Strawberries. whipped cream. Gibby?!
Sam shivered that was one mental picture that Sam could have gone her whole life (and afterlife) without. At least now she knew that Gibby didn't turn her down because she wasn't pretty, or funny, or awesome. Cause she was totally all of those things. Totally.
She reassured herself that she could get any boy she wanted, except for Gibby (not that she'd ever want him or anything). She could get Jake Crandle, or that Nate guy, or even Freddie. Yeah, if she wanted to she could get the one guy on the planet who would rather spend 72 hours with his mother watching a marathon of 'Why Doesn't My Son Love Me Enough?' on the Woman's Channel than go to an MMA fight with her. She sighed Yeah right.
Not that she cared about any of that, she was Sam Puckete. She was able to take down Ricky Flame (twice and in two totally unrelated challenges). She was on a super popular web show. She was... still standing on Gibby's porch. In an outfit she hated. While a few blocks away her best friend was having a great time with a guy she helped her find.
She decided that she'd better leave Gibby's house before he sent his mom out to make her leave. She wasn't opposed to breaking Gibby's thumbs, but his mom was too nice to hurt. Sam hated that about her. She made her way to the porch steps and looked back at Gibby's house, "Thanks for breaking my spirit kid" she muttered before walking off the porch and out on to the sidewalk.
If she wanted to it would be easy to catch a bus and go to the dance, or home, or to Carly's. Well pretty much anywhere but here, but she didn't want to go to the dance dateless, or home to her mother, or have to hang out with Spencer at Carly's (not that she didn't like Spencer, but sometimes he could just be a little much). So instead she just kept on walking, she had a good thirty minutes to kill until Carly would be home and at least then she could go to Carly's apartment and just pretend that she had been at home all night.
Even if she wasn't good at getting boys to like her at least she was good at some things. Even if those things were lying, eating, and hitting at least she was good at them. She was also good at making people hate her, but that wasn't something she was going to add to her list of skills.
She felt sad. It was the only emotion that she could think of that would describe how she felt. In all reality she hadn't been this sad since that evil witch of a girl, Missy, poisoned her with bad chocolate and stole her spot in iCarly. Yeah, she was still a little bitter about the whole friend-stealing thing, but holding grudges was Sam's thing. She stopped walking and looked around, great she hadn't been paying attention for the last ten minutes and now look where she was, somewhere in the middle of Gibby's subdivision. Just Great.
She decided it was time to give up this walking thing, because she was 1.) lost in suburbia, 2.) her feet hurt, and 3.) she needed a smoothie and ham to make her feel better. She pulled her phone out of the bag she was holding and dialed the number she knew by heart.
"Hey Kyle, send a cab over to.." She paused and looked towards the closest street sign, "Davidson Drive and Annie Avenue. Make it snappy." Kyle, the man who owned 'Seattle Services', told her a cab would be there in a few minutes, because he knew better than anyone that you do not make a Puckete wait.
It took ten minutes for the bright yellow cab, driven tonight by a Tony Soprano look-alike, to pull up to the corner. Sam slid herself into the backseat, sliding her shoes off in the process. The man looked at her in his rear view mirror, she sat there and started back at him.
"Where to miss?" he asked, she expected him to know that where she would want to go, seeing as how she only took a cab to two places. School and Carly's.
"The Groovy Smoothie." She said, throwing her legs up on the seat, "and be sure to put it on my mom's tag."
"What's your mom's name?" He asked as he pulled off from the curb, and started on the fifteen-minute drive to The Groovy Smoothie.
"Mrs. Puckete." Sam said. God, didn't everyone know who her mother was? She groaned quietly, and stayed silent the rest of the ride.
By the time she reached The Groovy Smoothie she had coached herself into a good mood by thinking of how terrible Fredlumps date had gone. Magic Malika had probably singed off his eyebrows or worse. Mr. Tony Soprano look-alike dropped her off a few feet down from The Groovy Smoothie entrance. She slipped her shoes on, told him to give himself a tip, and got out.
She made her way towards her favorite hangout, Carly would be home soon, Fredward would have no eyebrows, and she would have a Strawberry Splat smoothie. Delicious. She opened the door to The Groovy Smoothie to hear a slow song had been turned up. She rolled her eyes, what shenanigans were afoot? She looked towards the couple that had decided to make her favorite hangout their own personal dance floor. She was about to yell 'get a room' as she would with every lovey-dovey couple until she saw who it was.
Freddie. Carly. Dancing. Together?
This was another mental picture she could have gone forever without, only this wasn't in her mind. It was real. It was in front of her. It surprisingly threw her back into her previous state of sadness. She left as quietly as she had entered, paused for only a second outside to look back at the pure bliss of Freddork's face. He was way happier dancing with Carly than he was kissing her.
Not that she cared or anything.
She caught the next bus that would go to her house, she spent the ten minute bus ride near a hobo she was pretty had recently bathed in meat and dog food. She could have moved away from him, but instead she just stayed there, because she would rather sit next to a dirty, smelly hobo than have to sit alone and think about why she was so sad about this Carly and Freddie thing. She pulled the string and the bus stopped at the nearest corner; she got up and got off the bus.
It took her two minutes to walk home. She sang her favorite Cuddlefish song. She didn't think about her night.
She opened her door, not needing to carry a key. Even if her front door could lock it never would be locked. Upon opening the door she was confronted with a fern leaf that had been bent and now hung in front of the door. She thrashed at it until her mother came out of the living room to make sure an animal hadn't found it's way inside.
"Sam, please don't kill my only good fern."
"It's fake mom. I couldn't kill it even if I wanted to." Sam said as she pushed the fern leaf out of the way and slammed the door.
"So I take it the dance didn't go well." Her mother was trying to be Miss Compassionate, and it wasn't working.
"No mom, it went just fantastic." With that Sam kicked off her shoes, dropped her jacket and bag, and proceeded into her bedroom.
"Night sweetie." Her mom called after her, Sam didn't reply. Instead she threw herself onto her bed and hoped to fall asleep before she had to think about anything that had happened that night.