Little Known Ways to Satisfaction - Chapter One

Helga wasn't sure what she hated more: being forced to sit and listen to stories about her sister, Olga, or being forced to sit and listen to stories about her. Either way, she absolutely despised it.

Thanksgiving was always her most hated time of the year. It meant relatives she couldn't stand staying at her house for a week. It meant Miriam cooking something charred in a poor attempt to make stuffing. It meant Bob was even more irritating because his favorite television programs start incorporating special prizes given the holiday. Worst of all, it meant sitting at a table and listening to whatever criticisms her aunts and uncles decide to give her.

"Really, Helga," Her Aunt Muriel started, "you really should start eating more. You're just about as skinny as a twig!"

"I agree, Helga, dear," Her older cousin Jane interjected, "When your sister was your age, she was absolutely stunning! She even had modeling contracts from all the magazines."

Helga's eyes rolled at the sound of her sister's name.

"That's what I always tell the girl! She never listens to me. Unlike her sister, this one is about as stubborn as a mule," Bob agreed boisterously with chunks of turkey in his mouth as he spoke.

"Oh, Bob, stop it," Miriam spoke up, "Helga's only thirteen. When puberty kicks in-"

"Sixteen, Miriam, and I'd rather not start that conversation, please," Helga said, slumping in her seat in embarrassment.

"Helga, you should really show some respect for your parents. What kind of thirteen year old calls her mother by the first name? Do you not teach her anything, Bob?" Uncle Philip asked.

"Stubborn as a mule, I say!" Bob yelled, this time showering the table with chunks of food. "It's too bad Olga had to stay in Africa for Thanksgiving. Now, that daughter knows how to listen!"

The conversation slowly transitioned into Olga's recent accomplishments in Africa. Something about her designing a clean water system that saved some village. Helga didn't know. She zoned out, picking at her food in disinterest. Some of her younger cousins were play-fighting, and the older ones were on their phones. She couldn't help but feel so out of place in a table full of people that looked like her. Eventually, she decided to sneak away from the table and went to her room. She opened up her desk drawer and started writing.

"Football Head,

How are you doing? It's Thanksgiving. It's a little weird not having you around this year. It's getting really cold, but I guess it doesn't really matter to you because it's Spring over there. And it's warm all year. I hope you're having fun spending time with your parents and the Green Eyes tribe.

Do you remember that one year we spent walking around Hillwood? I was upset because my family was being obnoxious (not much has changed), and you were kinda bummed out because you didn't like that your Grandma thought it was Fourth of July and made you eat grilled hotdogs? That was funny. Even when you were upset, you still wanted to look on the bright side and make me feel better.

That Thanksgiving, we decided to crash Mr. Simmon's Thanksgiving with his family. And then blah, blah, blah, at the end of the day, we realized that it didn't matter that our families weren't normal. That was a really sappy year now that I think about it.

Anyway, I hope you're doing well. It wouldn't kill you to visit once in a while.

Helga"

Helga folded the letter and placed it neatly in an envelope, addressing it accordingly. She took out a shoebox underneath her desk and opening it, revealing a myriad of similar-looking envelopes. She placed the letter neatly in the row of letters, covering it up with the lid and returning it back to her desk.

Reflecting back on her adventures with Arnold, Helga couldn't help but feel nostalgic. She missed the boy dearly, but she felt nervous at the thought of actually communicating with him. So, instead of facing her feelings head on, she writes to him without actually writing to him. She decided to take a walk, grabbing her coat from the closet.

Sneaking past her family, Helga slipped through the halls to the front door. The cold air outside was refreshing. The few trees in Hillwood had their leaves turned orange, and the smell of pumpkin and cranberry stuffing wafted through the neighborhood.

She walked towards the old river, watching the third version of the replica of the Mayflower. After watching the first replica get destroyed, the mayor sanctioned a second version that then got destroyed after a pigeon flew through one of the sails and destroyed the leech, crashing it once more into the bridge. Again, the mayor sanctioned another replica, which hopefully, won't fail.

Kicking a stone into the river, Helga sat on the dock and took out her locket, eleven-year-old Arnold's sleepy grin greeting her. She felt her heart flutter, but a rush of sadness waved through her.

"Oh, Arnold, it has been years since my eyes have laid upon your glorious oblong-shaped head. How I wish to lay my arms around you once again!" She sighed. "One day our paths will cross once more and then we shall never be without one another again."

"Really now?"

Helga's heart stopped. She hastily stuffed the locket back into her coat pocket. Turning around, she saw someone she had never thought she would see so abruptly.

"Arnold," she said with her mouth agape.

