally procured as the concerned friend that he was.

"Huh?" Helga shook her head, and looked over at him. He took that to mean that she hadn't heard him, and not that she needed him to clarify what he was asking about.

"Is everything okay with you?" He repeated more timidly. Despite growing out of a lot of her hostility towards people caring about her well being, she still wasn't the type that liked to openly discuss her feelings. Even with close friend. And there was always a lingering part of Brian that was afraid of getting wacked in the face.

She considered him for a moment, as usual, not really desiring to explain anything to him, but knowing as close-nit as their group had become over the years, everybody was going to find out. Sooner than later. "No, it's not," She downed what was left of her wine before placing it back on the bar, "Can I get another?"

"Sure..."

"Arnold is moving abroad."

Brian's brows pulled together in about as much confusion as Helga was still firmly swirling around in a full day later, "So...what does that mean?" His natural assumption was that they would be moving abroad, but that didn't feel right based on the pairs lack of interaction with one another.

And he was right. Helga sneered, trying her best not to be entirely mean spirited about her ex-boyfriend's decision, "It means..." She trailed off, grabbing the refilled wine glass and bringing it back to her lips, "He wants me to see other people," She borrowed Arnold's phrasing, "Because he doesn't know how long he is going to be gone. Maybe forever. Who the hell knows."

"He broke things off?" Brian asked in perplexity, his disbelief immediately confirmed his friend's mournful, if lazy, nod, "Wow. I...can't believe that."

"How do you think I feel? I had my whole life planned out up until yesterday."

"Really? The whole thing?"

Helga thinned her eyes at him, knowing that he was attempting to tease her about her over planning, "You know what I mean. I mean, we've only been dating for three years but we've been orbiting each other since we were five."

"Well, I guess that means the rest of us mortals are doomed," Brian took a hollowed sip from his whiskey, looking a little weary by the thought already.

"It's so...him though. Trying to save the world and all that crap," Helga let it slide, choosing to ramble on, nearly through that second glass of wine already.

"What's he going for exactly?"

"I don't know. I think he joined the peace corp or something."

"Ah. Yeah that is 'so like him'," Brian agreed. Mostly just to make her feel better, but he couldn't say he was entirely surprised at Arnold's grandious life plans. He was a guy with big ideas and a soul with an unquenchable wanderlust. He was more surprised that there had been what appeared to be no option of Helga going with him. "Looks like it's you, me and ole' Stinky in the singles club now," He light-heartedly teased her again, though it was probably the worse thing he could possibly do. He knew it probably didn't make her feel any better but he didn't know what else to say at that point.

"Ugh-gah, no," Helga whined as she lolled her head back.

"And we're the three best friends that anyone can have," He leaned in and began singing, "The three best friends that anyone—"

"—can it, Miller," Helga palmed him off with her hand to his face, effectively shutting him up as she did, "Or you're getting reunited with the fist next," She ideally threatened, though knowing she wouldn't be taken seriously. Alas, her brawling days were far behind her by then.

Brian merely chuckled before downing the rest of his drink, turning and sitting it on the bar. Catching the eye of the bartender he pointed to the empty glass and gave the thumbs up. "Well, everything happens for a reason," He told her, as he watched the guy refill his whiskey. That was his best advice. Mostly because when it came to a love life, he was a fly by the seat of his pants type of guy.

"Does it? Because I don't think it does."

Her friend reclaimed his new drink, planting his eyes on her momentarily before following hers back out to their friends...and Arnold. "Yeah. I believe that it does."

"Whatever floats your boat," Helga finished her second glass and beckoned the bartender for another, "I was expecting a proposal from him and now I'm halfway to thirty and newly single," She said with a slight disdain in her voice. Truthfully it was because the sentence as a whole tasted terrible on the tip of her tongue, and she never, in her wildest imagination, ever thought she'd be uttering such, "I mean...what's left at this point? Cats?"

Brian snorted, "I'm single and halfway to thirt—"

"—Oh you know what I mean!" She clipped at him.

"Well...it's not the end of the world." At that Helga began glaring at him once more, "I know you were in love with him and all but..." He trailed off, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck cautiously as he side eyed her, "I'm just saying its not like your time has run out or anything. You could...just look at it like I do."

"I shudder at what vision that must be..."

