Hearts of Gold

40. Feeling

"You had a WHAT!?"

"Keep your voice down!" Arnold whispered harshly, eyes darting around the cafeteria to make sure no one heard him. "I don't want anyone else to know about this!"

Gerald slumped in his chair, wide-eyed, shaking his head. He simply couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Arnold? Getting one of those? "I always knew you were a bold kid, Arnold, but I didn't think you were that bold..."

"It's not like it was on purpose, Gerald," Arnold sighed. "What should I do? I don't know when it's going to happen again. What if someone sees? What if Helga sees?"

Gerald knew he had a point, and stroked his chin in thought. He'd already had the talk with his dad, which was pretty embarrassing as it is, but for all the talking and talking he had to suffer through, he couldn't think of a thing to say. What would he do in such a situation, he wondered? Would he have to worry about that soon as well? "I don't know, man. Maybe you just need a distraction," he said just as much for himself as for Arnold. Gerald then shifted in his seat, sitting up to start eating the grilled cheese sandwich on his tray. "How about Valentine's Day?" he asked with a mouthful.

"Valentine's Day?" Arnold had to admit, he hadn't been thinking of it very much. "I mean, I had some ideas for a date. It depends on the weather, I guess." Arnold recalled how windy it was over the last couple nights or so, how he could hear it whistling outside his room. "I want to give her something handmade, I think. I'm just not sure what, yet."

Gerald shrugged. "Well, Jamie-O told me girls love getting sweets on Valentine's Day. I bet Helga would especially dig it."

A grin slowly came over his face. "That could work..."

"Just don't get any help from Timberly."

Arnold rolled his eyes and laughed at the bittersweet memory. "You can say that again."

"Say what again?" Helga asked as she appeared at the table, sitting close to her beloved. Arnold gulped a little and smiled nervously as he waved goodbye to Gerald's distraction in his mind.

"Nothing important..." Arnold glanced over at Gerald, and the look in his eyes told him he needed to try harder. Quickly he decided to get Helga talking instead. "How did it go with Rhonda?"

Helga bit her lip. "Sooo, I may have outed Curly as the artist."

"You mean of Rhonda's Christmas present?" Gerald asked curiously. "I guess that makes sense. Kind of." Gerald scratched his head as he tried to figure out when Curly became such an artist.

"What did she say?" Arnold asked curiously, all the while keeping his legs closed together tightly, as if he had to pee and was desperate to hold it in.

"Well, I think Curly's dreaming if he expects Rhonda to jump into his arms. She hates how he's treated her over the years, the way he would always try to hug her and kiss her and so on. Can't say I blame her, honestly, but I really think underneath his creepy little act, he has real feelings," Helga said with a little sigh as she pulled a turkey sandwich out of her bag and took a huge bite out of it.

"You sure about that?" Gerald said with a raised brow. "That Curly sure is one freaky guy. Remember the fire alarm thing?"

"Or the ball monitor thing," Arnold added.

"And let's not forget Shark Week last year," Gerald said with a shiver. Arnold winced at the mere mention of it.

"Please, let's not talk about Shark Week..."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Okay, so he's a freaking lunatic. That doesn't mean that's all there is to him. A year ago you guys just thought of me as a straight-up bully, nothing else. Maaaybe you thought there was something else inside, Arnold, but still. You've gotten to know me more, and you know that was just...just... The point is, I think his feelings for Rhonda are real."

"Whose feelings? Curly?" Phoebe asked as she sat down with her tray. "I don't know, Helga..."

Helga smacked herself in the forehead. How many times would she have to explain this? "C'mon, Pheebs. You of all people should know that you can't judge a book by its cover. You were the only friend I had for most of my life; everyone else thought I was just evil and nasty and that was it. But you knew better."

Phoebe had to admit, she was right. Though it wasn't as if Helga was judged completely unfairly, given how she rarely ever allowed anyone else to see her more sensitive side, she did know that Helga wasn't always given a chance to be anything else either. Could Curly be putting on a similar front, she wondered? "I suppose you're right, Helga. Having given it some thought, it's not unreasonable to think that Curly may be in a similar predicament."

"Thank you!" Helga said as she spread her arms out wide. "At last, someone here believes me!"

"I believe you, Helga," Arnold said with his usual bright, optimistic smile.

