Summary sucks and the title will make more sense later.
CarlyxSam Femslash - Rated T for safety, haha.
I do not own iCarly or any of the characters within. Sadly.
It was Wednesday, raining and cold. Fredward and I were already at Carly's loft waiting on her patiently. Well, I say patiently. It was all I could do to just sit there staring at the muted TV and not punch the dweeb's face in. He was going on and on about some stupid idea for our webshow, iCarly. I had other things on my mind. Much more important things.
Carly would be home soon. She and Spencer had to go drop off their dad at the airport. Captain Robert Shay had just come back home to Seattle after two and a half years at sea, but the month long leave still wasn't enough for his kids. If you could call them that. Spencer was grown, a 28 year-old man. And Carly, well Carly had grown up pretty well herself. She was now 16 to my 17 and man was she gorgeous. Not that she ever wasn't completely beautiful, but these last few years she had really begun to fill out. And more recently, I've really begun to notice.
Crushes are hard. Especially if they're on your best friend. Who happens to be a girl. And a straight one at that. I can't tell you when I started thinking of Carly that way. When I look back on my life with her, I think I've always liked her deep down somewhere inside of me. Now I can tell you when I realized this. It was several months ago, during the summer.
Spencer took Carly, Freddie, and me camping at the beach. We spent the whole day playing in the water, building sand castles, sunning, and just goofing off. That night was devoted to toasting marshmallows and hot dogs around a bonfire while telling "scary" stories. Of course, none of them frightened me, mainly because of the way Spencer could never keep a straight face when trying to be serious, if only for a moment. But the one I told – about a group of teenagers who were picked off one by one by a malicious serial killing cannibal – seemed to make an impression on Carly.
That night when we went to sleep, Carly and me in one tent and Spencer and Freddie in another, I noticed Carly jumping at nearly every sound coming from the beach and wilderness around us. I asked her if she was okay and, naturally, she said she was fine. But I knew she was lying. I beckoned her to scoot closer so I could protect and comfort her. She did. She laid her head on my chest and I snuggled her close, keeping one arm tight around her waist. We woke up in the exact same position, neither of us moving an inch all night. It was while I watched Carly sleep, twirling her long dark brown locks in my fingers that I realized. I realized that I didn't love her like a best friend should. I was in love with her. And that's when things started getting complicated.
So I sat there in silence with Freddie. Sometime between me threatening his life with a bone from the ham I was picking apart and me falling into a completely cliché and teenagery daydream about Carly's backside, he finally shut up about whatever techy, iCarly crap he was going on and on about.
"You think she's gonna be okay?" he asked me, breaking the silence.
"The question you should be asking is if you're gonna be okay when I shank you with this ham bone." I sneered at him. I wasn't lying when I said I had my mind on other things. Freddie was making it more and more difficult to imagine how I was finally gonna tell Carly my secret. That for the past several months, she's all I've been able to think about. That not being with her was slowly breaking my heart and that I needed her to feel complete. I had decided to tell her tonight when I stayed over. I had to tell her or I felt like I was going to explode.
"Sam." Freddie said calmly. His tone made me look at him from across the sofa. I took in his features. He genuinely seemed worried.
"What is it Fred-weird?"
"Do you think Carly's gonna be okay? You know, when she and Spencer get back?"
"They're just dropping off the Captain at the airport. It's not like it's a funeral or something. He'll be back."
"Yeah, but Sam, he's their dad. You know what it's like to miss somebody like that." He almost made it seem like a question rather than a statement.
"No." I replied simply.
"You don't ever miss your dad?" he asked me.
"Nope. Never."
"That's not normal." I was starting to get ticked off now.
"No, Fredward, what's not normal is your face."
"Funny." He said dryly. I glared at him for a few minutes before picking myself up off the couch and taking the half eaten ham back to the refrigerator.
"Well it's not like my dad misses me, so why should I miss him?" I called out on my way back to the living room.
"Why wouldn't he miss you?" Freddie inquired. He seemed really interested. For some reason this bugged me.
"Carly never told you?" I asked him. He shook his head. "Of course. Carls isn't one for gossip."
"Gossip?" he asked. I sighed and sat back down.
"Look Freddork, if it'll get you to shut up..." I began. This was much harder for me to explain than it should be. "My dad left when he found out my mom was pregnant with a girl. Said he wanted someone to 'carry the Puckett name.' Something like that. Though, I doubt if it really had anything to do with me at all.
"But my mom blamed me. That's one of the reasons we fight all the time. She apparently loved him or some stupid crap and he just up and left. That's also probably one of the reasons I am how I am today. A tomboy." I stopped to consider whether or not to go on with the story. "I dunno, but I guess when I was little I thought that if I acted like a boy and could beat all the boys at school in things like races and other stuff that he'd somehow come back. That he'd want to come back." I finally admitted.
"Sam, that's really sad." Freddie sympathized with me. I just shrugged. That's all I ever could do in situations like these. Just shrug it off. It's not like I hated Freddie. Not really. But he did annoy me. People, in general, annoy me. All except one, and that's Carly.
