Aloha my beautiful readers and reviewers! Thanks for all the great feedback from the first chapter of iSmile For The Cameras! It was great to hear that, well, you guys didn't think my story sucked.

Here's the second chapter. Please tell me what you think, et cetera, et cetera.

Disclaimer: *sigh* Unfortunately, no, I still don't own iCarly.

Freddie wasn't usually one to slack off during class. He was never bored, and on the rare chance that he was antsy to leave the class, he didn't let it affect him. However, sitting in his seventh period photography class with only five minutes left, he looked more eager for school to end than anyone. He was tapping his pencil rapidly against the side of his desk, and as he let out another heavy sigh, the guy next to him, Jake, looked at his friend in concern.

"Man, are you okay?"

Freddie jumped and looked at Jake, "Yeah, I'm fine,"

"If you say so," Jake rolled his eyes and went back to looking at his camera. Freddie sighed again, more subtly this time, though. He was definitely not okay. Today he was planning on following Sam to see where she kept disappearing. Only five minutes and he would be in spy-mode. He knew that if Sam caught him, he would be dead.

When the bell rang, Freddie was out the door and in front of his locker more quickly than anyone else. He threw in his unneeded books, grabbed some of his binders, and walked over to Carly, who was chatting with Gibby and Wendy. When he approached, Carly pulled him aside.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She hissed, searching to make sure that Sam didn't suddenly appear. "I mean, this is Sam we're talking about. If she finds out what you're doing, she'll do much worse than just kill you,"

"Thanks for the support, Carly," Freddie muttered sarcastically, "But yeah, I'm gonna do it. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

Carly simply stared at him for a moment, "You are a good deal braver than I am. Then again, you do have a crush on her," Before Freddie could process what Carly had just said, she was gone, chasing after Wendy and Gibby. He walked over to Sam's locker and waited for about ten minutes. Where is she? He wondered. Sam was never late to her locker. 'The sooner I'm out of this prison the better' she'd always say. Freddie looked around anxiously and saw Rip-Off Rodney scamming a few freshmen and hurried over to him while the freshmen left.

"Hey, Rodney, do you know where Sam is?" He asked. Rodney looked at Freddie in slight surprise.

"She left right after lunch in fourth period. We have math together,"

Freddie mentally cussed but pressed Rodney for the details, "Did someone come to get her?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it," Rodney replied thoughtfully, scratching the back of his head, "Tall dude in a real fancy suit with freaking awesome shades. He didn't say why he was taking her though," Rodney suddenly looked at Freddie with curiosity, "Why do you ask?"

"We're supposed to st-study together today," Freddie stuttered, his lie obviously fake. Rodney cocked an eyebrow at him, but shrugged as Freddie scurried away. Almost instantaneously, Wendy appeared next to him.

"Hey Rodney," She started in a sugary tone, "Who was Freddie looking for?"

"Sam Puckett," Rodney replied, looking absentmindedly at some of his merchandise, "It was weird to. He was really set on finding her, and then he fed me some BS lie about then supposedly studying together today. Like Sam would put the effort in to actually study,"

Wendy was staring off into the distance, the familiar spark of a new juicy tidbit of gossip in her eyes. "Freddie and Sam, eh?" She grinned to herself, "No one's gonna believe this!" And with that, she dashed away.

.

.

.

"Hey guys?" Sam called as she entered the Shay's apartment. It was five o'clock, and rehearsal was supposed to start at four forty-five, but she couldn't exactly get out of the plans that she had. She threw her bag into the corner of the living room and looked around warily at the dead silent room. She cupped her hands around her mouth and gave another echoing shout, "GUYS!"

"WE'RE UP HERE, SAM!" She heard Carly yell back from the studio. Sam sighed and started up the staircase. Her feet felt heavy, and she wanted nothing more that to curl up on the couch and fall asleep…maybe eat some ham too…but her damn agent told her that she couldn't gain any weight right now, and ham was bad for her. Hello? She thought to herself, Does he not realize that I have the metabolism of an elephant?

