Three days before he leaves. Did time fly or what?
He was lounging in his room with Sam, packing a few last minute items. His mother made him pack practically everything two weeks early, so he had basically been living out of his suitcases ever since. But now he was beginning to pack the essentials that he would need, and some of the new items his mother had recently bought him. Such as a regular and travel sized first aid kit, ointment, 2 packs of floss, three new toothbrushes. Just the usual for her.
Sam groaned, for the fourth time since she had walked in unannounced a half hour ago. "Come on, Benson! Let's go to the Groovy Smoothie or something. I'm bored."
He rolled his eyes, smirked a bit. "My answer still hasn't changed, Puckett."
"But you've been packing that thing since noon! Don't you have enough towels by now?"
"My mom's going to be home at 6, and she will go through my things one by one making sure I have everything." He replied as he counted sunscreens. "I'd rather not go through yet another round of 'Why didn't you pack the extra bottle of shampoo I bought you?' I have to make sure everything's here, or else I'll be dragged to the store to buy all new supplies for the third time just this week." He looked her in the eye, "Five cases of Mister Clean are enough, Sam. I'm not giving her the opportunity to get me a sixth."
Sam was considerably silent as Freddie placed his 4 bottles of sunscreen back in the ziplock and tossed them in his suitcase.
"Mister Clean removes the green; mistakes are few and far between."
Freddie burst into laughter, and soon Sam joined in. "Never tell my mom that," he warned through chortles, "that's one of her habits she's actually toned down!"
Once they calmed down, Sam turned to him. "Okay, I have a question."
"Shoot." He replied, counting his shampoos.
She stuck her hand out, and he rolled her eyes, grabbing her a scrap piece of paper and a pencil. She took them silently and sat up on the bed, quickly writing out her truth. Then, she dropped the pencil on the ground and slid the page to him, lying back down on her back, throwing up a squishy ball.
Are you scared?
Freddie read the message, absentmindedly nodding. He looked back up at her, suddenly much closer than she had been. "Y-yeah, I am. I guess I'm mostly afraid that… it won't be any different. Like, just a bigger version of high school. I'm afraid I'll be known as the nerdy tech producer from iCarly. I'm afraid that I won't even be that – that was always a pretty admirable title – I'm afraid I'll just be the nerd."
"Freddie, don't get me wrong, but it's MIT. Everyone's a nerd there."
He breathed a laugh, shaking his head, "You would think that, but I went to registration there, and it's actually not that nerdy. There were guys riding up on motorcycles in leather jackets, or looking like they just walked off a magazine cover. Then there were guys like me, huddled together trying not to get trampled. I just… don't want to fall back to how it was in high school. New state, new rep, you know? But even if it's a new school, I'm still the same guy. That's not going to change."
Sam sighed, sitting up on the bed and looking him in the eye. "You were never a huge nerd in high school. Sure, I picked on you for it, but there were dozens who were worse off than you. You were pretty well liked by everyone; they all thought you were a pretty cool guy. And that's a really big accomplishment. I know you'll do fine in college. You'll make friends, you'll meet girls, you'll study your ass off, you'll go to the occasional party-" She shook her head, "Okay, I don't know about parties, but I know you'll at least have a good time. You're worrying about nothing."
Speechless, he stared at her. "Wow, Sam. Uh, thanks. That… means a lot."
She dropped back on the bed, tossing the ball in the air. "Yeah, yeah, moment of weakness. Don't get used to it."