Brian rolled his eyes at her ever ungratefulness, "As long as Stinky is still single. I've got plenty of time."

Helga snorted, really starting to feel the alcohol at that point, "He's your measure of success?"

"Of course. Look at him," He gestured to their lanky friend having a conversation with Sid and Harold, "God bless the guy, but he's got zero game with woman. I mean, neither do I, but I at least date. Though admittedly it's been mostly a waste of time. It's a real crap shoot out there if we're being honest."

"You're making me feel so much better," Helga sarcastically drawled.

"Sorry, the point I was getting at was: has he ever brought a date to our game nights or parties?"

"Has he...?" Helga's brow furrowed as she tried to think of a single time in the five years they'd been getting together for game nights that Stinky had brought a date. Never. She couldn't remember one. She couldn't recall him ever even talking about a girl. "On my God...you're right. He's like...forever single."

Brian chuckled and took a sip of his whiskey, "See. Feels better right?"

"No. Now I feel terribly for Stinky and myself," Helga groaned, running her hand down her face.

"Well, I tried."

"I've just got to remain positive Brian. Remain positive. He's going to get over there and miss me and...he'll be home before I know it."

"Alright well, let's drink to that then," He held his glass up for her to clink.

Six Months Later.

Not a peep from Arnold in six solid months. At least from her point of view. He'd apparently face-timed with Gerald once, which was fine and dandy, but she was flabbergasted that he hadn't tried to call her. Not once! Now she was starting to get worried. Worried that...he was right. Maybe he didn't know when he would be coming back. Maybe...she should see what else was out there. In terms of...other men.

Nonsense!

Who would she see? She'd never played the whole dating game. She'd literally only ever dated him! She was twenty-five years old and already exhausted by the idea of meeting somebody else. Oh like she were in any hurry, despite her friends urging her to 'get-out-a-little'. Easy for a group of people who were all married or seeing people they had known their entire lives. Brian had unwittingly offered up a nugget of advice that she'd initially cast off as utter ridiculousness. However, she'd come to find a lot of comfort in it the more that time began to tick by.

Watching Stinky's complete lack of love life—scratch that—his complete disinterest in any love life did make her feel a world of better. As unfortunate as that was.

And, against her better judgment, he also became her tool of comparison. As long has his love life was non-existent, she wasn't worried about meeting somebody else.

It was Thursday night, which meant it was dirty trivia time at Buckets on main. The gang's favorite dive bar that wasn't infested with twenty-year old's seeking to get wasted on dollar PBR tall boys. Funny how that worked. Helga slid in the front door, making a bee-line to their usual spot over in the far left corner, grabbing a chair in between a few of her friends that was empty with an untouched water in front of it, "So what's our team name tonight?" She grabbed a straw on the table, peeling off the paper and stuck it in the drink.

"We're the periodic table dancers," Rhonda said, and Helga could just hear the eye roll in her tone. The blonde however, thought it was great. She thoroughly appreciate a good clever team name, and they'd been on a hot streak lately.

"Yes!" She snorted, "Who came up with that?"

"Harold," Patty replied, eyeing her husband over by the bar where he was grabbing their drinks.

Helga followed her eyes, seeing the rest of the gang corralling their beverages before the game started. All the usual suspects, but she did catch sight of an unknown brunette snugly perched between Lila and Stinky, all three appearing to be in conversation. "Lila bring a friend tonight?"

"Oh, my God," Rhonda reached out and grasped her forearm, obviously thrilled that she'd noticed, "Brace yourself Pataki."

"I think you're doing that for me at this point, princess," Helga rolled her eyes before picking up the water and putting the straw in her mouth.

"Stinky brought a date." Helga spit water as Rhonda released her arm, "I had a similar reaction myself. Less disgusting of course."

Once Helga wiped her mouth, she eyeballed her two friends, "Are we sure she's a date?"

"That's what he introduced her as."

"Apparently," Patty butted in, "They met a coffee shop."

"Oh. That's...cool I guess," Helga looked past her friend once more to stare at Stinky. Watching him laugh cheerily as his date said something obviously very funny.

Well that sucked.

The night had come to a conclusion. They had kicked ass at trivia and now everybody was headed out in order to get up for one last work day until the weekend. Helga gathered her stuff and herded out the doors with the rest of her friends, everybody saying their goodbyes before separating off into the direction of their cars.

