I glance around her brightly colored room that plays host to all the little toys and gadgets she has to keep her brain occupied and think how even it manages to look dark right now. The posters on the walls aren't from bands or TV shows, but those brainteasers that look like they're spinning or moving or whatever. She always wants me to look at them because apparently the faster they spin the crazier you are. Her walls are primary colors, except the one with the door out is purple because that's her favorite. On her desk is a slingshot her mom gave her to annoy the neighbors.
Everything else involves me. Pictures of all the time we've spent together, presents, stuffed animals won at the Puyallup fair, all of the notebooks I make her buy for school that she never uses. Everywhere is the clutter of abandoned candy wrappers, streamers, tinsel, a few spare clown noses, a Hilary Clinton mask from this last Halloween, beads, licorice rope, lip-gloss, and candle wax shavings.
As distracting as her bedroom is, I'm staring at her. I feel like I should just say something, or do something, so she'll stop crying and the world will stop spinning and it will all just stop. But I know there aren't words for this moment that could change anything.
She's just sitting there like the words I'd been fighting to keep in for over a year didn't slip between my parted lips and invade her ears. And that was okay, two days ago, because I knew she'd need time to adjust and think about it, but this is getting ridiculous. Now she's leaving me hanging. She won't even meet my gaze, which hurts more than anything else.
God have I wanted to change something, to change everything, since I walked through the door two days ago and the whole world exploded around us into tiny shards of glass than I can't seem to stop stepping on.
"Carly…" She lets out in a slow whimper, followed by a shaky exhale.
"No, Sam," I'm protesting, hopping to my feet and finally daring to approach her. "Its okay. I was… just kidding."
She's crying though, tears escaping her tightly shut eyes, and she turns her face away from mine. I want so badly to hold her, but I don't. I'm too scared of being rejected right now.
"Carly…" She says again, this time with a little more strength, and finally peels open those beautiful eyes to look at me. "I don't know what you want me to say."
"You don't have to say anything." I soothe. "I didn't mean to say anything."
"Well, that just makes it all better." She shrieks and rolls her eyes at me.
I shrink back as if she'd slapped me, feeling everything but the mark on my cheek. She should have slapped me. It would hurt less. "Its not a big deal." I mutter.
"Not a big deal?" She yells, her voice rising several octaves. "Carly, you told me you're fucking in love with me!"
"I don't think I said fucking." I mumble, but the glare she sends me cuts off my sarcastic train of thought.
"How could you not think this is a big deal?" she continues, with pleading eyes now. "You're marrying Freddie. We were supposed to go pick out your dress today. How could you think this was a good time?"
I stare at her because I don't have any answers and I never did. Grasping for something to say in response, I stumble over words that were never mine, but they don't change the fact I told her I was in love with her two days ago. Nothing can ever change that.
"I'm going to have to kill you." I say abruptly.
She lowers her eyebrows at me. "What?"
"It's the only way. If I don't, you will never let me stop thinking about this and Freddie will eventually find out. I have to kill you."
"Carly," She stutters, "You can't be serious."
I sigh and slouch against the wall. "No, but it would certainly save me from an explanation."
"Until you had to explain my death to the cops."
"Right. I guess I would have to kill them too."
She smacks my arm. "Stop being so gloomy, I'm the pissed off one here."
"I'm sorry, okay?" I exclaim loudly at her, throwing my hands into the air. "I can't take it back! Spencer hasn't finished his time machine yet, so I can't go back and like knock myself out so I couldn't tell you in the first place!" I show the knocking out of myself using the Hilary Clinton mask.
She licks her lips slowly, studying me. "Well, someone's being a little overdramatic today with the killing and the abuse to my mask."
"I'm sorry!" I apologize yet again, dropping Hilary back to the floor. "I don't know what I want you to say! And I don't know what you're expecting me to do!"
She breathes out slow, like she had just taken a drag on a cigarette. "I don't think we should really be talking about this at all, actually. You're marrying Freddie in a couple of months. What's it going to change?"
My eyes widen involuntarily. "Wait, wait, wait. So if I wasn't marrying Freddie you wouldn't be rejecting me?"
She shrugs a shoulder. "I don't know. But you are marrying Freddie, so there really isn't anything to think about."
