Called You By Name
"It really is weird, you know," Sam said suddenly, breaking the silence of the almost-deserted library.
Freddi didn't even look up from her homework. "We've been through this before, Sam. You have say the beginning of your ideas out loud, not just the ending."
Sam just waved his hand at her, dismissing such unimportant matters. "Your name. Freddi. Your parents gave you a boy's name. I think that's weird."
This time she did glance up from her homework - to glare at him. "That accusation of weirdness is pretty ironic coming from the guy with the blue skin, you know," she said dryly.
Sam shrugged. "Maybe. But seriously, why'd they name you that?"
"Does it even matter?"
"I'm not going to be able to get anything else done until I know, so yes, it matters!"
Her pencil fell to the table as she buried her face in her hands. Sam was her best friend, and she loved him, she really did - but... he just couldn't let anything go.
When she looked up, he was still gazing expectantly at her, leaning his chair back so that it was on two legs and absently twirling his pencil.
"Well," she said slowly, "It's not legally my name."
That surprised him. Letting his chair fall back on all of its legs with a *thwump*, he just blinked at her. "What?"
"It's not legally my name," she repeated patiently.
"I heard you," Sam said. "Just - what? Why?"
"Well, I've never really liked my name, so when I was about 6 I announced to my parents that I wasn't going to use it anymore. And since Luther had been in the habit of calling me Fedy at the time..." She shrugged. "I just adapted it."
Sam thought about this for a moment. "So... what is your real name?"
Her eyes back on her paper, Freddi shrugged again. "It's really not important, Sam."
"Freeeeeddddi..."
"Saaaammm."
"Come on, tell me!"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"No."
"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"
"Are you going to stop any time soon?"
"No." He said bluntly.
She looked back up to glare at him for a moment. "Fine. It's Frieda."
There's a moment of silence. Then...
"Frieda? Really?" Sam sat back in his chair, looking a little bemused. "Huh. That... really doesn't fit you."
"...No, I decided to use a nickname for the last decade because my birth name fit me perfectly," Freddi said sarcastically. "Of course it doesn't, Sam!"
He raised his hands. "Alright, alright, you don't have to blow up at me. Still. Frieda. Like the girl from Peanuts?
A sigh. "Yes, Sam."
"The one who's always wearing a fancy dress."
"Yes..."
"The one who's always talking about her 'naturally curly hair."
"...Yes..."
"In short, the most girly-girl ever."
Freddi narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you getting at, Sam?"
He grinned broadly. "I'm just thinking about how many people we know who'd enjoy a compare and contrast between the two of you."
"If you tell anyone about this, I'll, I'll -"
"Wave your fist at me?" He suggested cheerfully.
"I'll tell our whole class about your stuffed animal collection. And about the fact that you still play with dolls." Freddi threatened.
"They're not dolls! They're action figures! Pajama Man action figures! With titanic elbow thrusts!" He protested.
"And which argument would catch on quicker with the gossipers?" She asked sweetly.
He folded his arms over his chest, pouting. "...Yours."
"So what does that tell you?"
"That I should drop the thing with your name?"
"Good answer," she said smugly.
"...when there are witnesses around."
"Sam!"
"What?"
"Just - ugh." He easily ducked her flung pencil, laughing.
Freddi groaned, putting her head on the smooth wood of the table. Note to self, she thought. Find something else for Sam to obsess over. Soon. Or he's not going to let go of this for days. She snuck a glance at her far-to-amused best friend. ...make that weeks. Or months.
I'm doomed, aren't I?
A/N: Silly Freddi... if you hadn't made such a big deal about it being a secret, Sam wouldn't feel such a strong urge to tease you about it :)
...Well, probably.
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