(Freddie)
It's true, what they say. "You don't know what you have until it's gone." Since the incident at Brush Prairie four years ago, I've buried myself in ways to hide the guilt. Because, let's face it, it's my fault. I could have said no. In fact, I WANTED to say no. I knew it was a bad idea, and I should have gone with my instincts. Nobody knows the truth; not Carly, not Spencer, not Gibby, not my mom. The only person who knows is Sam, and I know there's no way she can tell even a single soul. But I wish she could. Because if she could, I wouldn't feel so guilty.
I'll be leaving home soon. I've decided what I want to do with my life. I don't want to be a tech producer for webshows. I don't want to be a computer progammer. I don't want to be a video game designer. In fact, I don't care if I spend the rest of my life never touching another computer again. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for what I've done. I've finished my education at the local community college, and my flight for San Francisco takes off at midnight. I don't want to leave anyone behind, but it's the only way I can redeem myself.
The only thing I can do is confess, and do whatever I can to protect the ones I love.
(Spencer)
"Spencer!" Carly yells from upstairs.
"I'm downstairs!" I yell back, feeling too full from the spaghetti tacos I had less than an hour ago. I made extras for Carly, because I know how much she loves them, and she needs to eat. But she refuses. I've already had to take her to the hospital three times in the past four years to get her stomach pumped and to get nutrition. She cries every time, but she keeps putting herself in the situation.
"Have you seen my car keys?" she asks me from the top of the stairs, now visible to me and wearing the shortest shorts I've ever seen, with a tank top she's had since she was fifteen.
"No," I lie, "but if you're planning on going somewhere dressed like that-"
"Spencer, I'm not a little kid anymore!" she screams at me. The truth is, she is an adult now, but she hasn't grown up at all. Granddad offered to take her in, but I can't abandon my sister. I don't care what the reason is, I will be the one taking care of her. I'm the one who has been there for her since she was a child, been there for her through the unimaginable times of distress. Not Grandpa. That wouldn't do a damn thing for Carly.
"Carly, I don't care how old you are," I tell her as she walks downstairs, still looking for her keys. "You're still my little sister and I don't want other boys looking at you like a sexual object."
"Spencer, are you jealous?" she unexpectedly asks.
"Carly, I'm just looking out-"
"You just want me to yourself," she declares, just moments before I catch onto her eyes shaking, red and glossy, before she collapses on me.
(Freddie)
My phone rings as I approach the airport entrance. Caller ID says it's Spencer. Again.
"Hey Spence," I answer, continuing to approach the entrance.
"Hey, where are you?"
"I just arrived at the airport, why? What's up?"
"That's today?" he asks, seemingly shocked.
"Yeah, my flight takes off in just a few hours. I'll be back over Christmas break," I tell him. I know what he wants. I would be there if I could, but I have to find a way to do more than just console Carly when she's too drugged up to even know what I'm telling her. I have to do more than just relieve Spencer of taking her to the hospital. I have to go on so I can protect them, so that what happened to Sam, doesn't happen to anybody else. Because I know if I give up now, it will.
He says goodbye and hangs up. I feel my left shoulder still stinging from last night, sharp and hot. It still hurts, but not as much. Nothing compared to the real hurt.
(Carly)
"Where's Freddie?" I ask, still groggy from all the drugs.
"You know he can't be here anymore, Carly. He's in San Francisco," Spencer reminds me. You'd think that this wouldn't be a shock to me, because he's been talking about it ever since graduation. The only person I have is Spencer, but I just can't accept it.
"Why'd you do it, Carly?" Spencer asks me, in an angry yet soft tone. He's giving up on me.
"I didn't know what else to do," I manage to say.
"Well don't get yourself killed, Carly!" he yells at me. "I don't care what happens to you, it's no excuse to nearly kill yourself on a daily basis! This is getting out of control!"
"Spencer-"
"No, let me finish."
Never in my life have I seen Spencer so angry, so unfair, so loud. I have nobody left, and now, even Spencer is growing away. Whatever he says just won't matter anymore.
"I know it's been hard," he lowers his tone and sits beside me, "but you'll never recover if you try to escape it every day. It's not going away, and you have to find a way to move on. Drugs aren't the answer."
He looks at me confused. I think he notices my eyes watering.
"I just couldn't do it!" I burst out uncontrollably.
"...Do what?" he asks.
"Griffen asked me to move in with him. I couldn't do it!" I cry, not because I care about Griffen, but because I don't. And I feel disgusted with myself because I never wanted Spencer to know how serious we were.
I was happy, for once. For the first time in several years, I felt special to someone. Important. Loved. Like I could keep going on. Except for the fact that I never loved him. I told him no, and that was it. He left.
