Sorry about the late update. And sorry about how angsty Freddie get in this chapter. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!
Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly
Chapter 3-Knowing Your Secret
Sam needed to find him.
The irony was that Sam had avoided previously, only finding herself lost for words after the incident a few days ago. She couldn't allow such a rare accident slip past her and yet, it appeared to not be an accident. If she had never fought with him and if she had never sucked up the courage to arrive at his apartment, only to find his shocking secret, she would never have the chance to at least interact with him with something they have in common. Perhaps this was the opportunity to open her up again to music.
Sam shook off the thought. No. Too far, too soon. She still hated his guts but this incredible soft spot couldn't wear off since it happened. Needing to see him and clear up the mess could probably let things return how they were.
It is also during their talk that Sam hopes to figure out his angered expression. It is one thing to be shocked that Sam had managed to be standing there in hopes to apologize but to feel incredible hate to her was unrealistic. Was it a secret? It must've been, since Sam had asked Carly nonchalantly the other day and chose not to use Freddie in the question.
Sam turned to the school doorway as she heard it opened but was only disappointed to see him not there. Class was starting a few minutes and the dork hadn't arrived. Avoiding her was a bit childish, to say the least. Sam ripped a piece of ham and chewed it annoyingly.
"Hey, Sam," Carly said, appearing at her side.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever Carls. Just trying catch up on my third breakfast, PMSing like hell and I've had this rash on my leg since Saturday. What's it to you?" Sam snapped before taking another bite out her ham.
Carly frowned, shifting a bit uncomfortably at her remark, "Well, PMSing was a thought that crossed my mind-."
"Oh, you don't get it Shay!" Sam groaned loudly, turning fully to her and leaned against the lockers. She furrowed her brows painfully. Sam raised a hand to her head, muttering 'ow' under her breath.
"Pucketts usually don't get headaches unless feeling very desperate or very guilty," Carly smirked. Sam banged her head against the lockers, her expression nowhere near pleasant. She ripped another piece off.
"I'm neither!" Sam said loudly, smacking her food around with each bite in an amusing attempt to annoy her friend. "I'm quite peachy, thank you!"
"But your ham isn't."
"Like I care."
"Freddie cares."
"What do mean he-?" Sam froze and gave a snarling deadpanned gaze at her friend. Carly's smile had dropped and appeared not to be threatened by Sam's anger.
"You talked to him, didn't you?" It wasn't a question; it was a statement and Carly simply shrugged.
"I dunno. I mean, he came by yesterday-."
"What did he say, Shay?" Sam interrupted, her gaze not faltering in the slightest. Carly narrowed down at her.
"Oh, I don't know," Carly snapped, sarcasm dripping from each word. "He was angry and says he wants nothing to do with you anymore. Nothing special."
Sam paused at her reply, a bit taken aback. Yep, he wasn't mad; He was pissed. She could certainly argue back at Carly that he could get over it but it felt like rewind to two years ago. It was déjà vu from their kiss.
He had hated her. The dork had had it with her and wanted nothing of her. She knew she was cruel and still, guilt had won the battle. Sam could remind herself that everything had turned out then and could be fixed now. She stood up to him, she apologized, he accepted. It was done and forgotten, even with the small incident of a kiss exchanged between the two. It could be done now and somehow, it couldn't.
Something about this fight had differed from all others. This secret must've been especially dear to him if he couldn't even face her for the past few days. It was his weak spot, such as her own. It was just the problem of fixing all the confusion and for one thing, Sam was never for fixing problems, especially with a dork.
The bell rang. "We have to get to class," Carly sighed, turning away from her friend and headed in the opposite direction. Freddie still hadn't showed up. Carly paused and turned to her.
"You coming?" she asked. She had only seen Sam like this a few times: guilty with slight desperateness. Sam had averted her eye contact, finally giving after a moment, and shook her head.
"No," she mumbled. Carly suddenly felt an urge to apologize but her words couldn't be put into place. And despite that, she wanted this to be fixed. Seeing her two best friends fight was always stressful and even if it meant ignoring Sam, she had to be strong.
Carly turned back and past the corner, completely out of sight. Sam's expression hardened as she realized she was alone, both physically and theoretically. She didn't care if it meant breaking all the school rules and getting suspended. She needed to find the dork and fix the problem. As always, Mama plays to win.
Sam had managed to catch the last bits of each of her classes, to catch up on the work that she missed (which she'll never do) but she kept herself busy looking out for the nub. After breaking a few thumbs and wedgied a few AV dorks, Sam had some got the facts that Freddie was here but on a very low keyed and played out schedule.
Apparently he was taking very odd school routes to reach his classes. The dork was smart but he should've known Sam would somehow get her way and eventually find him. She was quite proud of herself to get this far. She felt like a cop, interrogating the weak and snacking on sweet treats.