When she entered the studio, she found Carly and Freddie sitting in the bean bag chairs, Carly holding a notebook while they discussed ideas for the upcoming iCarly. When Sam walked through the studio door, the two looked up immediately and looks of relief flashed across their faces. Sam was slightly perplexed by this, but kept up her nonchalant demeanor.

"'Sup, peeps," She dropped her bag next to the remaining empty bean bag, which the then flopped into.

"Sam! You made it!" Carly smiled genuinely. Freddie frowned slightly as he noticed the bags under Sam's eyes, and the way her fingers were trembling.

"I was in the neighborhood," She waved her hand absentmindedly, but Freddie still didn't believe her. "So, what do we have planned,"

"Well, do you remember how we've gotten all those letters from fans lately who have been calling us internet celebrities or whatever?"

"We have?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Freddie rolled his eyes, "Continue, Carly,"

"Anyway," Carly obliged, "Freddie and I thought that it would be funny to do a skit targeting celebrities. You know, stuck up actresses and snobby models and such,"

Sam stared at Carly with wide eyes, "Models?" She asked weakly, "And…actresses?"

"Yeah," Carly's smile faded as Sam continued to refuse to smile, "Why, is something wrong?"

"No," Sam shook her head quickly, as though trying to clear her mind, "No, that…that's great. Really funny," She smiled, a fake smile, Freddie noticed. "Do you have script or anything yet?"

Freddie watched Sam carefully as Carly explained the plotline of the skit. She nodded every once and a while, and gave the occasional "Okay," and "Sounds good," when Carly paused. Still, her eyes were glassy and glazed over, and she still looked exhausted.

"So," Carly finished, "What do you think?" Sam was still staring at her, though, clearly zoned out. "Sam," Carly waved a hand in front of Sam's face, and the blonde jumped.

"Sounds cool," Sam told Carly, and Carly smiled, looking pleased with herself.

"Okay, now we just need to figure out what we're gonna do for our opening and closing segments," Freddie piped up. The three sat for a minute in silence until Sam jumped.

"Well, since it's fall and we have to advertise Halloween, we should bring that into our opening and closing,"

"Okay," Carly, smiled slightly, obviously brainstorming.

"I like it," Freddie nodded, grinning at Sam.

"How about-" Carly started, but she was cut off by the loud ringing of Sam's cell phone. It was playing 'Bad Reputation by Joan Jett; a fitting song. Sam jumped and hastily unzipped her bag, digging through it and pulling out her cell. She looked at the contact and her eyes widened.

"Hello?" She answered the call in a suddenly smooth, mature voice. Freddie and Carly glanced at each other in mild shock. They could hear indistinguishable talking coming from the other line and Sam stood up and walked to the other side of the studio. Freddie tried to listen to her, but Carly tapped him and pointed to Sam's bag. Some shimmering black fabric, knitted cream fabric, and flowing white silk. Freddie looked at Carly in confusion. She put her finger to her lips and reach forward, gently pulling the black fabric out of the bag. The two looked at it for a moment until Carly looked at Freddie, her face reflecting complete confusion.

"Freddie," She hissed, "It's a dress,"

"Okay, Jim," Sam was walking towards them, eyes glued to the ground. Carly jumped and hastily shoved the sparkly black dress back into the bag, "Okay. Thank you, I'll be right there,"

Sam shut her phone and turned to face her two best friends, who were trying to look nonchalant, and failing, Freddie guessed, and she ran her fingers through her long hair.

"What's up?" Carly asked, her eyes flickering towards the bag, where she could still see the various fabrics of multiple dresses.

"I-I have to go," Sam stuttered. Freddie was shocked. Usually, Freddie didn't know whether Sam was telling the truth or not, but here, it was obvious that she was groping for some sort of excuse.

"Where?" He asked.

"Uh…" She stuttered, grabbing her bag, "Just…somewhere," And with that she was out of the door.

.

.

.