"I don't have to marry Freddie." I blurt suddenly.
"Don't be a douche. That kid's been waiting to be with you for like ten years."
"I'm only eighteen, I'm not really ready to get married anyway."
"Than you shouldn't have agreed."
"But if it was over…"
"Carly!" She rolls her eyes. "Stop it. You're going to marry Freddie in a few months, regardless of what's happened the last couple of days. I'm not going to be the reason you break his heart."
"Sam."
"No," She glares. "I won't. Besides, I've uh… I've decided to go work for my uncle after all."
"The one in Europe? He's counterfeiting Euros!"
She giggles. "That's a very small part of the business. Besides, its in my blood." She stands, all dainty and beautiful with her brilliant blue eyes and flowing curls, shrugging. "I'm leaving in two weeks. I didn't know how to tell you before but, but now it feels right. You marry Freddie. You attend college. I'm going to go do what I do best."
X
It's the last time Sam is spending the night with me. I never thought this day would come; I just always assumed we would be together forever. You know, the whole BFF thing.
Our fingers laced together several hours earlier and instead of paying attention to the five hour version of Pride and Prejudice, we are just staring at each other like when she leaves I won't be able to remember what she looks like and vice versa. But I could never forget.
I let my free hand shove her thick curls out of her face and than trace the line of her jaw, watching the light from the television flicker in her eyes and dilate her pupils when it disappears. Honestly, I can't remember a more intense night in my whole life. But I can't think about the past or the future or anything at all because she's leaving and flying into London tomorrow and then my life will be over. At least, that pretty much covers the feeling of werewolf claws playing Operation with my body.
"Please don't leave me, Sam." I mumble.
It's already passed midnight, the moon peaking in through the top of my shades and throwing off the flicker of light in my room. She blinks slowly, tightening her grip on our joined hands and scooting closer to me. Her hand splays across my hip and she glances down at the exposed skin there.
"You know I can't stay." She says after several minutes.
The panic rises in my chest. "I can take it back. I'll fall in love with Freddie. I'll change how I feel about you."
She smiles sadly. "But I can't change how I feel about you. And this can't happen. You know it."
Her lips press to mine softly through my tears. It's the first and last time I'll ever get to experience her taste. Every second of the kiss implants in my brain. Her tongue slides along my bottom lip and I open up to it immediately.
The next thing I know, its morning and she's getting up to have a shower.
XX
The airport is loud and busy with people rushing in every direction and hugs being distributed to rediscovered loved ones. Sam stands in front of me with the scarf I gave her for Christmas swilled around her neck and a flowing, checkered trench draped over her shoulders. Her hands are folded and fidgeting in a nervous tick, but her cheeks are filled with color and her eyes are smiling.
"I guess this is goodbye," she states in a clear, loud voice. "For now, at least. I'm sorry I won't make it to the wedding."
Freddie pats her shoulder and smiles. "We understand." And puts his arm around me.
I feel so broken that all my insides have gone numb along with my toes. I'm trying desperately to think of pretty things to say that might convince her to stay, but I can't think of anything. My brain, being one of my insides, has also shut down.
She's hugging me like our friendship is ending from the rest of America and the Atlantic Ocean stretching between us.
The rest of America and the Atlantic Ocean will be stretching between us.
The tears flow fast and hard, causing me to take heavy racking sobs. The sounds coming out of my mouth are only comparable to those of women in labor. I hold onto her with all the strength left in my body and moisten the blonde hair pressing into my eyes.
"Don't leave me Sam." I whisper in her ear and I feel her shake.
She kisses my cheek and then leans forward to my ear to say, "I'm in love with you too."
Freddie leads me out with an arm around my shoulders after her plane takes off.
XXX
Being married to Freddie is an awful lot like living with Spencer, except Freddie wants me to put out. He's eccentric and driven to try and fix everything in the worn out little house we bought. Even the stuff that isn't broken. Besides that, he's a decent husband; loving, warm, comforting, and I can only see him as a friend I love, but no more.
We both work full time around school, living in Seattle is expensive, so it's easy for me to get out of screwing my husband. Its not that Freddie is unappealing, he grew into a very attractive man, but every time he tries to make love to me, I picture her. I always picture her. I still taste her on my lips and tongue and this whole arrangement is killing me.
