I started the list a long time ago. I don't know why I did it exactly, I just started writing and once I did I found it hard to stop. For the next year, whenever she did something, I'd write it down, so I'd never forget all the terrible things she'd done to me. But after a while, the list started to change. It wasn't supposed to go like that, but one day, something just came over me. It wasn't a big deal. I chalked it up to hormones and continued the list as I had before. And yet, as time went on, more things like that kept presenting themselves. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Finally, after almost a year, I admitted it.

As much as I hated her, I was in love with Samantha Puckett.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Carly, I'm home!" I shout, slamming the door behind me, throwing down my backpack and flopping down on the couch. "Bring me some ham, will ya?"

Carly comes running down the stairs, grinning from ear to ear, twirling in a circle on her way to the fridge. "One plate of ham, coming right up! You want some Wahoo punch or Pepi Cola or anything?" she asks, pulling a ham out of the fridge.

"Uh, Pepi Cola please," I say, looking at her confusedly. "You're in a good mood today. What's up?"

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just that... JASON ASKED ME OUT!" she squeals.

"What?" I shout. "That's great!" We scream together, until a sudden, uninvited thought popped into my head. I wonder how Freddie would feel about this. Wait. Since when did I care what Frednub thought? And besides, he'd been through this plenty of times with Carly, why should it matter this time?

As if he knew we were talking about him, Freddie comes in the door, silencing our screaming. "Hey guys," he says, throwing his backpack next to where I'd thrown mine. "What's all the screaming about?"

"Carly's got a boyfriend. Where's my ham?"

"Another one?"

"What do you mean another one?" she asks, frowning slightly at Freddie.

"Well, it's just, didn't you and Blake only break up a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah, and?" she asks, now full on glaring at him.

'Ooh, this should be good,' I think. 'Looks like Carly's about to go all she-hulk on his ass... His fine, fine - dammit Puckett stop thinking like that!' I blushed, thanking god that Carly and Freddork's attention was elsewhere. As much as it pains me to admit it, I've developed a crush on the idiot in the last few months, and it's getting worse every day. Why did he have to have those eyes that looked like melted chocolate, or that fine, fine - dammit, I'm doing it again! What is wrong with me?

I look up to see that I've missed half of Carly and Freddie's argument, and they're now standing on either side of the kitchen counter glaring at each other. "Maybe I should leave before one of us says something they'll regret," says Freddie frostily, arms crossed over his perfectly molded ches- chiz! Why do I keep doing that?

Carly crosses her arms back and said, "It sounds like ONE OF US already has."

"Then maybe ONE OF US should apoligize!"

"Maybe ONE OF US should leave!"

"Fine!" she shouts, storming out and slamming the door behind him.

"Fine!" she screams after him, before storming upstairs. I get up and walk to the kitchen to get my plate of ham.

~~~~~~~~~

After about 10 minutes to let her cool down, I tiptoe up to the studio to see how Carly is doing. I push open the door slowly, to find her sitting on one of the beanbag chairs, eyes swollen from crying. I walk over to her slowly and pull the other beanbag next to her, sitting down quietly.

"Hi," she says, rubbing her eye with her fist.

"You okay?"

"Does it look like I'm okay?" she snaps at me, making me jump back in surprise. "Sorry," she mumbled, looking down again. "I'm just so mad, ya know? I thought that dating someone new would help me get over this stupid crush, but no matter what I do I still love him! And then Freddie just calls me out on it! 'Ooh, Carly has dated a lot of boys, she's such a slut!' He doesn't seem to get that there might be another reason to it!"

"Wait," I say, trying to wrap my mind around what she was saying. There's another boy? "You have a crush on someone else?"

"Did I say crush?" she asks, blushing furiously.

"Carly, do you like Freddie?"

"What? No, of course not!"

I look at her sceptically.

"No, no, it's someone else," she says, looking me straight in the eyes. "Really. I promise."

I can tell she's telling the truth, not even I'm that good of a liar. In that case though, someone had to make Freddie Benson pay. And luckily for Carly, I'm the perfect person for the job.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I skip first period the next morning, as usual. It's only study hall, and i figure, what's the point in sitting and not doing something at school when I could just as easily sit and not do it at home? Today though, I'm not staying at home. I get up early (well, if 8:30 counts as early - I'm not sure it does) and walk over to Bushwell Plaza, rubbing the bobby pin in my pocket with my thumb. I walk in, ignoring Lewbert as he screams that he just mopped. I run up the stairs two at a time, and duck behind the bush in the corner as Ms. Benson steps out of her apartment, carefully locking all 6 locks behind her. She whistles as she puts her keys in her pocket and walks over to the elevator, pushing the button to go down. The second the doors close behind her, I jump forward, getting started on the locks.

After a few minutes, and several satisfying clicks, I open the door, stepping into Fredward's impeccably clean apartment, my backpack resting heavily between my shoulder blades. It's not full of school supplies though, it's full of something much better. I walk into Freddie's room, almost squealing from excitement. This will be the best prank yet.

I set my backpack down on the floor, unzip it, and am about to pull out what is waiting inside, when I see the corner of a notebook poking out from beneath his bed, as if it were shoved there hastily. I step forward, pulling it out. The one word on the cover makes me grin evilly. This is even better than what I had planned. Thinking I should go through with the other prank too, for just in case the notebook isn't as interesting as I had hoped, I shove it in my backpack, and pull out the first canister, I shake it vigorously, grinning the whole time. I pull off the lid and push down on the button, brightly colored plastic shooting out of it. I pull out another canister, and another, until my backpack is almost completely empty, and silly string canisters litter the floor around me. I take one last look at my handiwork, dump the canisters into the trash can in the corner, pick up my backpack and turn away, its familiar weight back on my shoulders. I almost forget about the notebook, and that one little word that inspired me to take it.

Journal.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This fic will probably be 4 parts, but the second will be much shorter than the rest. Hopefully the other two will be about this length too. The idea of this came to me the other day, and it's probably pretty cliche, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Please review, and let me know what you think will be in the journal! :)