Chapter One


I'm Back

Carly's POV

I stand at the airport waiting for Freddie to come pick me up. Spencer was in court working on a very important case and Sam wasn't answering her cell phone or her house phone. "Hey! Carly," I hear someone yell over the airport noises around me. I look up to see a very handsome young man calling my name.

"Do I know you?" I ask quizzically.

"Yea. I'm Freddie Benson – remember?"

I look him up and down. "Yea," I say giving him a big hug. "I missed you!" Freddie is definitely different when I hug him; he has this woodsy smell to him, as if he is wearing an after-shave or cologne, and he isn't wearing those ugly steel-toed boots or long sleeve shirt rolled up with a short-sleeved one underneath. Instead, he is wearing a white tee shirt, denim jeans, and a leather jacket. Because of the cool Seattle fall season, his hair is now longer but still dark brown. "Hey," I say, "I missed you guys so much. Where's Sam? She hasn't been answering my calls. What's up?"

"Well that's a long story," he says.

"Oh my gosh," I say, "It's been too long." He grabs my bags and leads me to a cherry red sports car. "Whose is this?"

"Mine," he says proudly. "Summer jobs and grandparents pay off," he adds chuckling.

"Your mom let you get it?"

"Well, not really. I just got it then she got mad, but hey - I couldn't sell it. I already bought it."

"Wow!" I say, surprised. "Is it just me or has someone changed?"

"You've changed too."

"How?" I ask.

"Your hair is longer and you're prettier," he says, looking at me.

"Nope - I changed my mind. You haven't changed at all. Don't tell me you still have a crush on me?"

He blushes really hard. "What! No, I had a girlfriend then I dumped her."

Curiosity gets the better of me. "Why? I ask.

"She was wild and wanted one thing"

"Oooohhhhh that makes sense."

He puts my bags in the trunk and we get in. "How was your flight?" he asks a little too late.

"It was great! I was excited to see you, Sam and Spencer, but I haven't heard from either of them."

"About Sam," he finally says, "she's in jail."

"What?" I shriek. "She can't be. Sam's crazy but not that crazy. Your lying aren't you?"

"Nope. She did some things after you left - stole cars, beat up police officers." My face freezes. I want to scream, to cry, but nothing happens. I just sit, frozen. Freddie must have taken notice because he says, "It's going to be alright, Carly. Don't worry – we'll get her out."

"We can't; it's too hard." I say stiffly.

"We can if we believe," he replies. "Come on, let's go visit her." He turns off the highway. When we get to the jail, it looks mean, cold, and dangerous. Inside at the front desk are an armed security guard and a receptionist.

"Hello, may I help you?" the receptionist says half-heartedly.

"Hi, I'm Carly Shay. Can I see Samantha Puckett?"

"Sure, but one at a time and for ten minutes only."

"Wait, no, miss. You don't understand. We both need to be in there," I say, gesturing to Freddie.

"I certainly do," she replies. "It means pretty boy here will have to wait outside. Okay? Okay," she answers herself. I look back at Freddie with sympathy and turn to go.

Once inside I see Sam, her pretty blonde locks tangled, dirty, and uneven, sitting behind a low counter with a thick sheet of plexi-glass with a circular vent in the center rising up from it to the ceiling. An armed guard stands behind her. A chair has been placed in front of the counter on my side of the glass. I take a seat. "Sam?" I say quietly, aiming my voice at the vent, "It's me, Carly. Remember me?"

She looks at me. "Of course I remember you. You're the girl I thought I trusted who went off to another school and left her best friends for life behind and her older brother depressed and her best friend lonely and her stupid nerd friend heart broken. Yea, I remember you," she finishes cynically.

I sit there looking at Sam through the plexi-glass window that separates us, the feeling comes again. I can't do anything but sit still and accept my surroundings but then I speak. "Sam, I'm sorry. I can explain why I left."

"Don't," she says. "Anyway, we don't need you any more. Look what you did to us. She turns to the guard and speaks to him quietly. They go back and forth for a moment, voices low enough that I can't hear. Finally, he nods and she hands him something. He proceeds to open a small drawer to the right of me. He places the item inside the drawer and pushes it through the opening to my side. I look inside the drawer. It was the best friend bracelet that I gave her in 6th grade. "When I arrived here, they were going to make me throw it away," she says. "But I wouldn't let them. I want you to remember me," she says, turns, and leaves.

In shock, I stand and walk away. What did I do wrong? I know I left abruptly but they were mad at me – I didn't cause the problem. That's why Freddie was acting strange. I did something to him to – oh god! What have I done? I walk back into the lobby holding the bracelet. It says "forever." I made it myself in art class. I gave it to her on her birthday, but now I have it, yet again. This was not supposed to happen. When I get back to Freddie, he sees the sad, stunned expression my face.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Yea, I guess," I say in response. "You want to go talk to her?"

"No," he says. "We've been talking over the years while you were gone. I told her you were coming but she said she didn't have much to say to you. I'm sorry, Carly." It takes everything I have to hold back tears.

We walk out then get in his car. "Hey, um, Freddie. Can we go see Spencer?"

"Yea. You sure?"

"Yes," I say with conviction. "He's my older brother and I miss him being goofy. He'll lighten up my day, I'm sure of it!"

"Okay," he says skeptically. The entire ride to the apartment is quiet. Freddie doesn't speak until we get there. "Carly, I'll get out with you if you want. I think I need to."

"Ohh-kay," I say. "Come on, let's go." We enter the apartment building and go to our floor. At the door, I knock. No one answers so I knock again.

"Come in!" I hear Spencer call. He is probably working on an art sculpture and can't come to the door, I think to myself. I walk in. He is decked out in a tuxedo, his hair smoothed back, and he is on the phone with a briefcase and papers in his hand. I run and hug him, almost knocking him down.

"Spencer, I missed you much!"

"Uhhhh, that's nice," he says, pushing me away and getting back to his work. Freddie looks scared. When Spencer gets off the phone, he looks over at me "Carly Shay. Long time, no see."

"Oh my gosh – I missed you so much, Spencer!"

He doesn't look happy at all. "That's cute, but if you loved me, you would have stayed when I had time for you but you didn't and now I don't have time for you. Go ahead now," he says.

"Whatever," I say and go up to the iCarly studio. It is no longer a studio. It now looks like an office, all neat and tidy. This isn't Spencer. I want to go and clutter the desk, knock things down. Spencer isn't neat and tidy, no way! I go back downstairs and Spencer is on the phone again with Freddie looking almost pale. "Freddie, you alright?" I ask.

"Yes," he says. "This is just what I didn't want to happen but I knew you would have to deal with it sooner or later." He gives me a sympathetic look.

I go up to Spencer and grab the phone away. "Spencer, what is wrong with you?" I yell. "You're not supposed to act like this. You're not supposed to be neat and tidy," I say as I mess up his hair and scatter the things on the counter. Tears start to run down my face and my voice gets louder. "You're not supposed to act like this!" I yell again.

"Well, this is the new me, Carly. I was through with sitting around and acting dumb. You were here, you were gone, and now you're here again. Make up your mind!" he says and grabs his phone from me. I burst into tears and run out. Freddie follows behind me.

"Carly, wait!" he yells. "Carly!" I run into the parking lot, making cars stop abruptly as I dodge them until I get to Freddie's car.

I stop, out of breath, tears in my eyes. "I'm sorry, Freddie," I say, falling into his arms.

"It's going to be alright," he whispers to me. "It's going to be alright."