Helga had been well aware that she'd parked beside Phoebe and Gerald at the end of the lot when she arrived, so it was no surprise to her that they opted to accompany her on her walk. "You've been a little quiet tonight," Phoebe observed, mostly assuming that her friend had been tired.

"Eh..." She distractedly replied. She hadn't been the most talkative. Almost having become frozen in the shock of Stinky actually having a date. Maybe it was some sort of...sign?

"Okay..."

Helga stopped and looked back at her best friend, "So this is going to sound stupid but, back at your stock the bar party, Brian pointed out to me that Stinky is basically a-sexual."

At that Gerald burst out laughing to the unamused side-eye of his wife, "What?" She asked, expecting some clarification.

"Like...no interest in dating. Forty-year old virgin territory."

"Oh damn..." Gerald guffawed, "That's pretty good. Harsh...but spot on."

"Anyway, I kind of made a bet with myself that as long as he stayed single forever it wouldn't be all that pathetic for me to hold out for Arnold coming back."

"Oh, wow...that's a little weird. Even for you. Not the holding out for Arnold part the creating a model of comparison out of a friend."

"Oh, come on!" Helga huffed at her friend, "I was desperate and it was a bet that I couldn't lose. And by the way, I didn't come up with this alone. Apparently Brian has been doing this all along."

"That explains...more than ever actually."

"Go figure. You are one unlucky individual, Pataki," Gerald butted in again, wiping his eyes, "Either that or you jinxed yourself. Bro has his first date ever. Might even get laid soon, if he hasn't already."

Helga rolled her eyes at him, taking solace in the fact that at least Phoebe seemed to take her self-inflicted problem somewhat seriously, even if she were still a little confused, "Well Helga, I guess this means it's time for you to move on then. Per your own rules of course."

"I know..."

"It'll be good for you. Healthier at the very least," Phoebe slipped that last bit in there under her breath.

"I don't really want to," She sighed, slumping her shoulders, "But honestly...I probably need to."

"You need to."

One year crept by...

Then two...

And three boyfriends later, not to mention the countless one time dates she'd been on. Things weren't going so hot. Whoever said that there were plenty of fish in the sea was full of crap. Oh, fish there were, but none that she considered herself even remotely compatible with. Hell, she'd just broken up with number three because she'd hated how he said, 'you know?' after every statement he made. Number two had bit the dust because he agreed with everything she had to say, and well...number one had broken up with her because he said she was too 'emotionally unavailable.' So...maybe he wasn't wrong. But God she was so petty...and easily annoyed. It just continued to confirm her belief—despite what her friends said—that Arnold was the one and only one for her. However, unfortunately he was refusing to be a participant in the story that had been pre-planned for them, which forced her to continue to sail through life...story-less.

It was their bi-weekly Friday game night, and Helga had just let herself into Sheena and Eugene's house, the hosts for that weeks game of 'Them versus us'. She slunk into the kitchen, catching sight of a few of her friends as she dropped her bag and the bottle of wine she brought on their island. One of them being her miserably pregnant best friend, leaning back against the counter as Nadine yapped at her about something. Seriously. If that kid fell out in the living room that night, she wouldn't be the least bit surprised.

"Hey gang," Helga issued her greeting in which everybody promptly reciprocated.

While she was leaning over the island to grab a handful of potato chips she heard Phoebe ask, "Brett couldn't make it tonight?" Which caused Helga to silently cringe before turning around and palming the chips into her mouth in a less than graceful manner.

"No. I uh...sort of broke up with him yesterday." Gasps of horror and disbelief erupted from her friends, and she figured they would. Apparently they'd really liked that one, "What?" She opted to play dumb anyway.

"We liked Brett."

"Yeah he was great."

Helga shrugged, chomping down on another clutch of chips, "Well, maybe for you guys but not for me."

Phoebe eyeballed her friend knowingly as she crossed her arms over her enlarged midsection. She couldn't wait to hear what petty thing it was this time. "Dare I ask what was wrong with him?"

"I mean..." She trailed off elusively.

