Hey hey! Wat goes on fictioneers and fictionistas?

You must be eager to read so I won't take up too much space up here. I give you the fourth chapter of, "Give My Regards" entitled "Things That I Hide" written to the tune of "Invincible," by Crossfade.

Please read enjoy and review thank you.

Things That I Hide

Sam entered the room and kicked the door shut behind her. She sat on the bed and looked at the bland room. Suddenly, just the thought of being in the room annoyed her. She placed the carton of lo mein on the desk next to Freddie's computer. She thought about Freddie's tirade as she sat in front of his computer.

"… I couldn't face you and your new boyfriend…"

Why'd he have to be so stupid? Why would it matter to him if she had a boyfriend or not? Could he be interested? Of course he could; he was a guy, after all. But if he did become interested, then, why did it have to happen while she was across the country? For that matter, if he was interested, when did he become interested? She'd always heard that absence made the heart grow fonder, but this was ridiculous. Sam shook her head dismissing that train of thought. She didn't like any of the possible areas where it would lead.

"You think that I just went on and happily lived my life after that night… that it was easy to cut out part of my life…"

"You were… are… a big part of it…"

He certainly could have fooled her. For two years he didn't call. For two years he stunted their conversations when she would call him. For two years he forgot about her. For two years he left her out there alone. She looked around at the bland walls of the room again… she was still alone.

She glances at the clock on the computer. It's nearing 11:00. It's late… for her. She wants to be up and out of his place as soon as possible. She shut down the computer and made her way to her suitcase and changed into a pair of shorts and T-shirt to sleep in. Earlier, she'd given thought to the idea of using the drawer space that he'd made available. But that would've just interfered with what she had come to do.

She had come back to close, what had become, the worst chapter of her life. She came back to let Freddie know that whatever they had was irreparable. She felt that she accomplished this. In the morning she'd: wake up, make her way to her uncle's place, and be done with him… for good.

She lay down on the bed and turned her back to the door.

That's what she wanted… right? She decides that it doesn't really matter what she wants. With him out of the picture she could finally focus her full attention on her career. It's what she needs. She needs him to be out of her life. She needs to prove that she doesn't need him.

She turned over and stared at the door.

She doesn't need him. She never has, and she never will. She was perfectly fine before he came into her life. She was perfectly fine when they were enemies. She was perfectly fine before he started acting all friendly. She was fine without him before… she'd be fine without him now… right?

She released a sigh of frustration. She couldn't find an answer to her question. She surmised that she was too tired to keep thinking about it and resigned herself to her fitful rest.

The next morning, Freddie yawned and opened his eyes. He couldn't even remember falling asleep. Assessing his current condition, he found that he had not even bothered lying down on the couch. He looked down to his stomach to see his phone resting on his stomach. He knocked his phone off to the side and heard it hit the couch and bounce onto the floor. He looked to the coffee table and saw half full cartons of Chinese food scattered about its surface. Feeling that he'd taken and adequate enough survey of his surroundings, he moved to rise from the couch.

His back was stiff and his neck had a kink. He tried to rub the kink out of his neck. Tilting his head to both sides, he stretched out the muscles in his neck. Rotating his upper body his stretched out his back. He walked back to his room to see if Sam was still there. He was about to knock but stopped and decided to wash his face and brush his teeth. He didn't know how he was going to reconcile but he figured that morning breath would be a bad start.

Upon entering the bathroom he got to the sink and took his toothbrush out of its holder and applied the toothpaste. When he looked at the mirror he saw a note taped to the mirror. Giving an inquisitive stare at it he yanked it down and read it.

Woke up early and took a cab.
Its easier this way. This way
we can both move on.

Sam

Freddie read the note again… and again… and again. He couldn't believe it. She left. She had been threatening to do it, of course. Well, she had been mentioning it; but he thought it was just anger. He never thought that she would just leave. No goodbye; not even a 'thanks for the bed'. No. He got three sentences… on a post-it note. He crumpled up the note and threw it in the trash can next to the toilet.

Ok Freddie, just calm down and think for a second.

She took her bag… but all she had was an overnight and a small suitcase. Her other bags were in his trunk. He ran to check the kitchen table to see if the keys were in the same spot that he'd left them. Jackpot. If his keys were still in the same spot then she couldn't get into his car. She'd have to come back.

Freddie sat back on his couch and reclined for a bit. This was easy. This was very easy. This was too easy. Freddie thought as he jumped up from the couch and slipped on his shoes and went down to his car.