Helga sighed with relief. "Thanks, my love," Helga replied by leaning over to give him a one-arm hug from the side. She thought she saw Arnold's eye twitch a little, and maybe even felt him squirm a bit, and she had to admit part of her kind of liked that she found a fun new way to torture him. But she was feeling merciful, so she pulled away to turn around and scan the cafeteria.

Curly sat alone, of course. Rhonda shared a table with some other girls, but she seemed to be keeping to herself for the most part. "Alright, listen. I'm gonna go talk to Curly, but I need someone to distract Rhonda so she doesn't notice me sitting at his table. Any volunteers?"

Phoebe didn't wait and stood up from her chair. "I can do it," she said with an affirmative nod.

"Hell yeah, let's do this!" Helga said with a fist pump as she stood up as well. "Okay, I'll stop by the vending machine and buy a soda while you go sit with Rhonda and start chatting. Once I know you have her attention, I'll just wander on over to Curly's table and take care of business. Got it?"

"Got it," Phoebe said before immediately walking off to Rhonda's table to ask for fashion tips, not that she really minded how she dressed of course. Meanwhile Helga made her way to the vending machines at the same time, and once she was a safe distance away, Arnold let out a sigh of relief.

"Were you holding your breath, man?" Gerald snickered.

"No, I uh... I wasn't." He was.

"You looked like you were holding in a fart or something," Gerald continued as he started to crack up. Arnold wasn't quite so amused.

"Sure, Gerald. Whatever you say. I was holding in a fart or something."

Curly picked at a bag of Chex Mix, separating the rye chips from everything else so he could throw them away. He wasn't really sure why they were included. Still, he rather liked the rest. He loved to take the mini breadsticks and make them walk along the table, even dance if he felt like it. Today he didn't feel like it, however.

He wasn't blind. He saw Helga leave her desk and chat with Rhonda in the back earlier that day. It seemed to him that Arnold, just like Nadine, was too good to help him, so he had his girlfriend do it. That Arnold and Helga got back together at all only left him extra bitter. He couldn't help feeling frustrated that those two were actually working out while he still was no closer to the girl of his dreams showing him anything other than a cold shoulder. How did that make any sense? Helga was always mean to Arnold, and he didn't seem to like her very much either. Curly scowled. At least he was a passionate love master, ready to give his all for the one woman who made his heart soar.

Sure enough, Helga came waltzing over to his table, and he let out a big, long sigh. "Greetings, dear Helga. How may I help you on this wonderful romantic Monday?" Curly said bitterly.

Helga did not expect such a rude welcome, and her mood began to sour. "Oh, you do not want to start off with that kind of attitude, bucko. I came over here to help your sorry butt, so don't make me regret it."

Curly huffed and crossed his arms. "Save it, Pataki. The ol' tough gal routine doesn't intimidate me. Besides, haven't you heard? There is nohelping me. Rhonda hates my stinking guts."

His "tough gal" comment only helped Helga realize that this was probably a front, just like she used to put on all the time, and her voice softened. "She doesn't hate you, Curly."

Curly rolled his eyes, and his head too. "Oh puh-lease, you expect me to believe that? I know the score! My heart is doomed, doomed! Forever shall my soul be but an empty vessel, sailing an ocean of misery in an endless night of despair! O gasp, I say, gasp! Look upon this melancholy wretch and behold the very personification of-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. Trust me, I get it. Been there. Also, kind of impressed with that. You should write poetry." Helga cracked open a can of ginger ale and took a sip before continuing, "ANYWAY, as a matter of fact I do expect you to believe that. She doesn't hate you, she's just angry about how weird you always get with her. And she probably doesn't appreciate all your psycho freak-outs either."

Curly winced. "Is she still mad about Shark Week?"

Helga's eyes narrowed. "Curly, everyone is still mad about Shark Week. And a little bit traumatized."

"The sharks are the real victims, Helga," Curly deadpanned.

Helga shuddered at the memory, and tried to steer the conversation back on track not just to accomplish what she set out to do, but to avoid thinking about those seven days of terror. "What I mean is, you have got to stop touching her without her permission. The hugging, the grabbing, the kissing, it's gotta stop."

"You're one to talk," Curly seethed through a wicked grin. "You and Arnold are all over each other. At least, you were. Arnold's looking a little stiff today. Wonder what's bugging him?"

