I actually prepared myself for anything that might have happened.

Before I collected ten percent of the bravery to approach her, I had to secure all possible pressure points and I created a mental image of me wrapping my guts with duct tape.

And so, I went for it.

'Sam?'

When she looked up at me, I immediately forgot what I wanted to say. I have never seen her this bored before. Well, not really "all" that bored. In fact, she wasn't "entirely" bored because she may have been eighty percent hurt and twenty percent bored. I'm no Carly, who reads Sam best, but this time around, she appeared to be too "out of sync" to hide her disappointment.

She looked for over a minute and I still didn't say anything. This was the point where I should have put the mental duct tape into use and have taken a Puckett Blow.

But I didn't.

'So, are you just gonna stand there, Freddork?'

Okay. At least she was at least a percentage Sam. I breathed heavily and held out my hand to her. She looked from my hand to my face. I couldn't help but notice how she cringed more at my face than she did at my hand. Hey, I don't think I'm that bad.

'So,' I began. 'Care for a dance, birthday girl?'

I just had to wait for the music to go slow. It was officially past three hours before that happened and I just couldn't sit around and wait anymore. It was a good thing T-Bo decided that most of the people they have invited over at the Groovy Smoothie for Sam's birthday bash should have been tired after three hours of perky dancing.

Sam only grunted as she set the smoothie she held on the long table.

If this was a birthday bash for Samantha Puckett and you had Carly Shay prepare everything for it, then expect a long table that Sam will refuse to wander far from. It was filled with all the stuff she liked – from the crispiest of fried chicken to the meatiest of pizzas…well, only Carly-less.

But Sam was apparently not happy. Probably too unhappy that she actually got to her feet and to the bigger space in the area with me. She was groaning most of the time but at least she went as far as place both hands on my nape and essentially got to dance.

I had Carly to thank. It was her little scheme to arrive later the night so she could prepare for this best. But as Sam and I got past three minutes without hurting each other, we both realized that it was actually already late – too late, in fact.

'Where the hell is Carly?' Sam said and I almost thought it was my mind given life and a girl's vocal chords. 'Didn't she tell you anything about arriving later than late?'

I furrowed my brows as I began to worry. But I just had to trust Carly for a few more minutes and try to fish something out of the blonde.

'Uh, I'm not sure,' I said, just to close the topic. 'Hey, Sam.'

She replied with a low uninterested hum.

'I was just thinking about a couple of things.'

'Is this food?' She asked and I immediately regretted my choice of words as her eyes narrowed. This very moment can get ugly anytime I said the wrong thing. 'It better be something I'm interested in or you die. I swear it. What things?'

That was when I decided that she was really upset. Genuinely. Well, maybe if I said Carly's name first, she would be more forgiving.

'Carly.'

I felt her stop on her feet for a second, but she continued as if she tried to deny she was affected by the mere mention of her best friend's name.

'I know, Sam.'

That was very short but I knew then that she understood me completely. I hinted many times that I knew how she felt about Carly but she had only been literally reacting violently, which happens all the time and even made things more confusing.

'What do you want to do about it? Does it stop here?'

Sam shook her head, sighed heavily and just stopped where she stood last.

'What's wrong?'

'You know what?' she said with her voice shaken at one point. She drew her hand from my nape. 'It stops by itself.'

'Sam.'

I reached for her and held her gently by the arm. But yeah, I'm still very cautious when it comes to things like these. Without another word, she walked past my shoulder.

Well. She had been waiting for three hours. Most of the guests had gone home too. I didn't really expect it, but I, Freddie Benson, just found himself very disappointed at Carly Shay. I shook my head and fished my cellphone out of my pocket. My fingers smashed for the name of that V.I.P, who was apparently M.I.A. at the moment.

With my phone against my ear, I shuffled at different directions. I was probably hoping Carly might have been under the table, hiding and would pop out of the cake (which is insane because the cake was way too small for even her head to fit in) or maybe by the door and didn't have the braves to put her confession even at least into commencement.

I was disappointed. Really disappointed.

But only until I realized that I was already past ten attempts to get an answer from my phone contact labeled Carly Shay.

I stared at the "Calling" sign that remained on the screen. I felt a jolt of panic as I remember how Carly was still sick. She's been sick for three nights now.

I went for another attempt and held my breath as I prayed she would just answer the freaking call and tell us she was just Carlifying herself with heavy dosages.

I finally stopped calling her number and went for Spencer's.

'Hello, Spencer?' I said after hearing his overly perky voice on the other line. 'Spencer, where is Carly?'

'I thought she was with you and Sam?'

I froze at that. Spencer was even silent for minute as well.

'Hold on. Hold on. Oh, shoot. I'm out to get Carly some meds. You're not joking, are you?'

