I don't own iCarly

Sam sat behind he bleachers, criss-cross on a patch of dead grass. She had stripped down in the unusual Seattle heat to shorts and a tank top, leaving her cap and gown folded in front of her. She couldn't believe it was over. High school. Her teenage years. Gone. It seemed like just yesterday they were filming auditions for Ms. Briggs. Now they were heading off to college and going their separate ways.

The moonlight shone down, reflecting off the windshields of the few cars still in the parking lot. Almost everyone had gone home when the ceremony ended, but Sam had stayed.

Her mom had a date tonight so she'd probably come home late and drunk either heartbroken or with some sleazy guy she'll want to have sex with. Sam preferred to stay out of the house for both occasions.

Carly was at a party with her boyfriend. Sam didn't feel up for partying.

Crazy had forced Freddie home right after the ceremony, despite his protests.

She had nowhere to go.

But she had to get off campus, that's for sure. They'd lock up soon anyways. Not that that was a problem for Sam, but she would rather avoid the extra effort of picking a few locks and jumping a few fences.

Sam stood up, cradling her cap and gown in one hand, her diploma in the other, and headed down the street, not sure of where she was going.

Freddie stared straight ahead as his mother drove down their street, 10mph slower than the speed limit. He tried not to give anything away in his expression.

He was going to MIT in the Fall. It just seemed so unreal. It had always been his childhood dream to get into MIT, but now that he had, Freddie felt empty, like he had missed the whole point of growing up. Of high school.

It's not about the grades and the scholarships and credits and honors and AP classes. It's about the relationships and the opportunities and the memories and the experience. Freddie had been completely blinded to that by his dream, which wasn't even his dream.

It was his mothers. He wanted to be a movie producer. Not a computer technician.

But if Freddie was blind to the meaning of adolescence, Mrs. Benson was blind to the fact that her son was an individual, capable of making his own decisions in life. As soon as the car stopped moving, he was out. His mother called after him, but Freddie kept walking, not sure where he was going. He just needed to get away from it all. He needed to think.

Sam looked up, realizing that her feet had brought her to Bushwell Plaza, which was no surprise considering that she practically lived there. She sighed and entered the lobby, pushing the up button on the elevator and ignoring Lewbert's complaints. Spencer wouldn't be home, either. He was having dinner with Gibby's mom to celebrate graduation.

Exiting the elevator, she walked straight to the place that she knew had been her destination all along. She wasn't surprised when she saw that the window to the fire escape on the eighth floor was already open. She was even less surprised by the fire escape's other occupant, who didn't seem any more surprised than she was.

"Hey, nub." she greeted, nodding at the boy perched on the iron stairs. He laughed and she sat down on the windowsill, staring out over the skyline and losing herself in the twinkling lights of the city. It was nice to just relax and wind down after such a stressful day.

In the eyes of the two teenagers, their lives were practically over. It was time for college. Time for responsibilities. Time for supporting themselves. Time for their future. Neither one of them liked how that future was looking.

"What happens now?" Sam asked quietly. Her hushed tone was gentle, not a side Freddie, or anyone else for that matter, saw very often. Her question, while vague, needed no clarification for the boy sitting next to her. Neither one of them really knew the answer. But at least now the question was out there, those intimidating words hanging in the air. It hadn't seemed real until then. Everyone had put off the notion of college as long as possible. It seemed like some far off adventure that they would keep talking about, but never really arrive at. Now they were months away, looking reality in the face, and it left them speechless.

"I can't believe you got into the French Culinary Institution." Freddie mumbled, smiling a little in her direction and being met with a predictable glare.

"Institute. And what's that supposed to mean, anyways?" Sam asked, her guard flying back up at his seemingly accusatory question. She was always careful to keep it up so that nothing anyone said could hurt her, and they didn't try to most of the time. It figures that the first time she let it down, Freddie would be quick to try to hurt her.

"I didn't mean anything. Just trying to make small talk." Freddie explained, saving himself from Sam's wrath.

"Well you're doing it." she snapped. Freddie let out a breath of air and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Yeah."

"So. How about this weather we've been having, huh? Pretty warm." Sam smirked. Freddie laughed and shook his head.

"You crack me up."

"Like a skull." she grinned.

"I think it's supposed to be 'like an egg" Freddie corrected, slightly amused and slightly frightened for his life.

"That's not as much fun."

"Of course not."

The two teenagers fell into a comfortable silence, leaving the playful banter behind them, at least for the night. Sam stretched her legs out so that they took up most of the concrete windowsill.

She thought about how much different it would be in a few months. She would leave for New York. Carly was going to London to study fashion design. Freddie was going to Boston, although she knew he didn't want to, to study computer stuff. He told her while he was complaining about his mother but anything relating to technology was just 'blahblahblah'.

With all three of them spread out over the world, would they lose touch? Would they find new best friends? Would their friendships just disappear? Freddie and Carly, well, mostly Freddie, were her family. If she lost them, she wouldn't have anyone to turn to. She looked over at Freddie, not allowing the fear to show in her blue eyes.

"You are going to call me, right?" she asked in a shaky voice, watching Freddie's expression as her voice cracked, betraying her true emotions. Instead of the ridicule she expected, Freddie smiled and wrapped her hand in his, taking both of them completely by surprise. His brown eyes locked with hers and something about their position made her feel safe. It brought her back to the times before senior year and all the stress that came along with it, and everything that came after it.

"I promise. I'll call you every single day, like so often that you'll want to murder me just to get me to stop calling you." Freddie smirked, using his thumb to stroke the palm of her hand. Sam tilted her head and grinned innocently.

"I already want to murder you."

"Looks like we're off to a great start, then."

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