Lovie: So...I've been MIA for quite some time now. I know this. Consider all works previous to this discontinued until further notice. If you are really curious as to why, message me. I don't want to waste your time here. Anyway...This is something I have been working on for YEARS. And I only have about five chapters. I no longer get struck by the plot bunnies, but when they do, I can usually chug out three to five pages per session. So, I'm warning you readers now: do not expect regular updates following chapter five.
I will tell you that I am very proud of this work. I have enjoyed my time with this...and because I have read these parts so many times I feel they are ready for the public's eye. My summary, if it caught your attention enough to bring you here, is indeed a quote that I have used in this story. I will warn you now that I do not know where this tale is leading. I go where it takes me, so I am often as surprised as you are with what happens. And that is partially why I have fallen in love with it. I will mention Arnold planning a trip to San Lorenzo...will I follow him there? I have no idea. This may find a perfect ending beforehand...or it may never even reach that point. I don't know yet. So, sit down and buckle up, because very little is off limits here.

She couldn't believe it. They had just left her to live on the streets, no longer caring what happened to their youngest daughter. Miriam had been placed into a rehab of sorts to help her deal with her alcoholism while Big Bob Pataki had just packed up and left for California-the promise of young girls and more money making his choice for him. And so, 17 year old Helga G. Pataki was left on her own in an empty house that suddenly seemed to be colder and lonelier than ever before. What was she going to do? She couldn't pay for all the bills on her own-her paycheck barely covered her car insurance, gas and her cell phone bill, let alone the electric and water bills. A mortgage, yeah right. And food, forget it!

However, a Pataki never asked for help. That one part of her identity had been ingrained in her small body at a young age. It wasn't the Pataki way. But she knew that she was about to get in way over her head, much to her chagrin. And she didn't care. Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach, anger directed not at her mother, but at her father. The man who had conveniently forgotten about his second daughter who still lived at home, who needed money for college, who was now trying to figure out how she was going to survive her final year of high school without any assistance whatsoever.

Helga couldn't be mad at her mother. Her mother, who had checked herself into a program after realizing that she was going to lose everything; Her mother, who had seen the warning signs of a soon-to-bolt husband. Her mother, who was trying so hard to get sober so she could hold down a job to pay for the home that she had raised two little girls in and pay for their schooling. But, the blond girl knew that her mother wouldn't be able to raise the money in time and so, with a garbage bag in hand, Helga began to clean the house and resigned herself to an empty life in Hillwood, New York. Maybe, in a few years, she would be able to attend the community college and finally become the journalist/poet she so desperately wanted to be.

Helga managed to keep everyone in the dark about her home life for several months-six and a half to be exact. It was six months longer than she had expected. By picking up a second and, eventually a third job Helga managed to finally pay the bills and Miriam's rehab. However, this left her no time to study. She dropped all of her extracurricular activities and was often practically falling asleep in every one of her classes. Phoebe became worried about her friends well being, which Helga waved off with a grin and a cup of coffee at lunch everyday. Weekends were spent working two eight hour shifts at two different places, one a restaurant and the other was the local convenience store at the end of her block. Her friends were discouraged from stopping by her home with wild stories about both parents and herself being out doing family activities or work. And she told stories to get herself out of going places on the weekends, making something up about visiting relatives or going out of town.

However, ever so slowly, Helga was becoming more and more run down. She didn't sleep as much as she should have and ate even less. Clothes that had fit her body well were now becoming slightly baggy and dark circles had become permanent fixtures beneath her eyes only to be covered up by some heavy duty consealer. And this weight loss was not good for a 5' 8" girl who had already only weighed barely 130 pounds. In those six months, her weight plummeted to just barely over 100 and she was constantly exhausted.

And it was a combination of all of these factors that caused everyone to finally figure out what was really going on in the Pataki house on one cool Wednesday afternoon in early April.

