It seemed like a good idea at the time. It was amazing how much of what Sam said did. It was also amazing that, if given time, a small amount of thought would reveal that the idea was more of a musing that most people would forget in a few seconds. Generally Carly recognised the ridiculousness of the suggestion right after Sam said. However, every now and again Carly would only realise just what Sam wanted to do and how stupid it was after Sam had done it and there was a citywide search for the stolen orangutan that was, in fact, in the iCarly studio.
This time, however, Carly was not left with having to disguise an ape as a child in order to return him to the zoo but she was left with immense physical pain in her legs and torso. It was the sort of pain that came from too much running and being tackled by very butch women. She hadn't really grasped the rules but it seemed to her that Rugby was a series of dog piles in wet mud until someone got a try which was disallowed because her foot went off the side of the pitch. She was still angry about that decision.
This was definitely Sam's fault. It was Sam's idea that she should take up a sport and apparently, since starting high school, Sam had begun playing every sport under the sun. She said that it helped her to relax and was thus the perfect cure for the cumulating stress that Carly was under in all her advanced classes. Carly had forgotten that for Sam a fight was as relieving as a massage and so, at the time, it sounded like a good idea. It wasn't so good after eighty minutes of being trampled into patch of mud and then having to walk home looking like some sort of swamp monster because the rugby club didn't have showers. She was not a happy bunny.
What made it worse was that Sam, having invited herself to stay the night at Carly's, was now settling down in her bed as if this was all perfectly reasonable. There was no option but to question her about events. "Sam?"
"Yes, Cupcake?" she replied. Gratuitous use of a pet name was not helping Carly's frayed nerves.
"What, exactly, is relaxing about rugby?"
"What isn't?" This served to annoy Carly even more.
"Getting ground into dirt by massive women and the fact that my legs feel like they're going to fall off, maybe?" was Carly's attempt at a sarcastic answer. She coupled it by rolling over to glare at Sam, leaving their faces close enough to make out each other's expressions in the darkness. Carly thought that Sam was aiming for nonchalance, and at the end of the day, she was achieving it.
"I think you're just sore that your try was disallowed." It was almost as if she was trying to annoy Carly.
"No, I'm sore because I've just taken a beating from some fat chicks! But, my foot was never over the line."
"Fine, I'll find something that is non-contact. Wanna try softball?"
Carly didn't even entertain the idea. Their high school P.E teacher had banned her from taking part in softball lessons, under the proviso that she was obstructing the other student's learning with her apparent ineptitude. She thought that was hardly fair, they wouldn't ban a kid who couldn't do math from studying algebra. If anything, the kid would be encouraged to try harder. Of course, the teacher was the kind of person who believed that sporting endeavour was the greatest achievement in existence.
"Have you forgotten that PE lesson, Sam?"
"Which one?" She said grinning wildly.
"The softball one?" Carly questioned back. Not only had Sam gotten her physically worn out but she was now bringing up buried emotional scars.
"Oh yeah, you can't catch small things, can you?"
"Something like that"
"And you throw like a girl." Sam added.
"What? I am one!" It took three months for Sam to let that comment die down. It really was amazing that she'd forgotten about it.
"Fine then," Sam smirked. "Forget I said it. We'll try basketball." Carly knew why she's smirking. Throughout their teenage years, Sam has become an attractive, if still very abrasive, young woman. And a tall, young woman. Whilst Carly was climbing slowly towards five foot eight, Sam had reached the lofty heights of six foot four and threatened to push on further. For Sam Puckett having half a foot over someone was something to boast about. It also meant that she was a sure pick for the girl's basketball team.
Carly wasn't in the mood for Sam's teasing tonight. She rolled over attempting to emit a noncommittal grunt at the same time. Sam prodded her in the back. She tried to ignore it. Sam prodded again. And again. It was eventually too much for Carly. "What, Sam?" she said angrily, sitting up.
"What about basketball? I know you're pretty short but-"
"I get it Sam, you're freakishly tall." She interrupted. Loudly. "It's not something to brag about, it's just genetics that-"
"Carly," they hear Spencer shouting from downstairs. He must have heard her whilst working on his latest sculpture. "It's late and you've got school in the morning." It's his code for 'Go to sleep' without ordering her because it's just not in his nature to be authoritative.