When Sam's alarm went off in the morning, a stream of murderous ploys ran across her fuzzy brain. Her arm shot out and she fumbled for the snooze button. Instead, she knocked her alarm clock off of her nightstand. Her icy blue eyes opened with ferocity and she threw her covers off of her body, sitting up quickly. Sam grabbed the alarm clock and rested it back on the nightstand. Thankfully, the beeping had stopped, but the clock also seemed to be completely broken. Great.

Sam looked longingly back at her bed, which had lately become somewhat of a foreign place to her and groaned. The photo shoot last night had taken place in central Seattle, like many often did, but it ran until one in the morning, and she didn't get back until two-thirty. Sam forced herself to stand up and she looked around her room. The walls were lilac, and covered with various posters of rock banks and surf or skating brands. One wall she had decorated with her own personal graffiti, and all of her furniture was cherry red. Sam walked over to her large closet and opened it. Her closet was nearly bigger than her small room, thanks to all of her photo shoots. She bypassed the glamorous dresses and expensive designer clothes, turning instead to her trusty collection of board shorts, hoodies, skinny jeans, and graphic tees. She grabbed her 'Parole Baby' Penny T, grey skinny jeans, and bright orange converse with a teal and grey striped hoodie before heading to her bathroom. Three huge makeup sets were positions on a shelf above her mirror. She only touched them when she had a job, other than that, they remained untouched. Instead, Sam simply fixed her hair, threw one some mascara, and headed out of her room, dragging her back pack with her.

Her mom was already awake, drinking her first of what would be many cups of coffee that day while she watched the morning news. She was wearing a silk robe, and dark eyeliner and sparkly eye shadow were still smudged under her eyelids. Sam peered out of the window and saw an unfamiliar car in their driveway.

"What's his name?" Sam asked, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice. Pam glanced up at her daughter and turned back to the TV with a knowing sigh.

"Harold," She answered. Sam rolled her eyes and gabbed a low fat protein bar from the pantry, Jim's orders. "Now I know what you're thinking, Sammy, but Harold's different,"

"You say that about all of them," Sam shot back heading towards the door. Having strange men in her house mornings after her mom spent a night out on the town wasn't uncommon.

"But Harold's sweet, and he's a doctor, he might be able to take care of us and-"

"Just save it," Sam shut her up, hurrying out of the house and slamming the door roughly behind her. As she passed the alleged Harold's car, she kicked the door roughly, leaving a smudge on the shiny white finish. She pulled out her trusty purple iPod nano and turned on her Relient K playlist. She was almost at Ridgeway when her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. Sam jumped, her ear buds flying out of her ears and dangling above the sidewalk as she hastily peered at the screen. Jim Connolly flashed back at her. Sam sighed, knowing that she probably had another shoot to do that afternoon. The main reason she checked the caller ID so thoroughly was so that she knew whether to answer in her 'Sam the Delinquent' voice or 'Sam the Model-slash-Actress-slash-Singer voice'.

"Hello" She greeted Jim smoothly, all traces of exhaustion gone.

"Sam, good morning,"

"Good morning, Jim," She replied in a joking tone. Jim was a great agent, even if he was a bit stuffy sometimes; he did, overall, have a relatively good sense of humour, though. "What's up?"

"I have a job set up for you today," He told her, "And I think you're going to love it,"

"Who's it for?" She asked, the tell tale excitement creeping up on her.

"Juicy Couture's new scent," Jim replied with excitement. Sam held the phone away from her ear for a moment and punched the air with her free fist, whisper-shouting 'Yes!', before putting her cell back to the side of her face.

"Where is it and what time should I be there?" Sam asked the familiar questions.

"I'll send someone by to pick you up," Jim replied.

"Can you send Francisco?" Sam requested.

"Why?"

"One, his car always has Izze Sodas in it, and the good flavors too. You know those are my weakness. Second, his name is Francisco, which is just plain fun to say,"

Jim laughed, a loud, bellowing, good-natured laugh, "I'll see what I can do. He's going to have to pick you up from your school, though,"

Sam bit her lip. That would be the second time this week that she would be skipping school for a shoot. But this was Juicy Couture! It could be crucial to her career.

