Freddie's POV

"CARLY! SAM! HURRY UP!" I bellowed up the stairs.

"WE'RE COMING!" I heard Carly holler back.

I wondered what the hell girls do that takes them three hours to get ready for a party. I thought about going upstairs to get them, but then quickly dismissed the idea, in case they weren't dressed yet. Not that I minded seeing them undressed, but the thought of the pummelling I would receive from Sam kept me from moving from the couch. I had tried time and time again to explain to them that I had seen them in bikinis, which do not cover any more than a bra and panties do, but my attempts were futile and dismissed as me trying to get them to undress around me. Whatever. I was pulled from my thoughts by Carly coming down the stairs. I looked around at her and stood up. She gave a little twirl to show me her outfit – a red dress and black shoes – and I nodded my approval.

"Where's Sam?" I asked. "We need to get going, like, five minutes ago."

"I'm here, I'm here!" I heard Sam say as she ran down the stairs.

"Finally, what on earth took…" I trailed off when I saw Sam. She was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a blue shirt that must have belonged to Carly (and been forced on her by Carly) because there was no way Sam would ever buy it (or voluntarily wear it). Her hair was pulled back and she was wearing makeup (which also must have been Carly's doing) that made her eyes look even bluer than normal. She looked…pretty? No. No, this was Sam we were talking about. Sam was mean, and vicious, and violent…not qualities one normally associates with pretty.

"What are you gawking at, Fredward?" Sam asked with a strange look on her face.

"Uh…nothing. Are you two finally ready?" I asked.

They nodded at me.

"Alrighty then. Let's go" I said, jingling my car keys in my hand.

"SPENCER! WE'RE GOING NOW!" Carly yelled.

I heard Spencer's voice coming from the shower. "OKAY! HAVE FUN!"

The three of us headed out the door. While we were waiting for Carly to lock the door, I snuck another peek at Sam, and I had to laugh when I saw her reach into her tiny, sparkly bag and pull out a piece of ham. She suddenly looked up.

"SHOTGUN!" she screeched. "What are you looking at, nub?" she growled at me, giving me a flick when she walked past me. Ah I thought to myself. Now THERE'S the Sam we know and love. It comforted me slightly to know that no matter how amazing she looked, she was always the same Sam on the inside. But she did look amazing…

Sam's POV

On the way to Wendy's party, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window and thought. I thought about the look on Freddie's face when he saw me coming downstairs, and again outside the apartment. Maybe the endless mind-numbing afternoon of facials and manicures and pedicures and hair and makeup and clothes that Carly had forced me to endure had paid off. Not that it was for Freddie, of course. I mean, he was a tech dork and I had a boyfriend. But there was something there, no matter how much I tried to deny it or ignore it, ever since we kissed. Ugh I thought to myself. Here you are looking hot, on your way to an unsupervised party with lots of dark corners and your boyfriend, and you are thinking about FREDDIE? I looked down at my feet, which were encased in my favourite sneakers. Carly had tried to get me to wear some ridiculous pair of shoes in which I would undoubtedly break my ankle, but I had refused. I was wearing her clothes, her makeup and her hair products, but I wanted there to be at least some part of me that felt like…well, me. I had put my foot down at the heels, and Carly had grudgingly agreed to let me wear my favourite sneakers. They were limited-edition Chucks with paint splattered all over them in neon colours. Freddie had given them to me for Christmas. It kind of bothered me that Freddie knew me so well, and had gotten me the very pair of shoes I had been silently lusting after for months beforehand. Having been staring longingly at them for months, I also knew how expensive they were, and I wasn't sure if I felt bad that Freddie had spent so much money on me, or if it made me feel special. I looked over at Freddie, who was casually tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the music blasting from the speakers of his truck. As much as I hated to admit it, puberty had really been nice to Freddie. Almost overnight he had grown from a wimpy little kid to a tall, muscular teenager, bypassing the unfortunate gangly, pimply stage that so many of my classmates had suffered through. His voice never even broke I thought wistfully. And I was so looking forward to making fun of him for that. Somehow, his voice had just gradually deepened, with none of those embarrassing squeaks I was looking forward to so much. As we pulled into the party, all thoughts of Freddie vanished, and I began bouncing excitedly. I loved parties. As soon as the truck was parked I hopped out of the car.

"Come on, dudes, let's roll!" I told Carly and Freddie.

Freddie had parked a little way up the street. "Aw, Fredward, why'd you have to park so far away?" I whined at him.

"I'm sorry, do you not remember what happened last time I parked outside the party?" he asked me, while raising an eyebrow at me.

