"I'm sorry, what?" Sam finally answered after a long pause.

"I broke up with Freddie!" Carly clarified, "Last night. Did he tell you??"

The awestruck blonde simply shook her head. "Y-you dumped him?" She asked, wanting Carly to repeat it. Not because it hadn't registered yet, but because she'd never heard happier words in her entire life.

"Ugh, dumped sounds so harsh," She whimpered, "That's why I'd held off on doing it but he said he's been thinking the same thing! I guess it just wasn't meant to be and—"

"Wait, how long have you been wanting to end it?" She strived to hide her desire to scream at Carly for putting her through so much unnecessary misery.

She hesitated to respond, "About since out double date at the bowling alley…"

"But why? He bowled a strike every time…" Her voice trailed off as her mind flashed back.

"Just hold the ball like this," His hand covered hers to put it in the right position. His other hand was gently placed on her waist, "See?"

"Mmm, heh, mph," Was all Sam could manage to say.

"And make sure you're standing like…" He pushed his leg against hers. She went weak at the knees.

"Don't move…" She mumbled.

…He moved.

Sam shook herself out of it and looked back up to meet eyes with a guilt-ridden Carly.

"It's just…okay, you won't get all judge-y on me, right?" Sam gave her a 'well-duh-like-I-have-the-right' look so she continued, "Uh…well what do you think me and…Griffin were doing when we left you and Freddie alone in our lane?"

Moments later, her eyes tripled in size, "No. Way…oh my god, that's why your hair was all messed up when you came back?!"

"We've been secretly dating ever since," Carly admitted shamefully, "And I couldn't do that to Freddie anymore."

Sam stared in shock, but an irrepressible smile plastered itself to her face. Now, nothing was in their way.

Oh, she could see it now. She would run all the way…across the hall, and confess her love to Freddie, not holding anything back anymore. Then, he would pick her up and swing her around and give her the most passionate kiss anyone had ever experienced. They'd dance barefoot around the kitchen for a while before heading out on the balcony, where he'd kneel down and propose. She'd nod with tears streaming down her face and they'd make out until the sun went down. In the end, they'd cuddle up together and drift off to sleep, with nothing in store but happily ever after…

But then she remembered she hated him, and was never talking to him again. Oh well.

***

Sam fiddled with her locker combination again and again, being continuously distracted by Freddie standing in the middle of the hallway, flirting with some stringy-haired skunk-bag

Eventually, she just gave up and hacked it open with a crowbar.

Her thoughts kept falling back to him, half wondering why she could ever tell him she hated him, and half wondering why she couldn't mean it. When had she gotten so hooked on this lame, dorky techno-nerd? And what kept her hanging on? How could someone like her ever—

"Sam!!" Carly yelled, finally getting her attention.

"Oh, hey," She swerved around and shrugged, "What's up?"

"You tell me," The brunette answered flatly.

"What do you mean?" Asked Sam genuinely.

"I mean, it's pretty obvious you're hiding something, and I can't believe my best friend would keep a secret from me like that."

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before it hit her. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly. How had Carly figured it out?? Did she talk in her sleep at their last overnighter? Was she sending off unmistakable Freddie-loving vibes? Did Freddie tell her she'd kissed him? Did he mention he'd kissed her back?

"Oh god, you know?" She finally responded cautiously. Carly nodded firmly.

Had Spencer created some new telepathic invention (Were the Shays millionaires now? Would Sam get some of the profits?), or had Carly been able to read minds all along?? And Sam was supposed to be the one keeping secrets…

"Fine, I admit it, I like Freddie!" Sam said, in an all 'There!-Ya-happy?' sort of way.

"So, just give me back the twenty bucks before--- YOU WHAT?!?" She shrieked.

She jumped back instinctively. Of course Carly hadn't known! No one had. But with Sam's sudden case of word vomit, that wouldn't last long.

Her mind raced, "Wait, maybe I can fix this!"

"Twenty bucks? Right," She ripped it out of her pocket in record time and slammed it into her best friend's hand that had frozen midair.

"I don't care about the money!" Obviously, that was no longer the main subject at hand.

"So, I can keep it?" Sam's tone turned hopeful.

"NO!" She jammed it into her pocket quickly. "You like him?!"

"Me? Like who?" Her eyes glanced around, begging for a way out. Where was a ringing bell when you needed one?

Carly rolled her eyes, "You know, Freddork. Freddifer, Fredderly, Fredweirdo, Fredamame, Fredducine Al-fred-o…"

Briefly distracted, the witty blonde gave herself a pat on the back. She hadn't realized how many clever nicknames she'd coined over the years.

"Freddie," She eventually ended. "Is that true??"

It was too late to deny it anymore. Sam nodded weakly, then turned away ashamed, getting a perfect view of Freddie laughing. What cheesy, pathetic joke could the scrawny-legged wench have made that could be so funny? Something like, "Yeah, this nose is totally real."

The next thing she knew, Carly's arms were around her, squeezing her tight as she bounced excitedly.

"Oh my god, this is the coolest thing ever!" She squealed, "We can double date every Friday night! And us 4 could get a limo to go to the dance together!! Oh, and every weekend, we should—"

With each idea, her excitement-meter rised. Had Carly not been in a great, stable relationship or got her chance to date Freddie to see if she could ever really like him that way, she may have been angry, jealous, or even hurt that her BFF wouldn't have told her sooner. But, right now, this sounded so perfect, there was no reason to hold grudges. Sam decided to cut her off before she started booking a double wedding.

"Woah there, Carly, just stop," She slipped out of the girl's unusually tight grip, "He doesn't even know." At least, she was hoping he didn't. Hoping her little rant to him was a convincing enough lie.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get over there and tell him!" She insisted, nudging her in Freddie's direction.

"I can't," She said, cementing her feet down, "We're not exactly on speaking terms…" She chuckled to herself. That was putting it lightly.

"Why?" Her enthusiasm began to die down, "What happened?"

"I got mad. Said some stuff I shouldn't have said…I feel horrible," Her heart was breathing sighs of relief, glad to finally have someone to talk to.

"Then, stop keeping all this bottled up! Just go talk to him. Things can only get better," She placed a reassuring hand on the lonely girl's shoulder.

"Things can only get better. Things can only get better." Sam repeated in her head, no words having given her as much comfort in a long time. "Better than Creddie kisses and spiteful insults and compulsive lying and cheating girlfriends and hurtful break ups and sleepless nights and mixed signals and unrequited love…"

She smiled, "No more secrets?

"None," the future psychotherapist agreed.

"Well, then I just think you oughtta know," Sam started innocently, "I was Freddie's first kiss."

And with that, she was off, carrying the sudden confidence to leave it all on the line, leaving Carly to feel just a bit out of the loop.