Chapter Three
Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.
Chapter Word Count: 1, 294
"Spencer! We need to go, now," said Carly, pounding loudly and urgently on his bedroom door impatiently. "If we don't leave now, I'll be late to the lock-in, and then I won't be able to get inside the school. Then I'll get an F on my project 'cause I can't trust Sam and Freddie to finish it themselves, and I'll have to repeat 12th grade. Then, when I apply for colleges at age nineteen, no one will accept me 'cause I'll seem like an idiot. And then, I'll be forced to –"
"I'm here, I'm here!" exclaimed Spencer as the door opened and a large blue, white, pink, green, and yellow ball and a sliver of Spencer's head appeared. He pushed it out of his bedroom slowly. "Help me with this sculpture, it's really heavy."
"Why do I even have to come with you to deliver this?" asked Carly as she surveyed the odd scene, torn between frustration and laughter.
"Because the person who bought it hates me because I nearly set his rug on fire, but he likes you because of your goody two shoes-ness, so he might pay me more if he sees you accompanying me."
Carly rolled her eyes but began pushing the ball with Spencer, through the narrow hallway and down the short steps of their apartment. "How are we going to get this in your car?"
Spencer paused and eyed the large, two-hundred pound sculpture in horror. "I did not think of that…"
XXX
Sam's phone vibrated with a text when she was halfway to Bushwell. She read: Hey, can you and Freddie break into my apartment and get the stuff we need for the lock-in? Spencer and I are delivering a sculpture and it's really heavy and we're running late because he doesn't know how to plan ahead. –Carly
Sam chuckled and quickly responded with a brief "Yeah." She had seen the sculpture yesterday while Spencer was putting a finishing coat of paint on it, and knew it would be a pain to take it anywhere. It was nearly five feet tall, with multicolored globs of paint and a textured surface. Poor Carly was probably on the brink of running Spencer over with its tremendous weight.
Sam rushed to Carly's apartment, as she realized she could no longer rely on Spencer for a ride to Ridgeway and actually needed to be on time, and she soon found herself crouched by the Shay's door, using the bobby pin she kept in the potted plant nearby to open it. She was deep in concentration, until a voice interrupted her (technically) illegal work. "Sam?"
"What?" she snapped, unaware of whom she was talking to. Sam turned her head around to find a confused Freddie clutching his laptop and wearing a look of mingling surprise, puzzlement, and amusement.
"Why're you picking Carly's lock? You know she always keeps it unlocked when they're home." Freddie took a step closer to the door and jiggled the knob, only to find that it was indeed locked.
"Her and Spencer have to deliver a sculpture, genius, and she told me to pick the lock and get the stuff we need for the lock-in 'cause she's gonna be late."
"Oh." Freddie knelt next to her and curiously watched her calloused hands manipulate the bobby pin. "Well, do you need help?"
"No," scoffed Sam. She took out the bobby pin, tugged on the doorknob once, and smirked as it opened smoothly to reveal the Shay's darkened apartment. "I know what I'm doing." She walked inside casually and flicked the lights on. "What do we need to get?"
"Chargers, Pear Pads, Carly's notebook, the pictures…" Freddie began ticking items off from memory and Sam went around the apartment, gathering them up carelessly in her red backpack.
"Okay, is that it?" she asked as she slung the bag around her shoulders, not minding the expensive equipment that was jostled by her motions.
"Yeah, I think so. Are we gonna walk to Ridgeway, then?"
"Is your mom not home? Can't she drive us?"
"No, she took our car with her to the hospital. She's got a double shift today."
"Ugh, I don't feel like walking, though."
"Too bad. Besides, it's only eight blocks. And it's a pretty day, the sun actually decided to show its face."
"I know. I just don't want to have to deal with eight blocks of your dorky company." Sam poked his arm, laughed, and walked out of the apartment as Freddie rolled his eyes and followed.
"That's very mature, Sam," said Freddie as he caught up to her and hit the down button on the elevator.
"Mhm. So, what are we gonna do tonight? I mean, it's only going to take us an hour or so to finish testing people, and Carly's almost done with the poster for our presentation. All we have to do is glue on the results and we're done." The elevator arrived with a cheerful "Ding!" and they stepped in, both slouching against the wall.
"Yeah…wow, I guess that means we get to relax."
"That's crazy, no one gets to take it easy at the lock-in. Like, last year, even after I kiss –" Sam abruptly cut herself off and stared at the elevator's stern gray doors, suddenly wishing they would open. She felt Freddie's eyes study her flushing face in bewilderment until he realized what she had been about to mention.
Oh God, and we're even in an elevator, just like the last time we discussed this, he thought in slight horror. "Um…" he said, "should we…talk about that?"
Sam chuckled slightly, although she still refused to look him in the eye. "What? Do you mean that thing? Is there anything even left to say with that?"
Freddie paused, slightly taken aback. The elevator's doors opened at the lobby and they both stepped off, barely registering their surroundings and Lewbert's shriek of displeasure. A polite part of Freddie managed to remember to hold the door open for Sam, but that was all. "Well, I don't know…things were tense for a while though, y'know, after we broke up, and I just wanted to make sure you know that I don't hate you, at all."
"Me neither," said Sam, finally looking up and offering him a slight smile. "We're friends, aren't we, Benson?" For once, her voice did not have a hint of menace.
"No." Freddie shook his head, although he could not quite remove the smile from his face. "No, we're not."
"What the hell, Freddie?"
"We're best friends, you didn't let me finish!" He said quickly, raising his free left hand in defense.
Sam's anger subsided as quickly as it rose, but she still punched him in the arm lightly. "Don't pull that chizz on me again, Benson."
"Oh, admit it, Sam," said Freddie, extracting his left arm to put it around her shoulder and squeeze her closer to him. "You like it."
"No, I will never confess anything as moronic as that." But despite her words, she leaned slightly closer to him and let a smile pass across her face for a second.
"Sure…"
The conversation drifted to lighter, more casual topics. They talked about the iCarly scheduled for next week and what bits they would perform, Spencer's new girlfriend that he had met at the art supplies store, and the trendy new shoes with six-inch heels that the majority of Ridgeway, including Carly, had tried wearing, before they realized how easy it was to twist one's ankle.
It was simple conversation that reminded each other of the friendship that they could find within themselves. And, because of it, the kiss at the lock-in became further and further removed from their minds.
But that was okay. Carly would fix that.
Hey! What did you think of Chapter 3? Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Chapter 2 got over 500 hits. Thank you so much for making that happen! Also, thank you to everyone who favorited this story or put it on alert. Special thanks to Invader Johnny, OneHUGEVirginia, XSeddieShipper, seddiejathan1020, irishfan62, alex02, and sharon99118for reviewing! Chapter 4 will be up soon. Once again, please review and let me know what you're thinking so I can improve this story and my writing in general! :)
