The dork in his natural habitat is about the most compelling thing I've ever seen. He's happiest sitting on a couch, fiddling with his phone, text messaging. Sometimes I hope he'll text me. But he only sends texts of strong dislike.
"Is it possible for you to take that thing out of your hands?" I snapped.
"Is it possible for you to stop nagging my every move?" he shot.
"Oh, c'mon, Benson! You're so cliché."
"I am not cliché!"
"See! There you go again! You're so predictable. What are you going to say next? Oh, I know. Am not!"
Freddie opened his mouth to shout, "Am not", but stopped as soon as he saw my famous victory grin. Oh yeah, Mama was good at all fighting.
His phone buzzed, and he ignored my eye roll. I watched him curiously as he read the text, grinning like a little kid with an ice cream cone, preferably Superman because it made him feel powerful. One time he mentioned that, but I don't know why I kept it in my memory.
"Alex!" he cried happily, pounding his free fist in the air.
"Who's Alex?" Carly asked, shutting the refrigerator door and taking out a can of Wahoo Punch.
See, though Carly is my best friend, for about a year I was kind of jealous of her. She's pretty and nice, and I'm just tough. Guys really liked her, and they steered clear of me. Freddie had the biggest crush on Carly for two or three years, but not long after we started ninth grade, he seemed not to be so interested anymore. That shed some light on my dump of a life. But not because I like him or anything. It's just annoying seeing him stalk her like that.
"Alex is my favorite cousin," Freddie explained. "But we haven't seen each other in four years, and we're so busy, we never text or IM or anything. But Alex is coming to Seattle, and moving to Bushwell Plaza."
"Oh, that's so cool!" Carly remarked. "Do you know what room?"
"This floor, but that's all I know right now."
"Sweet! So, do you think your cousin will like us?"
Before Freddie could answer, I cut in.
"This is Freddie's cousin we're talking about. They share blood. Therefore, Alex will be a dork just like Freddie, and you two will get along perfectly. I, on the other hand, will more than likely hate him."
"Sam, Alex is not a dork," Freddie protested. "And I should mention, Alex is…"
Just to be irritating, Freddie's mom barged into Carly's apartment, a tube of some ointment clutched in one of her hands. Mrs. Benson was the worst part about knowing Freddie. If she were subtler, he'd be a lot more tolerable. Well, he was (and I hated to admit it) getting there. But that's a different story that I don't know if I'll ever tell.
Anyway, Freddie's mom is honestly a lunatic. She makes him take tick baths, wear cloud block (yes ladies and gentlemen, cloud block), and picks out the dorkiest clothes. I've heard of overprotective, helicopter parents in journalist magazines, but Mrs. Benson is by far the worst. Can't imagine what she'd do to a grandkid.
"Freddie, sweetie," she called to him in this horrific, singsong voice. "You forgot your ointment again."
He shot me a painful, humiliated look and screeched, "Mom, that stopped itching, too!"
"Just what seems to be giving you the problem, Freddo?" I tested.
Freddie's shoulders slumped ("Bad for your back!" Mrs. Benson shouted at this), and he bit his bottom lip, knowing exactly what I was saying. Unfortunately, so did Mrs. Benson.
"You just mind your own business, Sam," she sneered. "It doesn't concern you which of my son's body parts he's unable to use right now!"
Gosh. How did she manage to keep up with these things? I've looked at Freddie's computer history- strictly nerd stuff.
"Mom, Alex just texted me," he said. "And it looks like we're going to have family in our building!"
Mrs. Benson grinned and gushed, "That's great! Alex must have grown up so much in the past few years."
She looked at Carly and me and added, "You'll just adore Alex, trust me."
"Yeah, you can never been a hundred percent sure of anything," I reminded her.
Anyone who was related to Freddork Benson was sure to make me wild. Take a look at his mother. And take a good, long look at him. Meeting his cousin would probably make me so crazy, I'd be sent to jail for committing murder.
"I've been trying to explain to Sam that Alex is…" Freddie started
"Not a dork, I know. Sam will just have to wait and see."
"That's not…"
"Believable for her, I know. But Alex is so wonderful, it doesn't really matter what Sam thinks."
Great. I could easily see Mrs. Benson keeping that attitude toward me for the rest of her life, and that wouldn't boil over well if…
"Just forget it!" Freddie shouted.
I watched attentively as Mrs. Benson's face turned from a silly grin to a disappointed frown. If there was anything that I loved more than making Fredward mad, it was when he made his mother mad.
"Freddie, we are leaving!" she cried and pulled him by the ear. "I knew those sarcastic girls were bound to rub off on you!"
She dragged him out of the apartment, and he dropped his phone on the ground. Watching him kick to get back in was hilarious. I guess Mrs. Benson has game when wrestling in addition to fencing.
"Mom, I have to stay! Sam still doesn't know!" Freddie screamed over and over.
I still didn't know. My dreams weren't coming true, but if they were, Freddie would be telling me something amazing. But since I knew that wasn't it (not now, at least), I barely cared about what he wanted me to know.
"Well, you'll just have to tell her another time!"
"Mom!"
And the Bensons' apartment door slammed shut.
****************************************
Carly eyed me slyly, giving me the impulse to snap, "What?"
"Freddie has a cousin named Alex," she said mysteriously.
"Yeah, so?"
"Maybe this results in a guy for one of us?"
"You, definitely. You get all the guys. But by all means, go for this one. No competition."
But she didn't know why.
"Sam, guys like you too," Carly contradicted in such a female manner. "I know of one."
"Neither Jonah nor Girly Cow count."
"I wasn't talking about either of them. And Girly Cow is male?"
"Who really cares?"
"The executives at Girly Cow!"
"I don't know them, so here I am, not caring. Who likes me?"
She had to be lying. Carls is a good friend, and sometimes being a good friend means lying for the sake of your friend. Guys didn't like me. It was something I inherited from my mom. But I might as well let Carly play this game for a while until I gained confidence in the fact that I was never going to get a guy. Especially not the one I wanted.
"It will come to you, I promise," she told me. "You'd have to be blind and deaf not to see it. Now, who's to say before you see eye to eye with your dream man, you can't look a little cute for this Alex?"
I grinned weakly, hoping that my wish as to who like me was true. Though, that would just be unbelievable, and I'd wake up quickly after.
"You're right," I sighed. "I can look good for someone, even if he is related to Freddie. But I don't have to become a daffodil again, right?"
Shuddering, I remembered when I said I wanted to be more like a girl. Carly dressed me up in pink, straightened my hair (which left it close to being damaged), and I couldn't fight or eat burgers or do anything I like to do. And for what? So I could go out with this guy named Pete. Sure, I liked him then, but once we had dinner on his uncle's boat, I realized he wasn't for me. I told him that I wasn't feeling anything, and he was insightful enough to figure out why. So, when I left him, I felt hopeful and hopeless at the same time.
Carly chuckled at my question and shook her head no.
"You can just be Sam," she told me. "I think a real man would like you as yourself. And remember, one already does!"
"Whatever. Just as long as I can be me, boxers and all."
She playfully rolled her eyes, and I got up off the couch and grabbed Freddie's phone off the floor. When I saw him, I'd give it back to him. Suddenly, it vibrated, showing that the dork had received a new text message. So, I opened it.
Freddie, I'm moving in on the eleventh. Not too far away, ha! And if you want to talk about that girl, text me back soon. – Alex
That girl? Hmm. Was Carly…
Nah.