iBlame It on the Alcohol
an iCarly story
by: EmilyHelene
Dedicated to my girl and fellow Seddie Shipper: Danielle Campagnolo
Disclaimer: Now, I'm going to say this slowly. I. DO. NOT. OWN. iCARLY, capische? Good, I'm glad we're on the same page...or same story at least because fanfiction does technically have pages. THAT was lame. ANYWAY... I don't own iCarly, but I do abuse my computer privileges because of it. :)
Summary: "Please, I'm not some docile lightweight like you, dorkerella. Mama can take it."
"Yeah," I rolled my eyes at her, "that's exactly why you showed up at my door at three AM wasted out of your flippin' mind."
November 3rd 3:02am
15 Baron Street, Unit 2-B
Freddie POV
"You're missing out, dude." Adam's words echoed through my mind as I put the finishing touches on that night's pride and joy. I had turned down a night of hard partying with a big group of guys and their girlfriends to get ahead on my homework and now, I would lie awake wondering what would have happened, had I stayed out until three rather than up. I pushed myself away from my desk and was met with the sound of hard, plastic wheels on the creaky century-old hardwood floors of my residence. The two guys below me had long since adjusted to that sound. Not that any of them really studied much aside from the girls down at Voltage, a popular club for the single and desperate located about five blocks from our house.
I hit print and watched the eight page paper fly out, neatly stacking themselves one on top of the other. I ran a hand through my hair, pulling it out of its prison of hair gel so that it flopped down on my forehead and sporadically brushed my eyelids. I could feel the hard seam of my pants digging into my leg and after twenty two hours of use, my shirt was beginning to suffocate me. I grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that I was pretty sure smelled clean and headed for the bathroom to grab a quick shower. What else was there to do at three in the morning anyway? At least my mom would be proud of me.
After I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off I took a look in the mirror. Black bags hung under my eyes and I looked as tired as I felt, but there was an edge to my features. An element of satisfaction that really only came with the pride of a job well done. Or the pride of a job well done early in my case. I pulled the t-shirt on over my head and towel dried my hair in the shortest amount of time possible, wanting nothing more than to just crash right then and there.
From the window in my living room I could see the beginnings of dawn and permitted a yawn to escape from my lips. A sideways glance at the clock confirmed my suspicions and I grabbed my paper from the printer tray in my room and set it out on the coffee table, mentally reminding myself to proof it one last time when I woke up. I shut off the lights and opened my door, listening to it groan and squeak from being used too many times. I did a once-over of my room and realized I'd be doing laundry tomorrow as well because I was fairly certain that I had more clothes on the floor and near my hamper than I had in my closet. Yet another thing to add to my never-ending list.
Finally, I just pulled back the covers and tried not to focus on anything other than the pattern on my pillow, which, in time proved to be rather distracting anyway. I was just drifting off to sleep when all Hell broke loose in the hallway and I was forced to open my eyes once again. I groaned and tried to bury my head with the pillow and then my covers but apparently banging from the hallways is not so easily deafened by measly 150 thread count sheets. At first I just tried to ignore it but when I heard the familiar drunken giggle followed by numerous complaints from my neighbours (few of which I could repeat) I knew who the cause was. "Sam," I practically mumbled.
Earlier
November 3rd 1:37am
The Red Door Nightclub
Sam POV
"Round one!" Jared shouted, smiling at the pretty waitress as she passed by. Before long, six vodka shooters appeared in front of us and I peered into the tiny glass, respecting the liquid for the immense strength it held over my buds and I. Not many could totally alter Sam Puckett's thought process, but vodka could do it every time.