"Why didn't you say yes?" my brother asks the question I've never heard before, as he holds my face.
"... I don't love him. Why would I want to live with someone I don't love?"
(Freddie)
"How much did you get for it?" I ask my mom, on the other line.
"More than expected, but still not alot. I wired it over to you this morning so you can get a new one," she informs me.
"New?" I question.
"Well, not new. But I looked online and there is a car dealership on 5th avenue. You can take bus 12 out there," she informs me.
"Okay, thanks Mom."
"No problem sweetie. Just let me know when you get it," she demands.
"I will."
"And don't sit in the back of the bus. Or a window seat."
"Mom!"
"If you sit back too far," she begins, "you'll get hit by a car."
"Mom!"
"If you sit near the aisle, you'll live for a while," she adds.
"Okay, I'll sit in the middle!" I assure her, ready to leave.
"I love you Freddie," she tells me.
"I love you too Mom," I respond before hanging up.
The bus ride is a long one, but when I get there, I'm relieved. Knowing I can drive home instead of catching the bus, which I hope to never have to take again. I take the keys to some old junker, a brown one, and I drive back.
My roommate must be home, because when I walk in, I hear music. Sounds like Cuddlefish. My first opportunity to make new friends. To my surprise, a girl. I don't see her face, but the loose blonde pigtails gives it away. That, and her very smooth and feminine legs in short shorts. She must be my roommate's girlfriend, but I still introduce myself out of politeness.
"Hey," I announce to her back, now frozen and still facing the wall with a hammer in her hand and nail halfway in, "just thought I'd introduce myself, since I live here now. I'm Fr-"
"Freddie!" In an instant, she turns around, screaming my name before I even say it. Her. Sam. Charging at me for no apparent reason again. Confused, I back up, screaming. But she doesn't hurt me. Instead, she clings to me tightly. And this is when it hits me. This is when I realize... she's alive?
(Carly)
The toughest twelve hours of my life comes with a complementary chicken sandwich, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, and milk. That's it. I just want to go home. When I do, I can't leave Spencer's side. Not just because he doesn't trust me, but because I can't stand be alone, let alone to stand. He's truly all I have left. For an hour, we sit in silence on the couch and flip through TV channels.
"I'm sorry," I mutter beneath my breath, not sure if he even heard me. But for the first time, I don't want the pills. I don't want to leave Spencer's side. I'm too tired to even stand. I can't really help but fall against his shoulder. He moves his arm, causing me to sink into his lap.
"Just get some rest," he replies in a soft tone, stroking my hair, when suddenly, I'm overcome with the strangest feeling. I don't know how to describe it, all I know is that I don't want to move. Although I'm still and I'm breathing just fine, my heart is racing. I'm not in any discomfort, what is this?
I think I know when Spencer looks down at me. My eyes are closed but I can feel the movement, and there's just always something weird about when people look at you. You can always feel it, no matter what, like everybody's eyes emit some kind of ray that signals your brain "look this way, someone's looking at you." He grabs a blanket from the arm of the couch and puts it over me. He must think I'm asleep and cold. His fingers run against my left arm, facing up, which relaxes me. But I open my eyes and pull away, only to find myself being pulled back into him by some unseen force. He looks at me sweetly and I soon find my lips pressed against his.
(Freddie)
I don't know how to react, but I find my arms mimicking hers. Soft. Never thought I'd see the day when I'm comforted in Sam's arms. It's an oddly nice feeling, for once she's not tackling me or pouncing on me. Just... touching me. Not half bad when she's not attacking me. Is this real? Sam, the girl who has been dead for four years is in my arms now. Dead for four years! Why hasn't she said anything? All these years, I've been beating myself up over this, just to find out she's still alive. I never liked her much, but I didn't want her to die. And she didn't. This changes everything.
"Dude! You're alive? What happened?" she asks me, confused, eyes nearly popping out of the sockets.
"Me? Of course I'm alive, what happened to you?" I return.
"I asked you first! Is Carly alive too? How is Spencer?" she asks hastily, still clinging to me with her face buried in my neck.
"But you were dragged away... I saw it... and the bombs, how did you survive? Are you really Sam?" I begin to question. Thankful she can't see my face, because I'm so overwhelmed I'm trying my hardest to fight back tears while she can't see me. I know I'd never hear the end of it if she saw me crying. But I'm not crying because I'm sad. I just don't know how else to let it all out. She's alive. She's safe. She's here.
"Who else would I be?" she remarked, starting to pull back and look me in the face.
"Melanie?" I think aloud, for a split second giving up all hope.
