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Finding your Feet	By : DancingBear Category: +G through L > Hey, Arnold! Views: 13192 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold, nor any of the characters. I do not, and will not make any money from this story. (Original creator: Craig Bartlett)

Chapter List
- 1-Finding your Feet
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-5
- 5-6
- 6-7
- 7-8
- 8-9
- 9-10
- 10-11
- 11-12
- 12-13
- 13-14
- 14-15
- 15-16
- 16-17
- 17-18
- 18-18
- 13
- 14
- 15
He didn't hear from her for days. He sent her a text, asking if she was OK. He called her, but she didn't pick up. He wanted to go to her apartment, bang on the door until she finally agreed to talk to him… but he couldn't invade her space like that.

"You… Arnold… are fucking bold." Gerald had grinned, his feet on Arnold's coffee table. "That line? It was genius!"

"But she didn't do anything! She just left!" Arnold moaned, another beer in his hand.

Gerald shrugged. "It doesn't matter man, give her a few days to think about it…" he laughed, let out a whistle. "A bone-fide grand romantic gesture…" He put his arm over Arnold's should, took a big swig of his drink, draining the bottle. "It was everything I dreamedit would be." He fluttered his eyelashes, swooning dramatically against Arnold's arm.

Despite his nerves, Arnold laughed, shoving Gerald off him. "You really think she'll get in touch? She was crying! And she hasn't replied to my text…"

Gerald groaned. "Jesus man… don't over think it! You just did something awesome… let her digest it, roll it around a while. You'll be fine, I promise." He stood, put his empty on the table. "I gotta go, work in the morning n' all. Lemme know what happens, OK?"

"Yeah, OK. 'Nite Gerald."

"Seeya… Romeo." Gerald winked, before swanning melodramatically from the apartment.

… but that had been days before, and he still hadn't heard from her. He was restless, always pacing. Jon had laughed at him, telling him he needed to work off more energy in the gym… so he had… He pushed himself hard, harder perhaps than he had before Jon had set him a goal. Now he was just working so he could concentrate on the burn in his muscles, instead of the churning ache in his stomach.

"Hey there, stranger?" Emma grinned at him, lounging in a chair in the hospital hallway.

"Hi…" he plonked down next to her. "Waiting for Ben?"

She smiled, nudged him with her elbow. "Nah, I'm waiting for you… figured we could go horseback riding." Her smile lit up her face.

He fidgeted for a second. "Would it be completely prickish of me to ask for your advice?" He could feel himself blushing… the last thing he wanted to do was hurt a friend. Emma had been pretty awesome after their break up… but still, he realised that talking to her about Helga was pretty callous.

"Ohhh, what did you do?" She twisted to face him better, put on her listening face. He laughed, despite himself. She could be a total goof when she wanted.

"Uh… you know how Helga sent me that cryptic message?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh…" She eyeballed him. "So… what did you do?"

He swallowed. "I, uh, might have gone and sung I messed up songs at that open mic night that she hosts…" He couldn't look at her face, both embarrassed and worried. "She bolted, haven't heard from her since."

She laughed… a real, hearty belly laugh. Arnold fliched.

"Oh… oh, I'm sorry Arnold… but that's awesome…" She sniffed, straightened her back, a twisted smile crinkling her eyes up. "Not her running away, of course… but the song thing. I thought you didn't like romantic comedies!" She grinned.

"Oh shut up." He sighed, smiling. "I don't know what to do!"

She shrugged. "Just leave it… was this last week?" he nodded. "So let her sit on it for a while. Then try something else… maybe something a little less, uh, intense." She beamed at him. "Seriously, that's awesome."

"What if she just wants me to fuck off though? And now I'm inadvertently harassing her?"

"Is she the kind of person who would tell you to piss off if you were annoying her?"

He laughed a little at that. "Yes." Unequivocally yes. Arnold didn't know anyone more likely to voice their displeasure. "OK… you're right. Thanks… and sorry… again."

"No problem, dork. You wanna come to dinner with us?"

He smiled. "Sure, if Ben doesn't mind?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah… 'cos Ben hates talking nerdy sci-fi crap."

On impulse he reached out and put his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her. She giggled. "You're good people, Emmy-poohs."

She squirmed her arm up and ruffled his damp hair. "Aw… you're not too bad yourself, Dickhead."

…

He was on the sofa when his phone went off. His heart pounded briefly, as it always did when he got a message or a call recently. He put his book down and slid his hand into his pocket. Who would be texting him at… 20:21 on a Tuesday night? Please let it be…

Gerald – Dude… you check your mail?

Damn… no, he had forgotten… he had been busy reminding himself to pull his Riddick DVD's out for Ben. He groaned, swung his legs off the sofa.