"Helga, are you quite sure that you are not hungry?" Phoebe asked her best friend for the third time that lunch period. Helga, half asleep, only nodded. This month had been the worst so far-her electric bill had gone up and she had barely been able to cover it. Hence the lack of food the blond girl was consuming. That winter, Helga had completely closed off the upper portion of her home and had only heated the living room, where she had slept, and the kitchen. The thermostat had never gone above 64 degrees all winter. But the damn company had increased her bill anyway. She knew that her friend was worried for her-all the kids she had grown up with were worried to some extent. Her solid B average slipped drastically to low Cs and Ds. Nearly everyone knew that she was not planning on going to college next fall, much to their surprise. She had been accepted to a prestigious school known for their writing program and had been ecstatic for several months but then suddenly told people that she was not going.

Phoebe watched as Helga's eyelids slowly covered her now dull blue eyes, eyes that used to be bright and filled with some enthusiasm, sarcasm, and life. She looked over at her boyfriend, Gerald, worry etched into her delicate features. The small Japanese teenager had spent hours and hours agonizing over what was different with her friend, crying to Gerald about the things that had changed her best friend from a vivacious youth so full of dreams to this half dead work-a-holic that she could do nothing for. The African American young man made his way to Phoebe's table and sat next to her, holding the small young woman close as he too scrutinized the other girl. She was way too thin, skin almost an ashen color. Her hair drooped and had no life to it and her eyes...he suppressed a shudder. Her eyes looked dead and empty the majority of the time and it creeped him out.

Another young man wove his way to the mostly empty table, sitting a few seats away from Helga, careful to keep an eye on her at all times. He couldn't imagine what had caused the huge change in the girl he had grown up with. Sure, she didn't tease him half as often as she used to once they hit high school and she discovered the volleyball and the baseball teams, but every now and then, when they had run into each other in the hallway, Helga would grin at him, occasionally throw a wink in his direction and always, always yell out "Hey Football Head!"

However, the last time she had done anything like that had been months and months ago. Arnold's green eyes watched her as she slowly seemed to shrivel and shrink before his very eyes. And no matter what he did, there was nothing he could do or say to make her act like her old self. She would walk down the hallways with her head down or a dazed look in her empty eyes and would disappear the moment school let out. Helga never answered her door at her home-he knew because he had tried to catch her there all the time. In fact, there was rarely ever a car there, unless it was hers late at night.

Arnold sighed, chewing his food as he watched the walking enigma next to him. Gerald, on the other hand, was persuading Phoebe to eat a little more while Helga slept lightly through the entire period. None of the three had the heart to wake the poor girl, not when she was so obviously exhausted for reasons unknown to them. After throwing his trash away, Arnold returned to the table and scooted one seat over, so that he sat directly next to the sleeping girl. Scrutinizing her calm features, he sighed softly. Helga had always fascinated him, ever since she started to single him out and tease him mercilessly for reasons unknown to anybody but herself and possibly Phoebe. The small genius had briefly mentioned something about their childhood years months ago, when Helga first went into her funk but, once she realized what had slipped, she had turned bright red and refused to say it again. She had breathed a sigh of relief when Arnold genuinely had no idea what she had said.

The ringing of the bell summoned the students to their next class, the majority grumbling the entire time. Phoebe reached across the table and gently grasped Helga's bony wrist. Exhausted, clouded blue eyes snapped open at the contact, and the blond girl snatched her arm away as if burned. She didn't like it when people noticed how thin shed gotten. It wasn't healthy, she knew, but it was the only way that she could really survive by herself with so many bills and such. If, you know, this was surviving.

Looking around, she noticed the many departing students and gathered her things swiftly and standing far too fast. Blood rushed from her head and she felt herself sway. Blinking and swallowing hard, Helga willed the darkness away from the edges of her sight without success. The darkness actually closed in and she felt the ground tilt. Voices called out to her but she couldn't respond. Warm, strong arms wrapped around something that felt like it was supposed to be her, gently holding her tightly as she finally floated away.

"Helga?"