"Was he disappointing in bed?" Rhonda chimed in, her interest now peeked and to the odd but expected looks of Nadine, Sheena, Lila and Patty. Rhonda had a habit of wanting the gory details of everything. Absolutely everything. But seeing her friends expressions had her rolling her brown eyes defensively, "What? He was a dish otherwise."

"Don't give her that much credit," Phoebe replied back, leaving Helga's own eyes to widen a bit. "I'm positive it wasn't over anything that serious." This new mother-to-be Phoebe was savage.

"Well, if you must know..."

"I simply must," Rhonda affirmed.

"He was fine in that department he just..." She again trailed off before huffing with the roll of her eyes. "You know how he always liked to say, 'you know?' after everything."

"...yeah?"

"Oh my gosh," Lila blurted in disbelief, "You really broke up with him over that?"

"Yes! It annoyed me!"

"You're impossible."

"And I thought I was picky..." Rhonda agreed.

"Oh come on...since when am I not allowed to be picky?" Helga defended, feeling a little like she was getting ganged up on by everybody.

"Picky about what?" Helga turned her head to see Brian coming out of the living room to grab a few snacks from the kitchen island.

"Guys that I date."

Her blonde headed guy friend popped another can of beer open and went straight for the chips and cheesy dip, "So you broke up with Brett huh?" He guessed and shoved a few chips in his mouth, washing it down with the beer.

"Take a guess why," Patty commented, egging him on in the conversation.

"Really?" Helga cut her eyes to the girl, thinning them enough to show her unappreciativeness.

"Was it because he said, 'You know?' after everything?"

At that Helga triumphantly crossed her arms and tilted her head at her friends, "Well, well, well...how about that."

"Unbelievable..."

"How are you going to come over here and encourage her bad behavior?" Nadine procured of Brian, a hand perched on her hip but a feather of a smile ghosting on her lips. Truth be told she found the whole thing hilarious.

"Because it was annoying," He took a sip of beer and dunked some more chips, "You married people need to cut us some slack. You don't realize how much of a crap shoot dating is these days."

Helga shifted her eyes back to him, "Thank you,"

"Howdy everybody!" The gathering in the kitchen turned to see Stinky and his girlfriend Amy come shuffling up the hallway from the front door, carrying a six pack and a tray of cookies. Which made Helga feel bad that she'd forget to bring some food of some sort. Amongst her other problems that night.

"Hey guys!"

Amy sat the cookies down on the island, sliding some of the other finger foods over. Sheena walked over and removed the plastic top and got it out of the way.

"How's it been going?" Brian asked the two as the reached over and picked up a peanut butter cookie from the newly placed offerings.

"Well, actually, we have some exciting news," Stinky replied, eyes sparkling in a way that Brian couldn't recall ever seeing out of his friend. The taller guy put his arm around his girlfriends shoulder and pulled her closer to his side, everybody's attention suddenly being had. Before he could deluge what joys he had to tell them, Amy beat him to it, holding up her left hand to allow the room to see the diamond ring glinting off of her slender finger.

"He proposed!"

Brian seemed dumbfounded for a moment, not being sure if he'd heard that correctly. It was the chorus of congratulations around him that confirmed that he hadn't been hearing things. Blinking, he finally snapped out of it, "Wow, congratulations you two," He said with a warm smile.

Across the kitchen island, Helga was in the same exact boat. What alternate universe had she fallen into?

One more year later.

Oh it was just wonderful. Truly it was. The venue they picked was a quaint little farm house that doubled as both ceremony and reception. Mason jars and burlap everything for days. It was very Instagram chic. She, surprisingly had a date that night...who she'd abandoned at the table in favorite of grabbing another glass of wine. Like he cared. She continued to watch him from afar. He looked like he was more than enjoying the conversation being had by one of Amy's cousins. Honestly, what were the odds that they'd both be from the same obscure town in Oklahoma?

Brian walked up beside her to fetch himself another beer, "Well Pataki, we officially jinxed ourselves," He lightly chuckled.

Helga snorted, "We've gone beyond jinxed. We're officially losers," She took a gulp of wine, "Also I think my date might leave me for that girl he's so animatedly talking with."

Brian retrieved his beer before following her eyes to her table, seeing the man she'd come with hysterically laughing with said girl, a twinkle in both their eyes. "They do seem rather smitten."

