You Found Me - Chapter 1 (A HA! Fanfic)

Her blond pigtails slapped against the floor as she bowed to her false god, folded up on her bare legs with long, thin arms stretched in front of her. Plump, wide lips expressed huge tooth baring smile, cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

“Oh Arnold, my love god. How I fall time and time again by the shine beneath those emerald spheres, magnets for my souls deepest desires. That forever tousled cornflower hair lain upon a football head, sculpted by the greatest of artists. Your ear to ear smile makes my heart pound with bittersweet longing. My hands desire to brush across your soft skin, my lips to grace that princely grin you plaster across your face even in the hardest of times. But it is for not, as your love cannot be found. I am forever a stranded soul, hidden away inside this husk of a body, just waiting for you, my sweet, to return these feelings which I must hide away. Arnold, oh Arnold! Why must it be this way? Why must I not shower you with love, but instead with pain and anger? Why, I ask? Why?”

And with that she rolled onto her side and curled up, pressing her old locket to her chest, as if trying to fuse the face of her beloved into her, and finally become one with each other. She let out a long and heavy sigh, fiddling with the chain of her locket between her surprisingly slender and feminine fingers.

“OLGA!” Her father, Bob, thunderously shouted through the old house. “Come down for dinner and eat this meal your sister worked so hard to make for you!” He sighed deeply and grumbled, walking back to the table, “Ungrateful little girl.”

“Coming, Bob!” Helga climbed up to her feet, brushing the dust off her loose black hoodie and hot pink skinny jeans. “Criminy, can't a girl get a little quiet time around here?” She mumbled to herself. Sliding the locket back around her neck and under her tank top, she stepped out of the closet, closing the door and peeked around her room. It was pretty messy after her little outburst earlier when she learned that, on top of her troubled love life, Olga would be staying over for the next week. It had been just another long day in the life of Helga G. Pataki.

As she walked down the stairs, Helga was greeted by the high pitched call of the ever elusive siren. “Little sister! Oh, I'm so glad to see you! You've been crammed up in your room like a caged dog all day, I was worried you'd never come to see me!” Olga scooped Helga up into her arms and lifted her off the ground, showering her with kisses and giggles.

“That's great Olga, but I can't... freaking... breathe! Let go of me already!” She struggled to slip out of her sisters surprisingly strong grip, which contrasted with her small and feminine figure.

“Oh, I'm so sorry dearest little sister!” Carefully letting the young blonde girl stand on her own two feet before straightening out her frilly blue and white dress, Olga smiled brightly. “Well, sit down. I've put together this meal that I learned how to make back in Africa, when I was teaching the poor little boys and girls there how to...”
Helga immediately tuned out the pointless babbling of her annoying sister, grumpily pulling out a chair at the table and glancing at her parents. Their pride was spilling out from their faces and practically flooding the room in a dense fog. It felt toxic.

“...And then I decided, maybe it's about time I moved back to Hillwood!” Olga's chipper voice brought Helga back to attention. “I already paid the fee on an apartment pretty nearby, so I can spent tons of time with my beautiful little sister, and of course my mummy and daddy!”

“You're moving back!?” Helga was shocked. “Why? Don't you need to help the poor kids anymore?”

“Little sister, weren't you listening? I said that after all my hard work, they were inspired to pull together a full team to teach them their classes! Someone even donated a grand piano.”

“And we're both very proud of you Olga.” Bob's gruff voice interjected, and Miriam nodded in agreement.

“I couldn't have done it without you guys.”

There was a loud bang as Helga stood up and slammed her hands to the table in a panic. “B-but Olga, surely someone's gotta need you around! Like starving orphans or something, you could build houses for them or something, some other charitable junk.”

Seemingly oblivious to Helga's distress, Olga shook her head smiling. “Oh baby sister, I'm so glad you're concerned about the poor kids out there, but I have to settle down sometime and start a family.”

