Shortaki Week

𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 - 𝒄𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 - 𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆

“arnold, how many times do we have to go through this?”

as his best friend is about to give him the same scolding he’s received since middle school, arnold couldn’t be bothered to listen this time as he looks out the bus window with a small grin. he notes the few clouds in the morning blue sky, but doesn’t pay much attention to anything else happening around him, stuck in his daydreams.

“i could tell from that dopey smile of yours, you’re definitely not paying attention to me,” gerald remarks, rolling his eyes, “she hasn’t even gotten in the bus yet and you’re already thinking about her!”

a single 'mhm' is all that comes out of the lovesick daydreamer.

"mm-mm-mm, you really are a goner for helgs g. pataki, aren't ya?"

arnold nods, then shifts back in his seat to face his best friend.

"today's the day, gerald. i'm going to ask her out."

"i'd like to believe you buddy, but we've been though this cycle since middle school. it's not like she'll say yes, and that's even if you do muster up the courage to ask her. the girl won't even let you stand five feet within her without scaring you off."

"i know," arnold replies, feeling dejected for a moment before perking up again, "but it's the last day of school, and helga's going away for the summer. i won't have this chance again for another two months."

gerald sighs, knowing there's no more voice of reason in this exchange, "whatever you say, arnold. well, speak of the devil."

with gerald's final comment, the former bully, now donning a grey beanie where her old signature pink bow used to be, boards the school bus, walking to sit in the back.

typically, phoebe would be waiting in the back for her best friend to join her, but this morning she arrived much earlier due to volunteering arrangements for cleaning out the classrooms; the science labs in particular.

so, there is helga g. pataki, sitting alone in the back of the bus, writing in her little black notebook.

both boys notice the girl by her lonesome, prompting gerald to give his friend a nudge of encouragement.

"what are you waiting for?" he asks in a whisper, "she's sitting alone in the back seat, and phoebe's already at school. ask to sit next to her!"

"okay, okay!" arnold whispers back before getting up from his seat, now walking towards the pre-occupied blonde; writing in her journal with a small scowl on her face.

when he's only a mere foot away from her, arnold clears his throat to get her attention. blue eyes meet green, and suddenly, arnold freezes up.

"gonna talk to me, football-head? or you just wanns stand around catching flies with your mouth?" she asks, her voice cutthroat and full of indifference.

"uh- um- i-i-" arnold stammers, trying to find the words. "i wanted to ask-"

unfortunately, before he could finish his question, a sharp brake shakes the bus, causing arnold to momentarily lose his balance, catching himself in the last second.

"HS 118!" the bus driver calls out, his voice booms along the vehicle, "everybody out!"

helga gets up, snapping her book shut with one hand, and getting her backpack with the other.

"sorry, arnoldo," she brushes past him, her face still filled with disinterest, "gotta meet up with pheebs to return her textbook. i'll see you around."

𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒍 - 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒚 - 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈

she really needs to stop getting her hopes up every year... at this point, she doesn't even know how she lets herself get carried away. is it because—in spite of the rare moments where her so-called parents haven't neglected her for once and had given some concern for her—she'd hold out for the potential that they could actually remember her birthday for once?

feeling the hot tears beginning to well up in her eyes, the sound of jingling chains and a soft greeting in a familiar voice pulls the pink-bowed girl from her thoughts.

"hey helga, happy birthday."

her blue eyes look up to meet green ones, giving him a mindless blink before shaking her head; ridding herself of any lovesick thoughts from clouding her mind.

"what's so happy about it, football head?" she spats, kicking the woodchips below and tightening her grip on the chain, pushing herself higher on the swing. arnold mirrors her, but does so with less aggression.

"i'm happy, we get to celebrate you. being here with you," he reasons with a smile and slightly-pink cheeks.

helga blushes as well, but tries to keep her walls up.

"we're together for six hours a day, five days a week, and that's just school. then we get slausen's and play football or baseball outside of that. you're with me nearly every day. what makes today so different?"

arnold plants his feet into the ground, halting his swing.

"because if today never existed, you wouldn't exist. and i don't even want to imagine a world without helga g. pataki in it, even if other people care a little less than i do."

helga digs her heels into the woodchips, stopping her swing more abruptly.

then, she finally breaks down.

"i thought things would be more different, arnold! you'd think that after seeing your kid's life in danger more than one time would make them ought to act differently," she cries out.

he doesn’t say anything, he just listens. not that he’d have much to say anyways, not when every word that came from her mouth has been a hard truth—one she’s been holding heavily in her heart with bitter resentment for as long as she can remember.

yet, when helga goes silent as well, letting the tears slide down her cheeks and landing on her lap, arnold was willing to do anything to stop her from crying.

just then, like an answered prayer, gleeful cheers and carnival music can be heard from the distance… and the pungent scent of dairy too, no doubt.

the football-headed boy stares off in the direction of the cheese festival—bright, flashing, colourful lights and all. one thing in particular that stood out to him, though, is the giant flashing wheel turning slowly in its spot.

"hey, the cheese festival's back up again..." arnold points out softly, "why don't we go and ride the ferris wheel?"

helga sniffles before making a remark: "if you think some dumb ferris wheel's gonna remedy my crappy family—"