"Are you sure I have doctor-patient confidentiality?"
"Carly, I'm your friend, not your therapist." Sarah has bright red hair and chocolate brown eyes. I literally ran into her on my first day at UW, and she had given me shit for it, than decided she liked me.
I sigh heavily. "Yeah, yeah."
"Freddie again? He seems cool to me." Sarah shrugs.
I snort. Sam would never have described Freddie as 'cool.' "Its not Freddie. Its me."
"Hey, we aren't together. You don't have to use that line on me." She winks at me and I give her a feeble grin.
"That's actually the truth. Freddie is great. I just…" I shrug off the end of the sentence like that explains everything.
"You just?" Sarah prompts, voiding my shrug.
"I just wish I hadn't…" I trail off again. Finishing sentences doesn't seem to be one of my strong suits.
The autumn air is crisp and cold against my bare arms. The trees around campus have already shed the majority of their leaves, leaving themselves naked and exposed to the rain that usually attacks their flesh this time of year. Today the sun is out, but it looks smaller in the frigid, cloudless sky. Dull grey.
"Maybe you should talk to Freddie." Sarah voice echoes off to the left, bringing me back to my body. "I mean, he loves you so much. He'd want to know if you were unhappy."
"I'm not unhappy." I snap.
The wind is beginning to pick up and the first raindrop in my sight plops onto the bench next to me. It's three-thirty in the afternoon. Life feels like it's at a standstill in this time and space, like life can't move forward in my head. For one frozen moment, I see the flicker of blue eyes and blonde hair coming down the steps, but its just some other girl. It's not her. I realize the hair doesn't have quite so many reflective shades in the dulling sun and her eyes lack the spice that Sam's have.
"I'm unhappy."
XXXX
"Hey cupcake."
Hearing her voice over the telephone, even though it's two in the morning, brings all the blood flowing instantly to my head and makes me dizzy. I'm standing in my living room in an oversized t-shirt with my hair sticking out in every direction, but I'm awake and poised on her every word.
"Sam!" I exclaim with a girlish giggle. "It's been so long! How are you? How's London?"
"Whoa, slow down there, kiddo." I can feel her smile through the phone. "I'm fine. Umm, I'm not in London anymore. But let's not talk about me. This is an expensive-ass call. I want to hear all about Carly Shay."
"There's nothing to hear." I spit out sporadically. "I'm still in Seattle. I'm still in school. Still married to Freddie. Tell me about your exciting life."
She ignores my questions. "How is Freddie?"
"Freddie's… good. I think we're both a little exhausted most of the time with school and work."
"You haven't found me a replacement, have you?"
My brain temporarily flickers to Sarah, but I know she could never take Sam's place. "No. No, I'll never find another person I love as much as you." I had meant for my words to sound light-hearted, but now they weighed down on my shoulders and my tear ducts and forced me to slouch and cry.
"Carly…" I can hear the regret in her voice and I wipe hastily at the tears.
"No, I'm fine. I'm just running on a major lack of sleep."
"Carly."
"What?"
"I love you, too."
"Yeah, yeah. I know." I mutter and all but punch myself in the face to get rid of the evidence of my breakdown.
She sighs heavily into the phone. "I know this is hard, but you should try to make things work with Freddie. I'm not worth waiting for."
"Yes you are." The words are out before I can stop myself. "I'm uh… I'm yours. That's all there is to it."
"I'm not breaking up your marriage. Besides I… I met somebody."
My heart jumps into my throat before plummeting to the floor. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. He's sweet and has the sexiest accent. We've been together for a couple months now."
My tears dry up immediately as if her words were some kind of magic trick. "I don't think I can ever get over you, but you are able to move on so easily after a couple months?"
"Carly… You're married. Don't make me feel guilty about trying to move on."
"You're the one who told me to marry Freddie even after I admitted how I felt!" I try to calm down because Freddie is sleeping in the other room and if nothing else, he doesn't need to know any of this.
"I know." She sighs again. "I really think this is for the best. I have to go, though. I barely have enough money left to pay for another call to my mom. I'll try and call in a couple of weeks. Until then, I love you."
