Chapter 3
Nearly a week later, Carly had agreed to another date with Ricky and was telling Sam all about it as the girls walked back toward Bushwell after school.
"It's too bad Ricky's brother has a girlfriend. It would be so cool if we could double date."
"Thanks, but no thanks, Carls." Sam frowned.
"Aw, but you should see him. He's so cute he has the most adorable dimples. Seriously, if he breaks up with Beth, I'll try to set you up."
"I don't need to see his brother, they're twins. And dimples or no dimples, he's not my type. Neither of 'em. You know I'm not into athletic guys and honestly I'm surprised you're giving Mickey another shot. Seriously, he's got to be the biggest jock-ass in eleventh grade. Why are you dating a junior anyway? Seniors don't date under classmen."
"It's Ricky!" Carly snipped. "And he's not like that around me. He's really sweet. But I did have to warn him about keeping his hands off my bottom."
"And you're going out with him again? Really? You went out one time and he tried to grab your butt? If some guy pulled that on me I'd kick him in the nards so hard his dad would feel it."
"Hola, Senoritas." Freddie greeted, meeting them just outside the door of the building. It was all he could do to not stare at Sam with the tight top she was wearing, obviously it was a shirt she had bought before she filled out.
"Where are you off to? I thought we were going to go over the "what's that smell?" routine for the next iCarly as soon as we got back." Carly glared at him, like she always did when he was doing something that was not specifically for her.
"I just have to run down to Wrong Aid and pick up something for my mom. I'll be right back."
"Aw, relax, Carls. He probably just needs to get some tampons or something." Sam cracked. She couldn't help but tease Freddie, even if she really, really liked him. It was a good cover, too.
"Actually I have to pick up her prescription for rash powder." He informed them with an eye roll, like that was much better. "Want me to get some snacks while I'm out?"
"Sam! Do you have to be so crude." Carly scolded. "Spencer made salsa last night, so pick up some corn chips and hurry back."
"And fat cakes. Don't you dare return without mama's fat cakes. Two packs." Sam added with a flirty smile, unseen by Carly. "Just for me."
Freddie couldn't say no to the blonde even if she taunted him and he knew how much she adored the fatty, sweet cakes. How this girl stayed so thin and had such a figure the way she ate was almost impossible to explain.
Carly continued admonishing Sam as they walked across the lobby toward the elevator. "Why do you have to make cracks like that about poor Freddie just because he helps his mom? What kind of mother would send her teenage son to pick up her tampons, anyway?"
Sam simply kept up the ruse of Freddie bashing. "Oh, I didn't mean tampons for her. I meant for him."
"Sa-am!"
"What? He's just as likely to need 'em as you and I do." Sam didn't particularly think of Freddie as feminine, only terribly hen-pecked by his overbearing mother, but she did enjoy busting his chops. This was also a convenient cover for her true feelings in front Carly.
Carly just shook her head and the two girls boarded the elevator.
Freddie returned and the trio sat around making final plans for the next web show while snacking on Spencer's salsa and the corn chips. When they had everything worked out and their homework done, Carly made a trip downstairs to check on dinner since the other two teens were eating with her and Spencer and Sam was already complaining about being hungry, despite polishing off more fat cakes than one human should ever consume at one sitting.
"I don't know if you heard, but Carly made another date with what's-his-face for Saturday night. I don't even have to use the excuse it took me over an hour to cook up so we can go out again."
"Sheesh, what does she see in him?" He asked. "Other than the obvious. You know, perfect teeth, chiseled jaw, dark complexion, co-captain of the basketball team. But he's such a tool. Him and his brother both. Plus he's a junior."
"Yeah. Losers." Sam agreed. "So where did you want to go? I heard about this new restaurant down by the mall. You place your order on a pear-pad and then some robot brings it out to your table. The whole joint is totally automated and there's only, like, one person working in the whole place. The robots clean the tables and everything."
"Wow. Sounds cool. I'll bet they have an awesome wi-fi signal." He responded.
"So, Saturday at six?" She suggested.
"Yep. Wanna meet at my place?" He suggested. "We'll have to take the bus. You know, since my mom won't trust me to drive down town, even though I've been driving for over a year."
"Right. And my mom's car sucks and is always broken down." She nodded. "By the way, thanks for helping with that algebra. It actually made sense the way you explained it."
"Sure, Sam." He smiled back. "And if you ever need help with history or English or whatever, I can go over it with you."
Carly interrupted their moment. "Spencer says dinner will be ready ten minutes. Are you two actually being civil to each other? I didn't hear any shouting and nothing is broken."
"I was just thanking Freddie for helping me with the algebra homework. He might be a nub but he's pretty good at math." Sam ruffled his hair.
"Thanks, Sam. I think." He responded, smoothing down his hair.
Saturday arrived and Carly was busy preparing for her big date. Freddie was at home doing the same thing. Even though he and Sam had known each other for years, he couldn't help but be a little nervous about taking a girl out for a second time. He hadn't been on that many first dates, let alone second ones.