"Okay, what time?"

"About one thirty,"

"Deal,"

"We'll see you there, Sam,"

"See you there, Jim,"

She hung up and the phone and sighed. At least if the shoot was over, she might be able to get home and get some sleep for a change. Sam looked at her phone and gasped when she saw that she was pushing her time; she jogged up the school entryway and to her locker, where Sam and Freddie were already standing with Gibby and Shane.

"Aloha, my peeps," She greeted them, dropping her back pack on the ground and opening her locker by kicking it.

"Hey, Sam," Freddie smiled at Sam, glad to see that she genuinely seemed pleased to see them.

"Oh my gosh, guys!" An excited squeal came from behind them. They turned to see Wendy running up to them, beaming.

"Wendy, what's wrong?" Carly asked immediately.

"Nothing!" She continued, smiling, "Absolutely nothing is wrong, it's great!"

"What are you going on about," Sam drawled, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

"I just found out the most amazing news!" She gushed.

"Miss Briggs is fired?" Gibby suggested, his face lighting up.

"They're serving fried chicken every day at lunch?" Sam glanced at Wendy hopefully.

"No," Wendy shushed them, "I just heard from Kelsey Harkins, who's a member of the school senate, and she says that there's going to be a Halloween Dance!"

She and Carly squealed, while, Freddie, Shane, Gibby, and Sam just looked at each other in confusion.

"A dance?" Shane asked, "On Halloween?"

"I believe that's what the term 'Halloween Dance' implies, Shane," Sam told him. Wendy ignored Sam's sardonic comment and answered Shane.

"Yeah! It's going to start at nine and go till one in the morning, and everyone's supposed to come in costume.,"

"Cool," Gibby grinned, looking around at the group.

"Sounds…interesting…"Freddie glanced and slyly at Sam, and they both snickered. Wendy looked annoyed for a moment, but she shook her hair and grinned triumphantly.

"Well I think it's going to be awesome," She announced, "I'm gonna go tell everyone else. See ya at lunch!" She waved and hurried over to the nearest group of students, who a moment later were all squealing in delight.

"Ugh," Sam suddenly groaned, rolling her eyes as she slammed her locker and picked up her back pack.

"What," Freddie smirked, "Princess Puckett doesn't like dances?"

"For once, Freddoofus, you are actually right about something," She smirked slightly, her trademark side grin and walked past him, her shoulder brushing against his chest, sending shivers up and down his spine. He looked down at his feet to hide his blushing face. Suddenly, the bell rang. Sam continued to make her way down the hallway, when Gibby stopped her.

"Wait, Sam, we have Algebra this way," She pointed down the hall in the other direction. Sam rolled her eyes.

"I know," She told him, "I'm not an idiot, Gib,"

"Then where are you going?"

"Today's Fried Chicken Friday," She told him like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm gonna go get some for Algebra. Maybe that will make the class a bit more interesting. Gibby looked at her retreating form and turned back to the group.

"I feel bad for whoever gets the nerve up to ask Sam out," He shook his head slowly, "No guy will ever be able to figure that out,"

"Freddie," Shane nudged the tech wiz, "Are you coming? We have Chemistry, and you know how much O'Connell hates late comers," Shane then grinned, "Unless you want to tell her that you were late because you couldn't stop staring at Sam Puckett,"

"Sh-Shut up," Freddie replied, a scarlet blush creeping up his face as he watched Sam prance down the hallway, strutting as though it was a runway and she was the model. Suddenly, he noticed that a paper had fluttered out off her bag and landed a foot away from him. Freddie leaned down and picked it up, shoving it in his back pack. Meanwhile Carly watched him with a bemused look. I have got to get them together for the Dance, she thought while she and Gibby headed towards Algebra.

.

.

.