"I don't appreciate being called a freak, Carls." Sam notified her. Carly was hit with a pang of regret. She'd been getting agitated and she didn't want to start a fight. Things never went well when she fought with Sam.
"Sorry." Carly said, quietly, looking at her. She felt bad but banter works both ways. "It's just that you did once confess to having a sexual relationship with ham. That is a bit weird, you know?" This time it was her turn to smirk.
"So what about track then?" Sam quickly changed the subject. Carly wasn't going to let it die this time.
"What about this ham?" Had the lights been on or they been a little closer, Carly thought she would see Sam go red. But they weren't and she didn't.
"My sex life isn't the issue here. You and sport. That's where we are. You were pretty fast out on the wing today, you could be a sprinter." Sam tried.
"What? I just run?"
"Yep."
"Sounds like a lot of work."
"So you want a sport that doesn't include work? You're not making this easy Carls." Sam started. Then an idea hit her. "You could play darts!" Exploded out of her mouth. Spencer must have heard her as she was quite loud, Carly thought before realising what Sam's suggestion was and being hit by abject confusion.
"Since when is playing darts a sport?" Carly questioned.
"It's a sport in England."
"Sam, think it through. We're not old enough to get into bars, how do you propose I play darts?"
"You could buy the stuff." Sam answered quickly. She didn't appear to be putting much thought into it and Carly knew that a fairly good reason for her to avoid playing darts had been mentioned not three minutes ago.
"I don't think Spencer would be happy with me throwing sharp things around the place." She said trying to be quasi-cryptic. Or what she hoped was quasi-cryptic. She wasn't sure what it meant but she wanted to do something that included the word quasi. Being cryptic was just a way of avoiding the actual subject, the throwing ability that had shown itself playing softball.
"Why is that?" Sam said, looking confused. Carly wasn't sure why, either Sam didn't know what she meant or her attempt at quasi-cryptic had failed. Carly would have put money on the latter.
"You know why." Carly replied, hoping to avoid having to spell it out.
"No, I don't" Sam smirked. It was obvious to Carly what Sam wanted. She'd have to bite the bullet and confirm all the comments from that softball lesson.
"Because I can't throw straight." She admitted. It was painful but it was true. Aside from the insanity of thinking darts to be a sport and not being of drinking age, it was the fact that she would likely manage to cause serious harm that precluded any darts playing.
"Don't you mean 'I throw like a girl'?"
"For god's sake," Carly spewed angrily. "I am a girl, it's compl-"
"Carly, it's really late." Spencer shouted from the kitchen. She'd got too loud again. And he did have a point, she did have to get up for school in the morning. She flopped back down in a huff.
"Someone's upset." Sam smirked in a smarmy style. Now she was getting Carly really worked up, in the full knowledge that Spencer might well get annoyed too, soon. "I think it's because of that try."
"Well my foot was not over that line." Carly said bitterly.
"Whatever Cupcake, just go to sleep." Said the blonde.
"It's my bed, I'll sleep when I like."
--
Downstairs, in the Shay's kitchen, Spencer was confused. There were three reasons for his puzzlement. Firstly, he'd been commissioned by the American Physicist's Association to make a sculpture that represented the concept of the infinite. What he had made, without realising it, was a fish made from chunky peanut butter. Secondly, he knew his little sister and her best friend had just had a conversation covering the topics of height, darts and gender. He couldn't figure out how those three themes connected. Finally, and most confusingly, his peanut butter fish was on fire.
--A/N--
So, not my first fanfic but so far my only one that I've really liked. Some more chapters may come along, I suppose now that I've got a start I might be inspired to keep going. It was mainly written in three sittings over around a month and a half so I keep thinking my style may have changed slightly half way through but I'd have to leave it for another couple of weeks before I could read through and tell but if I did that I might never get it on here. So hopefully you've enjoyed this, and if you have or haven't please review. I'm hoping for some constructive criticism here.