"Don't insult me, Fredward!" is how I know who she is. She even has the same mean look on her face as she did four years ago when she last said that to me. I never thought I'd be so happy to be insulted by Sam.
I still have to let this sink in. I feel like I could collapse right now. I don't know how to feel about this. Happy? She's not dead. Upset? She's gonna keep torturing me. Relieved? I didn't let her die. Paranoid? Why is she here? Worried. Why didn't we know about this? Embarassed. ... Embarassed... I can't explain it but I just feel like I'm letting my guard down around her, which I shouldn't do. EVER.
But she's alive. This changes everything.
(Sam)
How could this happen? We're both alive. Makes perfect sense for me to assume the same thing happened to him, but what's his excuse? He should know better. Me die? Hah. And during a zombie outbreak, seriously. It's a miracle he's alive.
"How did you escape?" I demand to know.
"Well after you... well, you know. A helicopter came. The one that dropped the bombs. They picked us up, but we couldn't find you."
"You! ... I was on that helicopter!" I begin to explain.
"How could you have been on it? We didn't see you."
"Okay, not ON... but, this must have happened after they picked you up. They still had the ladder out, and I grabbed onto it. I thought they saw me and that's why the ladder was out, but I guess it must have happened right after you guys were rescued." Taking all this in, I have to sit down. Luckily there's a bed right behind me. How could I have not known?
"So..." he follows, sitting beside me, "what happened after you got on?"
"Hah. Alot," I begin, for once not really wanting to talk about it, but decide to go on with it. It's Freddie. He thought I was dead. How can I not tell him? I kind of owe it to him. Carly too. "After about fifteen minutes, I couldn't hold on any longer. Partly because I hadn't eaten in three hours, partly because I was just in a fight with a zombie, and because of the heat from the bombs... But I made it back safely. And... wait, why are you here? Did they force you to work for them too?"
"Is that what they did to you?" Freddie replies angrily. I don't know if that's what happened to him or not.
"Yes, isn't that why you're here too? In the same place as me? Where's Carly? Is she alive?" I start to panic.
"They forced you to work for them?" he lets it sink in. For once, I think he might actually be mad... about what they did to me.
"Freddie, are you mad?" I wonder out loud.
"But why? Why not me?" I can't tell if he says that out of confusion or if he meant he'd rather it be him. "How did you get here? Tell me everything."
"After I got off the first helicopter, another one came back to get me," I inform him.
"Wait... what kind of helicopter?" he asks, his face saying he knows something I don't.
"I don't know! CIA helicopter? That's who was in it," I tell him all I know.
"Oh God. Sam... how could that have happened?" he panics again, this time standing up and not even facing me.
"What? Do you know something I don't, Freddie?"
"The CIA? You're sure it wasn't the military?" He questions, turning around.
"Yes, I'm positive," I respond, looking up at him. "They told me to get in the helicopter, and I didn't really have much choice. It was either do as they say or get burned alive. That's when they introduced themselves as CIA agents, and then they threatened me. They thought I knew too much, but they also thought they would benefit from having me work for them. I didn't really want to, but I didn't have much of a choice. And I thought you guys were dead! So I didn't really see any point in going home. But they've been nice to me since I agreed to work for them. They're paying for my room here, and all the ribs I could ask for. Help yourself to the fridge if you want."
He gives me a strange look before asking, "so these dorms are co-ed?"
"Actually... they don't know I'm a girl," I whisper. "I was informed of getting a roommate but they said it was next week. If I knew someone was coming today, trust me, I would have put on some guy clothes or something. But I'm glad it's you. I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not in my own home... not to mention you're alive. Carly's okay too, right?"
"She's alive," he tells me. Thank God. A few moments pass before Freddie's phone rings unexpectedly.
"Hey," he answers in a calm voice.
"Freddie! Did you find Area 51 yet?" I smile at Spencer's voice booming through the phone.
"No Spencer, I'll call you back later," Freddie tells him and hangs up. Then he looks at me.
"What?" I ask, feeling my face start to heat up.
"What what?" he responds.
"Why are you looking at me like that, dude?" I start to question.
"Like what?" he denies, slightly raising his tone and posture. Moments go by and he still has the look on his face.
"Aw, Freddie," I can't believe I'm about to have this conversation with him. "You missed me."
He laughs, but I can tell he doesn't find it funny because he averts his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."
"How can you say that?" I start to argue, "back from the dead and you didn't even miss me? Lies."
"Are you sure you're not the one who missed me?" he returns, unexpectedly.
I shove him into the wall before picking up where we left off, "what would make you think that, ya nub?"