"I wish I could stop loving you."
I hear the phone click off on the other end and melt to the floor. In a moment of extreme anguish, I rip the phone cord out of the wall and launch the whole damn thing out of the room.
XXXXX
His lips press to mine with love and need and desperation and I try to respond, but it's all I can do not to turn my head. Sam's phone call plays over and over in my head like a broken record and I can't block it out.
Freddie's hands are busy ridding me of my clothes, but my head is so far gone I hardly notice. It's when he's naked on top of me with his one hand sliding down my stomach and one hand cupping my left breast that he stops.
"Where are you?" He questions in a whisper like someone might hear us.
I force myself to smile up at him. "I'm here with you."
He shakes his head. "No you're not. Even though this is the first time we'll have had sex in a week, you look like you're in Iceland."
I frown at him and giggle. "Why Iceland?"
He shrugs. "It was the first place to pop into my head."
"Well, stop thinking about that. I'm here with you." I say again, leaning up to capture his lips in another kiss.
Its not like he's a bad kisser or anything. He realizes that putting his whole tongue in my mouth doesn't feel good and that lips are meant to be caressed and not chewed. But it's still not the feeling I'm looking for. It's not the burn or the racing in my heart that I got from Sam.
He pulls back again. "Carly, are you unhappy?"
I raise my eyebrows at him. "What? Why would I be unhappy?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. You've just seemed really upset the last few days."
"Oh… I heard from Sam." I admit.
"Really? How is she?"
"She's good." I nod. "I just miss her a lot. The phone call reminded me how much."
He hugs me to him. "I know how you feel."
"You miss Sam?" I grin up at him.
He chuckles. "In a twisted sort of way, yeah. But I'm glad it's her gone and not you. I think I would go crazy without you." He kisses my neck.
I nod and roll onto my side. When he enters me, I feel all the love he has for me, and all the love I had wanted to give to Sam. And then there's an emptiness that I can't seem to escape. The moon highlights the muscular rise and fall of his shoulders over me. He holds me close and whispers my name in my ear when he reaches the final edge.
I can't stop myself from wishing he were Sam.
XXXXXX
"Freddie looked happy this morning." Sarah mentions over my charred wooden kitchen table as I pour myself a fourth cup of coffee.
"Yeah." I agree with a nod.
"So I'm guessing you had sex last night."
"Yeah."
"How are you able to be so open and cryptic all at the same time?"
I smile at her and set down my cup. It's nearly eleven in the morning on my only day off of the week. I really didn't feel like having this conversation, but I probably couldn't put it off any longer.
"It's a gift, I guess." I shrug.
My dining room connects directly to the kitchen. They both look like they spilled out of Good Will. My table is old, fake wood, and burned beyond all repair like it was in a fire before it came to stay with me. The chairs are mismatched blue and green. The kitchen has a hole in the wall above the counter to the left of the stove. The wallpaper is covered with cows. Some of them are part of the print, the rest drawn on by young hands. The dining room is cluttered with old newspapers, mail, homework, and sculptures Spencer gave us. The cabinets are filled with nice silverware and dishes that we got as wedding presents.
"Why did you marry Freddie if he doesn't make you happy?" Sarah questions, breaking me out of my reverie. She's good at that.
I shrug again. "He doesn't make me unhappy." I decide to tell her the truth. "He just isn't the one I want to be with."
Sarah leans forward like I'm giving her some really juicy gossip she can spread all over school. "Who do you want to be with?"
"You, of course." I roll my eyes and sip my coffee.
"Come on, Carly. Open up a little. Tell me about your deepest, darkest desires." She pokes my arm for added effect.
I shove her hand away. "Let's not talk about me. Let's talk about you instead."
The phone rings just as she opens her mouth to reply. I answer it with as much inflection in my voice as I can manage.
"Carly?"
My heart stops. "Sam?"
"Hey sweetie. I uh… I felt really bad about the last phone call."
I lean against the wall to maintain my balance. "Well… this is an improvement. It hasn't even been a week."
"Carly, let's not do pleasantries, I wanted to apologize."
"I've got company right now." I glance around the corner at Sarah, who looks like she's straining her ears to catch every word.
