After the out-of-control artist incident, I left for school. I had a lot of time to think about the situation. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. I couldn't imagine Sam being involved with public displays of affection. She certainely didn't like to watch other people's.
But it turned out that I didn't need to worry. When I got to school, Freddie was standing at his locker, staring inside. And he looked mad. Very mad.
"Hey mister grumpy gills," I said, "Why the angry face?"
"Look," He said, pointing to his locker. The walls were covered in mustard. And I don't mean yellow mustard. I mean that really gross smelly mustard. The kind my grandpa in Yackama puts on his brautwurst.
Sam walked up to us. "What up my homie?" She asked. Then she looked at Freddie, "And you."
"Well," Freddie said, "I'd be a lot better if my locker was not covered in condiments."
Thank god, I thought. They're being mean to each other.
So then Sam put her finger into the locker and ate some of the mustard off the side.
"Ewww!" I cried. Freddie just shook his head.
"I think it's time for class," I said, trying to get them away from each other.
And then Sam pulled out the offending mustard and squirted Freddie in the face with it. And then he flicked some of it on her. And then I left.
***
Freddie and Sam stayed behind for a bit, and waited until Carly was gone.
"I suppose that when you said you weren't going to stop messing with me, you meant it?" Freddie asked.
"Nope. That would be too weird."
"True."
The warning bell rang. They both turned to leave for class, without a kiss. But before he left, Freddie turned around.
"I noticed the mustard heart in my locker, by the way."
"I'm not all evil, Benson."