Disclaimer: hahahaha yeah right
"No, but seriously," Carly giggled, "I have to tell you something."
"Please Carls, I know that Italian boys are hot. I don't need you to rub this in my face anymore."
Sam smirked at her friend through the computer screen. This had become a nightly routine for the two girls. They may be hundreds of miles away from each other, but they're not going to let a silly thing like that put a crack in their friendship.
"Well…" Carly looked at her hands and then up to the ceiling. She coughed twice and then looked over at the wall. "You see…"
"Carly, spit it out. You're making me all itchy here with the suspense," Sam snapped.
Carly inhaled and closed her eyes.
"The day I left…Freddie and I, kind of…ya know, uhm-kissed."
Sam's breathing stopped. The hand that was scratching her eyebrow dropped to the bed and with open eyes she blinked at her brunette friend. Her brunette friend who was looking increasingly manic by the second.
When Sam realized she had been silent for far longer than what would have been considered normal she coughed out an, "Oh?"
Carly cringed and frantically started rambling.
"I promise it meant nothing, Freddie and I aren't even like that. I'm in Italy for Christ's sake, it was more of-".
As the pitch of Carly's voice got higher and the speed of her sentences got faster, Sam completely tuned her out and focused on her lips.
Carly's perfect pink, heart-shaped lips that were usually coated with some sort of fruity gloss that constantly made that mouth look kissable. Apparently extremely kissable to Freddie. 'Cause that's what it seems like he's only good for. Kissing Carly. Even though he used to be in a relationship with Sam. Even though he talked about being back in a relationship with Sam. No matter all of that. He would always be kissing Carly. It would always be Carly.
"-the reason I'm even telling you this is because, you are my best friend. I would never keep any thing from you. And…I know how you feel about him. Deep down I always knew how you felt about him. I guess I got jealous or something which is ridiculous because I do not have feelings for Freddie-Sam? Sam look at me."
The blonde turned her head up so through the computer screen blue eyes met brown.
"I do not have feelings for Freddie. You have to know that. I did a bad thing, I'm a bad friend. But you have to know-."
Sam couldn't take this conversation anymore. She was on a very thin rope and it was on the brink of snapping.
"Carly," she whispered, "I could care less if you do or not. I don't have feelings for Freddie. If you kissed him that's fine. I don't care. You two deserve each other. You always deserved each other. I don't care about Freddie."
Her response was almost mechanical.
Carly shook her head at Sam. "No, Sam. Please. I don't want you to be mad-."
"I'm not mad," Sam interrupted.
It was true. Sam couldn't be mad at Carly. She never could.
"I'm not mad, but I am tired. Mama's got a long day ahead of her tomorrow," Sam feigned a smile.
By the look on Carly's face, she could only imagine how awful that fake smile looked.
"Sam," Carly's voice trembled.
"Carly. Swear. I'm just tired okay? I'll talk to you later."
Carly blinked and looked down. She knew there was nothing she could say to fix what she had done. She was stupid, stupid, stupid sometimes. Carly Shay always had to be the best right? Carly Shay always had to win. She hung her head in shame and mumbled, "Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Sam."
Sam slammed her laptop and kicked it off the bed. She rolled over on her side and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself.
Breathe. She thinks. Inhale. Exhale.
She repeats this mantra in her head cause if she stops other thoughts will crash over her like a wave and bring her down, down, down and she wouldn't be able to resurface.
If her best friend abandoning her to stay in this dreary wasteland that is Seattle wasn't enough, finding out she lost the man she loved to her definitely was the cherry on top.
It was time she stopped kidding herself. She had dreamt up this imaginary world where now that Carly left, Freddie and her would grow closer. That they would bond over the mutual sadness of their over-seas friend.
Maybe they would become friends. They would hang out on a regular basis; he would do her homework for her, and she would…well she would provide witty commentary. Maybe they would go see a movie together or maybe go out for dinner. Then they could revisit their relationship. Maybe she could prove that she was normal enough for him.
Cause that's all he wanted right? Was for her to be more normal so they could finally be together? Wrong.
All he wanted was for her to be more like Carly. And no matter what Sam did, she would never be Carly.
She knew this for a fact because for a majority of her life, that's all she had been trying to do.
"Sammy! I'm going out with Ted! I'll be back…ehh…whenever!"
She heard her mom slam the door and wondered if she would be seeing her back tonight or sometime next week. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. She bit her lip and blinked a couple tears from her eyes. She ran her hand across her face before they had a chance to fall from her cheeks.
She looked over to the table beside her bed. A picture of Sam and her twin sister Melanie looked back at her, along with a picture of her, Carly, and Freddie.