"It's only sad if you're a pussy. Like yourself." I told him. He rolled his eyes at me in exasperation. I always did that. I always pushed people away when I really could actually use a friend to talk to. I sighed and leaned into the sofa resting my head back while closing my eyes.
"I'm sorry." I told him.
"What?" he asked, shocked. "What are you sorry for?"
"I don't know. I'm a real jerk to you sometimes. You're sitting here trying to help me and Carly and all I can do is call you a 'pussy.' I'm sorry." I could feel his eyes burning into me even though I dared not open mine.
"Uh, it's okay. I guess." He told me.
"No it's not. Every time someone shows the slightest bit of interest in my life or my feelings, I basically just kick them in the groin. I'm a fuck up." This time I could hear him cringe at my words. Freddie hated the word "fuck." It was one of my favorites.
"You're not a – a fuck up. You're just, well, Sam." Was all he could say.
"Gee, thanks." I retorted.
"I didn't mean it as an insult." He quickly corrected himself. "I just meant that you have your own way of doing things. And that's not your fault." I opened my eyes and looked at him. He had scooted himself a little bit closer to me on the couch. I laughed inwardly as this reminded me of every stupid teen relationship movie. The boy scooting closer and closer to the girl on the sofa – or bench, whatever – until he was near enough to close the space between their mouths for a first kiss. I found this really amusing. Not sure why.
"Wanna make out?" I asked him simply. He choked on his own spit. Score one for Sam, I thought to myself.
"W-wh- what?!" he spat out.
"Relax. I'm just kidding." I laughed. "You should see the look on your face right now. Classic."
"I don't understand you." He replied shaking his head.
"And you never will." I smiled back.
A few minutes later a solemn looking Carly and Spencer arrived back home. Apparently this whole "saying goodbye" thing had been hard on them. Carly found her way to the couch and plopped down in the middle between me and Freddie.
"You okay?" Freddie asked her sweetly. He seemed more in tune with her emotions than I did. And that scared me.
"Yeah." She sighed out. "It's just another whole year before he's home again. It's a long time." She began to play with the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing. I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. I really didn't know what to say, but luckily Spencer saved me when he called out from the kitchen, holding a phone in his left hand.
"You guys hungry?" he asked with a little too much enthusiasm. I could tell he was trying to be strong for Carly.
"Not really." Carly replied softly.
"Well when you are, let me know. We'll order something special. My treat." He put the phone back on the hook and made his way over to where we were sitting, kissing the top of Carly's head. "Cheer up, kiddo." He told her before retreating back to his bedroom.
The three of us sat in silence for a few seconds longer before Carly suddenly perked up, clapping her hands together. "Well we should probably get ready for the show."
"Are you up for it?" Freddie asked. "We could always cancel. I'm sure the fans would understand."
"No way!" she said jumping up. "We didn't cancel when you had that stomach flu. Or when Sam's cat died. And we're not about to break our clean record just cause I'm a little down."
"Okay." Freddie agreed whilst standing. They both looked at me. I was still sitting, deep in concentration. I suppose I didn't notice at first when they started calling my name. I was too busy thinking about tonight and how I would finally come out and tell Carly that she was the only one for me. It took Carly actually physically shaking me to snap me out of it.
"Sam, are you okay? You haven't said anything since I got back."
"Sam?"
"SAM!"
"Huh? Oh. Sorry." I told her lamely.
That night's episode of iCarly went just as rehearsed. Shutting down your feelings and emotions to become this uber peppy, uber excited being for 30 minutes every week had become almost second nature to me. It seemed just as easy for Carly. The second Freddie shouted out, "And we're clear!" her demeanor completely changed. She went from all smiles and laughs to borderline depressed. I was really worried about her, but of course, all I could say was,
"I want some more ham!"
Freddie gave me this incredulous look like he couldn't believe I'd bring up something as trivial as ham when our best friend was standing just feet away on the verge of breaking down. I shrugged him off and went ahead downstairs. I was completely useless in situations like these and Freddie seemed like he could handle it himself, so why not just leave them be?
Focusing on nothing but my persistent hunger for some delicious pork flavored goodness, I headed from the foot of the stairs straight into the kitchen. Walking to the refrigerator, I saw something new pinned up on the front with a Mickey Mouse magnet that I didn't notice earlier. It was a picture of me. How strange yet appropriate. I pried the heavy stainless steel door open and glanced through the fridge's contents looking for my prize. No luck. I took a second look before beginning to rummage through all the food and drinks. No ham. Damn. Spencer must've had the last of it.
I swung the door shut a little harder than I meant to while letting out a low growl that seemed to replicate my stomach's rumble for my favorite food.
"You looking for the ham?" Spencer's voice caught me off guard as I spun around to see him perched on the sofa in the living room, the more than halfway eaten honey baked ham sitting on a platter on the coffee table in front of him.
Without speaking I walked to the living room and plopped myself down on the couch next to him. He handed me a piece he had just cut off and smiled. Spencer knew better than to get between me and my ham.
"Thanks." I sighed out as the delicious, delicious meat entered my mouth. After a few more bites (and involuntary moans,) I noticed Spencer was still looking at me.
