Chapter Ten: What Will Tomorrow Hold?

Arnold stared at his reflection in the small window near the stoop of Helga's house. He was dressed in his usual, ordinary clothes with a few stains here and there but he wasn't worried about that. It was the fear and trepidation that was showing on his face that made him concerned about his appearance. He wanted to don the look of utmost composure before facing Helga so that she would take him seriously and not think him a spineless coward asking for forgiveness out of fear. Unfortunately, Arnold could not force his face to look less pale; therefore, he resignedly pulled himself away from the window and transplanted himself in front of Helga Pataki's door.

This was it. After Mr. Simmons' announcement earlier in the day, all Arnold could think about was this moment when he would try to privately talk to Helga. Although he had run multiple scenarios through his mind of this moment, his imagination was always left short due to Helga's unpredictability. Nonetheless, he decided that he would just wing it and face things head on because nothing at this point could stop him from the possible suicidal path that he was planning to travel on. Arnold was going to make things right between him and Helga no matter what Helga or anyone else says. It was this determination that had brought him to her doorstep and it was this determination that now made him decide not to delay the moment any longer. With two quick jabs from his fingers, Arnold rang the doorbell and waited with bated breath for the arrival of a familiar blonde.

He did not have to wait long. In a moment or two, the door wildly swung open to reveal a tall, lean girl whose jaw slacked visibly the moment her eyes settled on his face. Arnold gulped but did not falter from her gaze. Instead, he looked directly into her eyes and in a level voice that betrayed no other emotion, he said, "Helga, I want to talk to you."

The blonde said nothing. Instead, she stood there expressionless, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms and observing his face. This apparent lack of reaction towards him unnerved Arnold who had expected an immediate outburst. Yet Helga was showing no sign of saying or doing anything and so his mind fumbled around a bit as he tried to figure out how to continue with this new development. But he didn't have the time. Arnold did not want to lose his one-person audience before he could have his say; therefore, he quickly delved into a ceaseless, unrehearsed, panicked chatter instead.

Wringing his hands, Arnold blurted, "I-I'm very sorry, Helga! I'm sorry I hurt you yesterday and for pulling those pranks on you. I was just so fed up when you had taken your anger out on me and my friends and it made me frustrated that you didn't even say sorry. But you still didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve to be humiliated like that. And I was wrong to say those things about you and your parents and Phoebe. Phoebe does love you and so do your parents. I wasn't thinking right when I said it. Everything that came out of my mouth was wrong, unjustified, and uncalled for. And…..and I'm really, really sorry about that, Helga! I…..I….I just….I don't know what came over me! I didn't even think about your own feelings and hurt you so much. You really didn't deserve that. I'm sorry, Helga."

Arnold panted slightly from the flood of words that flowed from his mouth. He knew he was being repetitive but he was desperate as well. He was desperate for her to understand his regret and sincerity. Yet as Arnold looked up at Helga's uncaring and distant demeanor, all of his hopes vanished as well as anything else that he wished to say. Only silence and Helga's intense but unreadable gaze weighed heavily on him.

After a moment, Helga finally spoke.

"Are you done?" she asked coldly. Arnold flinched at the severe tone but nodded hesitantly. In truth, he had plenty more to say but he needed her to be responsive as well. Her silence had made it difficult to gauge out the level of her anger and to figure out how to talk without further aggravating it.

Helga, however, spared him of the trouble. Suddenly smiling sardonically, she uncrossed her arms and stepped back while extending her arm towards the back of the door. Arnold's brows knitted in confusion at her actions but when he saw the muscles in her arm begin to flex, he instinctively knew the course of action she was about to take and without hesitation, he extended his arm out towards the door to prevent it from slamming right in his face.