He stays in place. Doesn't bother fighting back. Eyes fixed on me. I don't notice at first but he's tugging on the sides of my shirt. His grip gets tighter. My arms, from pushing him away, rest on his lower torso. I'm not moving, and neither is he. So how is it that our bodies are closer than they were just a few seconds ago? His eyes, as if in a trance, stare blankly at me still.
I can't stand Fredward. We never got along. Which is why I'm so confused. I think I may actually want him now. I know exactly what's going to happen. He's too close for it not to happen. Only this time, I won't have to tell him what to do. And I don't think I'll stop it. My heart beats faster as our lips touch for the first time in several years, as he pulls me closer to him. It goes from being slow and awkward to enjoyable.
But then, something happens. I realize I don't know why this is happening. Did he really miss me, and this is just his way of showing it? Or is he just being a horny guy like most are? I don't know how to find out. I don't want to stop. But also I don't want to keep going when I feel so confused. I'm not even sure how I feel. I mean, it's Freddie. Fredward. Fredweird. The boy I always picked on and tortured. Called him a nerd, funny looking, you name it. But now, it's all changed. I can't pull myself away from him. I actually want this.
What the fuck?
"Is something wrong?" He asks me as I find myself backing off. My eyes open in response to his voice.
"Why did you do that?" I asks quietly.
"What?"
"Kiss me?" I begin to raise my tone at him.
"You kissed me!" he returns, doing the same with his voice.
"...Well... why did that happen?"
"I'm sorry," he tells me as he looks away, face red. What just happened?
I sit back down. Moments pass before either of us speak again.
"I just... can't do that. Without knowing why."
"Why? Because for once I thought I might have a chance with you? We talk for five minutes without you giving me a wedgie or slapping me across the face, just enough time for me to really notice how nice it is to be in the same room as you. I mean, fuck, Sam, I thought you were dead! Do you wanna know what I've done since that day? Do you wanna know how I felt about that?" He rants as he takes off his collared blue T-shirt.
And then I see it. After the initial shock of seeing that he's no longer a scrawny little nub I could pin down in two seconds flat. Which really only makes me want him more.
"But that wasn't permanent!" I shout without thinking, and then it hits me.
"I had it redone. It's still new, if you can't tell," he says to me as I stare at the perfect image of my face on his shoulder.
"Wow..." I'm speechless. My face on his shoulder. I remember when we made that bet... "Wow. Freddie, you're the only person I could beat up, tease, make fun of, torture and ridicule on a daily basis who would still care about me. Why?"
"I don't know," he starts, sitting next to me. "I guess because I'd rather put up with your abuse than not have you in my life. ...I never really thought about it until I thought you were gone."
This makes me laugh a little bit. "And I would rather pick on you than not have you."
We share another kiss. And another. Somewhere along the line I end up in his lap with his warm hands on my legs, his bare stomach brushing lightly against mine. He leans over, forcing me underneath him. He unzips my yellow jacket and I start to feel the bottom edge of my shirt trail up my stomach. I take it off, showing only my bra, my stomach taking his heat and warming up. Underneath my shorts, I feel his hand against my skin. A finger, inside me. He pulls away from my face and lightly kisses my stomach, working his way down, making me wetter with every inch he comes closer.
(Spencer)
She sleeps, but I'm still stuck to her.
What am I supposed to do? Just leave and wake her up?
Do I tell anybody? I can't keep this to myself.
But I can't tell anybody. They'd hate us.
What would Granddad do if he found out? I think I'd rather lock myself in an oven and die.
Carly would hate me. She's gone through enough already.
She's my sister. I love her. There's nobody I love more.
But... this kind of love?
No, it can't be.
In any case, she just needs some rest.
I should take her to San Francisco sometime. I know seeing Freddie would cheer her up.
Speaking of Freddie, I should call him back.
Too bad my phone's dead. And my charger is in the kitchen.
Oh well.
God, I'm bored.
(Freddie)
I awake in my new home, with Sam's arm spread across me. Her face, buried in my side. Nothing but the blanket to cover us. I still can't believe that happened.
But now what? Will she go back to the way she was before? Will she hate me again? Did she ever really hate me? I wonder what she's thinking now. What she's dreaming about. She looks so peaceful, laying next to me. No insults, no slaps, no punches, no faces. And when I put it that way... to think I missed her.
And yet, if I did miss her, that means it wasn't enough to drive me away completely. And I did miss her.
Maybe that's it. Maybe she tries to drive people away. Maybe that's why... well, this happened. Why I don't mind it at all. I'm the only one who stuck by her through her ugliest times. I never hated her. We didn't get along. But I trusted her. We never let anything bad happen to each other. Even when we thought we did.