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Not exactly the ugly duckling	By : DancingBear Category: +G through L > Hey, Arnold! Views: 5459 -:- 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-Not exactly the ugly duckling
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 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
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-Epilouge
- 21
- 22
- 23
Before she even opened her eyes, Helga knew she'd be hung-over. She could feel her head pounding and her throat was dry.

She struggled upright before cautiously opening her eyes a crack. Her laptop was open on top of the dishevelled bedclothes, a half empty bag of pretzels next to it, spilling salt and crumbs onto the bed. Sliding her feet out of the covers, she put her feet on the floor, her toes knocking into an empty beer bottle.

She leaned over and surveyed the litter of green glass bottles strewn over the carpet. She counted at least a half dozen … and to top it off, it seems she'd cracked into Bob's weed. Her pipe and a lighter sat accusingly next to some of the empties on her bedside table.

"Awesome… pity party." She growled to herself, before hefting herself up and padding to the bathroom.

She was a mess. Her eyes were swollen, ringed with circles so dark they looked bruised. Her face was kinda puffy, her lips bright red. She crawled into the shower with her toothbrush, and spent half an hour under the water, trying not to freak out about the previous night… or what she could remember of it, at least.

What the fuck was her problem? Arnold was the nicest guy in the world, and she kept throwing it back in his face!

"WHY AM I SUCH A FUCKING TOOL?" She yelled, wincing as her head thumped in retaliation to her loud voice.

She wanted to cry, but it felt like she had done so much of that the night before that all her tears were dried up. She remembered the fight, then raging for a while, then getting on her laptop and checking every three seconds to see if he had come online… she must have eventually passed out.

Gah. She didn't even know what to feel. She was mostly embarrassed… ashamed, if she was going to be honest with herself. What a fucking bitch. Arnold had treated her with nothing but respect and sweetness, and she had snarled at him. After all these months of swallowing her violent instincts, she thought she had finally gotten over her childish lashing out.

Apparently not.

One 'rejection' and she had been at his throat. It wasn't even a real rejection! If anything, it was an amazing guy wanting to be closerto her!

"ARGH!" she thumped her head against the glass. She needed to apologise.

She got out, gingerly dried off, made herself a cup of tea (sugary… a hangover trick) and shuffled back into bed.

She checked her phone, email and Facebook, but he hadn't been in touch. She couldn't blame him. Agonising over the wording for minutes, she tapped out a text:

I am so sorry… for everything.

Taking a deep breath, she hit the 'send' button, and hoped to hell he hadn't written her off. She grabbed her Kindle from where it lay on the other pillow, and tried to read to take her mind of things, it was only 9.40 am… he was probably still in bed…

9.45

9.50

10.00

At 10.03 her phone buzzed. Anxiety instantly ran through her. What if he was telling her to fuck off?

She steeled herself, closing her eyes and forcing herself to calm down, before she opened her phone.

Me too :)

The relief that flooded through her was instant. Without thinking, she hit the 'call' button, and held her breath as her phone tried to connect, her stomach leaping, her fingers toying with the sheet.

The phone didn't ring, but clicked over straight away. At first, she thought she had gone straight to voicemail, but there was a rustling, and a thump, and she heard his voice, muffled, as though he was away from the phone.

He must have picked up by accident and not realised. She was about to hang up, when she heard another voice… a girls…

Her heart lurched, she strained to hear what the girl was saying: "…you doing for the rest of the day?"

She sounded young, sultry… with a sleepy, just-woken-up drawl to her voice. Helga was so shocked she didn't know what to think, she just lay with the phone to her ear.

"I dunno… I wanna head home and get changed and stuff…" there was a murmur of protest from the mystery girl, but Arnold chuckled. "… Don't worry, I'll be back for more. Who could say no to you?"

Helga just caught the girl's giggle before she snapped her phone shut, not wanting to hear any more. She instantly regretted it, wishing she had listened a bit longer. She swallowed, her heart thumping so hard in her chest it hurt.

Arnold… girl…

Her hands were shaking, she felt sick… really sick…

Lurching out of bed, she ran to the bathroom, making it just in time to vomit into the toilet. On her knees, sweaty and shaking, she heaved until her throat and nose were burning. Tears burned her eyes, she couldn't breath properly, she choked, coughing when she tried to inhale and vomit at the same time.

Eventually she lay on the cold tile floor, pressing her hot, clammy cheek against the cream ceramic. She still struggled for breath. It was like her lungs couldn't fill up all the way.

Who was that girl? Her voice sounded vaguely familiar… but then, she could just be going crazy. Had Arnold really spent the night with someone else? After he claimed to care about her, after he wouldn't spend the night with her? The thought made her head spin, pain gripped her, physical pain cramped her stomach, made her struggle for breath.

She tried to calm herself, rationalise, but then that giggle would replay in her head and she'd grimace in agony. The logical part of her brain told her to text him, sort it out. Better yet, sleep, then get in touch with him. But the emotional part, the part of her that hurt,didn't want to know… she just couldn't face how much it would cut, if it turned out he had left her last night, only to fuck someone else.

Sleep seemed like the best option, either way.

"I need to sleep." She whispered to the empty bathroom.

She clawed herself up up, brushed her teeth again, blew her nose, and stole in to Bob's room, to do something that she hadn't done in years.

Miriam's medicine cabinet.

'Untouched' since she had died, the white, mirrored cabinet on the ensuite wall was FULL of various medications, but she was looking for one in particular… she fingered through the masses of bottles and jars, their labels yellowing.

"Ah." She picked out a small box, pulled out the tab at the end, and slid the foil-covered blisters out onto her palm. Alprazolam… Xanax. "Hello old friend." She smiled ruefully. Miriam had buckets of this crap lying around. She kept being prescribed it for chemo and anxiety and the like, but never took it, preferring her 'shakes' to her meds. Helga had helped herself quite a few times, both before and after Miriam's death, but it had been years since the last time she'd felt the need to numb herself.

Taking one of the blister packs, she put the rest back where it belonged, and snuck back out of the room.

She picked up the empties, put her pipe away, cleaned up the pretzels, wiped up crumbs, straightened the bed, and put a full bottle of water by her pillow.

Eventually, she climbed in between her sheets. "I hope this shit doesn't go off." She said to no one, turning the blister over, looking for an expiry date. Not finding one, she pressed her thumb against the plastic bubble, enjoying the pop of the foil as the small, diamond shaped pill fell into her palm.

She eyed it up, scrutinising it. "Yeah, yeah, I know…" there was a long silence, the room still, her eyes glued to the Xanax. "I'm a pussy…" she sighed, before throwing back the pill into her mouth, and taking a swig of her water.

She picked her Kindle back up, and tried to pass time till it kicked in… tried to ignore the tears as they slid slowly down her cheeks.
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Not exactly the ugly duckling