Sam sat in front of Cra—Mrs Benson, biting her lip as they sat in awkward silence. Letting out the breath she didn't realise she was holding, she looked her in the eye.
"Listen, Cra—Marissa, I know you don't want me to date Freddork, bu—" She started before Mrs Benson held out her hand.
Judging from her expression, Sam realised Marissa was trying—unsuccessfully, it seemed—to formulate a response to Sam's words.
Sam sighed and laid back in her seat. What was meant to be a visit to insult and makeout with her boyfriend had become an hour of awkward silence with his mother. His overprotective, disapproving—
"No." Marissa Benson replied, spitting the word out of her mouth as if to get it done and over with, and knowing Marissa Benson, it probably was.
Wait. Where had that come from?
"Huh?" Sam asked, the first thing that came into her mind.
"No, I don't disapprove of you dating my little Freddikins. "
Ok. Had aliens just kidnapped Marissa Benson and replaced her with, well, an alien? Whatever. This was so not Marissa Benson.
Marissa sighed before continuing. "Listen, Samantha. I don't disapprove of you dating Fredward."
"Er. That's good, I guess? But what made you change your mind?" Sam blurted out.
"Well. Of course, I'd be delighted if Freddiebear had chosen someone more... sweet. And gentle. And smart, of course. But somehow—" Marissa stopped here, randomly muttering incoherent things under her breath, her eyebrows knitted together, "He chose you. You make him happy. And as much as I loathe the fact that he did, he did."
Sam raised an eyebrow. Maybe Marissa Benson wasn't as bad and overbearing as she thought she was.
"And of course, any other more considerate girl would strip me of the opportunity to fuss over my dearest Freddiebear..."
Sam rolled her eyes as Marissa started on weekly tick baths and antibacterial underwear and so on and so forth. She'd thought too soon, it seemed.
Taking that as its cue, her PearPhone vibrated with a message from 'Freddork—King of the Nubs'
Hey. Where are you? Carls and I are at Groovy Smoothie, waiting for you.
"Finally." Sam sighed out loud, replying his message.
GET ME A STRAWBERRY SPLAT, DORKWAD.
His reply was almost instaneous.
SINCE WHEN HAVE I NOT, PRINCESS PUCKETT?
Smiling, she headed for the door.
"Well, Crazy, I'm really glad we had this talk—oh wait, I'm not—but I gotta go."
"Hey, Sam, where were you, anyway?" Freddie asked, handing over the Strawberry Splat he'd gotten.
"Oh, nothing much, nub, just talking to your mum."
A/N Sorry if it's crappy, I can't sleep and it's 3 am here now. Anyways, I hope you liked it! :)
