DISCLAIMER: I don't own iCarly, coz if I did, Sam gets to sleep at Freddie's every night, instead of bugging Carly in their apartment. And rootbeers would have the right amount of caffeine that's good for the body so that Mrs. Benson would put some in their fridge.
As I walked into my room, I immediately shut my eyes closed to prevent my eyeballs from popping out of my sockets, after seeing the most horrifying vision I've seen this day. There's a blonde-headed demon clutching a pitchfork lying on my bed like some princess.
Okay. Maybe I was exaggerating about the pitchfork, but she's really holding a huge fork with an equally enormous chunk of meat stuck to it. But the demon thing, I'm not exaggerating. That thing on top of my bed is one obnoxious and violent monster whose primary purpose in life is to make me miserable every single day.
"'Sup, dorkwad?" Sam said, biting off a big piece off the ham.
"Sam, what are you doing here?" I said, which sounded more like a complain than a question.
"Aw. I'm just visiting my Fredlumps." She replied, while chewing noisily as uncooked meat started to stain my pillows. "Wondering if he's okay or something."
"MY Fredlumps?" I gagged. "You have no right to declare me as a part of your horrible possessions, Puckett. You don't even have the right to be here! Shouldn't you be sleeping by now? It's almost eleven in the evening."
"Yeah, I was supposed to," she pointed out. "Until mom decided to watch that horror chick flick today. Can you imagine to get some sleep with her screaming and crying all over the place in the middle of the night? Even a dead person would wake up from the graveyard with all that racket."
"Yeah. Sometimes, my mom has her days." I said, thinking of the times when mom watches those documentaries about deranged children, then wake me up in the middle of the night to yell about my posture, my diet and Carly being a bad influence to me. Yeesh. And before I get lost in my thoughts, I shook my head and continued, "Ugh. The point is, if you can't sleep, it's not my problem anymore! I don't know why you have to go over my house and bother me like this. Isn't your constant 'Freddie bullying' enough for you?"
"Nope." Sam said casually. "Got any rootbeer?" she added, as if I've never said anything.
"Fortunately, no. mom thinks the caffeine in rootbeer would–"
"Ugh! Enough with your mom!" she snapped, before I could explain the bad effects of the bubbly beverage to the body. "This Momma needs your attention right now. Now, gimme some foot massage."
I made a face as Sam lifted her right foot, and wriggled it to beckon me. The dirt of her sneaker's sole , which she wiped on my mattress, alone is disgusting enough. What horror would I face if I actually massaged her foot?
"You are so dead when somebody finds you here." I threatened her, avoiding saying 'Mom' again. Man, do I really sound like a mama's boy?
But Sam threw her ham aside (and into my Galaxy Wars action figures, which I arranged into a pose similar to a scene in Episode 11) and jumped out of my bed. Looks like what I've said just taunted her, as always. I turned around to run away, but she grabbed my shirt and threw me into my bed, before I could call the police.
"Gimme. Some. Foot. Massage." Sam said, emphasizing every word, as she pinned me down. I struggled to get her off me, but she held my arms and legs with hers.
"Can't we just do that when we're doing Pathetic Plays in iCarly?" I asked, trying to thrash about. But it's no use. I'm no match to this seemingly harmless girl with the strength of a 250 pound pro-wrestler. As I stop squirming, she let go of me, knowing that I've accepted to do her stupid request.
We sat up, facing each other, while she took off her sneakers and socks. And as she tossed them in the corner,I inhaled something that smelled like a dead rat or that lunch I had from our cafeteria yesterday.
"Man!" I shouted, pinching my nose to block that repulsive smell. "Please don't tell me that smell came from your foot!"
"So what if it did? I just haven't changed my socks since last week."
"Last week? You haven't changed your socks since last week?"
"Geez. Do you really have to repeat everything I've said? Less talk, more foot massage."
I sighed and started rubbing Sam's foot. It was soft and smooth, but her foot really reeks. If only she would change her socks more often, I'd be massaging her feet everyday. Ha. But for now, I'll just try to remember where I've put my anti-bacterial hand sanitizer.
I looked up at Sam, who occasionally flinches and bites her lip. Trying not to laugh, aren't ya? I remembered that Sam was kinda ticklish. Since I couldn't help it, I gently ran a finger down her sole. Instantly, she pulled her leg off my hands as her shoulders stiffened and a light giggle escaped her mouth.
"Hey! Watch it, Benson!" Sam yelled at me, trying to hide the fact that I made her laugh, which was easy to tell, since her voice cracked.
"Sorry." I said, smiling slyly, reaching out to do that again. But she grabbed my hand and twisted it. "Ow. Ow. Okay. Okay! I'll stop! Please! Let go of me!" She did let go, and leaned on the headboard, pouting her lips. She looked cute while she sulked like that. Whoa. What am I thinking?
"So, how'd you got here? Through the window?" I asked, trying to think of other things.
"No, I came out of the toilet. Yeah, I went through the window!" Sam answered back, regaining her meanie tone.
