Chapter Six

A week of iCarly was skipped as I gave Sam her space. Freddie still doesn't know why we're separating ourselves. I told him it was a 'disagreement' and he'd know more if and/or when the time was right. The answer didn't satisfy him, but if he brought it up I changed the subject.

Spencer keeps inviting me to help him with his sculptures. Not that he hasn't before, just now he seems to go out of his way to include me as a distraction from what he knows is on my mind otherwise.

Freddie came by earlier to tell me Sam e-mailed him about showing up for the iCarly we're supposed to do tomorrow. He said he has to get back to me about whether she's willing to rehearse first. I don't know if it's meant to be like business now, her participation in iCarly, or if this is a sign she is prepared to re-enter my life personally as well.

I hear a tapping against the front door and see a twist of the handle as Freddie lets himself in.

"Sam should be here in half an hour," he declares, joining me on the couch.

"What did she say, exactly, in her message about doing iCarly again?"

"Not a whole lot. Just mentioned coming back…"

"Are we going to rehearse what we planned for last week or come up with something new?"

"Let's ask Sam if she is still up for it. Jell-O Wrestling Trivia may not be the best choice while you two are fighting."

"We're not fighting, Freddie. We're just taking a break from each other."

At least, that's how I'd describe it now. We never argued or anything. Not really.

"Guess the breaks over then," Freddie replies as we hear a twist of the door handle.

"She's early," I whisper.

Freddie merely shrugs, unaffected.

I haven't looked in that direction since I heard the door click shut again. Could her decision to let herself in without invite be a good sign? I still don't know what will happen when our eyes meet, so I focus my attention in front of me. When her form passes by my line of vision I remain still. The sound of her footsteps continues lightly on the floor until I'm positive she's in the kitchen. I force myself to look.

"I'm going to go upstairs and check all the equipment," Freddie alerts me as he leaves the spot beside me to climb the stairs.

I want to beg him to stay, but he doesn't turn around to view my slightly panicked face. I can't shout out to him or Sam will hear. He may or may not have chosen to leave us alone on purpose.

"Ah, ham, how I've missed thee…"

I peek in the direction of the sound just in time to witness Sam attacking our meat with a fork. It causes me to smile to myself. It is a relief to see her so in character compared to how I've known her to be for all these years. But does this mean we're going to pretend nothing happened? I suppose I'll have to test it.

"I don't know why we haven't done a segment yet called 'Sam loves ham' and just filmed you raiding my fridge…"

I am up from the couch now and standing on the opposite side of the counter. She looks up from her feast and sets the fork down while swallowing what's left in her mouth.

"Maybe because I always eat it before the show, like during rehearsals, so there isn't any left when we film."

My eyes only capture a flash of hers before they move away to concentrate on the plate. There's nowhere obvious to take our conversation.

"Freddie is probably done checking things. Want to head upstairs?"

I turn around to walk away, not intending to wait for a response, but her voice stops me.

"Hey Carly, can I spend the night?"

For a question so familiar, it's weird how much it is able to surprise me. I turn my head slightly and nod, not sure what else to do. She then starts to follow me as we ascend the stairs to the third floor.

The entire rehearsal is a blur. I must have concealed how much my mind is swirling though because Freddie still complimented us regularly. He's currently getting ready to leave. I'm standing in the middle of the room. Sam has exhaustedly crashed upon a bean bag. And it's a mystery how such a routine physical existence can become so unnatural in the midst of emotional chaos.