He went to the passenger's side and opened the glove compartment. He pressed the button to open the trunk and ran around to check.

It was empty.

He swore and slammed the trunk. The old lady getting into her car scowled at him. He scowled back. He was not in the mood for decorum. He'd apologize later. He'd give her… what do old people like these days… Vitamins. He thought, making a mental note to stop by the drug store later. That's where you got vitamins, right? Yeah… he was sure of it. He looked back at his trunk and saw another post-it.

Looks like I still got it after all,
Benson.

Sam

He crumpled the note and put it in his pocket. He made his way up to his apartment.

Where did he go wrong? He told her everything, didn't he? He picked her up from the airport. He bought her lunch. They caught up with each other… sort of. It was just like old times, except that this time came with a layer of anger and apprehension… so it was just like older times. He put up with her snapping at him. He gave her dinner and a bed to sleep in.

He apologized. It wasn't enough. That much is evident. But what was he supposed to do. He already told her. If he could take it back he would. He'd go back to that day in New York and face her. He'd go back to that airport and say goodbye in person. He'd go back to Carly's house and spend time with his two best friends. He'd go back to her house and help her pack. He told her all of this. And all he was afforded was a post-it on the bathroom mirror.

She had the nerve to say that it would be easier this way. Easier for who… Easier to do what? Move on? He hadn't moved on after two years. There was nothing easy about it for him. He'd call and ask her if she had a boyfriend, and it would take all of his fortitude to keep from sounding like a nervous wreck while awaiting her answer. It would take all of his composure to keep from cheering like a maniac when she said she wasn't seeing anyone. In the two years following his disaster at New York, he had to rely on old iCarly videos to hear her voice. He couldn't handle talking to her in person. He was liable to say anything. In his most desperate moments he went so far as to contemplate going over there.

What was the use in staying in Seattle if his heart would be all the way across the country? He'd, of course, quickly dismiss these thoughts. It was crazy to leave everything behind. It seemed like such a 'Sam' thing to do; and he thought she was crazy for doing it. Besides, going all the way across the country for a friendship seemed to be overkill.

He sat on his couch and as he thought over his life up to that point; he couldn't help but wonder. How had he reached this point? He had never felt this way about a girl. And the one time he had he certainly didn't react the way he was acting now.

When most girls would reject him there was no uncertainty about it. It would always be an immediate 'no'… especially with Carly. He never had time to fear the rejection because, before he knew it, it had already happened. With Sam… it was different. With Sam, he hesitated. When he hesitated he had to time to think about her rejecting him. By the time that the thought of rejection sank in, he'd already convinced himself to wait.

He'd liked her since they were seniors in high school. He became attached to her over those first two years when she was in New York. He'd loved her since feeling the pain of seeing her with some random guy that he thought was her boyfriend. He'd fallen in love with her when he realized that being without her was even more painful. He'd never felt like this before. It had, honestly, never occurred to him that he could ever feel this way.

And instead of embracing this new found feeling, he cast it aside and ran from it. No wonder Sam hated him right now. He had said all the right things but… he had said them the wrong way. He said them with fear. To her it must have sounded like he was just telling her what she wanted to hear. It must have sounded to her like he was just trying to avoid arguing with her. Or, even worse, she must've thought he was just trying to shut her up.

In turn, she only heard what she wanted to hear. She hadn't even heard his apology. She wrote it off the minute it started sounding insincere. All she heard was the accusatory part of the apology. Then she defended herself, because that's what came natural to her. But now he could fix it. He could make things right between them.

He already knew where she would be. He just had to wait. His questions didn't matter anymore. His uncertainties didn't matter anymore. His fear didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was taking another chance, and hopefully… getting another chance.

He ran his hands through his hair and thought over the things he would and wouldn't say and how he would and wouldn't say them. He thought of the calls that he had to make. He thought of the gravity of the risk he was taking. He didn't think that anyone he knew would like his decision. Strangely, though, for the first time in a long time… he didn't care who approved of his choice. He had finally made up his mind. Sam would be proud... at least… the old Sam would've been proud.

They had both changed over their time apart. But as he thought over the post-it that he found stuck to his trunk…

Looks like I still got it after all,
Benson

"The old Sam is still in there somewhere."

There ya have it.

Thanks for reading my humble little working the kinks out of this no dialog thing so tell me what ya think. Whether or not you decide to review thanks for taking the time to read y fic and hope that you continue to do so.

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Well that wraps it up for me,
Until Next time
Deuces
KL21