Disclaimer: The Hey Arnold characters belong to Craig Bartlett, and to him alone. That his characters have inspired such hubris in me that would see me attempt a fan fiction based on them, speaks volumes of my reverence of the man.

Author's Note: Rhonda: From 'like' to 'like like' was originally intended as a one-shot, but the story stats (not to mention Orange Ratchet's veiled request for a follow-up) prompted what you're about to read. I reckoned the best opportunity for a follow-up would be sometime after 'Rhonda Goes Broke' so I ran with that premise. Enjoy.

Rhonda II: I Like You And I Hate It

Saturday: A day of rest.

Or for Arnold, a day of recreation.

The day had started ordinarily enough. Wake up, wash, breakfast, chores. His morning belonged to the boarding house; the afternoon was his. Only he'd have no-one with whom to share it. Gerald and his family were out of town visiting some or other distant relative. Sid and the boys…who knew what crackpot scheme those guys were concocting this time? Eugene would cost a fortune in medical bills as usual.

So here Arnold was, flying his kite on a blustery early winter's day somewhere in Tina Park. Not that he was complaining. He enjoyed the solitude. He enjoyed the concentration required to keep the kite in flight; it was almost…meditative…and he felt his mind slip into deep relaxation. Into thought. Thoughts of Rhonda.

Wait, what? Rhonda?

He cringed as he recalled his botched attempt at kissing her in the rain. Since then…well, they didn't speak as much to each other, nor were they actively avoiding each other. Maybe they were pretending that the kiss – OK, his half-hearted attempt at one – had never happened. He'd had a chance to bring up the matter when her family went broke and moved into The Sunset Arms. Only, she was at her most vulnerable at the time and so he felt it inappropriate to raise that matter when she had more pressing concerns. So he opted instead to offer her his moral support.

Then her family got their fortune back – something he later heard had to do with "bull markets" and "risk appetite", whatever those meant – and suddenly she was out of the boarding house and off to Aspen.

That was a week ago.

"There you are!" the voice broke his Zen-like focus. He turned in its direction and saw Rhonda approaching with purpose in her eyes and in her stride. "They told me at the boarding house I might find you here!"

She was at the boarding house? "You were at the boarding house?" he asked. Looking for him? "Looking for me?"

"Yes, Arnold, looking for you!" She sounded agitated, but there was no trace of her usual haughtiness.

"Do you need something, Rhonda? Anything I can help with?"

"You can help by listening to me!" she proclaimed, which was fine by him as he had started reeling the kite in and couldn't do much else. "You ruined my trip to Aspen, you know that?"

Arnold's expression conveyed weapons-grade confusion: "I'm sorry, what?"

"I mean, it was a great time. I spent the days skiing with the cutest ski instructors and getting pampered head to toe in the spas and shopping for the most gorgeous clothes and accessories."

"And those are bad things?" his confusion had not subsided in the slightest.

"Well, no…" her agitation wasn't aiding her coherence. "Night times I was partying with several handsome boys. Rich, cool and always around me, always wanting to talk to me! It was fabulous!"

"Rhonda, you're not making sense," Arnold interjected.

But Rhonda was on a roll: "…Only…it wasn't. Just talk talk talk about what they have and what Daddy bought them and how much better they are than everyone else and how beautiful my hair is and how lovely my evening gown is and…"

"Rhonda, please!" Arnold insisted, abandoning the kite and letting it drop. "You're rambling! Just pause for a moment! Catch your breath for a while!" He placed his hands on her shoulders as if to stabilize her.

"It's just…as I spoke to them night after night I kept thinking of you! It's like you care about me as a person or something like that, even when I was p-p-poor!" Saying that last word made her sound queasy.

"Well, yeah," he conceded. "Look, you're pretty, you're tough, you're strong-willed. You can go toe-to-toe with even the fifth-graders in football. You're just…awesome!" And just where did he find that burst of heartfelt honesty?

"Stop it, Arnold!" A genuine plea, not the vacuous denial that was usually a call for more flattery. "That's why you ruined my vacation! I looked at those boys and always wondered, 'could they like me like Arnold'? Would they want to kiss me in the rain even when I'm a muddy mess? Suddenly I couldn't stand being around them and just wanted to get out of there! So I could do this."

Arnold's hands were still on Rhonda's shoulders, so he could not stop her from cupping her hands on the back of his head and leaning down to kiss him fully on his lips. He felt jolts of electric joy travel up his spine to his brain, where they were interpreted as pure distilled bliss. His brain instructed him to tighten his grip on her shoulders and pull her closer, which he dutifully did to no resistance from her this time. The kiss lingered…and lingered… until Rhonda pulled back and announced with a somewhat weary smile: "See what you made me do?"

Arnold, who was grinning like a fool, replied: "Yeah, shame on me."

A sense of realization mingled with Rhonda's weariness: "So, where to now?"

"I'm not sure. How about somewhere for some cocoa? It's starting to get a bit chilly." Which it was.

"Oh Arnold, that's not what I meant, but it sounds like a plan."

"Let me just get my kite first," said Arnold as he extricated himself to do just that. He then turned to see Rhonda stood with an outstretched arm. "Well?" she asked in a feigned demanding tone. "Isn't this what couples do when they go out?"

"Why yes, I believe so," replied Arnold in joy and amusement.

And hand in hand they left the park, for cocoa and for come what may.