"Helga," he replied, smiling the same sleepy way he always had.

"When did- How did- What-"

"My parents and I decided to come home for Thanksgiving this year," he said, rubbing his neck, excited to see a familiar face. "How have you been doing?"

Helga, with a plethora of things she wanted to say to him, could only let out a pathetic noise.

"Listen, I really missed you, Helga. I want to talk to you about-"

"Wow, Football Head, slow down. Wow," she interrupted, purposefully cutting him off, knowing what he wanted to talk about.

"Oh, sorry," he blushed. "It's just that I haven't seen you in a while."

"Geez, it's your first Thanksgiving back and you ditch your family? I bet your gramps and gran must be missing you a lot." Helga said, fidgeting, desperately praying that she didn't sound as pitiful as she felt.

"Nah, they understand. They're still cooking the hamburgers, so, I have a while." He answered. "What about you? Bob and Miriam still bothering you?"

Helga shook her head. "Not really. I just wanted to get some fresh air is all."

Arnold made his way towards her and sat next to her. She couldn't help but notice how much he had changed. He was much taller, much fuller than when they were younger. His blue cap was nowhere to be found and his voice, oh God his voice, had deepened so much. His hair was still the same unruly blond from when they were younger, but he was much tanner, and obvious result of constantly being under the sun. She couldn't help but feel self-conscious of her appearance. He had grown more attractive over the years, and she could only hope the same applied to her.

"Helga, how come you never answered any of my letters?" He asked, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Helga didn't answer and nervously tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I sent you so many. Every birthday, every Christmas; no reply from you. What happened?" He asked again.

"Arnold-"

"I don't get it. In San Lorenzo, you told me you loved me, but then again we were only kids," he said, turning to her. "Did you stop liking me?"

Helga's eyes widened and her face flushed. "Arnold, you have to understand. We were eleven. I didn't see you anymore. You didn't see me. We just grew apart. Surely, you must have made a life for yourself over there without me... right?"

Arnold stared at her for the longest time before sighing. "I suppose so."

Helga couldn't help but feel her heart drop in disappointment. But, it was expected. This was the real world.

"But, you know, I never stopped thinking about you. Or everyone for that matter." He said to her.

Helga didn't say anything and watched the sun set in the horizon. She forced herself to imagine that he wasn't there. Otherwise, she would have truly lost her mind. She felt a warm object cover her hand, and she realized that it was his own. He laced his fingers through hers, and she couldn't help but blush.

She retracted her hand from his and got up, leaving Arnold with a sad look on his face.

"I'm sorry for not replying to any of your letters, Arnold. I'll... see you around. Have fun during your stay here." Helga muttered as she walked away.

"Okay, Helga. Thanks," Arnold answered dejectedly.

She was mad. And sad. And angry. And sullen. And furious. And happy.

She didn't even know why. He was here. Finally, after years and years of being Arnold-less, here he is in the flesh, standing in front of her. She should be elated, but a part of her was completely outraged. How dare he come prancing around, pretending that he didn't just leave Hillwood for five years? How dare he hold her hand and ask if she still loved him? Of course she still did, but that didn't mean she wanted to.

Pacing back and forth in her bedroom, Helga grit her teeth and clenched her fists, thinking about the boy. It's not like she never tried to like anyone else. She's dated some. She hasn't hit anyone since San Lorenzo, but most guys in her neighborhood had a hard time picturing her as anything else that the one bully with the unibrow so most avoided her regarding romantic matters. Most of the guys she's dated have been strangers from other schools, or people who have just moved to their high school who had no idea what kind of person she was. But none of them came close to the blond-haired boy.

Stopping to look in her vanity, she examined her face. She wasn't the most attractive girl in the world, but she wasn't the ugliest. She didn't like using makeup except for a little mascara and sometimes lipgloss. It had been long since she had a unibrow - not after Olga came home one day and forced her to sit and have every hair on her body tweezed and waxed. She shuddered at remembering that painful day three years ago. Her hair had grown longer, and it had been difficult to keep them in pigtails, so she lazily opted to leave it down on most days. Her legs were made of almost no fat, being that she competed on her school's basketball and track teams. She didn't really have the most curvaceous body in the world, but she had some, she supposed.

"Oh, criminy," she exasperated, throwing herself on her bed. She thought about how Arnold looked and couldn't help but blush at how attractive he had become.

Hearing a knock on her door, Helga mumbled a "come in," not moving her position.

"Helga, darling, Olga's on the phone, and she would like to speak to you," Miriam said, holding up the house phone.

