Where did the time go? It seems like only yesterday Carly asked me to come to the wedding. Yet it was over four months ago. I had my dress (not the gaudy, ugly one, mind you) packed in my suitcase, and I was flying over the Rocky Mountains, my MP3 playing at full blast, trying to calm my nerves. Was my plan going to work? Would Carly realize I had an ulterior motive for coming? She'd probably hate me forever after this, but it needed to be done.
The plane landed, and my nerves got out of control once I saw Carly at the airport, holding up a big sign with "Sam Puckett" printed on it in eye-burning neon pinks and oranges. I walked up to her, and she squealed, grabbed my arms, and jumped up and down. "OH MY GOD, SAM!" she yelled, causing everyone within earshot to stare. I grinned awkwardly, trying to get all these unnecessary pairs of eyes off us. "Hey, Carls…"
We headed over to the baggage claim, and I waited for what seemed like forever for my bag to get here. A floral bag slid over to me, and while it was the best suitcase I had, suddenly it seemed really tacky. I seemed really tacky. I snuck a peek at what Carly was wearing (a leather jacket and a gorgeous bubble skirt dress, accented with a crystal necklace and a pair of gladiator heels) and then looked down at my clothes (a layered t-shirt, flare jeans, and a generic pair of sneakers). And I knew she noticed, too. At least she had the dignity not to mention anything.
"Is your dress in there?" she asked me while we walked to the parking lot. "Yes, Carly," I sighed, "for the fifth time, a dress is in there." At least she didn't pick up on my hint, because she squealed, "Pull it out and let me see it! I'm sure the dress looks amazing on you."
"I don't think so, Carls. I'd rather save the dress for your wedding. That way, it's more of a surprise, you know?" Nice save, Sam.
We walked for a little bit more before pausing. "Why did we stop?" I asked, looking around for any discernible reason."
"This is my car!" she half-squealed, half-beamed. My eyes widened in awe. That was Carly's car? It was a gorgeous black car with sleek curves and shiny chrome all over. It must have cost a fortune! She pressed a button on the keychain she had, and the doors went up. Not out. Up. The doors went up.
We stepped in the car, and I could tell we were sitting on leather. She pressed a large blue button, and the entire car lit up. There were LCD neon lights all over the car! A calm female voice quietly said "Welcome," and then the car had started. Just like that. My eyes were as wide as oranges, but she looked as if she'd done this a thousand times. Then again, she probably had.
Carly calmly leaned towards the dashboard and tapped a button, causing a microphone to pop out of the steering wheel. "Direct to Home." she stated, and a GPS slid out of the glove box and began navigating to her house. Who needs a GPS to get to their own house? Okay, now she was just showing off.
We made it back to her house within fifteen minutes. She'd remolded the old apartment into something modern and practical. Any traces that a quirky artist had once lived here was gone. "What happened?" I all but screamed. Carly clearly didn't hear the urgency or shock in my voice, and simply stated, "I did some work on the place. You like it?" It took everything I had to swallow what I really wanted to say and mutter, "It's nice." I had to see if she'd changed anything else.
Her bedroom was completely different, nothing like the room we'd spent 82 thousand dollars on. It was calm and efficient; a master bedroom and nothing else. Her gummi bear chandelier had been replaced by a small lamp dangling above her bed. Clean white sheets and wooden boards taunted me as if to say, "Your old memories are gone. What are you going to do now?"
I fled the room and took the elevator up to the iCarly studio. Everything, everything had been torn down. The Newton Balls, the 17% faster monitor, the prop car, everything. I couldn't take this. I couldn't believe Carly would just get rid of everything. We'd worked on making everything in the house special and unique, and just like that, she'd changed it into her own little prissy palace, like she didn't even care that we didn't want any of these changes. We needed the old Shay residence back. But now it was gone forever.
I heard a knock on the door and ran back downstairs, wanting to see who it was. I looked through the peephole and it was Freddie. Freddie! I hadn't seen him in seven years. I guess now was my chance.
"Carly? Carly?" I heard him calling.
"Carly, where are you?" I yelled out.
"In the bathroom!" she replied.
Awesome. I ran to the door and twisted the lock. She'd have to stay in there until I was done talking with Freddie. I wasn't going to have Little Miss Meddler interfering. I needed to talk with him, one-on-one.
I opened to door and stepped out, trying to hide the fear and awkwardness I felt inside.
"Hello, Fredley."