"Bottoms up!" Kirsten yelled, gleefully. The girl was the ditsiest drunk I had ever seen and made no effort to hide it. I raised my glass and looked around the table. Most of the faces were unfamiliar ones and usually just blended into the club atmosphere. Usually, I went clubbing with Kirsten and she called whoever to tag along. More frequently than she would care to admit, she ended up waking up next to one of them with no memory of the previous night. I'm not one to judge, but the girl could try a little harder. Not that I was much better, waking up late for class with splitting headaches at least twice a week. The toilet and I were well-acquainted, to put it simply. But Kirsten was known for her non-stop partying and ability to hold down booze, unlike my girl Carly. Never, I repeat never go to a bar with Carly Shay. We weren't even there for an hour before I was lugging her home so she could barf her little lightweight brains up until at least six in the morning.
I brought the tiny shot glass to my lips and sucked it back. The sharp liquid slid down my throat, overpowering my senses and making my ears ring. I shook my head at the sensation that always came with the first shot of the night.
"Sam!" Kirsten's bubbly voice burst over the commotion of the club. She practically lugged me from my seat and over to the dance floor where guys began sizing us up. I pretended to be too drunk to notice their stares and started dancing with someone at random. He had a faux-hawk, white shutter shades, and smelled strongly of alcohol. Then again, everyone here did and I wasn't really picky when it came to things like this.
When the song finished, the guy tried to follow me to my table but I sorted him out. He was pretty wasted so it didn't take much, but still, there were things I would rather be doing dressed the way I was. After a few more drinks (I'm off the clock so I'm not about to do something nubby like try to calculate my total alcohol intake for the night) and a lot more dancing, I was starting to wind down. Back at our table, I pulled my phone from my pocket to check the time and found two missed calls instead, both from Carly and both wondering where the hell I was. Try to keep in mind that as I typed this message I was pissed drunk so I can't really be blamed for my dumb drunk texts. Shay'd figure out what I meant eventually. I should have wanted to go home, seeing as it was already past one in the morning, but my good friends vodka and orange juice were a little too persuasive. No way was I leaving just yet. I tossed my purse and heels under my coat at the table and trudged to try and hunt down some familiar faces on the dance floor.
"Yo, Puckett." Kirsten's voice came in a sharp whisper which, in all honestly, surprised me. The girl wasn't really the type to whisper. About anything. I felt her tight grip on my arm as she pulled me closer to her and pointed her drink at a random person across the dance floor.
"Craig's feeling pretty lonely, hon. Couple of us were hanging with him and he's had his eye on you since we got here." She pouted on the guy's behalf, trying her best to be persuading. I would dance with pretty much anyone, but actually being set up with someone wasn't my style. Correct me if I'm wrong, but even to me, a club doesn't seem like the best place to meet a serious boyfriend. They were for having fun, not making lifelong commitments.
I gave her a look that clearly said I was not interested in little mind games.
"Okay fine," she pouted, "He just wanted to know if you were single."
I rolled my eyes, this always happened at least once a week. There were two things that polar opposites Carly Shay and Kirsten Reed had in common, one, it was their apparent need to hook me up with random strangers and two, they were the only ones I wouldn't beat senseless for it.
"Kir, I'm really not interested right now. I think I'm going to go get another drink." I should have known that wouldn't get me far. With a giddy shake of her head, Kirsten flashed a smile across the dance floor at another boy standing a few paces to the left of newly dubbed "Random Dude of the Night". From what I could see he was tall with floppy blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. He would have been cute and possibly even my type if not for the blue and grey striped polo that would forever classify him in my mind as a nub. Kind of like that kid, Benson.
Kirsten's expression turned pleading as she calmly motioned to the other boy, silently explaining that he was her "Random Dude of the Night" and if he played his cards right, "Random Dude of Tomorrow Morning" as well. Love the girl to pieces, but she's kind of a whore. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. I let forth a groan before permitting myself to be dragged over to the other side of the packed dance-floor. All around me wafted the aroma of sweat, vodka and stupidity that, together, created a perfectly fun club atmosphere.
"I'll go over with you, but no way am I letting you hook me up again. Not after last time." Yet another reason not to love being hooked up. In her defence, she was completely boozed up but even I noticed that the guy she told me time and time again was checking me out, batted for the other team.