Freddie tapped his pencil anxiously on his desk. Even though it was only one o'clock, he couldn't wait for school to be over. After his failed attempt to follow Sam, he was praying that she wouldn't get pulled out of school early again.

"Freddie?" Mr. Spencer, their history teacher broke through Freddie's nervous concentration.

"Yes?" He asked, jumping slightly.

"Do you have your essay?" Mr. Spencer asked, looking slightly concerned. Freddie jumped and grabbed the small stack of papers from his binder before handing it to the middle aged teacher, who nodded and walked away.

"Wow, nub, I thought you weren't gonna turn it in for a second there," A sarcastic voice came from behind him. Freddie turned to see Sam, smirking at him. Only a few minutes were left in class and Mr. Spencer had given the students free range to talk. Sam walked over and sat on the top of Freddie's desk, propping her feet up on the desk next to his.

"I notice that you never turned your essay in,"

"Right you are, Fredmonger,"

"Fredmonger?" Freddie raised his eyebrow at Sam, a smirk on his face.

"Would you prefer Fredwina?"

"Point taken,"

Freddie opened his mouth, preparing to casually ask her if she was going to be at Carly's that night when Mr. Spencer appeared behind Sam and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Miss Puckett?" He started, "It's one-twenty right now,"

"Oh," Sam's eyes darted to the clock, "Oh yeah. I'd better head out,". She jumped off of Freddie's desk and grabbed her own back pack from her desk while Freddie watched her, his eyes growing wide and his mouth gaping.

"Are you leaving?" Freddie stuttered as Sam swung her backpack over her shoulder.

"Yup, so I'll see ya later, nub" She replied, looking at him as though the fact was obvious. She strode over to the door with her practiced air of confidence.

"Where are you going?" Freddie asked her, but Sam ignored him and left the classroom.

"She's been acting so strange lately," Shane commented, half to Freddie, half to himself. Freddie's brow furrowed in concern. "Do you know why?"

"Why would I know?" Freddie asked in a melancholy voice .

"Well, you two are best friends," Shane laughed. Freddie felt his heart rate increase. He forced out a laugh and then looked the other way, disappointed that his demon of a best friend had once again escaped his grasps.

.

.

.

"CARLS! ARE YOU IN HERE!" Sam yelled as she stepped into the Shay's apartment. She took a final furious scrub at her eyes in an effort to get the shimmery eye shadow off of her face.

"I'm in the kitchen, Sam," Carly laughed, poking her head out from crouched behind the kitchen counter.

"Food?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Soon," Carly laughed as Sam walked slowly towards her and leaned tiredly against the island. Carly straightened up with a pot in her hand, which she filled with water and poured a box of spaghetti into. "Spencer told me to start up the noodles for spaghetti pasta. Sound good?"

"Yeah, awesome," Sam sighed, resisting the urge to close her eyes and fall asleep right at the counter. Carly glanced at her and did a double take.

"Oh my gosh, Sam, are you okay? You look exhausted,"

"Nailed it," Sam groaned.

"Well, go relax on the couch. We can watch Celebrities Underwater,"

"But you hate Celebrities Underwater," Sam pointed out as Carly led her to the couch.

"It's not that bad," Carly lied obviously. Sam ignored this and gratefully collapsed on the couch, leaning her head on Carly's shoulder. The girl's watched Girly Cow after that while they ate their spaghetti tacos, and then Carly suggested that they watch a movie.

"What movie?"

"I don't know," Carly muttered, pondering their choices.

"Abnormally Scary Activity?" Sam suggested, and Carly shuddered.

"How about not something that'll make me pee my pants,"

"Wuss," Sam rolled her eyes, but smiled. Carly scanned her and Spencer's large collection of DVD's until her finger froze above a certain title. She might kill me…Carly thought Meh, why not! I like this movie. Carly pulled the movie out and popped it into the DVD player. Skipping through the previews, Carly could hear Sam polishing off her third fruit Kabob. With the enthusiasm that she was putting into eating, Carly would have guessed that the girl had been starved for the past few weeks.

