A/N: Hey! This is a little friendship between Sam and Freddie that follows up after iGoodbye. Hope you like it!
"Hey, Fredwad! Wanna ride on my 1964 Sterling motorcycle?"
As much as I thought it would happen, we haven't been distant from each other, not even from Carly. We had texted her and called her ever since she had left, and I had still been hanging out with Fredwad. Even though Carly's gone, and even though it hurts a fucking lot, I've been trying to preoccupy my mind by taking this baby out for rides more and more frequently now.
Yeah, Spencer had gone on it with me a few times, but the things he says to me just sometimes either frustrates me or makes no sense because he's Spencer. He's still been letting me stay the night at his apartment since Carly's left. I even ended up using the 't' word and saying thank you to him once, something I don't do very often, but I've been getting used to it.
"I'm the nerd?" He furrows his brows at me, his irritating little voice retorting back, but I can't really help but hang out with him because I'm trying to stop thinking about Carly. But Sam Puckett still isn't nice.
"Just shut up and get on, okay?" I scowl at him, his fearful eyes glancing back at the motorcycle and then me.
"I will not get on that thing." He tells me as harshly as he can, pointing to mamma's motorcycle.
I give him a slight eye roll, tugging into a piece of chicken that I'm holding in between my legs, resting my hands on the front of the motorcycle as I glared at him. "It isn't a thing, dude. It's a 1964 Sterling motorcycle."
"I don't care! You never get my stuff right, and I'm saying stuff because you wouldn't even understand or care what I'd say!" he whines back, pursing his lips at me.
I throw my chicken that I'm holding around in the air with my hand, not bothering to listen to him. "Right. I'm bored now. Are you gonna get on or not?"
"Not!"
I smirk at him. "Do I have to fight you to make you come on? We all know mamma's gonna win, Benson."
He finally gives in. "Ugh, I'll get on your 1964 Sterling motorcycle, but when I tell you to slow down, you slow down, and when there's a red light it means to stop and not speed up! Got that, Puckett?"
This time I'm the one who furrows my brows back at him. "When did you turn into my mother?"
"I just don't wanna bleed!" he whines again, adding a groan.
I lick my lips back at him as I soon finish the chicken that I had drowned in gravy, still savoring the flavor. I throw the tub of chicken that I was holding onto the ground, and before Fredwad can give me some boring lecture about how I shouldn't litter and chiz, I plop him on and then I'm riding full speed onto the road. He's just lucky puberty got to him. He doesn't scream like a little girl as much as he did when he was younger, but it's still funny to hear him panicking back there.
"Sam, this isn't funny! Slow down."
But I don't, because I like the thrill. I go faster every time, and I can't help but continue to laugh at his panicking. He isn't hanging out with me because Carly's gone. I know that.