Disclaimer – I think we're all aware of the fact that I don't own iCarly.

A Bunch of Stupid Dumb Reasons Why I (Supposedly) Like Fredward Benson

A Half-Assed Essay by Samantha Puckett

So here I am. Seated in this stupid room in this stupid Troubled Waters mental hospital (since my waters are oh so very obviously troubled) with a particularly stupid therapist staring me down while I write this stupid essay. About stupid Freddie.

Yeah, so basically, I'm here because some wonky trolls infested my brain and made me kiss him a couple nights ago at the lock-in. The therapist – whose name I haven't really bothered to learn – seems pretty damn interested in all of the reasons why I'm at good ol' Troubled Waters. She says that it sounds like I'm "facing a classic case of internal conflict" and "battling self-hating demons" inside my head. Right.

She also made some comment about how I've "always strived for his attention" because, apparently, if I was teasing him, I was at least still trying to get him to notice me. Uh, okay.

So her suggestion – and by suggestion, I mean assignment – was that I write an essay about all of the things I like about Freddie. I told her that I would be much more likely to even consider this stupid essay if it was about the things I hate about him, but then she said that would be "counterproductive" and that I was "completely missing the point." And besides, I would be supervised as I wrote said essay, so there's no actual way to get out of it. She's still staring at me. Every now and then, I'll look up and make a face at her. Different one each time. Always spicing it up.

Okay, so I should probably start the actual essay part before I go all 127 Hours on my hand (it's already starting to cramp). And I'll warn you, I'm probably going to have to get all serious and down to business for this. You know, dig down all deep into my onion layers. Way down deep.

Ugh. So apparently there's no minimum or maximum amount of reasons why I "like" Freddie (note the sarcasm), but she says I should probably have at least ten. Well, that sounds like a damn minimum to me, lady. Here goes absolutely nothing.

I like the look he gets on his face when he finishes his homework. It's this triumphant kind of expression, with a prideful smile on his face boasting his victory. I know he works really hard on it, and his schoolwork in general, to please his mom, and to feel good about himself. Academics is important to him, really important. It's something I don't really, like, get, you know, but I admire it. So maybe he doesn't have the same look on his face when he finishes my homework – that one's mostly made up of relief and annoyance – but it's still kind of cute, okay?

Oh, and –

He does my homework for me. Enough said.

He always cheers me up. A few years ago, seeing Freddie react to one of my pranks, quickly reddening and filling up with frustration, would put a smile on my face, but a lot of things have changed since then. Not like I don't still pull pranks on his sorry ass, but these days, all he has to do to make me happy is flash me one of those devilish nubby grins, whether it be from behind Carly's back or during a particularly gruesome class period with Mr. Howard. In fact, when I first realized that the ship otherwise known as the S.S. My Life had hit an iceberg and would not hesitate to sink – meaning, when I first came to terms that I had fallen for the dork – I started getting into these funks where I would rarely sleep, rarely eat, and rarely shower. (I knew it was bad when my mom applauded me for getting a shower after a week-long hiatus, seeing as though she has no room to even consider me as a competitor in that field.) I would continually get stuck in these funks over the course of my crush (actually, I hate that word. Longing? Infatuation? Okay, no, crush) on Freddie, and they were always sporadic and sometimes lasted for weeks and end. I spent most of my time at Carly's, of course, and I cleaned up for webshows, but everything I did or said had its own personal flair of monotony and hopelessness, like a horse on its way to the slaughterhouse.

Anyways, one time while I was stuck in one of my funks, I was staying home, by myself, on a Saturday night, watching reruns of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and pigging out on leftover ribs, which were about a week past decent, as far as leftovers go. The doorbell rang just as one of the Kardashian sisters opened her loud-ass mouth, so I was grateful to get away from that. And lo and behold, who was waiting behind the door but Fredamame Benson himself! He stood there like a pathetic nub he is, his arms full of classic movies he knows I love – Pretty in Purple and Seventeen Candles being a few of them – and various bags filled to the brim with packages of Fat Cakes, candy, and chips. And of course, on his face was that stupid nice-guy version of his famous grin, which made the corners of my mouth twitch upwards until I finally gave in and beamed right back at him. That was a particularly good night, if I remember correctly. One of my favorite memories.

