iLive with the Bensons

Carly is forced to move in with the Bensons when Spencer gets sick because Mrs. Benson is convinced Carly can't take care of herself. Read and Review.

Chapter One: iofficially hate Freddie's mom

"Hi, Spencer," I said as I walked up to his bed in the hospital. What was I supposed to say? "I hope you don't die or anything because it's Christmas?" His eyes were closed and I heard voices from behind the curtain on the other side of the room because Spencer had to share a room.

"Hi," said a nurse from behind a curtain. "Visiting hours ended ten minutes ago." Her brown hair fell over her eyes as she continued talking to the other patient, who had "a severe gunshot wound".

"I know, I just missed the bus from my house—" I tried to say, because it HAD been really hard for me to get there on time. But she was already gone to the other side ... of the curtain. The dark side.

Her head peeked from behind the curtain. She had heard me. "Visiting hours are over. You have to leave," said the nurse. Didn't she have better things to do than bother me? I wasn't bothering anyone, except maybe Spencer, but he wasn't saying anything.

"So soon—" I began, but the nurse pushed me out of the room while she said to Spencer sweetly,

"Is there anything else you need me to take care of?" "That is my sister you were talking to!" I wanted to hear, but instead I heard a faint, muffled,

"Go away."

"Hi, Carly," said Sam as she walked through my door. "Got any ham?" She twirled her blonde hair on her finger as she walked. She had price tags on her shirt—her mother must have gotten a new bikini.

Everyone knows how she tries it on for a while before deciding whether or not to take it back to the store.

"No ham. I haven't gone shopping," I said. I wasn't her personal catering service. "New bikini?"

"Yeah. Aren't you going to ask??" asked Sam as she opened my refrigerator and pulled some celery (that was supposed to be used for Spencer's sculpture). But that sculpture wasn't going to take its form by itself in my fridge.

"Ask what?" I was so out of it today because of that stupid, ugly nurse that ruined my whole day.

"'Sam, what are you doing at my house on Christmas?' Maybe??" said Sam. "Hey, where's Freddie?" Why did she care—she hated him, didn't she?

"He has to be with Mrs. Benson on Christm—" I began, but Sam cut me off. Mrs. Benson with presents—a scary thought. Note to self: Freddie had a bad day, too.

"Great! So, what, we have the place ... to ourselves??" says Sam, a huge smile exploding across her face. Trust me, when Sam smiles, it is NOT good (ever).

"Yeah, but my brother is trusting me—" I began to get the words out of my mouth. Spencer always trusted me—why would that fact mean crap to Sam?

"Oh, come on, Carly. We're just going up to the studio to come up with one more idea."

"For what?"

"Our show—you know." Where was my head today??

There was a knock on the door.

I got up from the couch and ran to answer it—could it be Spencer back already??

No. It was Freddie. "Hey." He sounded happy enough. Maybe he was used to having Christmas with his mom.

"Hey," I said. "What?"

"What?"

"What is it?" said Sam. She got up from the couch to get a banana. "Okay."

"My mom says—" began Freddie before my door opened (without a knock!).

"CARLY!" said Mrs. Benson, who had recently appeared before me. "I can't believe it that Spencer left you here all alone ... you just MUST stay with me while he gets better ... Freddie told me ... I just don't know what to do...."

"It's okay, Mrs. Benson."

"Oh!" she said. "I have the perfect idea. Carly—why don't you stay at hour house?"

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