Helga scowled at that and grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulling him closer to get right in his face. "Listen here, you bug-eyed little freak, I don't know who told you about that, but if you say one word to anyone, I will break off the temples of your glasses and shove them up your-"

"Relaaax, darling, relaaaaax. 'Twas just a joke!" Curly said with a giggle. "Also? It was just a lucky guess. But thanks for the confirmation."

Helga growled as she released him. "See, this shit right here? This is a big part of it too. You can't seriously expect Rhonda to even like you when you act like this all the time, like some mustache-twirling psycho jerk. She told me about the time you blackmailed her. Criminy, are you for real? How could you do that to her? The point is, you need to take her feelings a little more seriously. Aside from that stuff, all the touchy, kissy stuff you do to her, it's just nasty. It really does hurt her, Curly."

Curly threw his arms up in the air. "What else am I supposed to do!? It works for everyone else! You and Arnold do it all the time, Stinky and Lila do it, even Harold and Patty do it and I never would have pegged Harold for the kind of guy who would ever give a girl some lovin' like that."

"We're already in relationships, Curly! We earned each other's trust, and respect. Not to mention, we do still have boundaries. We're kids, we can't do everything. You can't just jump right into being all hands-on like that, it's insane! It's insane, and it will never, ever work."

Curly slouched in his seat and lowered his head. How could he have screwed things up so badly? "I've never done this before, Helga."

Helga sighed, shaking her head as she looked upon the pitiful boy. She saw so much of herself in him just now, and found herself rethinking just how much she's misjudged him over the years. "Curly, when Rhonda tells you to stop, you need to stop. She's not trying to hurt you, she's trying to defend herself."

"I thought she was playing hard to get," he said with a shrug.

"No, Curly. You have got to take her feelings seriously." Helga inched her chair a little closer to him now, leaning toward him to speak softly. "Listen, I understand what this is like. I've been in your shoes before, okay? I wasn't mean to Arnold because I disliked him. I've loved him as long as I can remember. I just didn't know how to show it. I was too scared, and I didn't know what I was doing either. If you really do have actual feelings for her, I really think you should tell her."

Curly simply nodded, taking his glasses off briefly to wipe his eyes with his arm. "Does she know about the art I gave her? That it was from me?"

Helga swallowed hard. "Yeah, I think she does now."

Curly bit his lip and nodded once more. "Okay," he said very quietly before getting up from his table and, leaving his lunch behind, walked out of the cafeteria. Helga turned in her chair to watch him go, knowing all too well the pain he was feeling.

Little did she know that Rhonda had also seen him walk out, and though she tried to play it off like just a momentary pause in her conversation with Phoebe, all she could think about now was Curly. He had done this to himself, she thought. The years of harassment were always going to catch up with him eventually. He should have known better. She shouldn't feel bad for him.

And yet she wondered, why did she?

Arnold shivered and rubbed his shoulders as he sat by the bus window, watching the falling snow swirl and fly around outside. For a moment he thought that might be what music looked like. He squinted to look closely at the snowflakes that landed against the glass, trying to see the points and the unique patterns of each one.

Helga sat beside him with a little sigh, shoving her bag under her seat. She slouched and crossed her arms before laying her head on his shoulder. "Hey..."

"Hey," Arnold said as he turned to look down at her. He could tell she was still feeling a little down, but her sadness only confirmed what he'd always known. She had such a big and caring heart, and he loved her for it. She glanced up at him with those big, beautiful blue eyes of hers, catching his staring. For a moment, her expression shifted to one of quiet concern.

"Are you okay?" Helga asked, hoping that she hadn't somehow triggered any of those new feelings he'd been dealing with. She didn't know what she'd do if such minimal, harmless contact could excite him like that.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Arnold said with a little half smile. Though he hesitated at first, he nonetheless put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her closer. "You still feeling a little low?"

Helga nodded and reached up to touch his gloved hand as the bus finally took off, now that it was full and ready to go. "I feel like I did a lame job. I mean, I might have gotten Rhonda to think about some things, but I don't know. And Curly? Everything I said only made him feel worse. I guess I'm just not cut out for the charity work like you are..."

"Hey, that's not true," Arnold said as he rubbed her shoulder. "Based on what you told me, it sounds like Rhonda might think a little more about looking at people a little deeper than what's on the outside. That's a good thing, right?"

Helga shrugged. "I guess..."

"And okay, so Curly is depressed. Neither of us want that, but... You did the right thing, trying to talk to him. And if, at the very least, he stops being so weird with Rhonda, then that's a good thing too, isn't it?"