"Helga, wait!" he cried out. He could not let her shut him out like this, especially when he was prepared to fix things between them. But alas, he was too late. Her hand had been quicker than his outstretched arm and within the next second, there was the sickening crunch of several bones being crushed in the deathtrap between the door and its frame. In an instant, Arnold's eyes stretched wide open and the color drained from his face as he quickly stuffed a fist in his mouth to stifle the bloodcurdling scream that threatened to resonate across the neighborhood. Even as spasms of pain shot up across his arm and pools of tears collected in his eyes, Arnold did everything in his willpower to keep himself as quiet as possible. Luckily, he was not quiet enough to attract Helga's attention behind the closed door who had immediately wrenched it open when she heard the crunching sound followed by a low, guttural howl. She stood there shocked as Arnold pulled his bloodied hand towards himself and staggered down the stoop until he crumbled on the concrete floor sobbing convulsively. The very sight of blood flowing down his forearm made her freeze in horror.

It wasn't until Arnold weakly raised his head up a second later and implored her with pleading tearful eyes for help that she snapped out of her reverie. Without thinking, Helga took two large strides, swooped down and roughly pulled him up by the arm. Her legs shook terribly and her eyes were wildly glazed, but it did not stop her from yanking Arnold into her house and up the stairs to the second floor until they reached her bedroom where she unceremoniously dumped him on her bed. A small part of her consciousness was informing her that the blonde boy was hurt and that handling him roughly would do no good but Helga's body couldn't control her actions. She was far too deep in shock to even attempt to be gentle. All she could do was follow her instincts.

With that, Helga turned on her heels and strode out of the bedroom until she reached the bathroom. There, with fumbling fingers, she wrenched a cabinet open and pulled out every medicine, gauze wrap, and bandages that she could get her hands on. Cradling these items in her arms, she quickly walked back to her bedroom where she saw Arnold hunched over her bed with eyes showcasing pain that she couldn't even fathom. The whole scene wrenched her heart but Helga did not dare to dwell on the feeling. Instead, she wordlessly moved by his side and pulled his bloodied hand into her own whereupon she examined it.

A large portion of the skin on his hand had been scraped clean to reveal a raw, pink epidermal layer that continued to ooze large portions of blood out with no sign of stopping. Helga shuddered at the sight and uncapped a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Not caring that she was going to soil her own bed with the liquid, she poured it over his wounds and let it soak her bed sheets. Meanwhile, Arnold tightly clenched his teeth as a stinging sensation burned wildly on his hand. The pain consumed him so much so that he didn't even realize how ironic the current situation was. Instead of trying to seek forgiveness from Helga and most likely being shunned like he had expected, he was being attended to for his pain by the least likely girl on the planet. It was mindboggling and only in hindsight would Arnold marvel at the sudden change of events. But for now, he let the blond girl silently soak his hand clean and carefully wrap it in gauge and bandages as his sobs and whimpering gradually diminished.

After she was done, by which the numbing shock had worn off and her previous sense of self returned, Helga finally spoke. Raising her eyes levelly to look at him, she quietly said, "Your stupidity never fails to amaze me."

Arnold, who had been examining his newly bandaged hand, also raised his eyes up towards her. He stared at her for a moment before simply saying, "I just didn't want you to shut me out."

Helga raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And you didn't think that was justified on my part?"

Arnold grimaced but inwardly, he was elated that Helga was talking to him calmly and voluntarily. Careful to keep it that way, he said, "It was. But if I let you do that, then I'd have to wait until tomorrow to try again. And I couldn't wait that long."

At these words, Helga smirked suddenly. However, anxiety flashed through Arnold who was wary of the action, having been on the receiving end of her new bout of unpredictability lately. And he was right to feel that way when Helga mockingly said, "Is that so? Your guilty conscience couldn't hold up for another day? Oh poor you. You should have said so earlier in your tirade. I could have helped your tormenting soul a lot quicker!"

Arnold watched in amazement as Helga quickly jumped to her feet and a hateful expression settled on her features. In a business-like tone, she said, "Let me tell you a little something, Footballhead. You humiliated me and I wordlessly let you apologize to free your conscience. You hurt yourself partly because of me and I did my part in fixing it up. We're even now. We don't have physical nor emotional IOUs to each other anymore. In short, we have nothing to do with each other. So now that we're free of each other, I want you to get out of my house and out of my life for once and for all."