'Why would I joke about something like that?' I hissed angrily.

'Oh, no. I didn't want her to go to Sam's birthday bash but she bashed the hell out of me and made me feel guilty by looking all sick and pouty!'

I didn't even listen to rest of the point. Spencer himself sounded like he was running midsentence as his side of the line gradually became shaky and airy.

I wasn't the type of person to curse, but I couldn't recall how many different curses I mumbled as I frantically searched for a sign of Sam. She had to know. From one corner of the room to another, I turned and looked but I couldn't see her.

Thinking she might have been in the restroom, I grabbed the nearest girl I saw and left a message for Sam to just head to the Shay apartment as soon as possible.

It wasn't the best feeling in the world. The thought of any sort of accident happening to Carly gave me the feeling like my duct-taped guts were suddenly being de-duct-taped. On top of that, the thought of Sam finding out that Carly was hurt and I took part in her scheme-gone-wrong made me want to spend the little savings I had to re-hire Gun Smoke.

My feet were pounding the pavement as I broke for a run back to Bushwell Plaza. I knew the feeling I had was growing and slowly grew out of its shell, turning into a mix of fear, regrets and the sickest of all worries I ever felt.

After several minutes that felt like an hour to me, I finally arrived at the lobby. Normally, I would not understand what Lewbert would be screaming about when I get past him, but this time, I never even heard any of what he was saying. I could only see his mouth open. Probably not just him; everything was in mute; everything was out of my mind now. All that I could see were several situations I would usually lock in a little chest in my head that I labeled "The Unthinkable". What was even worse was I was beginning to form the image of a little note materializing on top of the chest. It read, "Watch your back. Love, Sam."

I shook that out of my head though. Carly needed to be found.

As soon as I got to our hall, I began rubbing my shoulder in advance for the pain it's going to go through. I took about three steps back and charged for the door.

And I immediately regretted it.

The door wasn't locked. Thus, I only ended up hurting myself as I hit the floor. I turned to see that the chain lock had been split in half. It was already broken before I even thought of breaking it.

Panic took over.

From where I was now sitting, I could see Carly's bag and stuff sprawled near the door. I stood and staggered my way to the second floor. My heart was throbbing even worse than the part of my shoulder that hit the ground bad.

'Carly!'

I was already praying and ready to sacrifice anything in exchange for her safety, and thus, for Sam's happiness.

I pushed her room door open, and like water gradually going down the drain, my worries were slowly washed away as I took in the image in front of me.

A realization hit me. I might have underestimated both Carly and Sam.

'Shh!'

This was the first and probably the only time that I didn't shudder in faer at Sam's glare. She placed a finger before her lips, signaling me to shush.

'You'll wake her!' she hissed.

Carly was lying peacefully on her lap, covered in sheets. She was just like sleeping beauty. Her hair was done and her make-up was probably the best I've seen her wear. It wasn't extravagant – something Sam would be comfortable seeing. I didn't need to guess that she was Happy-Birthday-Sam dressed under those sheets for she was still wearing her shoes.

'Sammy?' she called as her hand went out of the covers, searching for Sam's.

'Momma's right here, cupcake,' Sam assured her. She held Carly's searching hand and used the other to play with the brunette's hair.

'Don't leave, okay?'

'I won't.'

I finally felt myself let out the breath I held in my throat since Sam shushed me. My chest was oddly still throbbing though. Probably because of the gasp I held there too long. Or maybe, it had something to do with the tears that threatened to fall. I pulled the sleeve of my shirt and immediately wiped them away. I never expected that.

'Sammy?'

I looked up to see Carly smiling softly.

'I'm here, Carlotta.'

'I'm sorry I didn't make it,' Sam merely chuckled at that. She brushed stray locks away from Carly's face and placed a kiss on her forehead. 'It's almost midnight. Carlotta didn't make it for you.'

The blonde kept her head an inch distant from her best friend's and said, 'But it's not midnight yet, right?'

She rested her chin lightly on the younger Shay's forehead. The brunette sighed in comfort and reached for Sam's cheek.

'Happy birthday, Samster.'

'Yeah, it's my birthday alright.'

I figured that this might not be the time for things to be confronted. Not with Carly like this. Not just "like this" as in "sick" like this, but, more importantly, "like this" as in "even more delighted than any Disney character ever got on her happy ever after" like this.

I sighed slowly and settled on the couch by the awesome ship coffee table. As much as I was feeling content for them because everything was temporarily fine, I chose to stay. So in case Carly needed anything, I could get it for her and Sam wouldn't have to wander far from her.

I smiled at their peaceful image. With that, I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and decided that it was time to give Spencer a call. He must be worried sick.