There was a long pause before Helga spoke up again. "I just wish... I don't know, Arnold, I don't like seeing someone so lonely. I was hoping maybe I could convince them to be, like...at least friends, just so he wasn't so alone, but I failed. Now he feels completely abandoned, like he's going to be alone forever, and that..." Helga winced as if the thought physically pained her.

"Helga...?"

Helga took a deep breath and then sat up straight, closed her eyes, and shook her head and her arms to try and loosen up."I don't want to talk about it. Okay?"

Arnold nodded. "Alright, Helga. We don't have to talk about it." He sighed and turned to look back out the window for a moment, pulling his arm from around her shoulders so he could hold her hand instead. "I can't wait for all this snow to go away."

"Yeah. It's not as much fun as it used to be. Plus all the wind..."

"Yeah..." Arnold fidgeted a little as he watched the town go by outside. That's when a thought came to mind. "Hey, um... Are you going home, or like...?"

"Huh? Oh, crap. Uh...pffffff... I kind of want to go with you for a little while, if that's okay."

Arnold thought for a moment. It was a school night, so she wouldn't be able to stay too long. Still, with her current state of mind, he knew she needed affection right now. The problem was, he didn't know just how much snuggling she'd want to do, and being so hyper aware of every touch, well...

"I mean, if it's not okay, I can just go home..."

"No! No, it's okay with me. It's always okay with me. I just hope your parents don't mind, that's all." Arnold gave her hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance, all the while mentally preparing himself for later.

"I don't care what my parents say," she snarled. "I'll just get a ride home from Olga when she's done work today. Remind me to text her when we get to your house."

"Whatever you say, Helga." Arnold gulped as he began to dread the rest of the afternoon.

Miles and Stella walked into the boarding house with several bags of food, setting them down in the foyer so they could shake and brush the snow off of themselves. Stella made sure Miles didn't really mind getting the rest from the car, then took off her coat and her hat and her boots.

From there she brought some of the bags straight to the kitchen, and started putting things away. Vincent looked up from the table after taking a sip of hot cocoa and stood from his chair. "Hello, Stella. Do you need a hand with anything?"

"Hi, Vincent," Stella said with a little smile. She was clearly exhausted, but it didn't slow her down. "If you wouldn't mind, could you get the other bags, by the front door? Just the food stuff. Miles and I will figure out what to do with the rest in a few minutes."

"Alright, then," Vincent said as he left to get the other bags of food. He could hear Phil and Mr. Hyunh chattering about the latest weather report in the living room as he took a moment to check out what Miles and Stella brought home. He noticed a lot of canned food, bread, bottled water, etc; clearly food supplies for the upcoming storm. There were also a couple bags with what looked like flashlights, batteries, power strips, even candles.

Things he'd never had to rely on before.

"Hey, Vincent," Miles said as he came in with the remaining bags. Vincent stood up, the grocery bags in hand now, and nodded.

"Hello, Miles. I was just helping with these bags, if that's alright," Vincent said quietly, as he usually did.

"Of course," Miles responded with a pat on the shoulder before taking his coat and his boots off. "How are things going, anyway?" he asked as he and Vincent carried their bags to the kitchen.

"Fine, I suppose," Vincent gulped. He knew what Miles was getting at, but he hoped to avoid the conversation. They set the bags down on the counter and Vincent took his seat at the table once more, taking a sip of his hot cocoa with a little sigh of relief.

"Just fine?" Miles asked with a tilt of his head.

"Well..." Vincent took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "The job hunt hasn't been going as well as I'd like..." The truth, which he was too embarrassed to admit, was that he simply didn't have any faith in himself. Every ad he saw in the paper, every sign he saw in a window as he walked around town, he had convinced himself would be a mistake. He simply knew that no matter what he did, he would be a failure.

"Why's that?" Stella asked as she sat down with him to take a break, leaving Miles to worry about stocking the pantry.

"I just, I don't think I'm-..." Vincent stopped, hearing the front door open. Stella turned her head to listen, and after hearing boots and coats get put away, Arnold and Helga walked into the kitchen.

"Hi, Mom, Dad. Hi, Vincent," Arnold said with a little smile.

"Hey, guys," Helga added. She was surprised to see the bird guy sitting at the table downstairs. Usually he was always in his room when she came by.

"Hey, kids. Did your parents give you the okay to come over, Helga?" Stella asked with a raised brow.