"Can't you go into another room for me? I'm calling really long distance."
I shut my bedroom door silently and slide down to lean against my bed. The bed I let Freddie make love to me in last night. And now I was using it as support to talk to the person I had been thinking about the whole time. How twisted is that?
"Okay, I'm alone now." I whisper into the phone.
She exhales loudly on the other end. "Carly I… I wanted you to be with Freddie because he can make you so much happier than I'd ever be able to."
"Sam, you've always made me happy."
"Yeah, when we were kids and you didn't have to rely on me for anything." She grumbles. "You have no idea what it would be like if we tried to be more than friends."
"Neither do you."
"Carly, please. Don't make this harder than it has to be."
I switch the phone to my other ear. "I'm making this harder? I tell you how I feel and you flee to another continent! You're the one who's being difficult."
"Because I feel the same way!" She yells into the phone and I pull back stunned.
"Sam?"
"Carly… You couldn't be that unhappy with Freddie." It isn't a question.
"I'm miserable with or without him." I admit quietly.
I hear her shift. "I can't even take care of myself, what makes you think I can take care of you?"
"I don't need you to take care of me. I just need you to be with me." I trace the doorknob with my eyes. "I can still feel your lips on mine. I can still taste you. It's killing me, Sam."
"Carly… My break's over, I gotta get back to work. I'll call you soon."
"Sure."
"I love you."
"Prove it."
The line goes dead.
XXXXXXX
Spencer and his wife, Gabrielle, and their two-year-old son, Braden, are over for dinner. It's nice because I don't have to force myself to make small talk with Freddie. Gabrielle is a tall brunette with a big smile and a teaching degree. Spencer is the same as always and Braden is just like him.
"How's work?" Freddie asks Spencer, pointing at him with his fork.
Spencer nods. "Good, good. I created a new sculpture today. I call it 'Baby A La Mode'."
"Sounds cool." I throw out there, just to show I'm participating.
"It is, actually. Its made entirely out of jello and fish tanks."
Gabrielle grins proudly at him. "Someone has already made an offer to buy it." Gabrielle was Spencer's agent before they got married. She leans over and kisses him. "You're so talented."
"Its all thanks to Braden. He's my muse." He ruffles his son's hair.
"So, when are you two going to start trying for a baby?" Gabrielle asks and that's how the whole evening went from decent to shit.
Freddie and I make eye contact over the stack of dinner rolls. I'm glad he looks as scared as I do. He clears his throat and looks over at her. "Well, we haven't really talked about it. I guess we would like to finish school and stuff first."
I beam at him. "Yeah, now isn't a really convenient time to bring another life into the world."
"Yeah," Spencer swallows hard. "You should keep your hands off my little sister."
Gabrielle smacks his arm. "There's never truly a convenient time for kids. They throw your life off balance no matter when you decide to have them. I think Braden would love a cousin to play with."
Braden plays with his mashed potatoes and makes duck noises.
Freddie bounces his eyes back and forth between Gabrielle and me. "Yeah, but with us both working and going to school full time, we don't really have time to give a child the attention it deserves."
I hold his hand because I've never been happier with him and bob my head enthusiastically.
Gabrielle and Spencer nod into their food, probably forgetting what we were talking about immediately. But long after they went home, Freddie remembered.
After we finished cleaning up for dinner and shutting down the house for the night, he corners me with a cup of tea in the living room.
"So about this baby thing." He says as his opening line, and I just stare at him all wide-eyed and suspicious.
"What about it?"
He shrugs. "I don't know, I just think maybe we should talk about it a little. I mean, we've never really talked about kids at all. Do you want any? How many? That kind of thing."
"Well I, I haven't really thought too much about it. I mean, we're only eighteen." I shrug.
"I know, but it would be nice to have a plan for the future, wouldn't it?"
I nod, but I wish I would stop. I'm agreeing to things I don't agree with. At all.
"I want kids." He says after a moment of reflective silence. "Two or three. With your pretty face and my computer genius. Attractive nerds."
I chuckle with him. "You're attractive, Freddie."
He studies his bare feet. "Attractive. I wish you hadn't said that." He stands and heads for the bedroom.
