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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
"ARNOLD!" Arnold jumped as Gerald yelled in his ear.
"Ouch! Fuck, man, what?" He grinned, put an elbow on Gerald's shoulder so he could lean on him, and went back to staring at the tall blonde who was dancing in a crowd.
Gerald sighed grumpily. "Never mind man, you won't remember shit anyways." They stood silent for a minute. Arnold raised his beer to his lips and swallowed, keeping his gaze on Helga. She looked fantastic. Her dress, modest on most people, was SHORT on her long legs. She had turned up in pigtails, but she had tugged her hair free hours ago, and it was swinging heavily against her back.
He studied her, how her boots made her legs look even longer, how when she raised her arms, a gap formed between her skin and the top of her dress. How she danced, kinda slow, swaying, in time to the music. He had been half convinced that she wouldn't show up, but she had been there, wide-eyed and nervous. His mouth had gone dry when he had seen her, her eyes dark, her painted, crazy-full lips.
"So… you gonna go for it?" Gerald interrupted Arnolds reverie.
He took another swig. "If I get even the flimsiest of chances." He said somberly.
Gerald laughed. He caught Phoebe's eye, and gestured for her to come and join them. Phoebe came, grinning, with Helga in tow. "Prove it." He laughed, before swooping down and catching Phoebe around the waist. "You look good enough to eat out there baby, come get a drink with me?" He shot Arnold a meaningful look as her carried Phoebe off to the drinks table, leaving Arnold and Helga standing alone.
"Phew!" Helga sighed and leaned up against the low wall that encircled the rooftop "I haven't danced in forever!" Arnold watched as she lifted the hair from her neck and dropped her head forward. "Sooooo hot!" She groaned, and fanned the back of her neck with one hand.
"Fuck, you can say that again" Arnold murmured beneath his breath, and moved to sit on the wall next to her.
She straightened up, fanning her face with her hands. "God, I could use a drink." She slumped forwards, feigning exhaustion.
"Here". Arnold held his beer out to her, wishing he didn't feel so nervous and stiff, wishing he could just put his arm around her.
She took the bottle and pressed her lips to the neck of it. He watched, transfixed, as she took a long, slow swig. Her throat undulated as she swallowed, her eyes closed, her lips were wet, shining against the green glass. Arnold tore his gaze away and shifted uncomfortably as X-rated thoughts flew unbidden into his head.
He heard the 'glug' as she finished her mouthful and took the bottle from her lips. She sighed contentedly, and pressed the bottle against his hand, leaning her arm against his. "Thanks." She stated simply as he wrapped his hand around the bottle, her fingers beneath his. He meant to take the drink from her hand, but she pressed her arm harder against his, leaning into him, and he slid his fingers further around hers, covering her hand with his own.
They sat like that for minutes, not-quite-holding-hands, as the party raged on around them.
People moved in and out of the crowd of dancers like wax in a lava lamp. Deck chairs had been pulled into a semi-circle, and people lounged on them, talking and shouting. A card-based drinking game of some sort was being played by a bunch of people sitting on the ground. Couples were making out all over the place, the night had grown dark and streetlamps cast long shadows.
"Who's that?" Helga asked, pointing to a tall, brutally good-looking guy, who was talking to Rhonda and Nadine. "He looks familiar."
Arnold laughed. "Stinky." He snorted, "I told you he had changed."
Helga sat upright, breaking the contact between their arms. "No fucking way!" She glared at Arnold. "You're kidding me, right? THAT man, is NOT Stinky!"
"You wanna go say hi?" He asked, reluctant to move, reluctant to share Helga with anyone else, let alone the new-and-improved Stinky Peterson.
Helga paused for a second, then slumped back down against him. Arnold sighed contentedly, then caught his breath for a second as she lay her head on his shoulder. He froze. He didn't dare move.
"Nah." Helga sighed. "I'll talk to him later. What the hell happened to him, anyway?"
Arnold explained how Stinky had been 'discovered' by a talent agency, and was now a model. "Seriously, that guy is raking it in. He can't stand it, but if he saves everything he can for the next couple of years, he can basically retire, and spend the rest of his life gardening."
A wave of excitement and anxiety ran through Arnold as Helga turned to press her face into his shoulder. She was still for a long moment, then collapsed into giggles. He pressed his cheek against her hair, wishing again that he had the guts to grab her. "Oh my GOD!" she wailed "That is so fucked up!" She pulled her head back to get air, but stopped short when their eyes met, the grin falling off her face.
For what felt like an hour, they just stared at each other. Arnold tried to smile, but his face felt rigid with nerves. "Helga…" he started, but had no idea how to finish. What could he say? Should he just kiss her? Those round, full lips were just a breath away from his.
"Fuck." He felt himself frown as he tried to figure out what to say. He watched her forehead crease as he slowly screwed things up. "Fuck it." He took a deep breath. "Helga. I like you. Like, I really, REALLY fucking like you…" He paused again, his breath shook in his lungs as adrenaline shot through him.
"I wanted to say something earlier, but Gerald said to wait till tonight, although now I have, it seems stupid…" he paused for a second, but Helga just sat perfectly still, her mouth open slightly, her eyes wide. "I'm only here for two more weeks, but… I… fuck. I want to see you, if you want."
There was a long silence.
…
…
…
She took a deep breath and slumped back, smiling slightly. "I didn't know you were capable of swearing so much." Her smile broadened.
"Fuck, I'm sorry… I mean.. ah shit. SORRY!" Arnold turned towards her, moved his hand up to quickly shift the bottle out of the way, and hold her hand between his. "Do you think… like… would you want to try and see, um… like…"
Helga giggled, then her face fell again. "Shit Arnold." She growled and shook her head. "Yeah. Yeah, I like you. I couldn't even begin to tell you how much."
Relief flooded through him, he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she interjected.
"I… I like you. Like… I like-like you." They grinned at that. "But, you're leaving." She sat for a second. "I don't want to… uh… do… stuff?.. and then for you to just leave." Her voice got more and more hesitant, until she finished, and just sat there, her eyes on their hands.
He sighed, relieved. Okay… So she liked him too, but she wasn't into fooling around, or long-distance. At least he knew where he stood. "Okay. I can work with that." He caught her eye as she glanced up at him, her eyebrow raised. "So… will you let me court you when I move back home?" She raised her eyebrow further, he felt his stomach drop. "Assuming of course you haven't been taken while I'm away…"
She laughed, a real grin spreading across her face. He felt his shoulders slump as they relaxed back into each other's company. "Yes, assuming THAT highly likely scenario doesn't eventuate… I would…" Helga's voice dropped, he couldn't be sure in the dark, but he thought she was blushing. "Yeah, Arnold, I would let you court me."
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Not exactly the ugly duckling