"Now that's a stupid question." I mumbled to myself.
"Yeah! No chizz! Only you were stupid enough to leave the window open, too."
"But our apartment's eight floors high. How DID you really got here?"
"Ah, why do you wanna know? You know I've got my ways."
I shrugged and closed my eyes. This isn't going anywhere. SHE'S not going anywhere. There's a Sam on my bed. I'm trying to get rid of her but she just won't go. Now what?
All of a sudden, the smell of raw meat filled my nostrils. I could also feel warm air pressing against my face, like something or someone is lightly breathing in front of me. As I slowly opened my eyes, I saw Sam's face inches from mine.
"Sleepin' early, nub?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm trying to think of a way to get rid of you." I said, frowning, as I moved away from her face.
"Don't bother trying. You'll fail anyway."
"Please. Just go home. Go to sleep."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"I just can't."
"If it's because of your mother, well, go to sleep at Carly's."
"And make her call me a freeloader?"
"Which is what you are."
"Can't I just stay here for one night? I'm already here anyway."
"No, you can't. Go somewhere else. Anywhere but here."
"I feel lazy. My legs are numb."
"Then crawl your way back."
Sam scowled at me. I was expecting a blow from her, but surprisingly, she didn't hit me. Instead, she turned her back tome and sprawled on the right side of my bed. She fluffed the pillow beneath her head, and pulled my blanket and snuggled over it.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're not going to sleep here, Sam!" I said, grabbing my blanket off her. "Your mom's gonna find you, my mom's will throw a fit and probably have a heart attack, and I don't think I could sleep with you invading my space! My only sanctuary without you in it! Until you came!"
Sam turned back to me and stared at me with boring eyes. "Look, douche bag. I'm really tired, man. Just let me get some sleep."
"How about me? Don't you think I'll ever need that too?"
"Well, then sleep on the floor."
"This is my bed, in case you don't know!"
"Well, soft bed you've got here."
I groaned so loud that my head hurt. I massaged my temples and started pulling my hair. This is driving me crazy. Luckily, Sam seemed to notice that.
"Listen. I don't really mean to bother you, Freddie." Sam said in a serious face. "I just wanna get some sleep. And I think that I would if I stayed here for a while. But I promise you that this would be the last time I'd be doing this. So, let me stay just this night, okay? I swear, I'm just going to snooze and not beat you up while you're sleeping or something."
After staring at her for a while, I let out a long sigh. "Fine."
"See?" she scoffed. "And we really have to go through all that fuss just to convince you."
"If you've just told me earlier and not show up like a thief in the night."
"Nah. You still won't let me anyway."
"It depends on the situation."
"Yeah, yeah." Sam said. She then yawned loudly and closed her eyes. At least that calmed her down. Maybe she really is sleepy. Sleepy enough not to draw something on my forehead, I hope. Well, I guess all I have to do now is to just trust her, and eventually, sleep.
I turned to her side and propped my left elbow to my pillow so I could put my head on my hand. I looked at her face, sleeping so calmly, unlike that evil one that I had to face everyday. Her eyebrows were not scowling at me anymore; instead, it was relaxed under her bangs. Those eyes that used to give me a hair-raising stare are now hidden beneath her delicate eyelids. She was breathing softly to her nose, creating a soft rhythm that seemed music to my ears. And her lips, though still pouting slightly, were closed tightly into a thin line. Those lips that used to yell bad nicknames at me or threatened me in a scary way. Those lips that kissed me before…
I realized that I was almost leaning so close to her when her eyes snapped wide open.
"What?" she moaned, looking up at me in a bewildered expression.
"Nothing." I said, looking away as I straightened myself up.
She just rolled her eyes and shut them again. After a few seconds, she opened them again and erased her previous expression.
"Dish rag." Sam muttered. "Could you be a dear and switch off the lights for me?"
"Why won't you do it yourself?"
"Coz, this is your house and your lights. Now, just do it, before I kick you in the shin."
I gave in and didn't even bother arguing with her any longer. I stood up and dragged my way towards the light switch. After flicking it off, I drudged my way back to my bed. I pulled half of my blanket from Sam and lied down.
"G'night, Fredweird." Sam mumbled, which sounded more like an order. Still, I could detect a hint of sincerity in her tone.
Since there was a dim light shining from the window, I could still see her face in the dark. That demon turned out to be an angel after all, once she's asleep.
Sam was just like her feet. Tough and stinky from the outside, but the truth is she's really nice and soft once you take off those dirty sneakers and socks. She's not that bad if you tell her to change her smelly socks masking her everyday.
I smiled. Maybe I would get some sleep right now, though she's by my side. Because, she's by my side. On my bed.
"Good night, Sam."
Another procrastination one-shot from yours truly! Liked it? Well, tell me what you think! Click that REVIEW button right now!XD What? Don't like it? Well, don't worry, kiddo… I've got plenty more stories to tell… once I feel typing them. That's all for now! :D