Helga nodded, "Yeah. They're from the same hick town in Oklahoma."

"Wow...that's...hard to believe."

"Isn't it..." Helga agreed, still in a little disbelief herself. "Where's Catherine?" She asked, referring to his latest girlfriend.

"She had to cover a shift at the hospital."

"Ah, that sucks."

"Apparently the flu is going around," He then downed his beer.

"The flu has a better dating strategy than me," She joked, and they both laughed.

"So, I'm thinking about getting out of here and getting turnt," He smirked at her as he tossed his empty bottle in a nearby bin. Some would consider it incredibly rude to dip out on his friends wedding, but the truth was, they'd been there for a few hours by then and the thing was winding down.

An interested eyebrow of Helga's perked as her eyes cut to him, "Where you headed?"

"Uhh...maybe to Buckets, or maybe just home since I'm now a certified loser," He chucked in response.

Helga finished the last of her wine before turning to him, "Want some company?"

Brian snorted, "You forgetting about your date?"

"Something tells me he wont notice," She chuckled, casting Zack one last glance before looking back at her friend.

"No, no, no. He's probably all like..." Helga snorted, red faced and thoroughly wasted, sitting at a bar, "Jee wilikers...you want me to touch you where?"

She and Brian had made there way to Bucket's, where they had planted their butts at the bar and drank like sailors, talking and laughing about a range of topics that got more ridiculous the more drunk they became. Currently, what they thought Stinky was like in bed.

Brian's head was down on his arm, propped on the bar from laughing so hard at the thought, "Or...or...oh my God," He raised himself back up, trying to stop laughing, "What if he was all secretly like that dude from fifty shades of grey?"

Helga's head lolled back on shoulders in laughter, "I...I can't even."

"On their first date he pulls our a butt plug and a ball gag." His friend was laughing even harder, and so was he. "How's about we go to my room of pain," He twanged his voice to mimic their country friend. And it was just too much.

"Oh...great day," Helga finally inhaled, wiping her eyes, "My body hurts now," She said, holding her stomach as she washed some more wine down. "It hurts so good."

"It's funny. I'm happy for him though," Brian admitted, though it was no secret. Their jokes were all in good fun.

"Yeah. I'm glad he found somebody." She smirked, running her finger around the rim of her wine glass, "There really is someone out there for everybody."

"I guess so."

"What? Things seem to be going well with Catherine," Helga pointed out. He was doing better in the dating department that she was. Of course...she already knew who the person out there for her was. The problem was he was on a different continent. Brian, on the other hand, still had his to hunt.

Her guy friend shrugged, "I guess, but, I don't think she's the one. She's great and all but, I don't see it working out long term."

"And why is that?"

"She's very career driven, and that's wonderful but...it also leaves her with little free time, by choice, and...I just think there is more to life that work," He explained, tilting his nth beer bottle up and finishing it off before catching the giggles. He was drunker than he wanted to be, even if he still sounded like he had a semblance of rational thought to him. "Is Arnold still on the table for you?"

Helga rolled her eyes a little, "Always..." Her voice sounded a little more reproachful than she intended it to.

"Why? There's somebody else out there. Per your words."

"No, I said there's someone out there for everybody. As in, one single person that's meant for you."

Brian snorted and motioned for the bartender to bring him another, "You're such a hopeless romantic. And a word nerd."

"Hey..." Helga feigned offense, a smirk drawing at her intoxicated lips, "I...just think that...everybody has their soul mate. A...pre-written story."

"Uh huh..."

"And they have to find them."

"Uh huh..."

"And he's mine, and...I'm his."

"You think so...?"

"And also I think dating is a damn chore."

Brian snorted in laughter, tipping his new beer at her, "There it is," He laughed a little more, "You're right though. It is a chore."

His friend peered at him for a few seconds before sighing, chortling and downing the last of her wine glass. She was pretty sure she was about to polish off an entire bottle at that point, "Maybe we're just too picky, Brian. Maybe that's our problem. Unrealistic standards."

"Or maybe we have...reasonable standards?" He offered up instead.

"I think I like that better," She clicked her tongue at him with a pointed index finger and a wink. The bartender topped her off again and she took another sip before sighing, "Ugh-gah...thirty is around the corner too."

"And?"

"And I'm fearful of looking like I don't have my life together by then."

