A week. He'd been back in school for a week. The whole hero business had spread like wildfire, a fact he was not a fan of. He'd told both of the girls to knock it off, he wasn't a hero, and they had finally stopped saying it. But that hadn't stopped the rest of the school. Everywhere he went girls stared at him and asked if they could sign his casts. He always said thanks, but no thanks. He was good with leaving them blank. He didn't want the signatures of strangers surrounding him, especially if they were only there because they thought he was some kind of hero.
It was hard for him to get around school. He wasn't very fast on his crutches, especially considering one of his arms was broken. Carly mostly helped him around, carrying a couple of his books that he couldn't fit in his backpack. He had been raised a gentlemen, so he felt bad. He should be the one carrying her books. She was happy to do it, she said, always with a smile. Gibby helped when Carly couldn't, and that was easier for him. Gibby too, was always happy to help. It felt weird, having his friends waiting on him all the time. Well, except for Sam. She'd helped once, that first day back. It had been awkward, since he had no idea if he'd dreamed that moment in the hospital. It was a mistake, bringing it up. She stopped halfway to their class when he asked.
"Sam, something's been bothering me."
"I'm not scratching your back. That's what Gibbies are for." she sounded disgusted.
"No, I meant… when I was in the hospital. There was a …discussion we had. About not hating each other and you thanked me, and told me I was a hero. Did…did I dream that….or what?"
She stopped cold at the word 'discussion'." I don't know what you're talking about, Fredifer."
"Are you sure? Because I thought…"
"You thought wrong." she snapped coldly, cutting him off. A girl with long black hair happened to walk by "Yo, chick. C'mere."
The girl came, because this was Sam Puckett, and nobody disobeys her. "Yeah?"
Sam shoved Freddie's books into the girl's hands, hard. "Here. Take him to room 116. ." and she stomped off in the opposite direction, even though they shared the next class.
Freddie said nothing; he knew there was no use.
"Oh my God!" the girl clutched his books to her chest. "You're Freddie, from iCarly. You're like, a hero!"
Freddie sighed and began to hobble forward, his thoughts only on Sam.
"Freddie. Freddie! Freddie!" Someone was shaking him. Carly.
"Huh?"
"You need to stop drifting off. You're gonna end up limping into a garbage can, and then you'll need more casts." she giggled at him, seeming to think her joke was funny.
"Yeah, sorry. It's just…" he considered asking her about Sam, why she was so distant, but decided against it. Carly would just tell Sam, and get her angrier. "…pain medication." he lied.
"Oh…" she paused for a moment. "Are you in a lot of pain?" her voice was almost…hopeful. Man was she a sucker for a humble hero. So why didn't he take advantage, and lie again?"
"Nah," Ok, that was true "My mom's making me take them. You know, just in case." And that wasn't.
"Oh." she said again. "Well alright then." she glanced down at her watch. "Shoot, bells about to ring. My class…" she gestured in the opposite direction of his.
"It's fine. I can make it from here."
"Sorry."
"Yeah." he took his books carefully, tucking them between his good arm and the crutch. He hobbled on to his class, one of the few he shared with Sam. History. Irony at its finest.
He took his seat next to her, as usual. She stared straight ahead, avoiding him.
"Hey, Sam."
She nodded, that's all he got these days.
No, he was tired of that.
"Sam, we need to talk." he said quietly as the bell rang.
"Nothing to talk about."
"I know I wasn't dreaming."
She said nothing. She simply stared forward. She didn't even bother pretending to take notes.
"Sam…"
Angrily, she stood up, shoving the desk away.
"Samantha!" shrieked from the front of the class. "Sit back down or face detention!"
"Then I guess I'll see you later." and she walked out. Freddie stared after her, confused as ever.
"Mr. Benson, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"
"Uh, not really." a few kids laughed, and the glare on ' face grew angrier.
"Excuse me?" she seemed shocked to hear him talk back, even the little bit he did.
"May I go to the nurse? I uh…have pain medication I need." he gestured to his broken arm.
"Very well." she allowed, knowing she couldn't keep him from the nurse. "Do you need help…?"
"No, I'll be back." and he hobbled out, no intention of seeing the nurse.
He made his way to his locker, where he'd been keeping his PearPad since he wasn't able to defend his backpack. He quickly typed in the Pear web address, tapping 'locate phone'. He knew Sam's password, he could easily find her, no matter where she was. As the device began to search, he heard a voice behind him.
"What'cha doing, nerd-boy?" he turned, and there she was, hands on hips, looking confident.
"Nerd-boy? What's got you so off your game?"
"Been a little distracted, Fredinstein. Oh look, I'm back." and she smiled evilly. She walked toward him, stopping at the locker next his and leaning against it on her right shoulder. "You wanted to talk so bad. Fine. Talk."
He took a deep breath and closed his locker door. "Was I dreaming?"
Her smile faltered. This wasn't going the way she thought. He was supposed to back down. "Next question."
"No. Just tell me if I dreamt that whole thing or not."
She swallowed hard. "No. It happened."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, oh."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she was losing it, fast.
"Just that I'm thinking."
She was quiet, for once in her life.
He was trying to process knowing for sure she thanked him and told him was a hero and that they didn't hate each other: It was a lot.
But she was impatient.
"What are you thinking?" she broke into his mind.
Now it was his turn to be quiet again.
After a moment, he spoke. "You thanked me."
"So?"
"You said you don't hate me."