"Tell her I don't want to talk to her," Helga groaned, but before she could oppose, the phone was already to her ear.

"Hello, Helga, my dear, sweet baby sister!" She heard Olga's overly optimistic voice.

"Hello, Olga," she answered flatly.

"How's your Thanksgiving, Baby Sister? Mine is absolutely swell! There's this little boy named Imani, and he-"

"Uhuh, yeah," Helga muttered as her sister drowned on and on about her adventures.

"-and they don't even have any books! Can you imagine? Anyway, tell me about your Thanksgiving, Helga!" Olga asked happily.

"Great, Olga, just amazing," Helga answered dismissively.

"Oh, come on, Baby Sister, tell me about what's going on! How's school?"

"Great."

"And work?"

"Amazing."

"How about your friends?"

"Happy."

"Well, what about that boy you had a crush on? What was his name? Armand? I heard he was coming back from San Lorenzo."

This caught Helga's interest. "How did you know about that?"

"It was on your friend Gerald's Facebook page and then Phoebe shared it on her feed," Olga answered, elated that she was finally getting a proper response from her sister.

Helga groaned. It had been years since she deleted her Facebook account during an anti-social media phase. Now, she was really regretting that decision.

"Well, how is he, Helga? Did your heart flutter? Any old feelings resurface? Tell me!" Olga asked excitedly.

"No, Olga, this is the real world remember? Those things don't happen in the real world," Helga lied, knowing full well that Olga had hit her inner conflict dead on.

"Oh, well, then, have you seen him yet?" Olga asked, trying to further the question.

"Yes," Helga groaned, not really wanting to talk about Arnold.

"How is he?"

"Fine."

"Well, I remember how you used to write your little poems about him. You even made shrines and-"

"Yes, Olga, and I'm sorry but I have to go. Miriam, Olga wants to talk to you!" Helga yelled for her mother.

"Oh, okay then, Helga. I'll talk to-" Miriam came in, and Helga tossed the phone to her before finishing listening to Olga's goodbye.

Closing the door, Miriam started to babble on about the turkey stuffing or whatever.

Helga sighed once more.

"Good God, Football Head," she thought, "you've been back one day and you've already spun my world upside down."

Arnold wasn't sure what he felt when he saw Helga on the dock. Heck, he wasn't even sure if it was Helga in the first place. The only way found out was by eavesdropping on her monologue about him.

But that only left him confused. It didn't make any sense. If she had been talking about him, thinking about him, then why did she act so aloof when he approached her? Why wasn't she as excited as he was when he saw her again?

Sighing, Arnold stared at his reflection. Hillwood itself hadn't changed much during the time he was gone. Still smogged, still the city. In the jungle, the sky was lit up by the infinite amount of stars in the sky. In Hillwood, the lights from all the buildings made the city glow in the dark. The people, however, were far from the children he had left years ago.

Gerald had become a strapping young man, a couple of inches taller than him. The boy had gotten into a hardcore workout phase that made him exercise before, after, and during school. To Arnold's surprise, Gerald had started dating Phoebe Heyerdahl the year they were supposed to be freshmen. Phoebe herself had changed, too. She was still very smart and put studies as her priority, but she had also become very pretty. Rhonda and everyone had all grown up. It was as if he was stuck in a time hole for years and then coming back to seeing all his friends as mini-adults.

And Helga. Oh, Helga. In Arnold's eyes, she had become drop-dead gorgeous. She had legs that seemed to go on forever, and such bright eyes. No longer was her unibrow existent, nor was her pink bow. She wore makeup and actually brushed her hair. Arnold couldn't help but miss it. It hadn't really mattered to him what she looked like because Helga was still Helga, but a part of him still longed to see her tomboyish appearance from when they were eleven - the way she looked when he first fell for her.

He couldn't help but flush as he remembered the feeling of her hand in his. Rubbing it, his hand still retained the feeling of how cold her hands were. They were small compared to his. He thought she might still like him, but he supposed five years is a long time; enough to get over someone. He wondered why he wasn't lucky enough to be blessed with being able to.

Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, he got up from the dock. His family was probably done setting up for their Fourth of July Thanksgiving. Dejectedly, he started to walk towards the boarding house. Passing through the city, he felt nostalgia wave through him as he remembered childhood adventures. Each store he passed reminded him of something he and his friends had done. The flower shop where he and Gerald worked at, PS 118, Mr. Simmon's house, Helga's dad's beeper store (which now sold phones in keeping with changing technologies).

He reached the brick house sullenly. When he opened the door, he was greeted with a wave of warm welcomes and hellos. He felt better.