A voice, soft and far away, was flitting its way across her awareness. That name was familiar, as was the familiar voice, but she had no idea if it was a male or female voice, friend or otherwise. She was sure that the name was hers, but was unable to comprehend the idea of responding in any way shape or form. The underweight blond had no idea where she was and had no idea what had happened to put her in this position...whatever this position was.

"Helga, can you hear me?"

Soft pressure was applied to her one hand. Which hand though, she couldn't even begin to hazard a guess. And the voice? Definitely masculine. And so achingly familiar, she wanted to kick herself for not being able to think of who this was talking to her. Helga felt her brows furrow in thought and heard several sighs around her. She tried to open one eye and found it surprisingly difficult. Hadn't she only been lightly napping earlier? What was going on?

"Open your eyes Helga. C'mon, lets see those baby blues."

She now wanted to scream at the gentle voice talking to her, to yell and punch and let them know that she was trying but it was hard and she was so exhausted. Her hand was released and the foreign hand cupped her cheek, gently patting in order to bring her around. Whoever was talking to her was apparently trying to coax her into complying with them. A pathetic groan escaped from somebody. It took several moments for her to realize that it came from her. Well, now she wanted to die. To sound like a dying...something, was pretty embarrassing. To do it in front of whoever belonged to this sexy voice was down right mortifying.
And slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly, she managed to open her eyes halfway. Everything was blurry and unfamiliar and she felt her breathing speed up drastically.

"There ya go," the male voice said soothingly, his hand leaving her cheek to gently brush some hair from her face. Blinking furiously, Helga tried to clear her vision enough to see who was talking to her. Squinting, she made out an oddly shaped head. A football head with blond hair and vibrant green eyes.

A small smile slid onto her face as her eyes slid shut once more, his name on her lips.

"Hey Arnold..." and she was gone again.

"Helga? Come on back Helga...open your eyes!" he said quickly, the hand near her face patting her cheek gently as he crouched over her limp form. Glancing up, he caught Gerald's gaze, eyes worried and fearful. "How much longer until they get here?"

"I...I don't know man. Any time now. Hows she doing?" the other guy asked, arms wrapped securely around his lover, who was shaking with silent sobs into his chest. A crowd had gathered around, watching the whole scene unfold, curious about what had caused this and what was going to happen now.

Arnold mainly ignored the crowd, attention focused on the young woman who had fainted into his arms. He shrugged in response to Gerald's question.

"She's breathing and woke up for a few seconds but she's back out again," he replied, green eyes once again focused upon the blank and relaxed face. The blond man gently gripped her hand once again; unable to get over how light the tall teen had been in his arm. Way too light to be healthy. Even Lila, who was a good four inches shorter than the blond girl on the floor, weighed more than what Helga must weigh now.

"Helga...what happened to you?"
Sirens were heard then, swiftly growing louder as they approached the school. Several members of the group ran off to greet the paramedics, who arrived on the scene a short time later, gurney and medical supplies in tow.

"What happened here?" One asked as he began his assessment of Helga. Arnold automatically launched into an explanation of what had occurred with his eyes never leaving her face as he gave them nearly all the information they requested.

"How can we reach her parents?"

This question caused the young man to freeze. That was what was missing from her house late at night. Arnold could have kicked himself.

"I...I don't know. We haven't heard anything from them in a little while. I can give you their names though...Bob, err, Robert and Miriam Pataki," the green eyed teen said softly. The paramedics nodded before loading Helga Pataki onto the stretcher and wheeling her down the hallway to the waiting ambulance. Arnold stayed with her every step of the way, his large hand gripping her small one tightly. As far as he was concerned, it was her lifeline back to this world. But it was broken when the unconscious girl was loaded into the back of the emergency transport vehicle and Arnold was denied access with the excuse that they needed the room to work.

Numb and lost, Arnold could only watch them drive away with the only girl who had ever really confused him in such an infuriating way that he sometimes couldn't see straight. And although he had no idea what was going on or why, he sure as hell was going to find out.