Chapter Four

I didn't come back to school that day. It didn't matter--senior year was complete bullshit and everybody knew it. What was I possibly going to accomplish in the next year that hadn't already been shoved down my throat in the previous seventeen years of my life? Besides, I just couldn't face everyone. I missed the old Ridgeway High too much . . . ironic, considering the scariest change of all was the one in my own heart.

He'd waited with me outside the school at that park until my tears had subsided, and we sat back down on the bench in silence for a little while. His presence beside me was solid and tangible as a brick wall. We sat so close that our arms were touching, and I could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt. It seemed so simple, just sitting there together on the bench, but it felt like my heart was squeezing in my chest, trying to decide how it felt. I didn't like Freddie in that way. I knew that, and I'd known it since the fifth grade. So it must have been some other feeling that made my heart start pounding, made me suddenly nervous that at any moment I could say something that would make him go away.

I didn't want him to leave. I was sick of people leaving.

"I'm sorry," I said after awhile. "I didn't mean to . . . " I shuddered. "Throw myself on you like that."

His smile was small and gentle. "Sam, I'm the one who owes you an apology."

It occured to me that maybe he was doing this out of guilt or pity. My whole life I had been so defensive of people ever inflicting that sort of emotion on me--I never wanted anyone to be nice because they felt bad for me, the idea of it was revolting. But my head was so muddled with thoughts of him that I really didn't care what it was that made him stay here with me.

So I didn't chew him out for it or anything.

"Sophomore year . . ."

Oh. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be reminded of that now.

"I was a jerk, Sam. There's no reason for what I did."

I shook my head. "There was. I was awful to you."

He looked down at his shoes. "That's not . . . a reason." He cleared his throat, not quite meeting my eye. "You know, we really did look for you after you left. For awhile there Carly and I actually spoke to each other. She was . . . devastated." Softening his voice, he admitted, "I was upset, too."

I shouldn't have felt so guilty. It wasn't my fault, after all. How could a sixteen-year-old girl fend off the State of Washington? But when the decision had been made, I hadn't even fought them. Maybe that's why I felt so terrible. Because for the first time in my life I just stood back and watched them take my mother and didn't utter a word of protest. I packed my bag--that's a lie, it had been packed for ages. A part of me had always known that my life with Carly and Freddie was too good to last. It had already disintegrated bit by bit before I'd been forced to leave.

"If I could've stayed," I started, not knowing what else to say.

"Why not?" Freddie asked earnestly. It wasn't an accusation. It was concern, and I didn't know how to react. I slouched, my legs fidgeting awkwardly on the bench.

"Because . . . some shit happened." I swallowed, feeling the bitter taste of last year in my mouth. "My mom, she--well. There was some freak-out at work, and it hadn't been the first time. I have no idea what happened, but I can imagine." I couldn't look at him. I felt like it was someone else's mouth the words were coming out of, because I'd never actually spoken them before. When kids asked me where I was from in Portland I'd never elaborated beyond the one-word reply of "Seattle." Now the words were tumbling out of me, out of my control. "She wouldn't hurt anyone," I stressed. "She never had. It's just that she scared some people with her . . . behavior, and after too many times they had her institutionalized." I shuddered. "And there was no place for me to go."

"What about Carly?" Freddie asked. He fiddled with his coat sleeve, saying shyly, "What about me? We would've let you--"

"I didn't think. And I didn't want anybody to know."

"Sam . . . we're your best friends. Why would we ever judge you for something like that?"

My eyes welled up again. "Because I'm always imposing on everyone! I've been a burden since the day I met Carly. I'm always mooching food and rides and inviting myself over and messing up everyone's lives. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. And high school . . . I didn't care, I figured it would be over in two years anyway, so what did it matter? But I didn't know how awful it would be, how long it would be, and I . . . "

"Sam?" he prompted me, worried at my sudden silence. "You know we would never--"

"I shouldn't be here," I whispered. "I ran away."

"Ran away?" Freddie was silent a moment, trying to process the words. "Wait. From what?" When I didn't answer right away, he continued, "God, Sam, either one of us would have let you stay. Without question."

"How could I have known that?" I was blubbering again. "I thought you hated me. You wouldn't even look at me, Freddie! You can barely even look at me now!"

"Because I was falling in love with you, Sam!"

Just then a heavy gust of wind that seemed strong enough to blow me away roared past us. I barely even noticed. The blood in my veins was racing, pulsing in my ears. I felt some unrecognizable emotion swelling in my chest, too large to contain. I thought I might burst, sitting there on the bench beside him. My face boiled despite the cold and my hands trembled with emotion. Shakily I rose to my feet.

"What?"

Freddie's expression was one of horror. "I . . . shit. Wait. Sam--"

"You're not funny, Freddie. Oh my God. I would--I would expect this from Peter Crock, but not from you--"

"Peter . . . what? Sam. Let me explain."

"No!" I yelled. "I just--I trusted you, and you just threw it all back in my face! Damn it, Freddie." I yanked my backpack up from the ground and stalked away. I heard his footsteps padding behind me, following me out of the park. I rounded on him, tears streaming from my face uncontrollably. "Leave me alone!"

"Sam--"

"Did you not hear me?" I was shrieking, the words ripping from my throat, but I was barely audible over the wind. "I don't need you! I don't need anyone! Just leave me alone!"