"Uh, yeah. Yes, they did," she lied nervously. Arnold gave her a little nudge and she added, "My sister's picking me up on the way home from work."

"Alright then," Stella said with a shrug before looking back at Vincent. "You were saying?"

Vincent gulped. He honestly hoped the subject was dropped. "I'm just not sure I'm really qualified for anything that would make decent money," he said with a shrug. "It's not that I don't want to pay you guys, or have my own spending money, it's just that I... I don't do well with other people, I guess. Losing that job at the Avon theater just has me very discouraged..." He cringed as he recalled the night he was fired just a few weeks ago. He hadn't been working there for very long, but on top of his tendency to forget theater numbers, he accidentally started showing a rather terrifying ghost movie to an audience of children expecting a family-friendly animated film.

"We understand, Vincent. It's just... With the Kokoshkas gone, we can't really afford to cut so much slack now that you're a third of the boarders here," Miles said as he finished up with the pantry. "We know the economy isn't great, and it can be tough out there, but there's got to be something. I mean, we'd be willing to make a deal with you, make it a percentage of whatever your income is. That'd be fair, right babe?"

Stella nodded reluctantly, staring at Miles for a moment as she spoke. "Yes, I...suppose that would be okay. I've actually been thinking about getting a job as a professor down at Bennington College."

Meanwhile, Arnold and Helga quietly raided the fridge for drinks and snacks. They glanced at each other with a shrug as everyone else had this rather serious discussion around them. Helga stole a quick look at Vincent and recognized his discomfort, so she took Arnold's hand and guided him out of the kitchen, bringing him upstairs to his room. He only wished the living room was still free.

"I thought it was Wellington," Miles said quietly to himself. "That would be a long commute, honey. Are you sure you can handle that?"

Stella rolled her eyes. "Please. It's not that far away. Besides, I think I've had enough exploring and adventuring, and I didn't get a PhD in biochemistry just to sit on it. I figured I might as well teach."

"Why not teach at the high school? Or Arnold's school for that matter?" Miles asked as he leaned against the counter.

"Are you kidding? I'm probably overqualified for that. Bennington would be just right for me, I think. Unless you know of any pharmaceutical companies here in Hillwood that are looking for a medicinal chemist?" Stella added with a smirk.

"You? Work for big pharma? Well, I'll be dipped in chocolate and rolled in sprinkles."

Stella stuck her tongue out at him before looking back at Vincent. "There has to be something you can do. You're great with birds, right? How about a pet store?"

Vincent narrowed his eyes in thought at that. He hadn't really considered something like that. Taking care of his birds was just something he did because he enjoyed it. It hadn't occurred to him that he could exploit his unique talents for money like that. "I'm not sure... Those places, they never know how to treat their birds. Especially the more exotic ones."

"Then it sounds like they need your help," Miles said with a wink and a smile.

Vincent's eyes widened a little at the simple realization, and slowly a smile began to form on his face as well. "I suppose you...may be right, Miles. You may be right."

Miles pat him on the shoulder as he and Stella walked out to take care of the other supplies, while Vincent contemplated their advice. He stared into his hot cocoa and wondered, could this be the fresh start he'd been hoping for? It was one thing to have some new clothes, a nice warm bed, and a real roof to sleep under.

To earn a real living, putting the only skills he had to good use, was another thing entirely.

Helga leaned back and crossed one leg over the other as she read one of Arnold's She-Ninja funny books. Or graphic novels as he would insist. "I gotta say, she is pretty badass," Helga said with a little smirk, sitting beside Arnold on his comfy red couch. She hadn't realized just how violent the book was, the various ninja battle scenes featuring bright red blood spraying everywhere as shurikens flew into faces, as claws sunk into ribs, and as swords sent the heads of her enemies rolling to the ground. "And to think, I always thought ninjas were for dorks," Helga chuckled.

"Gee, thanks Helga," Arnold said with an eye roll. "I just like the story, and the action. And the artwork is really good, too."

"Uh-huh," Helga said quietly as she turned the page. One particularly large panel showed the titular character nearly in her entirety, standing over a fallen rival. She noticed just how perfectly rendered the character was, her blood-soaked wardrobe clinging impossibly tight against her form. She tilted her head as she glanced at the assassin's rather ample breasts, her slim waist, and the way her hips curved right into long, slender legs. Using the book to hide, Helga quickly tugged at her neckline and looked down at herself, then back at the book.