I jump up too. "What did I say?"
His face is contorted with anger when he looks back at me. "Oh, I don't know! It just kind of makes someone feel like shit when their spouse only views them as attractive! You could have said handsome! Sexy! Cute! Whatever! Attractive is just so…" He sighs and lowers his voice. "Generic."
"I didn't mean it like that." I mutter.
"I know. But its how you feel, isn't it?"
He goes off to bed, closing the bedroom door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my tears and my nothingness.
XXXXXXXX
This time when the phone rings at three in the morning, I'm ready to talk to her. I slept on the couch, not having the guts to go into my room and face Freddie, so I was right there too, to answer on the first ring.
"Speak." I say.
"Hello to you too." Sam replies, a smile in her tone.
"It's been like three weeks since you last called, busy schedule?"
"I didn't know what to say." She admits. Sam's usually an honest person when it comes to me.
I bite my lip. "We have to stop arguing over the phone. It's beginning to feel ridiculous."
"I know what you mean."
A moment of silence passes. "So Freddie is mad at me."
"What happened?" She asks with genuine concern.
"He thinks I'm not attracted to him."
"So why didn't you tell him you are attracted to him?"
"Because it's the truth. I'm not attracted to him, never have been."
"So why didn't you lie to him?"
"Because I can't lie to him."
"Tell him a different truth?"
"No, Sam. Honestly, telling him that instead of 'Sorry, I can't be attracted to you because I'm in love with Sam' was the best I could do."
She falls silent. "I wish you'd stop reminding me of that."
"Why? I have to stare it in the face every day, you should suffer a little too."
"Carly, I am suffering. It's uh…" She pauses. "It's getting harder not to come to you with every call."
I sit up quickly and smack my hand into the corner of the desk, but I ignore the pain. "Then come."
"You know I can't do that. This job has been really good to me. I've gotten to see a lot of Europe and I think I've grown up some."
"Than I'll come to you." My voice is filled with desperation, but I don't even try to keep it out.
"Carly…"
"Fine, fine." I sound pissy even to my own ears. "Keep me stuck like this. Keep me miserable. Removing yourself from me is helping my happiness so much just like you thought it would."
She's silent for a couple minutes, and I just sit there fuming. "I had a dream about you last night." She finally says.
"Yeah?" My voice is wary from exhaustion. I'm running out of fuel.
"Yeah." She sighs. "I was making love to you in the iCarly studio."
I feel a tug low in my stomach. "Go on."
"Then Freddie walked in and he… he just stared at me. He started crying and asking me why." Her voice breaks.
"You're lying."
"I'm not. I dream about making love to you all the time."
"Then come do it. Come make love to me."
"But then Freddie always shows up and sometimes Spencer and sometimes my mom and sometimes even Mrs. Benson, and they are all just bawling. And asking me why." She inhales deeply.
"Let me get this straight, you dream about people walking in on us having sex?"
She giggles, but stops abruptly. "I dream about us being more than we are, and all of the people it would hurt."
"Sometimes we have to make our own happiness, regardless of others."
The phone goes dead on the line.
XXXXXXXXX
My days feel like they are just getting longer and longer. I went to work, went to school, went to work, and now I'm finally coming home at eleven-thirty at night. I stretch my arms out, feeling the pull of my back muscles under my shirt and even under my skin. My coat lifts up and lets a blast of cold air scald my back.
My house is dark, Freddie probably already in bed. I set down my bag next to the door before heading into the kitchen. I down a glass of water and half of another before I feel sated. Lights flick on in the living room and Freddie comes stumbling out in his pajama pants and bare chest.
He smiles when he spot me and strolls on over, kissing me on the lips. "You're finally home."
I nod. "Longest day of my life."
"Yeah. Sam called for you a couple hours ago."
My stomach muscles pulled up sharply. "What?"
"Yeah. She said she's coming back for a while. To come pick her up from the airport Friday morning."
"She's coming back?" I screech at him.
He laughs. "I knew you'd be excited. You coming to bed?"
"I'll be there soon." I dismiss with a wave of my hand.
He drains the rest of my water. "Goodnight, then."
I sit on the couch in the dark, staring at the phone, daring it to ring.
"She's coming back."