"He was checking you out. I swear to effing God! I didn't know!" she babbled, desperately trying to dig herself out of the hole she had just fallen into. I thought this would last for a bit but the second we came within ear shot of Craig and Stripes, she was all smiles, giddily sipping her drink and falling all over herself. I shook my head.
"Heeeey, Blaine!" she purred, throwing an arm around his shoulder and inching herself closer to him. The disgusting look on face made it clear that he didn't mind.
"Hey yourself, gorgeous," he whispered in her ear. I made a point of thoroughly expressing my disgust (the oh-so-mature gagging gesture) as they started sucking each other's faces off. To be honest, I felt a pang of jealousy. Not that I wanted to suck anyone's face off like that, but I wanted something that Shay and Reed had in common. A boy, or in Kirsten's case, many boys. I'm not about to confess that I dream about someday having the perfect domestic life with two kids and a house in the suburbs but come on. Was it so wrong to want someone to care for me? And not just because of the way I looked? Someone that could handle me and wouldn't make me change. God, I sounded like such a romantic sap. I wanted to gag at my own inner thoughts when a voice pulled me from my insufferable pity party.
"Can I get you a drink, or something?" Oh, right. I was supposed to be talking to someone.
"Uh," I looked over at Kirsten and Stripes and quickly turned back to face him, "Yeah, sure."
"I'm Craig." He shouted above the roar of the club.
"Sam!" I shouted back. Without thinking, I tugged on his arm and practically wrenched him away from where he had been standing and over to the bar. It was pretty bleak for a Thursday night, but then again, it was getting pretty late. I swivelled on my heels, almost falling over when my surroundings kept spinning even after I'd stopped.
"Whoa, watch yourself!" I felt a hand on my elbow, steadying me and a hot blush covered my face.
"Whoops! So, Craig, drink?"
"Nah, better not. Someone's got to haul everyone home tonight." I laughed. Not because I found him particularly amusing, but because he reminded me of someone. Even in his appearance. He had the same chiseled jaw and eyes that were so reminiscent of gravy that I began to crave poutine. I tried not to let his lame, plaid button down shirt deduct from his overall appeal. As Kirsten would say, it wasn't the shirt that mattered, anyway. God, the girl was a skunk bag. In the best way, though. Is there a way to be a respectable skunk bag? Like some sort of line you cross, because I'd like to know.
"Sam? You feeling alright?" Craig's voice pulled me out of my mental rant and I groaned internally. This was the second time I'd totally blocked him out all night. Crazy things happened when alcohol took over. I became almost...nice. I shuddered.
"Yeah, just a little thirsty." I turned to the bartender and practically shouted my order in his face. "Rum and Coke, and make it fast! I never said I turned into an angel; I was just a tad more considerate. Okay, so maybe there was no real difference. "And the boy wants one, too."
"Minus the rum, though, please." God, what was it with this boy and manners? Honestly, it was almost like he was trying to be Benson's twin brother. Wouldn't that be an odd thought? He'd probably have a weird name, too. Like Jarvis or something. Then Melanie could like, marry him and I'd marry Freddie and we'd be a giant ball of inter-related twins. Mental Etch-A-Sketch. God, this was some strong stuff.
"Could I see some I.D, please?"
"What?" I asked a faraway tone in my voice. "Oh, right. I.D." My hand instinctively flew to my side where my purse usually resided before coming to the inevitable conclusion that I'd left it on the table. Along with my shoes. For some reason I kind of felt dizzy again and when I started to lose my balance, Craig steadied me.
"You know what, man; she doesn't really need another drink. Right, Sam?"
"Nah, I'm okay." I protested. I had asked for my drink for a reason. Stupid Craig, trying to be responsible.
"Seriously, Sam. How many drinks have you had?"
"A few." I lied, sitting down on one of the swivelling bar stools and slowly turning back and forth. He raised an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes. Again with the similarities.