Helga gawked for a moment at her older sister, disgusted by her need to just.. settle down. Meeting the right guy comes first, who cares about children if you don't have love? She wasn't left much time to her thoughts.

“Sit down, little lady! You should be happy for your sister, she's an amazing woman. You should be more like her.” Bob sighed, “Just eat your meal.”

She glared at her father momentarily, sitting down as if the chair could burn her. Scowling, she picked at her meal with her fork, shoving it around on her plate. Making a face, she hesitantly brought a bite to her mouth. It tasted alright... It actually tasted sort of good, maybe it'd be her new favorite- “AUGH! HOT” She spit the food all over the table before jumping up and running to the kitchen, yanking a carton of milk from the fridge and desperately chugging it.

“Helga, that is no way to behave! Don't you dare disrespect your sisters cooking like that! Do you have any idea how hard she worked to organize this dinner for you?” Anger radiated from Bob, his square jaw tightened and fists balled up.

'Of course he remembers my name when I do something that might disgrace his precious little angel.' Shooting daggers with her eyes back at him, Helga wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stepped towards the front door. “Maybe I don't CARE how hard she made this meal. She knows I can't handle food that freaking spicy! What it is, pureed ghost peppers? I'm going out.” She stomped outside and slammed the door, ignoring her fathers yelling and sisters bawling.

It was cold. Really, really cold. She folded her arms against herself and shivered, walking aimlessly down the street. 'Whatever,' she thought to herself, a scowl twisting her face, 'it's not my fault my sister doesn't listen to me. I didn't choose to live here.' She took a shaky breathe, and when she exhaled there was a puff of steam. Snow was gently falling, resting on her head and thinly covered arms. 'Maybe I should have grabbed a coat or something.' She gently bit down on her lip, looking up to see that she had ventured unintentionally to the boarding house. A sad sigh escaped her tight lips. “Arnold, my love. If only I could be graced with your family. To be by your side is more than I could ever dream for.” Swooning, she felt her locket through her top. A couple tears slipped from her eyes in frustration and loneliness. “Maybe then a smile would grace my face instead of a scowl. I could compliment instead of insult, love instead of hate.” Glancing down bitterly, she kicked a little mound of dirty snow packed at the edge of the curb. Her tone turned sharp. “Who am I kidding. Once a Pataki, always a Pataki. I'd never be able to be anything like you. You're so kind and gentle, while I parade around waving an iron fist. Two actually.” She leaned against the wall of the building directly across from sunset arms, punching the air to further show her point before resuming in her soft, gentle voice. “There's no way I could ever be as great as thee, with your golden hair and knowing gaze. I could never be so great. Never so deserving.” She slid down the wall and sat in the damp, slushy snow, pulling out her locket and gazing at his half-lidded eyes. Hugging her knees to her chest with her free arm, she gently brushed against the cheek of the football headed boy in the photo with her thumb. “I love you Arnold.”

A door opened and dozens of animals ran out. “Okay Grandpa, I get it. Wheat bread not white.” Arnold shouted as he stepped outside.

Panic rushed through the pigtailed girl as she jumped to her feet, stuffing the scratched-up gold, heart shaped locket back under her clothes. She stood in the shadow motionless then, save for her shivering, and hoped she wouldn't be seen. It was a long shot, but if she ran it'd be obvious she was there.

“...Helga?” the boy strained his eyes to look across the street. He'd recognize that bow anywhere. “Helga, what are you doing out here, and wearing only that? You'll freeze to death!” Worry etched across his face, he jogged carefully across the empty road, avoiding any ice. He slipped off his fluffy, navy blue coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, noticing her red cheeks and shaking body. Truthfully, her cheeks were red not from the cold, but from a mix of embarrassment and puffiness from the tears she never noticed were falling.

“Arnold! I was just.. Uh.. Taking a walk! Criminy, can't a girl go for a walk these days without being stalked by your majesty?” Putting heavy emphasis on the last two words, she tried to force an angry scowl back onto her face, but her face softened as she silently swooned over his concern over her.