He's not a douchebag. Unlike most of the male population, Freddie Benson, ever the ladies' man (heavy sarcasm), has never toyed with a girl's feelings for the hell of it. He's just a damn nice guy. He hasn't been on a real date in a while, but I can bet you that on his last one, he charmed the fuck out of that girl who dared to turn him down for a second date. And he'd never just "hook up" with a girl and not call her back. He's just not a jerk like that. And you know what the best part of it is? Out of anyone on this planet (Carly included), he knows the most about me. He's like my goddamn personal diary, for Christ's sake. If he wanted to hurt me, he could. But he never has.

He always talks about his future. And when I say "his" future, I mean "our" future. We're only juniors, but he'll always bring up colleges in the area and majors he's thinking of, and I just want to yell at him to STOP, but this is only sometimes. Other times, which is most of the time, he'll just say, "What are we going to do after high school?" with this strange chuckle. We. Oddly enough, he only ever says this when Carly's not around. Because that happens, you know. Sometimes when she's on a date, or taking Spencer to the hospital, or doing the grocery shopping, we'll get bored and go up on the roof of Bushwell and lay on our backs and pray it won't rain. It's kind of fun – okay, it's fucking awesome – to get alone time with him, and then he'll bring up our future, and it's a lot more fun and awesome. The way he uses the word "us" makes me think that he has big plans for the two of us to like, move in together after college and live off of Lunchables and Pringles and Peppy Cola and Chinese food, and it makes me get this excited feeling in my stomach just thinking about it.

I actually brought it up to him once, and after a few moments of silence, he told me in a really quiet voice that he thought that was a kick-ass idea. Even though I hate that idea of going to high school to go to college to get a degree to get a career that you'll have for the rest of your life, I can't wait for my future with Freddie. I mean, I know that sounds dumb and premature considering we aren't even "together", but it's like… I'll go to college for him and do the best that I can if it means that plan for after college will still be up for grabs.

He never told anyone about our first kiss. And that sounds stupid and all, because we were fourteen and we cared about things like coconut cream pie and shitty vacations in Japan and fake feuds with fellow web stars, but a first kiss is a lot different than all that shit. Now, I can't say the same for our second one, since the last time I spoke to him was right after I attacked his face with my lips, but the first one? Well, that one he kept a secret. That's special.

He's the only guy who's ever fought back. This one's kind of weird and personal, but it's kind of like a first instinct for him to get back at me. And not just with pranks. When I hit him, he hits back. And it's kind of a turn-on, okay? He stands his ground against me and it's hot. He's not afraid of me. (Well, not anymore.)

He's really good with the techy shit. I know I always make fun of him for being our tech stooge (which he is), but the kid knows his stuff. Technology doesn't really interest me, but it's cool to see how happy it makes him.

He knows what it's like to grow up without a dad. When Melanie and I were five years old, my dad left us and we haven't seen him since. Coincidentally, when Freddie was six, his dad died in a car accident, leaving him stuck with his crazy mom. Sometimes we'll talk about how much it sucks to have no father figure around, and he'll listen to me bitch about how much I resent my dad, and I'll listen to him fantasize about what his life might be like if his dad hadn't died. And yeah, Carly hasn't seen her dad for a few years due to his naval duties, but there's something that makes that…not the same. He knows what it's like, and it makes me feel a lot better about the fact that my dad is a total shithead.

I've never felt like I need to impress him. Having a friend like Carly can kind of put a damper on your self-esteem. She's gorgeous, well-liked, funny, at the top of our class, and the star of our webshow. There's something about her that makes everyone around her feel like they need to impress her. She's not actually like that, all prissy and shit. She's actually kind of neurotic and weird, and she has a lot more imperfections, but let's just say that I feel less confident when I'm standing next to her. But with Freddie, I've never felt the need to impress him, because I've always thought of him as my inferior. I've always shown him what I'm really like, but it's been his choice to stick around. And whenever I do actually impress him, it feels really good, because his opinion matters to me.

He's a genuinely good person. I really can't stress this enough. Freddie is just…he's a really fucking good person. He's nice and kind to everyone he meets. He gives people the benefit of the doubt, but not in the naïve way Carly does. He stands up for what he believes in. He's trustworthy. He cares about me and Carly and his psychotic mom. A lot. He's loyal. He cares about things that matter. He's just a really outstanding human being, and he makes me want to be a better person. And that's saying something.

Okay, done. That wasn't so bad. And only ten!

…Alright, whatever, it was actually eleven, but who's counting?

a/n: i wrote this way back in august, before ilmm premiered, but i totally forgot about it until now. um for the most part i'm pretty proud of it actually. anyways, i hoped you liked it! :)