Hey, back with chapter ten. Whoa, double digits! Things are progressing really slowly, but they'll get there. Don't worry.
In case you didn't notice, chapter nine was partially based off the series Pretty Little Liars (if you don't know what I'm talking about, you obviously haven't read the eighth book yet). For some reason, the drama in it is hilarious, mainly because the author makes everyone seem super guilty until the end when she just discards everything they learned before and start out on blaming some other random person in the next book. Hehe.
Also, just letting you know. This isn't going to end after I finish the promo. I still have two more potential episodes I want to predict, and then a few more I came up without any prompting. It's kind of like what happens next in the series - so, no OOC! However **SPOILER ALERT** there will be a scene where Freddie makes a very predictable anouncement, and Sam either finds it a mutual feeling or tells him he's wrong. I haven't decided yet... so beware for drama in the distant future!
Finally: I went to the traffic page and did a little research. Of the near 2000 people who have visited this story, only 12% of them have read to the end. So, a warm thank you to anyone who has read the entire story so far!
FREDDIE:
I hated to admit it, but I was worried. Not that I should be or anything. Sam definitely had other things to do than watch her phone and wait for me to text her so she could text me back. But she still usually answered my texts in an hour or so. It was three now, and the last time I'd heard from her was around ten. All she had said then was 'need fried chicken - got any?' Like that helped.
Sighing, I grabbed my phone (the last thing I needed was for my mom to read my text messages again) and left my apartment. I needed to shoot some footage of Carly and Sam for a bit where they ride on tiny computer-generated chinchillas around the studio.
"I'm coming in," I called as I opened the door. Carly was on the phone and pacing worriedly around the couch. After a few moments, she sighed and hung up.
"Something's up with Sam," she said unhappily. "We were supposed to meet for lunch but she never showed up, and now she won't text me and she's late for the iCarly stuff. Something's wrong."
"Sam's always late," I pointed out, but not really comforting anyone, which included me. I grabbed a chip from the table. "Hey, are these salt and vinegar chips? I love those!"
"Freddie!"
"Sorry." I dropped the chip quickly.
"Yeah, Sam's always late, but we have leftover ribs from last night, and Sam knows it. She wouldn't be late if she could help it." She started to pace faster. "Plus she always texts back, so I don't know why -"
"Maybe she got stuck doing something. Maybe her phone died. She could be coming up the elevator right now, and we just don't know it. She -"
"Would you be quiet, Freddie!" Carly burst out, running her hands through her hair. "I'm just trying to have a decent freak out and your ruining it!" I made a face but didn't comment. Carly, with all here snippets on how normal she seemed compared to me and Sam, was really kind of nuts.
She glanced at her phone again, and groaned. "Where is she?"
"I know where Sam is." We turned around. Gibby was leaning on Carly's door, smiling knowingly and nodding his head.
"Well, where is she?" Carly demanded after a moment when Gibby didn't say anything.
Gibby wandered in. "I was following Sam around, and I managed to acquire these high res pics." He held out three pictures. One was of Sam and her mom in some sort of hotel lobby. The next showed Sam, who was for some reason furious, sitting on a bed in a green room with her fists clenched. The last one was of Gibby in spy glasses. I decided to ignore that.
"Where'd you take the pictures?" Carly asked.
"And why were you following Sam around?" I added, trying not to sound too boyfriend-like. "Not that it bothers me or anything, because it doesn't, but -" Carly elbowed me hard. I nodded. "I'll shut up."
"Hey, I'm the interrogator, I'll ask the questions!" Gibby snapped.
"But you're not -"
"Uh, did you not hear what I just said?" Gibby interrupted Carly rudely. She blinked, and murmured something under her breath, but didn't respond. "The pictures were taken at the Sanctuary at Rutledge- Swanson."
I stared at him, stunned. "The mental institute?"
"What the heck is Sam doing there?" Carly shrieked.
"I think her mom checked her in," said Gibby. "Hey, are those salt and vinegar chips?" He grabbed the bowl off the coffee table. "Can I take these?"
"Why?" I spluttered. I tried to think of any moment where Sam had been more insane then her mom. Nothing came to mind.
"Because they're really good. One time -"
"Gibby!"
"Sam's not insane!" Carly protested. "She's carnivorous and likes to hit people with bacon, but she's not insane! Why would her mom think that?"
"Has she been acting weird lately?" Gibby asked seriously.
"No, everything's been normal…" Carly trailed off, and looked at me with a horrified expression. "…Except that Sam's been dating someone new." Carly jerked her head toward Gibby, unable to say anymore with giving anything away. But I understood.
It made sense, sort of. Sam had always hated me, and her mom knew it. Heck, everyone knew it. It used to be one of the laws of nature, like 'what goes up must come down'. If someone tells you they don't believe in gravity, what do you do? Send them to the nearest mental institute for serious help. If Sam tells you that she thinks Freddie is this smoking hot guy who is insanely awesome and that she's desperately in love with him - I'm obviously embellishing it a bit, but you get what I mean - you might become a bit concerned.
Not that Sam was having in depth conversations with her mom or anything. I'd been hanging out at Sam's, since her mom was off at her boyfriend's and wouldn't be back until late that night. I was trying to get her to study (if I was going to date her I might as well teach a good lesson or two along the way, me being the responsible one) and then we were kissing on her couch, then her mom walked in with cold Chinese take-out. I left very quickly after that. I would've stayed, to make sure Sam didn't get grounded or anything, except her mom began to beat me with the curtains... and I'm not talking about the normal curtains, if you know what I'm saying. I had nightmares that night about where those 'curtains' had been.
Anyway, Sam's mom found out about the whole Sam-and-Freddie-together-in-a-non-violent-way thing. Our cover would probably have been blown if Sam hadn't found some arcade tickets in her pocket and bribed her mom into not telling anyone. I'm not sure what she did with the tickets, but I'm just glad Sam did it.
"Sam's mom did find out a few days ago," I said, frowning.
"Find out about what?" Gibby asked.
"Did she freak?"
"Kind of. I mean, she has this rule about no boys alone in the house with Sam, for… well, you know."
"Find out about what?" Gibby repeated impatiently.
"Oh my God! I beat she's trying to punish Sam or something," Carly realized. The freaking out she'd been doing when I walked in was starting to look less significant compared to now.
"We've got to go get her out of there!" I said urgently.
"Find out about what?" Gibby yelled.
"Nothing!" Carly and I both said at the same time, too stressed out to make Gibby feel like he was part of the conversation.
"Can Spencer drive us?" I asked.
"No, he's out at the library with Jenna. You'll have to."
I backed away. "No, no. The last time I drove, my mom made me watch six driving safety movies in a row and made me promise I'd wear a helmet next time."
"Freddie!" Carly said desperately, grabbing my shoulders. "Your g… Sam is locked up in a insane asylum and you're our only hope, but you won't help us because your mommy said no?"
I realized I was going to lose this argument, and nodded. "I'll get the keys." We hurried out of her apartment, Gibby trailing behind us.
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Gibby whined again.
"Gibby!"