Arnold – No, why? Is it worth going downstairs for?

He would go down anyway, of course. He hated leaving the mail in the box… even though there was never anything good in there anyway.

He was in the elevator when he got a reply.

Gerald – Oh. Hell. Yes. Go check!

There was a wad of envelopes crammed in to the little box, he flicked quickly through them, looking for anything out of the ordinary. There were two fun-looking things. One square envelope, containing a CD or DVD or something… and a shiny white envelope, the kind that tended to contain wedding invitations.

He opened the invitation-looking one first… laughing out loud when he read the names on the pretty white paper.

Arnold – SID? O_O

He dumped the rest of the mail on the kitchen counter, taking the invite and the CD into the lounge.

Gerald – I know, right! You wanna be my plus 1, big boy?

Arnold – You know it, lover ;)

He was still chuckling to himself when he opened the other envelope. It was just a CD, with his name written on it. Weird. He flipped it over… there was information on it, definitely. But he wasn't about to stick an unidentified CD straight into his computer…

He got up and hobbled over to his stereo… his legs were really aching from the earlier punishment at the gym… He stuck the disc into the CD tray and pressed play.

His heart stuck in his throat.

…

Can you lie next to her

And give her your heart, your heart

As well as your body

And can you lie next to her

And confess your love, your love

As well as your folly

And can you kneel before the king

And say I'm clean, I'm clean

But tell me now, where was my fault

In loving you with my whole heart

But tell me now, where was my fault

In loving you with my whole heart

A white blank page and a swelling rage, rage

You did not think when you sent me to the brink, the brink

You desired my attention but denied my affections, my affections

Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life

…

He just stood there, gaping at the stereo as it accused him... there was no one else that could have sent this to him… He knew this song, well… it was White Blank Page by Mumford and Sons… the same band that he had covered at the Tar Whistle.

Those lines….

He pressed play again… listening to the words… he couldn't think of a single song that could wound him more.

... give her your heart, as well as your body…

… where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart…

… you desired my attention, but denied my affections…

Shit.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

"But what does it mean?" Arnold stood in front of Gerald as they listened to the song, his hands knotted, his forehead creased with frustration.

"Honestly man, I think it means you have a shot." Gerald leaned back, looked up at Arnold, and smiled. "I mean… she's hurt, yeah? But she's not telling you to get fucked."

Arnold just frowned.

Gerald sighed. "OK… if I had to, uh, interpret this…" he gestured to his laptop, where White Blank Page was playing on repeat "… then I'd say she's upset that you never, uh, I dunno… connected with her? But that she still wants you to try." He shrugged. "Balls in your court, man… she'll tell you to piss off if she gets sick of it, right?" Arnold nodded. "So do something else."

"What?"

He shrugged again. "I dunno. Maybe write her a letter or something?"

Arnold nodded, sat down.

"And fuck, man… calm down!" Gerald chuckled. "You're not going to explode or anything… take your time." He stretched out, put his feet on the coffee table. "I can find out if she's going to the wedding, if you like." He grinned. "I'm hoping maybe Phoebe'll be going…"

"That's a good idea… it won't be as, uh, stalker-ish if I try talk to her on, uh, neutral ground." Arnold nodded. "Thanks for putting up with this shit man."

"Don't you pay it no nevermind, Shortman." Gerald stretched. "I got your back."

... …. … … … … … … … … ... …. … … … … … … … … ... …. … … … … … … … …

Wish enough, wise man'll tell you a lie

Window broke, torn up screens

Who'd have thought that you'd dream

Of a single tragic scene

I just wanna sing a song with you

I just want to take it off of you

Cause Blue Eyes

You are all that I need

Cause Blue Eyes

You're the sweet to my mean

Fess it up, dot on the palm of your hand

I can help you to stand

Saved it up for this dance

Tell me all the things you can

I just wanna sing a song with you

I just wanna be the one that's true

Cause Blue Eyes

You're the secret I keep

Cause Blue Eyes

All the lights on and you are alive

But you can't point the way to your heart

So sublime, when the stars are aligned

But you don't know

You don't know the greatness you are

Cause Blue Eyes

You are destiny's scene

Cause Blue Eyes

I just wanna be the one

I just wanna sing a song with you

I just wanna get it on with you

Cause Blue Eyes

You're the secret I keep

Cause Blue Eyes

I just wanna sing a song with you…

…

Arnold pushed the square envelope into Helga's letterbox… wondering what her face would look like when she listened to the song… wondered if she would believe what he was telling her.

When did this change from wanting to say sorry, to wanting to say "I love you"?
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Finding your Feet