His grandparents were in the living room. They were getting older, weaker, but they still had the same fire and love they had when he was younger. His grandpa was reading the paper and his grandmother was in the chair next to him yelling strange things while wearing a George Washington costume. Some of the boarders were in the kitchen, taking things up to the roof. He supposed his parents were still grilling the food somewhere.

"Hey, Arnold! Oh, wow, it is still very strange to see you so tall," Oskar said as he carried paper plates up the stairs.

"And it's strange seeing you actually do something," Arnold thought as he chuckled to the man.

A couple of months after he left, Suzie had gotten pregnant. Least to say, Oskar was very disinterested. That is, until Suzie had gotten sick nearing full-term while trying to work three jobs to prepare for the baby, nearly killing it and herself. Afterwards, Oskar had taken responsibility, realizing how easily his family could disappear. It wasn't just the Kokoshka's that changed. Mr. Hyuhn was now a grandfather to two little girls that were now running around the house. Mr. Potts had finally gotten married to a nice librarian, surprising given his personality.

"Hey, Short man," his grandpa greeted, "how was your walk?"

"Mr. Jefferson, I see you have returned from your voyage!" Gertie yelled out.

"Hi, Grandpa. Hi, Grandma. It was great. I really missed Hillwood." Arnold answered respectfully.

"Ain't really changed, Old Hillwood, now has it?" His grandpa said.

"Not really, Grandpa," he answered. "I'll be in my room if you guys need me, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Jefferson!"

Climbing up the stairs, he greeted more boarders as they went up and down the stairs. He entered his room and jumped on his bed, exhausted from the day.

Helga...

His phone vibrated again. He took it out of his pocket and saw that it was Gerald who had messaged him earlier and currently.

"Dude, wya? i just finished the gym. you wanna play some ball before dinner?" The first text read.

"Bruh. reply."

Arnold started to text. "Yeah sure. at the park?"

"Ye. see you in ten."

Arnold sat up on his bed and wiped his face. He changed into workout clothes, bid goodbye to his grandparents, and went to the park. Gerald was there, waiting with a basketball between his hands.

"Arnold, my man," Gerald said, motioning him to do their secret handshake.

Arnold grinned and pursued their tradition. "What's up?"

"Nothin' really. Same old, same old. How was seeing Helga?" Gerald asked, throwing the ball in the air.

"Not that well. And how did you know I saw her?" Arnold asked, catching it.

"You looked bummed as hell," Gerald answered, trying to steal the ball. "It was pretty obvious that you saw her again. Old Pataki really changed, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, she has..." Arnold trailed, blocking Gerald's advances. "Gerald, does she have a boyfriend?"

"Um, not that I know of," Gerald said, pausing to think. "Why? She say som'in?"

"Not really. It's just she's so... y'know, and I wouldn't be surprised if the reason why she didn't want to see me was because she was already seeing someone else," Arnold answered, pausing, too.

"Man, you gotta get over her," Gerald said, taking advantage and stealing the ball. "It's been five years. You need to get yourself a girl."

"I have, Gerald," Arnold replied, trying to take the ball back. "At least, I've tried before. It's just that Helga's the one, you know?"

"Arnold, you're sixteen years old. The last time you were in a relationship with her was when we were eleven. How are you so sure that she's the one?" Gerald asked, shooting, successfully making it in.

"I just know it, Gerald. Do you think that Phoebe's the one?" Arnold asked comparatively.

"Arnold, Phoebe and I have been together for three years. The longest relationship I've ever had aside from this is with my mother. If I don't marry this girl, I don't think I'm gonna marry anyone," Gerald answered.

Arnold couldn't help but smile at the sound of his best friend gushing over the one he loved. Gerald really matured. In a way, Arnold was jealous; he wished he could love someone like that.

"Don't worry, Arnold," Gerald said, throwing back the ball to him. "If it's meant to be, she'll come around."

"I hope so."

"My God, I hope so."

Author's Note:

CAN WE PLEASE JUST TALK ABOUT HOW THE JUNGLE MOVIE IS COMING OUT IN TWO WEEKS. OMG I'M FREAKING TF OUT SOMEONE SEND HELP BC IM DYING FROM EXCITEMENT. AND CRAIG SAID THAT THEY MIGHT EVEN RESTART THE SERIES; OR EVEN BETTER START "THE PATAKIS" ASKDGJOS.

On a serious note, I absolutely love Hey Arnold! This show was my shit when I was younger. I read more than I write, but I hope you stick around to find out what else I have in store for them.

Tell me: What do you think is gonna happen in The Jungle Movie? Leave your answers in the review section and we can bond!

Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!

-G