"How do you think I feel?" Brian remarked. "I'm an only child, and a reasonably successful pilot. But despite all that, my parents get the most excited looking when I date a girl for more than a few month."

Helga chuckled, "I do have the benefit of my parents not giving a shit."

"Must be nice..."

"Kind of...yeah," Helga then snorted.

"It's like they are afraid that I'm lonely or something."

Helga's alcohol riddled mind suddenly recalled something she'd read a few years back. Maybe it had been triggered by the word 'lonely.' She didn't know. She could only laugh, "I once read a story of a pair of friends that made this...this pact or something of sorts that, if they hit thirty and they both were still single they'd just marry one another and be done with it."

Brian started chuckling, "Where did you read that?"

"I don't know...like...buzzfeed or something."

"Oh course."

"I think they actually went through with it too. Pretty wack though right?"

"Wack, but I can see the appeal."

"What appeal? Who is so lonely that they would agree to marry someone they don't even have romantic feelings for?"

He gave her a toothy smile while giggling, "Exactly. It's like...the perfect motivation to get off your butt and date other people. And date like your life depends on it too."

Helga started laughing and nodding, "True, true. I probably need some motivation like that," She tipped her wine glass up.

"No kidding," Brian agreed before thinking of something even more hilarious, "You know what we should do?" He stopped because he started laughing so hard, "We should make that pact."

"Oh my God..." Helga snorted, rolling her eyes. "...No."

"What? It'll be fun."

"Noooo."

"We'll marry each other at thirty if we fail at this whole dating business. It'll light a fire under our asses."

Helga just looked at him, all red-faced with drunkenness before shaking her head, "God we are so...turnt, and...pathetic."

"I know!" He wheezed between laughter, "But it makes perfect sense right now."

Helga took a deep breath, downing enough alcohol to make it seem like a good idea before giving him the most considering look she was capable of in her drunken state, "You have yourself a deal, Miller." She held her wine out for him to toast.

"To...to our love lives." He clinked her glass.

Six Month Later.

Another Saturday night, another night he'd be spending alone, and dateless because of a pick-up shift. That had kind of been the last straw for him. He knew it wasn't her attention to treat their relationship like crap, it was her literally trying to battle her way through the dregs of rookie nursing and establish herself, but he needed to feel like two people were involved in this thing.

Luckily, Eugene was available to take his already purchased movie ticket, and the night was salvaged.

Even if the chapter of Catherine in his life effectively got hauled off by the wrecker.

Another Six Months.

Helga stood at the bar of the rooftop lounge she'd agreed to meet a few of her work friends at for a late happy hour, waiting to retrieve a few more cocktails for her small group over by the tall bistro tables. She was now a full fledged professor, teaching several different English literature courses at the university of Hillwood.

She'd also bought her own little town house and was at the point in her life were she felt adult and responsible enough to consider getting a pet. Maybe a cat. Something relatively self sufficient but more loving than say...a fish. It was still up in the air.

Still single though.

Ever single.

And dating hadn't gotten much better. Her professional life was going great. Her love life however, lonelier than a wizard with a shadowy backstory, living an off-the-grid life in a cottage in some fantasy world.

It was complicated. She didn't feel like dwelling on it though.

And still no Arnold. But she wasn't bitter about it...mostly.

"Hey Helga..." She heard her name and turned to see...one of those complications smiling brightly at her as he walked up.

"Jared," She tried to force her voice to sound as enthused as possible, but she was the type that hated running into people. Unless is was a member of her gang. Otherwise she'd army crawl through a produce section to escape a supermarket if she thought you were in the cereal aisle.

It was complicated...and mildly ridiculous.

"How's it going?" She followed up, sounding cordial. They had no bad blood. She'd broken up with him four months prior, citing her busy work schedule and novel writing, but truthfully, it was because he came from a marathon family.

The type that were always doing some sort of 5k or 10k all times of the year and especially around holidays. A damn nightmare is what it was. She could never see herself liking him enough to want to commit to such torture year round.

She was fit, because she ate well and was blessed with a decent metabolism, but she preferred to keep her running to the bare minimum. Like...for her life only if at all possible.

"Doing well, how about you?"

Small talk. Yay..."Same old, same old."