Was this the kind of thing Arnold was into, she wondered? She knew she couldn't live up to those standards now, of course, but would she ever be able to compete with this?

"Helga?"

Helga jumped and, as a result of her panicked spasm, she dropped the hardcover book right on her face. "Ow," she grumbled as she sat up, setting the book down on the little table in front of the couch and rubbing her forehead. "Next time I get lost in a book or something, just go ahead and punch me right in the temple, would ya? Criminy..."

"Sorry," Arnold said with a gulp. He bit his lip for a moment, his knee anxiously bouncing up and down, and then leaned over to kiss her forehead.

Immediately Helga's grimace faded, and a bashful half smile took its place. "Thanks. Sorry I yelled at you..."

Arnold breathed a sigh of relief, happy to get away with that. "It's okay."

"So," Helga said before pausing to take a sip of Yahoo brand cream soda, "What was that all about downstairs? Has Vincent been living here rent free?"

Arnold rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, I guess. My parents got him a job at the Avon, but he showed the new Paranormal Haunting to a bunch of little kids instead of Bunny Hop 2. By mistake, I mean. So he got fired."

"Man... That's gotta suck. The guy's life must be real miserable. No job, no place to go but here, and that's just because he's friends with the fam. He's lucky to have you guys," Helga said as she got up to turn on Arnold's stereo. At first she cranked the volume just a little too loud, but then she adjusted it to a more respectable level.

"Yeah, he's had a hard life. We're trying to help, it's just that he doesn't have much faith in himself." Arnold smiled at Helga as she sat back down beside him, ever thankful to see such light in her eyes. "That's why he has us. So he can see just how great he really is."

"Yeah," Helga sighed with a wistful smile. She inched a little closer and gently took Arnold's hand, and immediately he tensed up. She was sitting so close now that as she held his hand between them, the back of his hand was just barely touching her leg. He glanced down at their hands for a moment, taking note of the length of her dress, and then looked back up at her.

He didn't expect to see her looking so sad all of a sudden. "Helga? Are you okay...?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I'm still thinking about earlier today. Rhonda and Curly... I wish I could have helped them the way you guys are helping Vincent. Especially Curly. I just know that he's hurt, and he's lost, and he's so freaking lonely. I just..." Helga closed her eyes as she trailed off.

"You did what you could, Helga. If I had tried to help them, it probably would have turned out the same way. Besides, maybe they're just...not meant to be together like we are."

Helga furrowed her brow at that. No, that didn't feel right at all. The romantic in her couldn't help it. "I don't know, Arnold. What if they are? What if they are, and I blew it? I mean... I know this sounds crazy but I actually see a lot of myself in there. In Curly I mean. That loneliness, and that passion, it's no wonder he's insane."

"You have to have hope, Helga. We don't really know how all this will work out," he said with a reassuring squeeze. This prompted Helga to open her eyes and look directly at him now.

"That's just it, Arnold. I think Curly lost all hope today. It was like looking at a freaking mirror..." Helga reached over to stroke his cheek with the other hand as she leaned a little closer to him now, staring deeply into those bright, beautiful green eyes of his. With that, his heart beat a little faster. "No matter what happened with you and me, I always had hope, deep down. If I ever lost that... If I ever felt like we weren't meant to be, and that was it... Arnold, I don't know what I would do... I'd...I..."

Suddenly Helga lunged at him, shoving him down to his back and lying on top of him. She kissed him as deeply as she knew how, even making soft moaning sounds as she ran her fingers through his hair. Arnold stared out in horror, holding his arms in the air like he expected the police to walk in at any moment.

As Helga's kiss didn't break, however, he started to go limp, finding that he simply couldn't not enjoy it while it lasted. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, without hugging her any closer, and did his best to kiss her back.

Then he felt her tongue against his lips, and in that moment, Arnold was sure he knew what it must feel like to be struck by lightning.

Quickly he turned his head away, and his arms went up once more, and he semi-yelled, "Getoffpleasepleasegetoffgetoffgetoffgetoffpleasegetoffpleeeeeasegetoff!"

That jumbled mess of a request was enough to shock Helga back to reality, and she practically jumped off of him, still breathless from kissing him so much.

Arnold jumped up from the couch and started toward the door, but Helga called out, "Arnold wait!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, not turning around. His heart sank as he looked past the half-open door to the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, feeling guilty as he was reminded why he had to adopt the open door policy in the first place.