All she knew right now was that it was study hall, the one and only class she shared with Freddie. This was it. He couldn't back out. He could go to the extreme and go home sick but he wouldn't afford missing a chemistry test. He had to face her and she was eager for it.
Sam was prepared to him. The class was set up in a few round tables and back row of desk facing the wall, school Pear computers lined up. A few students were already there when she arrived, a minute late as she scrambled to finish her ham sandwich she had ripped off a freshman. Sam searched the room with her eyes and didn't spot him. The teacher was busy at her desk and students were either on the computers, finishing work at tables, or chatting quietly with their friends. The room was fairly empty.
Sam frowned slightly as she stepped further in the room. The nub was a freak for not showing up. How much of an idiot could he be? He had stuck up to her before.
Suddenly, he stomach lurched: his bag was at a table. This was it. He was here and she could get him. The question was where was he? Hoping that she didn't look desperate, she sped over to his table and searched through his bag. He didn't have much; a few books, a peppy cola, lotion (oh Benson), and a couple scraps. She frowned. Sam was hoping for something more. She checked the scraps and found out they were conversations exchanged between the two.
S: Giv me answers dork!
F:No, this is test. You should've studied
S: I don't get time. Im busy!
F: With what? Doing nothing?
S: Yur such a-
The conversation was cut short. She remembered that they were caught by Mr. Howard but that didn't stop her. She pulled out another scrap.
S: Nce.
F: What's 'nce'
S: Words without vowels. S Hwrd dnt fnd out
F: -.-
S: Drk
F: Blnd hded dmn
S: Ftlmps
Sam laughed as she remembered Freddie giving her a such a dorky look. She couldn't believe that this was how they were. It seemed so…simple. Now everything was ruined.
Sam decided to keep the notes and went back to searching. Unzipping the front pocket, she found his Pear pod. Now, she could at least find out his taste in music. Sam preferably preferred a large range of music but country was at heart. Hacking through his password (it was tech, which she figured as much), she started searching through his songs and artists.
It range was large but all within the same type of music: rock, more so alternative. The Killers, All-American Rejects, The Fray, The Maine, A Rocket to the Moon, Kuttle Fish, etc. Sam couldn't believe it. She expected stupid generic pop or techno, not rock. She smiled to herself as she felt as though she finally accomplished something. Now she needed to find Benson.
"What are you doing?"
That didn't take long.
Sam turned slowly, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, pursing her lips. He wasn't as angry as last time but he was still pissed and slightly confused. He had striped polo on but looked slightly wet on the front. She reached out and picked at it.
"You…got a spot," she mumbled, trying to keep distracted. It wasn't small, it was practically all over and seeping through. He snarled and shoved her hand away.
"Any particular reason why your snooping through my stuff?" he snapped, walking around the table to thr other side of her. Sam's expression still remained, lips pursed out of embarrassment and a bit stale in the eyes. It happened to fast she didn't even think what she was going to say to him. She had to say something.
"I…um…my feet went loopy…and forced my over here. Probably thought that…you had food. You know…instincts," Sam said slowly, choosing her story carefully. His expression scrunched in confusion.
"And I assume your hands just went bazurk and opened my bag and found my Pear pod?" Freddie said sarcastically. Sam thought for a moment and nodded, smirking slightly.
"Pretty much. Yep," Sam said, smirking up at him. He didn't seem too impressed but he went and snatched his pear pod back from her. Sam scowled as he busied himself with the pear pod.
"Dude, come on! I've done a lot worse and you know it!" Sam argued. Freddie ignored her, only irking her anger.
"You've been pissed at me since Saturday. You did I came to apologize, right?" Sam said. Freddie turned and shoved his pear pod back into his backpack. That's it. Sam growled in frustration and threw his bag off the table and across the room.
"What the fr-."
"Cut the crap fudge face and listen!" Sam snapped. Freddie faced her and gave a cold glare. She didn't falter.
"I know you secret," Sam started. Freddie shifted uncomfortably as she spoke. He gave quick glances around the room.
"I don't know what your talking about," he mumbled.
"Oh shut up, nub. No one is that pissed at someone unless someone, me being the case, did something horrible to you, which of course is my specialty."
"You don't understand," he grumbled, throwing his bag over his shoulder and rising from his seat.
"Ohhh, walk away," she mocked. "Typical, weak, Freddie!"
"I don't need the crap, Puckett! Does me hating you not give enough information that I don't want to deal with you anymore?"
Sam stopped short at his words. He was just as made as he was Saturday but this was worse. She was making him angrier, much to her dismay. Something needed to come out to make him understand but all she could do was stare. He gave a sigh, rolling his eyes and left.