The tall guy nodded, still smiling, "How's the book coming?"

"Slowly but surely."

Brian pried his eyes open to the mid-morning light, not immediately recognizing where he was, but having the odd feeling in the center of his gut that he'd really stooped to a new low. He just had to get his barrings about him. He was not the most graceful waker in the morning. Usually acting like he'd been stirred from the dead. The decor was bohemian looking, he could tell that.

Slowly, he remembered going on the date the night prior, and pretty quickly ending up back at her place after she'd 'jumped his bones,' so to speak.

He suddenly felt the subtle tickle of something brushing across the palm of his hand, along with a very light humming coming from a girl. Picking his head up, he blinked a few times and looked over to the sensation, seeing the hippy looking girl he'd hooked up with before trailing a small crystal rock across the lines in his palm. "Um..." He murmured.

Girl, who he finally remembered was named Sage, smirked and batted her eyes up at him casually, "You know...in a past life we were lovers too."

Brian blinked his eyes a few more times, not really sure what she was talking about...or doing with that rock thing on his hand, "What?"

"Your lines. They are the footprints of your energy. And our energy desires to be together once again."

With widening eyes, Brian slowly withdrew his hand from her clutches, "...okay." So, this girl was nuts.

August - One year later.

It was Friday night and Helga Pataki had a birthday party to attend to. Brian's to be more exact. The big three-oh. Which didn't happen officially until Saturday, but a few of them were to be out of town so, the ever thoughtful gang had orchestrated a surprise early shindig for him at their favorite watering hole that evening. She was rather looking forward to it. It had been a long week on campus. It was the start of the fall semester and things were hectic. And she was anything but back in the swing of things yet.

So, needless to say she was excited about the party. If for nothing more than to just blow off steam.

She made her way into the bar, gift in tow, a tad before her expected arrival time and to see many if not most of her friends already gathered around the tables that had been shoved together in the corner. A cake had been set out. A delicious looking deep brown confection containing twelve kinds of chocolate and all three types of diabetes.

In other words, heavenly. She was definitely having a slice.

She sat her gift—a vinyl record she knew he'd been hunting—down along with the others at the end of the tables and joined in the pre-festivities of drinking and chatting about everybody's work week...or kids. Quite a few of those little boogers had popped up in the last few years. She had six nieces and nephews by then, and not one of them was blood related. Had to love tight nit groups.

It wasn't very long before Phoebe caught sight of Brian walking through the front doors and turned to everybody, "Oh! He's here!"

Once he'd caught sight of them all over in the corner, they all smiled and shouted, "Happy birthday!"

Brian could only shake his head, smirking and looking slightly embarrassed as he crossed the room, "I can't say I'm surprised at you all."

"Hey, he wasn't surprised everyone!" Sid turned around to the gang and said in a smart-ass tone, "Pack it up!"

"Happy dirty thirty, Brian," Helga walked up beside him and elbowed him with a laugh. "Welcome to the old geezers club."

Her friend chuckled, grabbing himself a beer out of one of the buckets the other guys had pitched in for, "I'm awaiting my AARP magazine subscription any day now."

"Well, I'll give you some tips," Gerald slung her arm over his shoulder, "You're going to wake up tomorrow, and everything is going to ache...for no reason."

"Yeah, I think that might be because you have three kids," Harold stared at them, very unconvinced that there was any other reason.

Gerald rolled his eyes, shooing their pudgy friend away, "Ignore his ass, it's a real thing."

"Just get ready to chomp advil," Helga chimed in with a chuckle, to which Gerald did that snap point thing, signalling that he agreed fully. "And for raisin-bran to appear in your pantry along with the odd urge to add a banana to it."

"Wow..." Brian sarcastically gushed, "Thirty sounds so enchanted."

"Smart ass..."

Brian trudged into this apartment later that night. They hadn't burned the midnight oil, they rarely did anymore, what with half of the gang having kids to tend to in the mornings. It was fine with him. He wasn't much of a night owl as he'd used to be anyhow.

He went through his normal wind down routine before retiring to his bed, where he flipped the TV on and let it play some crime show at a very low volume. He liked the narrators voice. It tended to lull him to sleep quite nicely. But as he lay there on his back, staring up at his twirling ceiling fan, his mind focused on one thing.

