a/n: I'm supposed to be doing research. Oops.
He doesn't really know how he got into this, but Freddie Benson stumbles up the hill with the others, Carly and Sam leading while he and Spencer walk slightly behind. It's been a rainy week, and Sam insists that if they went mudsliding right now, it would be great. Freddie doesn't personally feel like getting muddy and worrying his mother, but Carly reassured him that they could hose off at Sam's house before walking back to Bushwell Plaza.
At the moment, the sun is making a brief appearance in the sky, and Freddie feels like everything might be alright today, this might actually be fun. They finally reach the crest of the hill, where nothing seems to grow (maybe Sam planned it that way) and it's mud all the way down. Freddie ponders if there are any rocks hidden in the mud. He shoves the thought out of his mind. If he thinks about it too much, he'll get scared.
"Boys first, boys first," Sam and Carly say in unison. They must have planned this out well, because that just upped Freddie's level of skepticism. What kind of 'sport' is this anyway? Hopefully it's entertaining enough to outweigh getting mud in his shoes and hair and fingernails – oh, whatever.
"So how do you do this?" he asks, giving the girls a look, a 'you better not lie to me' one.
"Just get down on the hill…" Carly starts.
"And then you slide on your stomach or butt or whatever. Just go, Benson," Sam says in conclusion.
"Fine," says Freddie, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels because he definitely does not feel confident.
He sits on the hill, Spencer standing behind him. Apparently you have to at least wait five seconds before going after someone else. He's gathering his courage when a foot plants itself on his back and pushes, sending him down the slope.
"You weren't fast enough, Benson…" says Sam's voice, but it's getting further away now because Freddie is tumbling – and at one point, rolling – down the hill, getting absolutely smothered in mud, and right then he's not thinking how glad he is to be there, how weird it is that he ever tried it in the first place, but actually how exhilarating this is. He can see why Sam recommended it.
When he finally comes to a stop, he stands up and shakes some of the mud off. The others look like ants at the top, and Carly calls, "How is it?"
"Pretty cool," Freddie yells back. "What are you waiting for?"
They all take turns sliding down the hill, and at one point they end up in a heap at the bottom, laughing their asses off. Freddie looks at each of them in turn. Spencer is even more covered in mud than he is, babbling about his socks; Carly is brushing her hair out of her face and giggling about not being able to get up; and Sam is… being herself, he supposes. But she's beautiful, even with mud in her hair and on her nose and all over her clothing – because she's Sam and she just is.
They all wash off most of the goo at Sam's house, and they walk back to Bushwell laughing about what they just did, and Freddie is thinking inside the whole time, I did it. I did something that probably none of my 'friends' at school have ever done, and something that my mom would never allow me to do. And it was great. As soon as he walks through the door of his apartment, though, he thinks a little different.
"Fredward Benson! WHAT have you been doing and why are your clothes brown and – oh! – you have a cut on your face and WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?!"
"Well, Sam…"
"I don't want to know what that troublemaker has been doing, I want to know what you've been doing!" his mother demands.
"But Carly and Spencer…"
"Not them either! What about you?!"
"We went mudsliding."
"Well, see, was that so har – you did WHAT?"