15 Going on 25

Present Day

Helga Pataki couldn't fight the tears that were threatening to spill over her cheeks as she recalled the events that had unfolded just the week prior. Her knuckles were turning white as she gripped the steering wheel of her car tightly. She couldn't believe it.

The words replayed in her mind over and over like a broken film: "We're in love. I love him, Helga. I'm sorry."

Helga glanced at the divorce files that lay in the passenger's seat next to her. How had things come to this? They used to be so in love. When did it all change? They had gotten through so many obstacles just to be together and this was how it all ended? Helga felt like she was trapped in some nightmare that she couldn't wake up from.

As she continued to stare at the divorce files, Helga imagined her husband kissing the other woman, touching her the way he used to touch Helga. She imagined him coming home and kissing her with the same lips he had just kissed his mistress with. Automatically, Helga felt sick to her stomach as hot bile started to rise in her throat. Tears began clouding her eyes and she felt her heart ripping from inside her chest.

Helga was so lost in staring at the divorce files that she didn't notice the car coming towards her. Suddenly, she heard the loud blast of a car horn. When she looked up, she saw a car swerve into the lane in front of her. She let out a scream as she tried to avoid it, but her own car spun out of control and ended up going head-on into the next lane, right into oncoming traffic. Her screams drowned out the sound of metal colliding against metal.

The last thing Helga saw were the two blinding lights of beamers.

August 2004

"Hey batter batter, hey batter batter, hey!"

Fifteen-year-old Helga stood tall against the baseball plate. It was the summer before their second year of high school and she had certainly changed in appearance.

Though she was still on the thinner side of the spectrum, Helga's curves had started to come in as puberty worked its magic. Despite the signature unibrow she still proudly sported, she was starting to become an attractive girl. Thick lashes framed her clear emerald eyes and her skin was creamy and unblemished. Her long, silken blonde hair that she had once used to tie into atrocious pigtails now hung loosely around her shoulders.

Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd had once told her that if she just plucked her eyebrow and dressed up she might actually look... well, pretty. Pretty? Helga could have snorted at the thought. What a bunch of phooey.

Helga didn't want to be pretty. She didn't want to be some fragile doll that guys drooled over like little Miss Lila Sawyer. She was Helga G. Pataki and always would be. So she hid her blossoming curves under a loose long sleeved pink shirt and covered her long shapely legs in a pair of jeans.

The gang had all grown up along with her, Arnold especially. Having hit his growth spurt over the summer, Arnold now towered over her. His once boyish features were now becoming more rugged like a man's. Nonetheless, there were some things that never changed and that was her attitude towards him.

"Criminy, Football Head, we haven't got all day!" she yelled out to Arnold who stood across from her, readying his bat.

Helga then stretched her arm back as she threw the baseball across the field.

"Sttriiike one!" Stinky yelled out.

"My 80-year-old grandma could hit better than you, Arnoldo!" Helga taunted. She threw the ball again.

"Striiikke two!"

"What's the matter, Football Head? You got a run in your pantyhose?" Helga chuckled.

Arnold squinted at her from across the field. He tightened his grip on the ends of his baseball bat and held his stance. "Just throw the ball, Helga," Arnold said through gritted teeth.

"Suit yourself, Arnoldo... if you can handle it, that is," Helga smirked as she threw a fast-ball his way.

The ball made a solid thwacking noise as it made contact with the hard wood of Arnold's baseball bat. It sailed through the air and aimed straight for Helga. Hitting her square in the forehead, Helga felt her eyes roll backward and her body weaken as she collapsed to the ground.

"Helga!" she heard Arnold yell.

All around her, it went pitch black.

Present Day

Helga opened her eyes slowly. Where was she? She looked down at herself and was surprised to see herself wearing a clean, white hospital gown. She looked around the room confusedly. It was just a typical, starch white hospital room.

"Helga," a man said as he stumbled into her room. "Oh, thank God!"

He was out of breath as though he had run all the way here. The man appeared to be in his mid to late twenties and had blonde hair that was neatly combed back. Something about him seemed awfully familiar but she just couldn't place where she had ever seen him before.

"...Who are you?" Helga uttered softly.

"So now you're going to pretend you don't even know me? Is that it?" the blonde man scoffed. His eyes reflected hurt and anger and Helga couldn't figure out why he was looking at her this way and who he was. The man's expression softened as he looked her over. "Are you alright, though? You're not hurt?"

"Seriously, who are you, mister?" Helga repeated, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"What? 'Mister?' Helga, drop the act. Don't you think you've said enough already?" the man furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"Look, mister, I really think you've got the wrong room," Helga tried to protest.

"Stop it already, Helga!" he suddenly yelled. "I know you're just doing this to aggravate me! You said you wanted to forget that I even existed and now you're even going so far as to forget your own husband'sface?!"

"Hus... hus... husband?! Are you crazy?!" Helga yelled out. "Mister, I'm only fifteen for Christ's sake!"

"Fif... fifteen?" the man stuttered in shock. Now it was his turn to look at her with absolute bewilderment. The man looked at her up and down as if to question whether Helga was really telling the truth. He scanned her face for any sign of a lie but found none at all. Then, his mouth opened slightly in surprise.

"Helga, I think we ought to call the doctor in here."

"So, you really don't know this person?" the doctor motioned to the blonde man who stood next to him.

"Like I keep telling ya doc, no, I really don't know him!" Helga said exasperatedly.