"No I didn't." she said quickly.
"Fine, I said you don't and you didn't deny it."
"So?"
"You said I was a hero."
"So?"
"So you're Sam. You don't do that." he was still completely confused. This was supposed to help him. Why wasn't it?
She said nothing.
"Do you really think that?" he needed to know.
"I don't know." she said after a moment. "Maybe." She looked down at the pink tile floor. "You did save my life."
"I only did what-" he began the familiar argument.
"No, you did more. You prevented what a lot of people would have called a happy accident."
"Nobody would think that!"
"Yeah they would." she was resigned to it. "I know that. It doesn't bother me. I don't care what anybody else thinks, or says they think. The only thing that matters is that I know. And I know that's what people think of me, especially in this school."
He tried to look into her eyes, but they were cast down. "You don't care what anybody thinks?"
"Why should I?" she whispered, voice thick. She hated emotional confrontations.
"Then why are you pushing me to think I'm a hero? If it's only important that you know, why are you so adamant that I believe it too?"
Her head rose in anger, and he hoped she would blurt something out in frustration.
But she didn't.
She did, however, say, in a very calm, restricted voice, "I-I don't know."
"Sam…" he didn't know what he wanted to say. "There's gotta be a reason. You know it the same way I do."
"If you know so much, why haven't you figured it out yet?" her blue eyes matched her tone, hot, boiling.
"Because…"he paused, choosing his words carefully. "You're a complicated person. I have no idea what could possibly be going through your mind, because even though we've known each other forever, and I pretty much know you better than anyone else in my life, I never know what you're going to do. Everything is a surprise to me. That's why."
Sam turned, pressed her back against the lockers. Things had changed so fast, just a week. She hated him one minute, the next he was saving her life and she was thinking maybe she didn't hate him, but rather, that feeling in her stomach was denial.
"I want you to know you're a hero because you are one, even if you don't think so."
"I don't feel like a hero."He leaned back too, and they both stared down the hall, wondering what to say.
She was the first to break the silence. "Well you are one. To me."
The tension changed, from one of anger and sadness, to one of waiting. They knew what was coming. They knew from the moment they both began to turn toward each other. In every second that they leaned closer and closer, the tension built around them, melting all away the second their lips touched. Their eyes automatically closed, following pure instinct.
They had kissed before. The first kiss. For both of them. That had been different. Innocent, experimental. Done just 'to get it over with.' She had been wearing lip-gloss, cheery flavored. It was something Carly had started forcing her to do for iCarly. Apparently it was more professional. He had been drinking juice; she could taste it on his lips. They had both been nervous, scared. But also, at the same time, relieved. The waiting had been over; there would be no more embarrassment or lies if someone asked if they had ever been kissed. They could be done with hiding it
But this time? This time was different. There was no reason for it, except…it had been a long time coming. They could see it now. Of course. Sam and Freddie. In this moment, they ceased to exist. They were now one. That underlying chemistry had shown itself to both of them, in almost the same moment. She saw it first, although in fairness, she had been the one to deny it for two weeks. Longer, if she was being honest. Overtime, the hate had disappeared, day by day, until it was no longer there, and instead was replaced by a friendship that grew slowly to what she was feeling now. To him the friendship had been there all along, it was just crowded by hate, that, like it did with her, melted away as they grew closer.
They pulled away from one another. She was deathly silent, and a blush was creeping up his neck.
There was one similarity to their first kiss. The awkwardness that followed. She turned so that her back was once again against the lockers.
"That-that was…" he stuttered, desperate to fill the silence.
"Nice?" she repeated her words from their first kiss. He laughed, knowing exactly what she was referencing.
"Yeah. Nice." he paused, a smile on his face. "Good work." he quoted her with another laugh.
"You too." She slid closer to him, but was careful to keep a little distance. "Are we crazy?"
"Well, I don't know about me, but you've always been a little psychotic."
She tried not to chuckle, but failed. "You know what I mean."
"Maybe." this time he slid closer, touching his shoulder to hers and leaning with little weight on her. "But who says crazy isn't a good thing?"
She looked up at him, his words taking her by surprise. Before she could start to process what he could mean, the bell rang, and the hallway swarmed with students. Sam slid away from him quickly, almost embarrassed by their close proximity. She didn't need more rumors. "So." she wanted this conversation to be over, at least for now. They could talk another time. "How'd you get out of class, anyway?"
He understood what she was doing. H began to limp away, back toward their class. She followed, waiting for his answer. "I told her I needed to go to the nurse. Pain meds."
"Are you in pain?"
He paused. "Not anymore." she smiled, and tried to hide it. "Hey, you mind helping me with my stuff? Besides, you left yours when you walked out."
"Uh, yeah. No problem." They walked the rest of the way in silence, both wondering where this would go.
They happened to show up while was gone, presumably to go find Mr. Howard. She helped him load his backpack and took his books, and they left together, no longer in silence.
"When are you gonna heal so you don't have to hobble around, huh?"
"No idea. My mom won't tell me. She's afraid I'll get my hopes up, then be disappointed if it's not exactly right. Then, according to her logic, I might kill her in anger."
"Dude, your mom's the one who's psychotic. She's so paranoid."
"No, not really. I mean, I wouldn't do it over an extra week of being in casts, but..." he trailed off with a laugh, and she laughed too.
Neither one of them really knew what would happen. But it didn't matter. They'd figure it out in time.
