Summary: Sent to a juvenile delinquent camp for something he didn't do, Freddie deals with anger and resentment towards almost everybody. Unfortunately, the blonde headed demon's there too.(And that doesn't help with anything..)
Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.
This story is loosely based on the movie Holes. I don't own that either.
"It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light."
-Taylor Benson
The phone in my hand was hot and sweaty. Carly's voice sounded so far away. "It's all going to be okay, Freddie. Spencer's working right now to prove you innocent. It's going to be a lot harder for Sam, though. He says the cops are already fed up with her record."
I sighed. "But our cases are tied together. If she can't get out-"
"We're trying, Freddie."
The phone started to buzz, signaling that my time was up.
"I've got to go."
"Wait," Carly pleaded, "your mom misses you Freddie. Call her sometime, okay?"
I growled. "Okay, bye." I lied, hanging the phone back unto the holder. A line had formed since I first picked up the phone. A mixture of boys and girls, mainly boys, were standing around with scowls on their faces. Sam was somewhere in that line. I didn't care, though. I could care less who Sam's going to call (though I know it's going to be Carly. Her mom wouldn't care and Melanie would be too disappointed.).
I could care less about Sam, period.
"Back to your station, Benson." Mr. Munroe, my director, ordered. "You got a lot of diggin' to do."
I met up with the gang at our post. Lincoln, my only friend at the site, fist bumped me.
"Yo, man. Talk to your girly-friend?"
I rolled my eyes. I knew it was a mistake when I told him about my infatuation with Carly.
I glanced over his clothes. Like usual, they were tattered and covered with dirt. His brown shaggy hair hung over his eyes, caked with dry blood. He noticed my concern and said, "Kameron decided to whack me."
I glanced at Kameron, who was digging innocently acting like he wasn't listening. Cole, the weird one of the group, was digging another hole next to him. Then I picked up my shovel (pure black with the words iCarly painted on it) and started to help Link with the hole he was working on. He seemed to notice how my eyes would linger on the iCarly logo.
"Don't worry, man.", he said sympathetically, "You'll be outta here soon." He stuck the shovel against a rock. It clanged loudly. "Sooner than I will.", he mumbled, picking up the rock and throwing it into the rock pile. Link's situation was worse than mine. He never actually told me (or anyone) what went down, but I've heard rumors. I was about to say something to reassure him, but a hot gust of wind blew against my face. If it had been my first day I would've shrugged and passed it off for nothing. But I'd been here for a while, and this wasn't just another gust of wind.
"Dust storm!", a black headed girl shrieked, throwing down her shovel and running for the concrete dorms. I looked where she had pointed, and sure enough, a cloud of dust was hurling our way. I threw my shovel into the hole I had just been digging and tugged Link's arm. "This looks bad, Link. Let's get out of here." He nodded his head and threw his shovel down too.
When I got to the concrete dorms, Mr. Munroe did a head check.
"Lincoln Normand?"
"Here.", Link said, raising his hand.
"Samantha Puckett?"
I could almost picture the glare that was bound to be plastered on her face. Nobody answered.
"Samantha Puckett?"
Everybody was looking around, and eventually a red headed girl raised her hand. "She was right next to me when we were digging. She might've been too late and got-"
"Nonsense.", Mr. Munroe cut her off, "There's been plenty of storms like this since she arrived. She knows better than to pitter patter around when one comes"
Another girl, one I recognized as the girl that stole her parents car and took a joyride, Patty, spoke up. " What are we going to do then?"
Mr. Munroe wrote something down on his participation records, then walked calmly to the other side of the room. "Wait it out, I suppose."
"But we can't just leave her out there!", Patty yelled, flinging her arms up angrily.
"We can and we will."
Several shouts of disgust and anger echoed through the room. The wind outside seemed to increase just as this happened. The wind itself probably had enough force to blow away a person. The dorms didn't have windows; and if they did they'd been broken out long ago. We couldn't really see what was happening, but we could hear it. And it seemed as soon as it begun, it was over.
"Benson." Mr. Munroe barked, pointing his finger at me.
"Yes, sir?"
"Go get Samantha and bring her here immediately."
"Yes, sir."
I stepped out of the dorms awkwardly, tripping over several shredded tarps that the storm had blown. I wasn't really sure where to look. It may seem cold of me, but I could really care less where she was. If she got blown away; good. Makes life easier for me.
Of course, I would never be that lucky. I could hear loud music coming from a hole near the girls line of work, and decided to look there first. There she was, blonde hair and all, picking dirt out of her fingernails in a hole that she probably didn't dig.
I said, "Sam." , but she didn't seem to hear me. I finally got her attention by throwing a rock at her head. It missed, barely.
"What?", she said angrily, as if I had disturbed her peace of mind.
"Mr. Munroe wants you. You didn't show up for head-counts after the dust storm."
"So?"
Everything was a battle with her.
"Where'd you get that?" I asked her, pointing at the pearpod in her hands.
"Where'd you get that ridiculous hair-do?", she shot back maliciously.
"Where'd you get that attitude problem?" I growled, kicking the dirt into her face.
She stood up in the hole like she was going to punch me, but she slipped and fell back into it. I grabbed her hand and held her up. "Lets just go."
She got up wordlessly, stuffing the pearpod into her bra, and followed me to the dorms, where she knew punishment awaited.