"Uh…" Sam's voice was suddenly present as the main menu of the movie came up, "Please telling me this is a joke,"

"What?" Carly asked innocently, "I thought you liked this movie,"

"The First Kiss?" Sam exclaimed, gesturing wildly at the screen with a look of incredulous disgust and…apprehension perhaps? "This movie blows! Remember? We saw it when-"

"-Yes?" Carly smirked wickedly, and Sam's face grew red. Stop blushing, Puckett, get a hold of yourself.

"Nothing," Sam muttered, gnawing on the empty kabob stick

"When you and Freddie kissed?" Carly suggested in a would-be casual tone. Sam glared at her.

"Carls, you are treading into some pretty dangerous waters," Sam growled. They weren't even paying attention to the beginning of the movie.

"Why so defensive?"

"Why so curious?" Sam shot back.

"Free country," Was Carly's simple answer as she turned back to the screen and took a sip from her juice pouch. Mmm, Tropical Punch, her favorite. Sam glowered at her from the other side of the couch for another minute before turning grudgingly back to the movie.

By the end of the movie, Carly was in tears. An ecstatic smile was plastered on her face, and tears were openly pouring down her cheeks. She was perched on the edge of the couch, squeezing her now-empty juice pouch in a death grip between her hands. This movie is adorable, she thought. The words 'The End' appeared on the screen in curly-cue font, and Carly sighed, wiping the tears from her eyes. How is Sam holding herself together? She wondered, turning towards her unusually quiet best friend before laughing. Sam was laying on her side, breathing deeply and softly, fast asleep. Carly giggled again as she stood up, changed to TV to the Food Channel, put the remaining food debris away, and turned back to the couch. She tossed a blanket over Sam, being neither willing enough nor brave enough to disturb the slumber of the fatigued teen. As Carly stepped quietly up the stairs, a small frown appeared on her face. She had meant to ask Sam what was going on, and why she was so exhausted, but had been caught up by the drama of Sam's elusiveness when it came to the subject of the kiss.

Oh well, Freddie was determined enough to find out what was wrong. The boy was crazy in love with Sam anyways.

.

.

.

Freddie slowly opened the door of the Shay's apartment, having used the spare key that they hid in the fake plant next to their door. The living room was dark, lit only by the glowing of the TV. Freddie crept forward quietly and looked around. He had thought that Sam was staying at Carly's that night, or at least he thought Carly had mentioned that at lunch. Sure enough, there was Sam, passed out on the couch. Freddie walked forward and stared at her for a moment, not even taking in the thought of how creepy this must seem. One of her arms was tucked up to her chest, gripping the blanket that covered the rest of her body, and the other arched off of the couch, her fingertips inches from the ground. Her long hair cascaded off of the couch in a waterfall of golden curls, and her face was peaceful. Sam never looked peaceful, ever.

"Sam," Freddie hissed, nudging her shoulder slightly, "Sam, wake up, come on,"

Sam whimpered wearily and shifted slightly. As Freddie persisted with his shoving, she stirred more and opened her eyes, blinking them rapidly as she took in the situation. She then jumped up, eyes fiery with anger.

"Fredwad, what the hell are you doing!" She growled, shoving her fist in his face. Freddie backed up several feet, shaking his head in surrender.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted to do Wake Up Spencer tonight," He shrugged, holding up his small camcorder. Sam groaned and flopped back down on the couch in exhaustion.

"Not tonight, Frednub," She mumbled sleepily.

"Why not?"

"Too tired," Was her response. Freddie's look of concern deepened. Like always, he felt the need to protect her. In a sudden rush of ferocity, he grabbed her shoulder's and pulled her gently but firmly up into a sitting position. Sam's eyes were wide and shocked; nobody manhandled her like that…because nobody ever dared to try.

"Sam," Freddie started in a serious tone, "What is up with you lately?"

"What do you mean, what's up with me?" Sam asked, shrugging her shoulder in indifference.