When he woke up in the morning, he'd be thirty. It shouldn't have been that big of deal, it was just another day after all, but it felt like something major was suppose to happen. He was a quarter of the way through his life—hopefully—wasn't there supposed to be a new milestone to cross?

His friends were all moving forward with their lives, having families, creating memories with their spouses that they'd look back fondly on in their elder years. He...went to work, went home and went out a few times a week with said friends.

It was sort of a lonely existence once the doors closed. He wasn't unhappy, or depressed by any stretch of the imagination, but he felt like he could be happier.

Maybe he needed a pet or...a roommate to conversate with on a regular basis. Or...

His mind suddenly opened up a drawer to a stored memory he'd all but forgotten. It made him laugh. Surprisingly it was just as funny as it had been two years ago. The stupid little pact that he and Helga had made, three sheets to the wind, after leaving Stinky and Amy's wedding.

If they hit thirty, and were still alone, they would just...marry each other.

Made in good fun of course, and a rather ridiculous proposal to begin with, even if somebody else out there had done it—folks were crazy these days—but the idea of it all kept twinkling in his brain, to the point where he began thinking about it so hard that his nighttime fatigue suddenly evaporated.

Pretending for a moment that it was absolutely ludicrous, how bad, realistically, would it actually be marrying a friend out of, well for lack of any better way of terming it, convenience?

And just like that, he's phone had crept from his bedside table to his face, illuminating his wonder in his eyes with its pale blue light as he typed in 'marriage pact' to the search bar, hoping to maybe pull up the original story that Helga had read.

Saturday Morning.

He wouldn't say that he'd spent the rest of the night thinking about it, but he'd spent a fair amount of brain power on it before dozing off. Enough to where when he woke up, it was still on his mind. He had managed to locate a story that probably was the one Helga had spoke of. The ages were right and the way the story read, it didn't really sound all that wack.

He got dressed and went out to grab something for breakfast, because his culinary talents consisted of scrambled eggs and and sandwiches, neither of which he wanted that morning. Indeed, he was no stranger to breakfast, lunch and dinner spots around locally...and non-locally too since he traveled quite a bit. A quick trip through the McDonald's drive-thru, and two McGriddles in the parking lot later—it made no sense, he should have just eaten inside—he was still thinking about that pact.

Thinking about it so hard that next thing he knew, his truck seem to be suddenly pulling up to the front of Helga's little town house. He was never the type to just 'stop by.' Who did that anymore? He barely called anyone, like everybody else in his generation, preferring to text, much less just showed up at somebody's house.

He could have just gone home and texted her, but that was just stupid. He was already there. And figuring he couldn't just sit there without out her maybe peeking out the window and seeing him there and it getting even weirder, he opted to just park his truck and go ring her doorbell.

Hopefully she wasn't busy.

What was he saying? Of course she wasn't busy. It was 9:00am on a Saturday morning and she was single. Like him, what could she possibly have going on?

He skipped up her short stoop and rang her bell, feeling his heart began to beat rather hard at that point. A few moments later, and after he saw her peek through the curtains on the rectangular side windows bordering each side of the door, she opened it up. With coffee mug in hand and a surprised expression on her face she asked, "Brian? What's uh...what's going on?"

To be fair, he had every intention of being a little more apologetic about his unannounced visit, but the moment his lips parted ways, the point of his trip just fell right out. "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?"

At that, Helga sort of thinned her eyes, but he could tell she did remember the conversation either. "Yeah...so?" She cocked her head a bit, very confused as to why he was standing there on her porch, that early in the morning inquiring about something they'd done while shellacked at a bar. Mostly because she wasn't even three sips into that cup of coffee and the very obvious dots hadn't clicked yet.

"Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today..." He trailed off, just watching her blink, "Big ole three-oh..." He trailed off again, and she continued to stare at him, "Or as you said...the dirty thirty."

Click.

"Oh my God..."

A/N: Well, there it is. First chapter. I know, its probably a little off the wall of a plot and, lets face it a little far fetched, but it seemed like something that would really lend itself for a romantic comedy. Yes, yes I know! I kind of ditched Arnold and made him seem like a bad guy, but it was the most organic way I could get him out of the picture here. Anyway, please let me know your thoughts, and thanks for taking the time to read!