"You going home, Sam?" Carly asked, seeing Sam begin to gather her things. "I figured you'd just hang here."
"Yeah. You can call and give me the play by play later." Sam said as she headed for the door. "See ya tomorrow. Have fun with Dicky."
"It's Ricky!" The brunette huffed as Sam walked away.
Sam went straight across the hall and knocked at the Bensons' door. Much to her disappointment, Mrs. Benson answered and gave her a nasty look.
"Samantha? What do you want?" She looked the girl up and down as if she were inspecting for vermin.
"I was just here to, uh, see Freddie, um I mean, to see what he's up to." One thing was certain she wasn't going to confess to this woman that she was going out to dinner with Freddie. She didn't need to know they were dating. Not now, possibly not ever.
"Wait by the door. I'll tell him you're here." Mrs. Benson instructed. "Don't step off the tile with your filthy shoes on. I'll have to mop, now. You and your germs in my apartment."
Sam rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to spit on the floor just to wazz the nurse off.
Freddie came out the hall, dressed slightly better than Sam expected but still very casually. After explaining to his mother that he was going to be hanging out with Sam, the blonde's slightly untruthful additions to the story about homework and studying, and relentless questioning by the middle aged woman, the two finally got to leave for their second date.
"Man, that was like the French Inquisition." Sam remarked once the elevator door closed.
"You mean the Spanish Inquisition?"
"Eh, French, Spanish, German, whatever. I just know your mom should work for the CIA. And I've been meaning to ask you, why does she have plastic paths taped down all over the floor?"
"That's where you're supposed to walk. It's kinda fun sliding around on them sometmes, like ice skating." Freddie laughed and took Sam's hand. They walked to the end of the block and waited for the bus to take them to the restaurant.
They ended up waiting in line to even get in the place, Sam complaining the whole time. "This better be good after waiting for so long." She cracked once they finally sat down and placed their order.
The restaurant was packed but lucky for them, they didn't recognize anyone in the place so it wasn't necessary to put on the act of hating each other. After their meal, they headed off to the mini golf place to practice their putting and then walked back toward Bushwell, holding hands, laughing at random things and having a good time.
"So, Sam. I, uh wanted to ask you something." He started a bit nervously as they walked. "Would you ever . . ., I know we've had some pretty good times the last couple of weeks and I just, um . . . W - would you maybe want to consider, um, uh, being my girlfriend? Maybe. Some day?"
"You mean like date each other exclusively?" She questioned.
Poor Freddie, nervously kept trying to sell the idea. "It's OK, Sam. If you don't want to, I understand. It's just that we've been really having fun and . . ."
"Yeah." She said quietly, almost shyly.
"And it's not like either of us are really seeing anyone else. At least I haven't been, an - and I really like you and . . ." He kept talking before realizing she said yes. "Wait, did you mean yeah you'd be my girlfriend?"
"Uh-huh. But we need to set some ground rules."
"Alright."
"One, no lovey-dovey PDA, texting kissy faces or posting stupid, cheesy pictures on Splashface or Instant Wall or whatever. That kind of chiz is just gross."
"Agreed." Freddie responded. "People that do that kind of stuff are ridiculous."
"No goofy, cutesy pet names for each other."
"Yep. Except maybe Princess Puckett?"
"Eh, OK. But I get to come up with new ways to say your name at will. Fredbag, Fredweird, you know."
He just rolled his eyes as Sam continued "And no holding hands at school and stuff. We can sit beside each other at lunch and whatever but no acting all couple-y or playing footsie under the table when other people are around."
"Cool."
"And most importantly we keep it between us until we both feel the time is right to tell other people. Especially Carly. Because we both know she'll be all, acting like we're everything but married or something and then she'll be trying to set us up on double dates with her and her loser boyfriend of the week."
"Right. And then there's the people at school who will treat us like we've constantly got to be together and sit beside each other all the time and never be out of each other's sight and stuff. And then they'll sneak pictures of us and post them online with dumb hashtags and start calling us by some weird couple name."
"I'm not ready for weird. Or a couple name." Sam chuckled, glancing at a message from Carly on her phone. "Hey, you feel like stopping for a smoothie. Carly just sent Ricky packing. He must have tried to unhook her bra or something and she wants me to come over. Now I'll wind up sitting through an endless chorus of why all boys suck and how she always dates the wrong kind of guys and all of them only want one thing. I'd just as soon put off getting that chapter of my life started."
"Did you tell her we were doing something tonight?"
"Nah. I'll just send her a text and tell her I'll be over in a little while. But if we aren't going to tell other people that we're going out, don't you think we'd better quit holding hands before we go inside?"
"Yeah, right." He agreed, letting go of her. "Time for the act?"
"Yep. But you've still got a kiss coming." She smirked at him before grabbing the door handle to the smoothie shop and announcing loudly so anyone inside could hear. "Well, c'mon Fredweird. If you're gonna buy me a smoothie, don't wait until I starve to death."
Freddie just rolled his eyes. This was going to be an interesting ride.
