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—"