"You're exhausted all the time, you skip school, you seem distracted and stressed, and you've been acting so differently lately. You're really shifty and weird and you don't…you don't talk to me anymore…"

The last part of Freddie's short rant decreased to a whisper, and Sam felt sudden tension amount between them. Her body was stiff; she didn't like emotional confrontation like this, and Freddie knew that; emotions were too risky.

"I talk to you," Sam tried desperately to keep the fight in her voice, "I mean…we're talking right now…" She ended weakly.

"Yeah, because I broke into Carly's apartment at three-thirty in the morning and forced you," He retaliated.

"I see you at school," Sam pointed out, racking her brains to get him off the topic.

"Yeah, but it's not the same!" Freddie nearly yelled, catching Sam by surprise. It was very rare that Freddie participated in verbal confrontation such as this; he preferred to let things smooth over. "Sam, I feel like you're keeping things from Carly, and from me! We used to tell each other things, and the fact that you're just being so secretive is…eerie. Look, I know there are plenty of things that you don't tell me, but I thought we had a better relationship that this. I thought we were done with the sneaking around and lying,"

"Lying is my specialty," Sam grinned slightly, "And what are you talking about with all this 'stuff I haven't told you' crap. You know everything about me, practically,"

"Oh yeah?" Freddie challenged.

"Yeah!" Sam countered, "You could ask me anything and I could tell you,"

"Fine," Freddie faced her with an unfamiliar tint of fire in his chocolate eyes, "Tell me about your dad,"

It was obvious that Sam was completely unprepared for this question. Her eyebrows shot up, and her eyes widened; they were filled with emotions that Freddie had never seen associated with Sam; Fear, sadness, regret, despair. All there, right in her wondrous gemstone eyes. Her face fell, and she looked down at her hands.

"I'm sorry," She muttered after an eternity, and it took all of Freddie's willpower for him to now gasp, "You're right. I guess…" She looked him dead in the eyes, "Look, it's really difficult for me to trust people. A lot of chiz had happened to me that made me really…abrasive, and I just…" Her voice became passionate with hysteria, "I can't tell you that,"

Freddie sighed, "I understand. I really do. Just know that whenever you're ready to talk," He patted her leg, "I'm here,"

"You'd better watch that hand if you wanna keep it," Sam replied, back in full-sarcastic swing. Freddie whipped away his hand, which was still resting on her thigh.

"Right, sorry," He then smiled, "Thanks for telling me all that, Sam,"

"Why exactly did I tell all of that to you?" She asked in regret, rolling her eyes.

"Because face it," Freddie started, standing up and heading for the door, "Even though you say you hate me, and I say I hate you, we are best friends,"

Sam sat for a moment, taking in his words, and Freddie walked to the door. He was closing it behind him when something stopped it. Freddie turned to see Sam staring at him with a burning intensity, and his heart swooped.

"If you ever tell anyone this, I'll deny it," She started fiercely, but sighed, letting her tough façade slip away for a brief moment, "You are my best friend," She looked down at her feet, and then up at him, "I thought I should let you know,"

"Thanks, Puckett," He smiled. As he was about to disappear through his own apartment door, she stopped him again.

"Benson," The rough voice was back, the glimpse of the girl behind the mask was gone, not that Freddie disliked rough Sam over sensitive Sam. He turned.

"Yes, Princess Puckett?"

She smiled, a genuine smile. Rare smiled on Sam were rare indeed, "One day, one day soon, I'll tell you about my dad. And anything else you wanna know,"

"I look forward to it," He replied. Her smile then disappeared, turning to a look of annoyance.

"Now do me a favor and save me the agony of looking at your face for another second, nub!" She spat, before disappearing into the Shay's apartment, slamming the door behind her. Freddie chucked, staring at the door for another minute, before he realized how badly he wanted her to come back. He shook his head and disappeared inside, thoughts still on the girl who had just admitted to being his best friend.

.

.

.

Am I the only one who can't stop watching the promo for iLost My Mind? Literally, I'm obsessed with it.

Review please! I love you all XD