When it happened the first time, she was nervous. So nervous, in fact, that she had to keep her eyes open to convince herself it was real, that she was kissing that dork she told herself she hated. That was right—she couldn't stand the nub. But when his lips pressed gently against hers, and she felt every one of his small, jittery movements, she relaxed slightly; maybe he was nervous about this too. Why they had even agreed to it in the first place, she didn't really even know—she told herself it was the spur of the moment, the low sound of Freddie's PearPod, and the way his smirk looked perfectly inviting in the soft light.
She would think about it for weeks after that. Things smoothly went back to normal between her and Freddie; as suspected, he acted like nothing had happened.
She wondered for the longest time why thinking about that moment on the fire escape gave her a warm, butterfly-feeling in her stomach.
She doesn't wonder anymore.
When it happens the second time, she's even more nervous than the first.
They fight. As usual. But then, he sighs and looks at her with feeling.
"Look. I know it's scary for you to put your feelings out there, because you never know if the person you like is gonna like you back. Everyone feels that way. But you never know what might happen if you don't-"
He was cut short when her lips collided with his. Her eyes were shut tightly. She didn't want to be afraid like before. Samantha Puckett didn't get afraid. Samantha Puckett didn't back away from what she wanted… What she desperately wanted for so, so long now.
His eyes, however, are open, wide open with shock and surprise and his body is reacting in weird ways; like that evening on the fire escape when he kissed her before: his heart pounds against his chest; warmth pools in his stomach. After the split second of disbelief, he realized that Samantha Puckett is kissing him, Freddie Benson, and he can't believe what the heck would possess her to do such a thing, unless—
Oh God, he is the one she's in love with!
When Sam pulls away, Freddie is terrified and in awe and jittery at the same time, and he just looks at her, just stares into her eyes for a fleeting second—
"Sorry," She mumbles.
"It's cool," He says quietly.
After a long, awkward pause, Freddie nervously points to the door.
"Well, I'm going to, uh, go back inside now, so…."
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
He turns on his heel and walks briskly to the doorway, opening it with a soft click. He's about to walk in but he stops, thinking he sees someone in his peripheral vision near the window, but whoever it was, they disappeared quickly. He's slowly closing the door behind him when it knocks against something, and Freddie turns back, laughing awkwardly and muttering "sorry" when he realizes it was Sam following him inside.
Sam was the last person on earth Freddie wanted to talk to right now. He was so confused, he just wanted to be done with the stupid lock-in and get home so he can eat fruit sauce and think this over thoroughly.
Actually, a part of him wanted to grab her by the shirt collar and start frenching her brains out, but he quickly shut that part up and mentally noted he needed to get his brain checked.
Sam, on the other hand, was beginning to think she made the worst mistake of her life. Maybe if she punched him in the shoulder and said, "How did ya like that practical joke, Freddison? I think it's my best yet," but she realizes that would probably just screw things up more.
She hoped that this incident could be quickly stored away and never spoken of again, just like their kiss on that cold night.
Her hopes would not be met, because she catches a glimpse of a shocked Carly running down the hall.
She saw.
Which means she was probably going to interrogate her in a locked room about why she had done what she did. And do the same to Freddie.
Things were going to get tricky.