"Arnold," Helga said in a soft, soothing voice. "Arnold, I'm sorry..."

Arnold gulped and glanced down, then threw his head back and sighed.

"Arnold...?"

"I can't, Helga... I.. I can't, I'm not supposed to...to..."

"It's okay, Arnold. I know..."

Arnold closed his eyes tightly as if he'd just stared at the sun too long. "You know...?"

"Yes, I know about your...situation..."

"Oh god, don't call it a situation," Arnold groaned.

"Well darn it, you know what I mean. Arnold, it's okay..."

"...You have no idea how embarrassing this is..."

"Really, Arnold, it's alright. We don't have to, like...make out or whatever, just come sit with me, and it'll be alright. I promise."

Arnold's shoulders slumped, and his head hung low, and he walked backwards all the way back to the couch, immediately curling up into a ball as he sat back down. He hugged his knees close and hid his face in them while Helga got up and grabbed an extra blanket from his closet.

She sat close to him once more, and Arnold reluctantly put his legs down long enough for her to toss the blanket over both their laps before resuming the position. Slowly she wrapped her arms around him and held him close, rubbing his shoulders as she closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Arnold. I just... I don't know, I..."

"It's okay, Helga..." He took in a long, deep breath and let it out as slowly as he could. "How did you know about...you know?"

Helga shrugged. "I figured it out last night. I was wondering why you took that cold shower." She tilted her head a little. "Is that why you were acting so weird at the movies, too?"

Arnold remained silent, keeping his eyes closed as his face turned a shade redder than it already was.

"Oh, Arnold, " Helga sighed. She held him there for a couple minutes until the tension started to leave him. She kissed his temple before saying, "Listen, my love... I know it's, like...weird as hell, okay? We're both growing up, and it's crazy. Not just for you, either. It's crazy for me too. So... We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I don't want you to feel like you're alone, or like you have to hide things from me. I promise I won't freak out, or tease you, or anything like that. Okay?"

Arnold finally opened his eyes and nodded. "Okay..."

"Promise you'll do the same for me?"

Arnold swallowed hard and turned to look into those angelic pools of blue he loved so much. "I promise."

Helga nodded. "Good. And one more thing... Are you okay with, like... Do you mind taking things a little slow?"

For reasons he couldn't quite understand, a gentle smirk grew on Arnold's face. "What are you talking about? You jumped me, remember?"

Helga rolled her eyes and chuckled at his little remark. "I know, I know... But seriously, I'm kind of losing my mind a little over here, wondering if you're..."

"If I'm what?"

"If you're...into me. Or not."

Arnold nodded slowly and took a moment to think about his answer. Was he ready to admit, out loud, that he'd been having such feelings? It wasn't like Helga didn't already know, given the evidence they'd just discussed, but it was still a big deal. And so, he decided he had to be honest. "I, um... Of... Of course I am, Helga. If you mean what I think you mean. Not like I can hide it now, anyway..."

Helga's smile grew until it was ear to ear, and she blushed as well. "Thank you..." She then cleared her throat and tried to play it off cool, though the redness of her face gave her away. "So, uh, yeah... Take it slow?"

Arnold nodded. "Sure thing."

Helga let out a sigh of relief. "Good... And hey..."

"Hm?"

Helga leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Arnold..."

Arnold smiled, now finally feeling totally relaxed, and he leaned over to kiss her cheek in return. "I love you too, Helga."

They sat snuggled up together under the blanked for a few more minutes before going back downstairs to see if the living room was still occupied. With Arnold's grandpa and Mr. Hyunh having found other things to do, Arnold and Helga flipped through the channels until they found one playing a marathon of old classic cartoon shorts, and they laughed away the rest of the afternoon until Olga arrived to take Helga home.

Dinner came and went for both of them, and that night as they lay in bed, neither of them could stop thinking of that one intense moment of bliss they shared on the couch. While they both enjoyed the memory, one thought kept nagging at them even as they drifted off to sleep:

What if they hadn't stopped so quickly?

A/N: First of all, thank you all so much for the kind words. I'm really grateful that you care like that. Second of all, I hope the wait wasn't too long! this was a fun one to write. What's next, you may ask? Valentine's Day is coming up, and then...THE STORM. I've been planning it for ages, and I'm pretty fired up to finally get to it. Hehehe...