"Okay, fine more than a few. But I haven't exactly been keeping track. Who do you take me for, a concerned nub?" I could feel the frustration seeping into my tone and pooling like a puddle of ink. The more questions he asked the more frustrated I got.
"Maybe you should go home. I can give you a ride if you want?" I considered telling him just where he could shove that ride of his when I realized that he was probably a nice guy and was better than some of the creeps that I ended up dancing with. Dan had probably already been swept away by the temptation of the club and other than a cab; my options were kind of limited. Albeit reluctantly, I agreed.
"Fine, I'll go get my stuff." I grumbled, heading over to the table. Before I got there, I caught up with Kirsten.
"Who's that fine piece of boy you got there, Sam?" She drawled, eyeing Craig devilishly.
"It's the guy you introduced me to, dimwit!" I snapped, already annoyed that I was leaving, even if it was for the best.
"Sorry, don't have to be so touchy," she replied, stepping back a little too quickly. The liquid courage in her glass sloshed wildly before a good portion of it suffered the effects of gravitation pull and wound up all over her shoes. "Shit, look what you made me do. You're buying me another one tomorrow," she breathed, but it didn't really seem like she cared much.
"Put it on my tab," I laughed, despite my mood, "I'm heading out."
"With Craig," she wiggled her eyebrows and sang out a little too loudly.
"Not what you think," I assured her before giving her a quick hug and heading off to collect my things. By the time I reached the door, Craig was waiting for me, keys in hand.
The cool breeze hit me like a ton of bricks and reduced the dance-induced flush greatly the moment I stepped outside.
"It's the Explorer over there," he smiled motioning across the parking lot. This time, it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. A college kid with a nice car? Now there's an oxymoron.
We walked over in silence and with virtually no interaction. Save me stumbling over my own feet a few times. I hopped in the passenger side, shut my door and leaned against the back of the seat, shutting my eyes. Tomorrow morning was going to suck, but I was too giddy to worry about silly things. I decided to do what I did best; ignore the consequences. I'd never run into any trouble with it before. Okay, fine. I'd never run into any serious trouble before.
"So..." he started, his words long and drawn out. He was obviously just as sick of the awkward silence as I was. "Where do you want to be dropped off, again?"
"Uh," I rattled off the first thing that came into my mind. "15 Baron Street, by Marty's Deli."
He nodded and tapped it on his GPS, which I watched a little too closely. A purple heart appeared, bouncing along the digital road on the screen and I had to stifle my laughter. I couldn't resist asking.
"Why's the marker a purple heart?"
He reddened slightly at this, "Oh, I was babysitting my niece earlier today. I forgot she changed it. Her favourite colour's purple." He looked over at me with an amused smirk, "Something wrong with that colour?"
"Nope, not a thing." I fiddled with a loose thread on my dress before bringing up another topic at random. "So where do you go to school?" I winced at how lame I sounded, but hey! At least I was trying!
"DigiPen. It's in Redmond, do you know it?"
I nodded, "I know someone that goes there."
He looked at me with interest. "Oh, yeah?"
I looked out the window as we turned a corner, doodling on the cool glass of the window. "Yeah, this kid, Freddie Benson. Know him?" I mumbled, forgetting to attach the usual heavy dose of disdain.
"Yeah, he's in my Computer Science class. Pretty sure he's top of the class."
I snorted. No surprise there.
"What about you?" Another attractive snort brought to you by Sam Puckett.
"Far from it, bud."
"You finished with school?"
"Nah, I take a few courses down at Seattle Central. Unlike Benson, I don't have every aspect of my life meticulously planned out. He's such a nub."
"Sounds like your complete opposite. You know what they say about opposites..."
And that's when I lost every shred of self-control. On a whim, I hit the power button for the radio and cranked the volume as loud as it could possibly go. Craig's voice and my thoughts became a jumbled mess among the heavy bass and overly-audio corrected diva.
