"She hasn't shut up about you for the past three days," I heard Carly say as I rounded the corner. I leant up against the wall, hugging my salami stick and listening in. "All I've heard is reasons why you have no right to hate her. It's Freddie this, Freddie that. I love her and she's my best friend, but frankly it's irritating."
My jaw went slack, horrified. I stomped my foot and walked up to them and they stopped talking abruptly. "You guys talking about anything…" I opened my locker, grabbed a random book to preoccupy my fists so I didn't punch my only two friends in thief faces, slammed it and turned back to them "…interesting?" I shot Carly a fiery glare and she bit her lip, ashamed.
"N-" Carly began, red-faced.
"Yes, actually." Freddie crossed his arms. "About how much you apparently talk about me, Puckett." He smirked slightly, a glint in his eyes. I narrowed my own.
"About your nubbish tendencies retard," I spat. Freddie rolled his eyes, taking out his phone.
"And she wonders why I hate her," he mumbled. I growled, feeling hurt.
I looked at Carly and raised my eyebrows – she mimed something about how Freddie doesn't hate me at all and about how she thinks it's quite the most opposite of sentiments and I also realise you must think it's weird how telepathic me and Carly are at times.
I glanced back at Freddie who was texting rapidly. "Going to cry to m-" I stopped myself when he muttered something.
"What was that?" I asked, brow quirked.
"Nothing," he muttered, brushing his hair out of his face. Carly chuckled, shaking her head.
"What did he say?" I asked, looking at her and him accusingly. I folded my arms over and leant against my locker, expectant. "Tell me," I croaked, taking a fistful of his stripy polo's collar. I gagged at the vomit inducing stripes.
Before I could pull back my fist to catapult punch him in the nose, Carly spoke. "It seems you're become more predictable, Sam. Freddie here knew what you were going to say." Carly giggled.
"Oh yeah?" I said, a little nervous. HA. Me? Nervous. Psh. "What then?"
Freddie looked reluctantly at Carly who giggled. He turned to me with a sickeningly broad smile. "Going to cry to Momma Benson or is she hassling you for another tick bath?" I stopped my eyes from bulging and gulped before shaking my head fiercely.
"Nyeah," was the only response I could formulate in time.
"Nyeah," he retorted equally as pathetic.
I changed the subject hastily. "Homework?" I asked.
He opened his Human Biology Workbook and handed me a filled in sheet. I folded it up and stuffed it in the pocket of my jeans. "Thanks, nub." I bumped his fist and turned around, storing my salami stick back in my locker for lunch and walked three paces ahead of Freddie to our lesson.
"You two never fail to astonish me," I hear Carly say behind us as she left at the first junction to head to English.
I rolled my eyes. "I don't talk about you to Carly, just so you know."
"Mmm, sure." He nodded. I scowled, feeling uncomfortable.
"I don't hate you, Frednub." I said it so quickly and so quietly that I wasn't entirely sure whether he had even heard what I'd said, but I quickly shuffled past the others into class as the bell rang and avoided the back row and stole some smart girl's seat.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Freddie, looked dumfounded.
That makes a change.