“You weren't even walking Helga. You were just standing there, and you're all wet.” His voice was plain and dry, but he still wore a concerned frown. He grabbed her arm. “Come on, I'll have grandma make you some cocoa. You can't stand out here all wet in the snow.”

She allowed herself to be dragged across the street, distracted by his touch. She shook her head violently just before they reached the door and yanked her arm from his grip. “Who said you could touch me, football head?”

“Don't be difficult Helga, just come inside. For once, just let me help you without chewing my head off.” He sighed in frustration and stood by the door. “Please?”

Of course, she wasn't prepared for the rush of emotion she felt when she realized how serious he was about helping her warm up. She never was. Besides, he seemed genuinely worried, and she was just being a jerk. A child. 'No wonder he doesn't love me. Who would love a selfish little kid?' she thought sadly. “O-ok Arnold.”

To his surprise, she slowly walked up the steps and into the door as he opened it, moving in a robotic fashion as she forced her feet forward.

“You're back already boy? Oh wait, you're not Shortman, you're the feisty girl with one eyebrow!” Phil's old and worn voice was somehow filled with energy and excitement. “What're you doing here?

An old woman peeked over the mans shoulder. “Oh, Eleanor! It's so nice to see you! Come on in, I've just made a truckload of provisions, enough to last the upcoming blizzard!”

“Yeah, and you used up all the bread in the process! Nobody needs that many sandwiches in a lifetime, Pookie!”

Arnold interrupted the lighthearted bickering with a hurried string of words. “Helga's just coming in to dry off, she was taking a walk and it started snowing.” He knew it wasn't the truth, but he'd seen her randomly around his home often enough to know it had to be a good reason, at least to her. He tugged on the sleeve of her hoodie, signaling her to follow him. She hesitantly complied, wiping her torn up shoes on the edge of the door and closing it behind her. They trotted up to his room, closing the door behind them.

“What were you thinking Helga?” His words seemed angry, but his tone was soft and still laced with mild distress as he watched her pull his coat off her shoulders and gently set it on his bed.

Helga sighed quietly, feeling suddenly exhausted. “Arnold, look. I don't want to get in your way. I don't want to ruin today for you and make you feel like crap for taking on my problems. All you said was that you were going to get me warmed up, so you don't need to... do this.” She fixated herself on the hem of her hoodie as if it was the most impressive thing she'd ever seen.

Arnold furrowed his eyebrows. 'Why is she acting this way?' Indeed, Helga was acting strange, even for her. It seemed as if the fire that was always lit behind her blue eyes was beginning to burn out. “Helga, you know I think of you as a friend. You can tell me anything. I can take it, really.”

“Exactly Arnold,” Helga's voice broke slightly, “You think of me as a friend.” She had intended to speak quietly enough that Arnold would be unable to hear her, but failed.

“I don't understand Helga. I thought we had a great friendship.”

“Arnold... Just.. Please don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Don't do this.” She looked up at him with tired eyes. “I'm not your charity case, I'm not a puzzle to be solved, I'm just me, and my problems are my own. Please just let it slide Arnold.” She averted her eyes to anywhere else her gaze could fall, which happened to be on the little pink book sitting on Arnold's desk. Her eyes widening, she let a surprised gasp slip out.

Arnold looked at her quizzically before following her gaze. “You remember it, Helga?” He never did figure out who that mysterious girl was who'd written about him, but he loved the poems. Sure, they were a little unnerving, but they flattered him and gave him confidence he couldn't find anywhere else. What could possibly be more of a compliment than someone dedicating a whole book to him, after all?

“Ah.. Um, yeah. Yeah I do. Did you uh.. Did you ever figure out who wrote it?” She felt a little nervous, not expecting him to still have that old piece of junk.

Sighing sadly, Arnold walked over to the book and flipped through the pages, feeling the air flutter against his face. “No, I didn't.” His eyes moved back up to Helga, suddenly remembering that her clothes were practically soaked from all the melted snow on her. He'd somehow forgotten until just now. “Helga, you really should get out of those clothes. You're going to get sick.”