"What?" I asked him. I swear I didn't mean for it to sound as rudely as it did.
"Nothing. It's just nice, that's all."
"What is?"
"Oh, just the fact that every day you come here, eat our food, drink our drinks, watch our TV, but you still come. You still show up. Even after you and Carly would have a fight, you were always just... here."
"Uh... okay?" I wasn't sure if he was trying to be sarcastic or not. This bothered me.
Spencer laughed. "It's like the tides. Or how the sun always rises and sets in the same places each day. It's predictable. But nice."
"Are you on something? Let me guess, weed, right?" He laughed at me again.
"Do you smell any weed?" he asked. I was about to answer, but stopped. To say "no," would imply that I knew what weed smelled like in the first place. Somewhere I didn't feel like going with Spence. Instead I rolled my eyes and chomped down on some more ham.
"Sam, you should know that this predictability has a calming effect on me and Carly alike. It's like, zen, you know? Say if one day, just out of the blue you decided to stop showing up… Well, it'd really mess with us."
This seriously confused me. Spencer saw this confusion and gave me a gentle pat on the arm.
"I found this." he said, grabbing a folded up piece of paper inside his pocket and handing it to me. "It was on the floor. You must have dropped it or something."
I felt a jolt make its way through my stomach as I realized what he was handing me. It was my backup. Plan B. If I couldn't go through with telling Carly how I felt tonight, I was going to leave her this note before I left in the morning. I didn't realize it was no longer in my pocket where it belonged.
The note itself was fairly vague and non-descript. It said something along the lines of "Carly, you're my best friend in the world, but I've just gotta get through some of my own stuff right now. I'm in a bad place. I think we should just stop hanging out for a little while. Maybe put iCarly on hiatus so I can get my head straight. I really hope you understand - Sam."
"It would crush her. And I think you know this." Spencer told me calmly. I put the folded note back inside my pant's pocket and swallowed hard.
"Look, you don't have to tell me what's going on. It's none of my business. But I think that if you gave that note to Carly... well, I think that it'd be bad. Can you promise you won't do it? You won't leave her hanging? Not like this, anyway?" he pointed down to where my pocket now concealed my Plan B. I nodded feebly.
"I wasn't going to give it to her." I told him. Suddenly my mouth felt dry. Maybe it was my nerves, maybe it was the ham. "I mean, I was. But only if... only as a..." I trailed off. Now Spencer was the one nodding.
"Well if you wanna, you know, talk about it, I'm always here." he patted my arm again and I couldn't help it. All this raw, unadulterated emotion that I had been keeping pinned up inside of me these past few months. All the hurt and unrequited love. All the secrets and me trying to hide things from her, in fear that she might find out. Well I guess it all finally caught up to me. I broke down. Hard. I began to cry. No, scratch that. I began to sob.
"Hey, hey, hey. Don't cry." Spencer soothed. He pulled me into a sort of sideways hug, both of us sitting on the sofa. I sobbed even harder. I cried like a baby and I'm not proud of it. It was just something I had to do. Something I had to get out of my system.
"It's okay." he told me as I used his shoulder as my own personal handkerchief, letting his cotton t-shirt catch most of my tears.
I hate the fact that I can get so emotional sometimes. I've only ever seen Carly cry once before. It was right after her mom died, when we were in the 6th grade. That month her dad was to be stationed off somewhere in Hawaii. He had to go, he had no choice. This left Carly virtually alone with no one but Spencer. That was a hard year for all of the Shays, but Carly was strong. She's always strong. And it just makes me feel worse for crying over things so trivial.
Man. All this self hate is so middle school. Why can't I just grow the fuck up?
"Woah, what's going on?" Freddie asked from the bottom of the staircase, Carly in his wake. I quickly wiped my eyes with my shirt sleeve and looked up over the couch. But there was no fooling them, it was evident that I was just crying my eyes out on Spencer's shoulder. No hiding it now.
"Oh my god, Sam! Are you okay?!" Carly asked as she rushed to my side. Leave it to Carls to put others before herself. I knew she was hurting and for her to be worried over me? The guilt was just too much.
"I'm fine. I, uh. I gotta go." I said standing, wiping my face with my hands once more. Carly gave me a confused look.
"I thought you were spending the night…?" she started, but before I was forced to answer, Spencer stood up for me.
"I think it might be best that Sam goes home. She's not feeling too well. She can stay another night." He told her. Carly's expression didn't lighten as she appraised the situation, but she had no choice but to accept it.
"Oh, well okay. I, er, hope you feel better Sam." She looked at me with eyes full of hurt and chagrin. She knew something was up. And the fact I wouldn't say – and even had Spencer lying for me – seemed to bother her. A lot. "Call me later, okay?" She asked, sounding a bit more forced than normal.
"Sure." I said while grabbing my jacket from the hook at the door. "Later."
And with that, I left for the long, chilly walk back home. Little did I know that would be one of the last times I ever saw Carly again. Alive.
Ehhh, I'm not totally happy with this story so far. Just doesn't seem "right" to me, you know? But I do have big plans for it. Plans that I hope to soon turn into a chapter two. Let me know what you think. :)