"So, you don't remember anything at all?" the doctor noted on his clipboard as he stood at her bedside.

"It's not that I don't remember; I've just never seen this guy before in my life, alright?" Helga scowled as she crossed her arms.

"Okay, well then do you remember how you ended up here?"

"Of course I do! It's all because of that creep, Football Head," Helga explained as she rolled her eyes.

The blonde man whipped his head around and stared at her strangely at the sentiment.

"'Football Head?'" the doctor continued, ignoring the man's reaction.

"Yeah, this kid named Arnold. He beaned me right in the head with a baseball and that's all I remember. Look, can I go now? I'm gonna miss Wrestlemania."

"Well, wait just a second; I have a few more questions. What year is it?"

"Criminy, doc, it's 2004!"

The doctor and the blonde man exchanged looks and then stared back at her. Helga scowled at them. What was with these bozos? Why were they looking at her like she was a basket case?

"I think we need to conduct a few tests and x-ray scans," the doctor concluded.

As Helga was forcibly sent back to her room, Arnold and the doctor now sat in the office to discuss the results of the patient's MRI scans.

"Fortunately, your wife does not have any brain damage," the doctor explained as he motioned to parts of Helga's brain on the scan. "However, she appears to be suffering from a form of amnesia which is typically caused by car accidents. She's having the inability to recall parts of her memory.

"So, what happens now?" the blonde man inquired, wringing his hands in concernment. "When do you think her memory will return?"

"I can't tell you exactly when; we'll just have to wait and see. There are some cases where the memories just spontaneously return but in others... it may be permanent."

Arnold's mouth fell agape as he heard the diagnosis. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. She couldn't possibly not remember him... right?

Later that day, the man had all but managed to drag Helga from the hospital to their house after the doctor had cleared her for discharge. It had been quite an ordeal. For some reason, Helga believed that she was being kidnapped.

"Helga, we both could've been killed!" Arnold scolded her as they both came through the front door. "Don't touch the steering wheel when I'm driving."

"Mister, please just let me go!" Helga cried out desperately. "My old man owns a cell phone franchise; he'll give you all the money you want if you just let me go home!"

The blonde man sighed and rubbed his temples. "This is your home, Helga.

"This is not my house! Look bucko, I don't know who you are, but I took some karate lessons. This is kidnapping!"

"Helga, we're married!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, I'm FIFTEEN!" Helga screamed.

"I think you should sit down," the man motioned to the couch.

"Oh no way, pal. I'm not sitting down anywhere until you tell me who you are and what you want."

"Helga, you are not fifteen; you're twenty-five!" the man groaned in frustration.

"Twenty-five?" Helga snorted. "Yeah, and I'm a monkey's mother."

"Look in the mirror," Arnold sighed as he pointed to the mirror across the room.

Helga turned around and peered into the mirror. She drew a sharp intake of air as she stared at the strange woman staring back at her in the reflection. Her once pin-straight blonde hair now fell in soft waves and she no longer had the unibrow. Helga felt her face and her hair before she clamped both her hands to each side of her cheek and let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Helga, just try to relax," the man grabbed her arm gently and lead her to the couch.

"Relax? Relax?" Helga practically screamed with her eyes bulging. "I just woke up a decade older! How do you expect me to relax?!"

"I know it's a lot to take in," the man said understandingly. "You've been under a lot of stress. The doctor says you have amnesia, but I'm sure your memories will return soon. You just need to try to stay calm."

Helga took a deep inhale of air and breathed out slowly trying to take the man's advice. He was right. As much as she wanted to freak out right now, that wasn't going to help things in any way. She didn't know or understand how she ended up like this but she had to try to calm herself.

"So... so who are you?" Helga reiterated, feeling a little less frazzled.

"It's me," the man answered, "Arnold."

"Ar-Arnold?" Helga gasped. "Football Head?"

"Yeah!" Arnold brightened and pointed to himself. "See? Same football shaped head."

"Well... gee, it really is you isn't it?" Helga replied with wide eyes.

She stared at him intently. No wonder he looked so familiar. Now that she took another look at him, she could see the resemblances. It was definitely Arnold, but older.

"Do you remember now, Helga?" Arnold said.

"Oh, I remember alright, bucko," Helga glared. "I remember everything"

"Everything?" Arnold sighed, "Okay look, I'm sorry, Helga. I really am. To tell the truth, after I let you go like that I regretted it a lot. But you have to know that I never did anything like what you're thinking of. It's all a huge misunderstanding; you've gotta believe me."

"What are you yapping about, hair-boy? I mean I remember you socking me in the face with that baseball. I oughta pound you!" Helga raised her fists.

"Helga?" Arnold nervously laughed as he backed away slowly.

"Come here, Football Head, you're dead!" Helga yelled as she stumbled over something. "Ow!" she cried out as she grabbed her stubbed toe.

"You okay, Helga?" Arnold asked, grabbing her arm again.

Ignoring him for the moment, Helga instead bent down to pick up the object she had tripped over. It was a picture frame. Helga's jaw almost dropped when she saw the wedding photo that the frame contained. More specifically, it was her and Arnold's wedding photo.

"We... we're really married?" Helga managed to choke out. She started to see little black dots as her heart rate started to go up.

"Well, uh... yeah, that's what I've been saying," Arnold muttered sheepishly as he rubbed his head.

For the second time that day, Helga felt her knees go weak as she fainted dead away.