Helga rolled her eyes, but was secretly relieved from the subject change. “I'm not about to parade around your room in my underwear, hair boy.” She ended the sentence with a sharp, barking tone.

Arnold flinched at the nickname and felt a light blush creep across his cheeks at the image she described. He shook his head free of the thoughts. “O-of course not.” He stepped towards his closet and started rifling through his clothes, looking for something warm that might fit her. “You can borrow some of mine, and I'll throw yours in the dryer. When they're nice and toasty you can borrow my coat and go home.” He smiled as he found what he was looking for, a long sleeved plaid shirt he used to wear as a kid. It was too small for him now, but it used to be much too long, and Helga was a thin girl. Snagging a pair of black sweat pants that were folded up on a shelf above his shirts, he turned to Helga and presented the clothes to her in extended arms.

She chuckled and grabbed them from his hands, leaving the room and heading to the bathroom to change. She couldn't help but sniff his old shirt as she walked, of course after checking the halls for witnesses, and sighed dreamily.

It wasn't until then that Arnold discovered that his clothes were rather damp as well. He sighed heavily, returning to his closet and grabbing a large, baggy white t-shirt and his own pair of gray sweats. He was almost done changing, he had his sweat pants on but hadn't put his shirt on yet as he dried his hair with a loose towel he had left in his room after his last shower, when he heard footsteps coming up to the door and the low hum of Helga talking through the door, not lough enough for him to distinguish words.

“...Anyway, I didn't know where the dryer was, so I-” Helga dropped her wet clothes to the floor as she gawked at her beloveds bare chest, a couple stray droplets of water that had fallen off his wet hair were rolling down his smooth skin. She closed her mouth and they made eye contact, her face turning red as his flushed a light pink. “Er, s-sorry Arnold, I didn't know you were changing up here... I mean, if you had told me I would've knocked or something, but..”

Arnold laughed awkwardly and rushed to pull his shirt on, much to Helga's disappointment, the damp towel forgotten on the ground. “No, no, it's my fault, I should have yelled at you not to come in, I heard you coming, but I guess my thoughts didn't really move fast enough.” His eyes fell to the wet bundle on the floor, and he quickly reached down and grabbed them, excusing himself from the room and rushing away from the awkward moment at hand.

'I saw Arnold shirtless!' Arnold had earned a toned figure from the chores he was assigned, things like stacking wood and fixing holes that mysteriously showed up on the walls in Ernie's room. Things his grandparents were too frail to do anymore. Helga stepped the rest of the way into Arnold's room and closed the door quietly. 'And I'm in Arnold's room! Alone in Arnold's room! Oh my gosh.' She stepped towards Arnold's bed, feeling weak at the knees, and flopped down on it, grabbing his pillow and holding it to her chest. She inhaled a deep and shaky breath. 'Oh my god, I have got to find out what shampoo he uses one of these days.' This was the closest thing to heaven she had experienced so far. She felt a little like monologuing, but deemed it far too risky given the situation, Arnold being due back any moment. She regretfully sat up, carefully putting his pillow back in place, and looked around the room. Some of the older things had been upgraded or replaced. She noticed that he wired a proper battery to his potato clock, and guessed that he got tired of forgetting to replace the old potatoes over the years. Surely he'd forgotten at least a couple times and wound up waking up late? His old computer had been replaced with a laptop, and likely the stereo system had been improved, judging by the extra speakers hung along the walls.

Her thoughts came to an abrupt stop to the sound of the man she had been thinking of walking up the steps and opening the door. “It should be about 30 minutes. I tossed my clothes in there too, I hope you don't mind.” There was a silence before the sound of his rumbling stomach reminded the both of them of the sandwiches downstairs. “Wanna go get a bite to eat?”

Helga nodded, recalling her skipped dinner and frowning for a moment before standing up. The two teens made brief, awkward eye contact before heading downstairs.