My phone was ringing. Dun dun dun dunnnnnnn. I knew it was him, I knew he was furious with me for leaving. Eventually the ringtone became a dull background noise, another lulling of the night. I leaned back on the grass, tilting my head to look up at the sky. It had stopped raining a few hours ago and I was laying out on the empty football field, staring up at the stars. The grass was wet and had numbed my entire backside. It felt nice.

Or I tried to convince myself it did. I knew I couldn't go to Carly's, and like hell was I headed for Freddy's after his shit. So I sat there and listened to the phone ring over and over. Laughing as the Beethoven's fifth dinged and donged. Halted, bitter laughter that gurgled deep in my throat.

I couldn't think of what could possibly happen now. It had always seemed like I'd had options. Even when I was stuck with Seth, I knew I could escape. I knew I could cut class and live my own life then. There was at least some freedom--but now I was facing a dead end, a complete stop. There was no place to go. I didn't even know where my mother was, my sister was still in the slammer, and the only friends I had were completely out of commission. If I turned to an adult I'd get reported to some sort of social services, who would poke their moronic heads in on my life like self-sacrificing vigilantes when they were really just making everything ten times worse.

My stomach growled. That was the primary issue, I thought. Food. I had spent most of my seventy dollars on bus and taxi fares working my way back up to Seattle, and I had about ten bucks. Plus I had no idea how long I'd need it to last . . . and I was too lazy to get up from the field and a grocery store, anyway.

I closed my eyes, hoping for sleep that I knew wouldn't come. Instead I stewed in my thoughts. Freddie had liked Carly. Carly had liked Freddie. Gross as it seemed . . . where did it go wrong? My eyes flew open again and I sat up, wrapping my arms around my knees. Really, it didn't add up. Their whole relationship couldn't have possibly just evaporated, turned into something so sour, when it was clear that they both had feelings for each other. The ideal situation. Stupid Fredward had been waiting his whole life for Carly to show as much as an inkling of interest for him.

"Ucch," I muttered. I didn't want to think about it. The muddled inconsistencies of the story, the holes in it that made no sense. It had been whirling in my head ceaselessly all day long. I knew that the truth of the matter was somehow connected to everything that was now trapped between the three of us. iCarly's demise, Freddie and Carly on the outs, everybody acting like I was an alien instead of Sam Puckett.

Because I wasn't. Not really. I was so mad at them for changing, so indignant that they didn't keep their whole world untouched and perfect for my return. But Sam Puckett hadn't come back. Some twist of Jamie Greene's memory and me had come home instead. I should have been sorry for my hypocrisy, but I wasn't. Of course I'd changed. My entire life had been turned upside down. And they were freaking out over--what, a stupid crush gone wrong? It clenched my fists together, still wrapped around my shaky knees. They didn't know what problems were. They had no idea. Wrapped up in their own lives like sniveling little teenagers when I'd dealt with shit that they couldn't even fathom.

The anger dissipated as quickly as it came. Because I hadn't told them--that was why they didn't know. That was why they were caught up in their own melodrama. I had lied so many times that I didn't even deserve their sympathy.

Besides, they didn't deserve to have all my problems unloaded on them. They were already unhappy. It wasn't my place to ditch them for a year and make matters even worse.

The phone rang again and in a moment of rash, thoughtless passion, I wrenched it open and screamed, "YOU CAN'T TOUCH ME, ASSHOLE--"

"Sam?"

The little voice disarmed me at once, and I deflated onto the grass. "Jack?"

"Sam," he breathed in relief. "Sam, I've been trying to reach you all night."

"From the . . . house phone," I realized stupidly. I had set the ringtone thinking that I'd only ever get calls from Seth. "Why didn't you call me from--?"

"Dad took it away." His voice was trembling.

"You sound scared. What's happened?" I still thought of him as a kid brother even if I truly had no place in his life. He had always been quiet and shy and doing poorly in school, and he depended on me for the time I was there. I felt a pang of guilt, knowing that I'd abandoned him.

"Sam, he's coming after you."

I laughed. "Don't worry about it, there's no way he'll find me out--"

"No," he interrupted with a rare burst of passion. "There's a GPS on your phone."

It felt like the skin had leapt off my bones. "What?" I stammered, my heart flying up to my tongue, thickening my words with disbelief. Every muscle in my body tensed. How could I be such a moron? Seth gave the phone to me. He had no reason to be nice. All he'd wanted was to keep tabs on me, control me like he'd been doing for the past year. He didn't want to make the same mistake twice--not like he had with the daughter I'd replaced. No, Seth Greene wasn't going to be fooled.

He'd outsmarted me. But maybe . . . maybe it wasn't too late.

"Did you hear me? Sammy?"

"Thank you, Jack." The words were lodged in my throat like popcorn kernels. "I won't forget this." I hung up and turned the phone off.

For a moment I sat, trying to think this out rationally. My first instinct was to throw the phone away. But even if I did he would come too close. There was no way to get the phone out of Seattle and get myself back in a timely manner.

If he had a GPS then he already knew. He knew where I was at this exact moment, he knew where I'd been all of today and yesterday.

I felt like I might throw up.

Instead I stood up and tore for the road, feeling my lungs rip with the unfamiliar feeling of breathlessness. I chucked the cell phone into the road and watched with a satisfying sort of madness as headlights whirred by, each car crushing the phone to bits a bit more. It wasn't enough. He'd still follow me here.

I ran for the woods behind the school. I had to be somewhere nobody would find me, and I could think of more than a few perfect places.

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