Suddenly she was very, very angry.
She reached out and pushed the picture of the trio down. She grimaced when she heard the crash! of the broken glass. Rolling off of her bed and landing on the floor, she ripped the picture from the glass and frame. Carly was giving a tiny smirk as she looped her arm through Sam's. On the other side of Carly was Freddie's big goofy grin with his arm around Carly's dainty shoulders.
Of course Carly's in the middle. When is she not the center of all attention? Look at Freddie he just looks oh so happy to be-
Riiiiiiip.
Sam's thoughts are interrupted by the sound of paper ripping. She blinks and looks at her hands, she must have ripped the picture by accident. She lifts a finger and runs it down the rip, noticing how she ripped the picture directly in between Freddie and Carly.
An unnoticed tear falls down her cheek as she cautiously grabs the two corners of the picture and-
Riiiiiiiiip.
Two halves of the picture looks up at her. Carly and Sam standing arm and arm, and a big goofy smiling Freddie, arm torn off at the shoulder. More tears seem to fall, but she doesn't know why. She's not upset. Ripping that picture felt good. In fact, it felt great. So great, that she needs to do it again.
Throwing herself to her feet she storms to her closet door, ripping it open. She's slashing through clothes and other clutter that she has packed in the small space, not aware of the savage sounds she's making.
She finally finds what she's looking for, a light blue box. Sinking to her knees, she throws the lid of the box half-way across her room. She doesn't feel or see the cut on her hand from the glass of the picture frame. She doesn't care that she's bleeding. She looks down at pictures and other small keepsakes from the past 5 or 6 years of her life, gives a little sob, and starts demolishing them.
Picture after picture of her and Carly, her and Spencer, her and Freddie get's shred to pieces. Her autograph from the world's fattest priest, her Shelby Marx's fight ticket, even an old Penny-T. She rips and bites and crumples all of it. Soon she's crying and she can't stop and she's screaming and the box isn't enough, she has to get rid of iCarly and Freddie and Carly and everything that makes her hurt because her father left and Mel left and Carly left and Freddie left her. That one hurts the most because that's something he promised he would never was abandon her cause he knows how it feels to have someone you love leave you, but it doesn't matter. Cause he did. He left her for her best friend, although she's not sure if he technically left her cause now she's not so sure he was ever her's to begin with.
Soon she's lying in the middle of her floor surrounded by pieces of destroyed memories. Soon her tears run out. Soon she stops thinking. But the pain doesn't stop; she doesn't expect it too.
After lying on the floor for far to long, she wipes her face and looks up. Taking in the damage she notices one thing that stands out. Laying on hundreds of little pieces of paper is the keys to the motorcycle Spencer gave her. She must have knocked it off of her wardrobe in the middle of her…episode.
She looks at those keys and sees something that she thought she had lost. Hope. Renewal. A second chance.
Pulling herself to her knees, she crawls over to the keys, picks them up and stares at them in her hands. She could do it. She could grab her things, hop on her bike and just…go.
With a shaky hand, she uses the doorknob to pull herself up in a standing position. Looking around at her demolished room, she sets her jaw and clinches her hand around the keys into a fist. She didn't think it would be that easy to make a decision.
After throwing everything she could need into two bags, she scours the wreckage that is her room to find two important things. Two pictures. Luckily, she does see them, tossed under her bed, completely in tact.
She hurries down stairs into her living room and finding some pen and paper writes three letters. One addressed to her mother, one addressed to Spencer, and the last one to Freddie. She didn't cry while writing these letters, and walking out the door, she isn't crying now. One thing she does know is that she will never let herself cry over him again.
She steals one of her neighbor's newspapers while running to her motorcycle, knowing it will probably come in handy later. She has three stops before she can go, the bank (to move some of her savings and other funds around), Bushwell Plaza (to drop off Spencer's and Freddie's letters with Lewbert), and finally to the local rest stop to purchase some sort of map to get her to California.
She throws her leg over her motorcycle and as she takes off, she doesn't look back. She rides off into to the twilight; the sun may be setting on this life, but it is rising in another. She's scared, heartbroken, but a little excited. Running off to L.A. could be the best decision she's ever made.
She hopes she doesn't have to see Seattle for a long time because there is one thing Sam knows for sure.
There's nothing left for her here.
Well, this is probably what would have happened after the ending of the little iCarly finale that we all watched in horror.
I can't tell yet if this is where I want to leave it or if I want to continue this story to give my little iCarly and Seddie heart peace, but I just have so many feelings right now towards that show it's ridiculous.
Bleh. Oh well. Please review!
Love, Lucy