Oh right. Freddie's car had been the unfortunate victim of party damage. Turns out kids like to sit in the bed of the truck, which had been filled with assorted debris, including cups, bottles and cigarettes. Shaving cream had coated the windshield and one of the windows had been decorated with lipstick. It had taken us hours to clean it. Well, I say us. Carly and Freddie did most of the actual cleaning. I was there for…moral support. We arrived at Wendy's house and walked inside. Lights flashed, music was pounding and people were everywhere. In the middle of the throng on the dance floor I saw Gibby tear off his shirt and throw it into the crowd.

"I'm going to find Ryan" I said to Carly and Freddie. I weaved my way through the crowd as I searched for my boyfriend.

Freddie's POV

Sam was like a little kid. This thought struck me suddenly and unexpectedly. As I saw her dancing and skipping around the road where I parked, haloed by the streetlights, I thought how childish Sam was. She never hid her feelings. She never used any kind of tact, just told you what she thought straight up. She loved to play and run around outside. She never made things more complicated than they had to be. She was spontaneous and crazy, never thinking of the consequences of her actions. And despite her extremely prickly demeanour, I had always sensed a child-like vulnerability to her that she had just never let anybody see. My musings were interrupted by Sam whining at me and stomping her foot.

"Aw Fredwaaaard. Why'd you have to park so far awaaaaaaaay?" she whined.

I laughed inwardly at how she had just cemented my theory and explained my choice of parking spot. No way was my poor truck being subjected to the torture of a party ever again. Sam said nothing, looking ahead of her, and I basked in this victory. Getting the last word with Sam, no matter how insignificant the argument, was always a rarity. We entered the party to flashing lights, throbbing music and a massive crowd of people. Sam quickly left to go find Ryan, ducking and weaving through the gyrating crowd. Carly then disappeared to go find her latest flavour of the month, whatever his name was, and I was left standing alone. Again. I thought about how often I was alone. Usually my mother scared people off, so my only real friends were Carly, Sam and Spencer. Spencer was nearly thirty, so he was usually doing his own thing, and Carly and Sam always had each other. Me, on the other hand… I was alone so often, and I didn't even realize how often until that moment. I was abruptly confronted with the idea of always being alone. I had only ever had two girlfriends – one was only dating me to take advantage of me and try and bring down iCarly, and Carly was only dating me because of what I did. We had agreed to wait until the magnitude of the incident wore off, and then see if she still wanted to date me. I was operating under the assumption that she didn't, since it had been nearly a year and she hadn't come knocking on my door yet. I had a sudden vision of myself as an old man, sitting in a nursing home, surrounded by other old people. The others all had their kids and grandkids all around them, laughing and chatting, and in the middle of all the happy pandemonium, I was alone. I had nobody. The vision nearly brought me to tears. I needed a drink.

Sam's POV

I was getting tired of ducking and weaving and manoeuvring my way through the masses of people.

"MOVE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. People turned to look at me and then parted. I walked through the gap in the crowd. I was getting tired of looking for Ryan. I had been searching for nearly twenty minutes, and called and texted him countless times. I was now thirsty, so I headed over to the nearest bar. I picked up the nearest full cup, not caring what was in it, and turned around. I saw Freddie, sitting in a corner on a two-seater sofa, surrounded by empty cups and looking distinctly miserable. I headed over to him.

"Hey, Fredward." I said, sitting next to him. He looked over at me, and I saw his eyes were red. I wasn't sure whether this was due to the drinks or if he had been crying, but I had the distinct impression that it was a bit of both.

"Oh. Hi Sam" he said, slurring slightly. "Did you find Ryan?"

"Nope. I have no idea where he could be. I looked everywhere. Have you seen him?"

Freddie shook his head. "No. Sorry."

"Oh. Okay, well if you see him, tell him I am looking for him" I said. Freddie nodded, and I made to get up, but something stopped me. I sat back down.

"Freddie…" I started slowly. I had never been in this situation before, and I wasn't quite sure how to handle it. "Are you…okay?"

When Freddie didn't answer me, I looked across at him. But instead of looking in his lap, like he had been doing for the duration of our conversation, or even looking at me, he was looking straight ahead. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open. I followed his gaze and I saw Ryan. With his shirt unbuttoned. And his hair messed up. Wearing second-hand lipstick and walking out of a dark room (I think it was a bedroom but I couldn't really see) holding hands with another girl. As I watched, he turned and gave her a long, tongue-y kiss. It was like looking at a car crash. It was awful, but I couldn't look away. My eyes were glued to my boyfriend (ex boyfriend now) and the slut he was currently swapping saliva with.

"Sam…" I heard Freddie say. I looked at him and he was looking at me with a look in his eyes that I couldn't quite define. I saw care, and hurt, and compassion, but there was something else there. Without a word I got up and marched over to Ryan.