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling defeated. He had somehow selfishly hoped that in lieu of the recent incident with his hand and Helga's response to it that her anger would lessen to a degree where he could reasonably acquire her forgiveness. But Helga Pataki was far too wounded to even forget her pain and it made Arnold feel helpless. Nevertheless, he had come this far in (almost literally!) and he wasn't going to leave until he made sure that she was going to be on speaking terms with him for the days to come.

Arnold stood up directly in front of Helga. Looking at her with unwavering eyes, he said, "Fine. If that's how you want it to be, then so it will be."

"Then leave," responded Helga in an equally challenging tone.

Arnold smiled. "Not yet, Helga. We haven't settled the score yet. You let me apologize and you helped mend my hand….but you still have ten years of bullying to settle."

Helga's eyes flashed angrily. "What are you talking about? Wasn't humiliating me enough for your revenge?"

Arnold inwardly heaved a heavy sigh. He didn't want to be a jerk to Helga anymore but her stubbornness albeit justified was leaving him no choice but to force her into his ballpark. "No," he said, hating the words slithering painfully out of his mouth. "That was for what you did recently. But what about the ten whole years you had been hurting me constantly? Is a little hand-fixing and your promise of never talking to me again going to be enough to pay back for all that you did?"

Silence reigned in the small room as Arnold watched a medley of emotions from rage to disbelief play out on Helga's face. But it only took a moment for her to finally settle for a disgusted look before lashing out at him. "Fine! Do whatever you want! I don't care anymore! Turn me into your personal slave and make every waking moment of my life a living hell! It's all you can do these days anyway!"

Arnold winced at the hateful words but chose to ignore them and the twinge of sadness that he felt from Helga's overall current view of him. Wasting no time, he decidedly plunged straight into his somewhat original plan. "I don't want to make you into my slave, Helga," he said calmly. "I…I only want you to be my partner for the Spring dance. And if you can be the partner that I want you to be, then I promise that I will never bother you again. You and I can part ways after the dance."

Helga gaped and was about to say something but Arnold raised a hand to silence her. "Since you already agreed that you would let me do whatever I want to settle the score, you cannot object," he said with a slight hint of triumph in his voice. "And I'm only asking you for a simple thing….if you can do it properly, then by the time the dance ends, you will have made up for all those ten years."

Feeling that no more words were necessary, Arnold jostled past her until he reached the bedroom door. With one hand on the doorknob, he turned around for the last time in the evening to face Helga. Expressing all the sincerity in his heart, he smiled and simply said, "Also, thank you for fixing my hand, Helga. I will always remember it."

Arnold turned the doorknob, pulled the door open, and strode out without another word, leaving a dazed Helga in his wake. It was only after she heard the door slam and the reopen again ten minutes later to signal the arrival of her parents from their evening excursion did Helga finally slump down on her bed in wonder.

What will tomorrow hold? was the only question that remained in her mind for the rest of the night.

A/N: Wow. Talk about a long hiatus! Although truthfully, I had abandoned writing fanfiction and it's only by some miracle that I just recently took it up again. You guys, however, shouldn't place much hopes in me updating again. Unless my sudden burst of creativity and random craze to write, write, write without stopping on a long train ride pops up sometime soon, this story might as well be dead again. But who knows what tomorrow holds? Don't answer; it was just a rhetorical question. In any case, I was hit with the sudden desire to write so I pulled this chapter out of my head. Not really a competent writer nor having had practice during the hiatus, I expect this chapter to be one jumbled mess. In fact, I had forgotten the original storyline and ended up having to decide where to go next from scratch. Meh. Maybe it was for the best.

Anyways, there was a lot of tugging and pulling going on in here with two stubborn personas constantly butting heads with each other. And what's with Arnold being so forceful in having things go his way? Well, I figured that he was desperate to make things right as soon as possible. And whenever Arnold is dead set on getting his way, he can pull some tricks here and there. (April Fools dance, anyone?). So I hoped that part of him wasn't too OOC. As for Helga, well, she's a tough cookie. I don't see her forgiving Arnold any time soon no matter what happens (ie, Arnold's crushed hand). So the final question remains. What will tomorrow hold….for Arnold and the future of this story? Even I don't know.