"Jesus, Sam!" Craig shouted, turning down the music. "What the hell?"
"Sorry," I whispered, inhaling sharply my inner Puckett shining through. "Here's a little bit of a heads up. I'm drunk, bud!" He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled deeply.
"If you want to listen to music at least make it good." He pressed a button and a familiar beat surrounded me.
"Here we go again; I kinda want to be more than friends." I sang, likely very loudly though probably on-key. "So take it easy on me, I'm afraid you're nev-er sat-is-fied." Before I had enough strength to stop myself, I began to kind of tap out the rhythm on my knee and maybe dance around a bit despite my seat belt. I mean, I was pretty wasted so it was kind of to be expected.
Suddenly, the music stopped and Craig's voice could be heard loud and clear among the silence.
"We're here."
I turned to see his face, though clearly annoyed, smiling slightly at my antics. I gave him a wide grin and opened the door, doing my best to slide out and not fall over right away.
"Want me to walk you up?" he asked, but I shook my head furiously. For some reason, all I wanted to do was crash. Well, that and dance around like an idiot. I got the feeling that a happy medium would be rather hard to come by.
"Nah, I'm good. Thanks for the ride!" He handed me a folded up piece of paper.
"Here's my number if you ever need anything." I nodded and began to walk up the path to the building, only stumbling on my shoes a few times. "Try to behave yourself?" He called, sticking his head out the window.
I got a devilish look in my eyes and shook my head. "NEVER!" I called back. At least I was being honest.
"Oh, oh, I want some more. Oh, oh, what are you waiting fo-o-or? What are you waiting fo-o-or? Take a bite of my heart tonight." I sang, though in a much quieter register than before. Of all the songs to get stuck in my head, it had to be this one. The lyrics didn't make any sense and the beat was only so-so.
I waltzed into the lobby, the doorman asleep at his post. I contemplated pranking him for old times' sake but ultimately decided to put it off for a bit. When under an influence my pranks became a little more on the illegal and hard to deal with side. I tip-toed behind the desk and swiftly buzzed open the door to the elevator with all the covertness of a true invisible ninja. My keys were somewhere but I didn't feel like a) looking for them and b) wasting my finely honed and, not to mention stealthy, ability to play by my own rules.
Unfortunately, when I got inside the elevator and pressed the floor button, I tripped over my own two feet, wound up landing on my purse and accidentally pocket dialling a random stranger who shouted at me in a foreign language until I hung up. What a night. And the fun part hadn't even started yet.
A/N: Was everyone hopelessly OOC? Was it the best fic you've ever read! I don't know if you don't tell me! And what better was then with a review? Hint: There is not a better way!
By the way. I hope Sam's stint in the club was accurate and that her drinking was actually as it would happen in real life. Being 14, I've never really experienced it so I hope it made sense!
Thanks everyone for reading my first iCarly fic, I've been dying to post one forever and I hope this one doesn't label me an iCarly noob. I'm a huge fan of the show and ship Seddie in a way that is dangerous to both my education and my health, LOL. I'm usually a pretty slow updater but reviews always give me a reason to write faster! I'm SO sorry I haven't updated my other stories in forever! If you follow any of them, I love you and I'm so sorry! I've had some family issues that I've had to get through and just an overall stressed couple of months. It's no excuse, I know, but it's the best I've got.
Please, please, please press that adorable little review button! It's definitely appreciated!
Also, if you're looking for some good iCarly fics, check out Waffles of Doom, KWilson (iShakespeare is beast but it's super long! I love it, but not for those lovers of simple one-shots!), Basco57 (My Couch is again the same thing but one of my favourite fics), AshleeSeddie's stuff is really cute and hilarious, Virgoleo23 and aussiegal18!
There are any more and I don't mean to limit the great ones to just them, but those are some great authors I've been reading recently! Anyway, it's late so I'd better get going if I want to function like an actual human being tomorrow...
Hope you liked it and I'll update as soon as I can!
-EmilyHelene