Hey, everyone, I'm back with chapter eleven. :D It's one of my favorites. I don't really have much news... so yeah, enjoy this chapter!
CARLY:
I am slightly ashamed to admit that, at the hospital, we purposely lost Gibby.
It was Freddie's idea. While Gibby was having a deep discussion with one of the patiens in the lobby about politics, of all things, Freddie pulled me aside and hissed, "We have to lose Gibby."
I was shocked at him. "Why?" Gibby was sweet, and always seemed more, I don't know, innocent then everyone else in our grade. It didn't exactly help him, but he'd never done anything mean to me or Freddie. You know, besides threaten to pound the fudge out of Freddie that one time. He had a good reason, though.
"Because I don't want have to go talk to Sam and have to worry about Gibby suspecting anything." His eyes darted back to Gibby, who seemed to be getting pretty worked up. The woman had probably been in here for several years. What political situation could they possibly be talking about?
I crossed my arms. "You just want to give in to hormones and swap spit with Sam."
"That," Freddie said, jabbing a finger at me, "is totally true." I rolled my eyes. "But can we? The fate of iCarly may depend on it."
I giggled. "You can't say big words like fate when wearing a helmet with a purple bunny on it." Freddie had actually decided to listen to his mom about wearing a helmet while driving. Unfortunately, the only one he could find was florescent orange and had a neon purple Easter bunny on it. He flushed red and pulled it off.
"And, I never thought I'd have to keep you from making out with Sam in public," I continued, teasing. "But I can't just let you loose Gibby. You've been blowing him off all week."
"Which is why one more time can't hurt," Freddie pointed out. It was completely illogical, but I've found the more I try to argue with my best friends, the more they became latched on to an idea. I used to be able to just bat my eyelashes at Freddie and that would be it, but Sam was now the keeper of that power. It was very inconvenient.
I groaned. "Ugh, fine. Go ahead and crush the heart of an innocent Gibby."
"Okay, thanks," Freddie said, smiling. "Yo, Gibby, get over here."
Gibby sauntered over. "I love this place! The people here know so much about our government!"
"That's great, Gib," Freddie said, not really listening. "Listen.. Can you go get us some, um… fried chicken!"
"Why?" Gibby asked.
"Because… Sam's going to be starving," Freddie improvised, not at all badly. "You might want to get a lot, because if you don't she may eat my face off."
I patted Freddie on back. "Yeah, she likes his face a lot."
Freddie gave me a withering look, but as usual the clever remark went right over the top of Gibby's head. He was still smiling at us. "I don't get it."
"We don't have time to explain mean jokes," Freddie said impatiently. "Go get some fried chicken! The fate of the world depends on it!"
Gibby nodded, all seriousness. "Aye-aye," he said in a deep, gravelly voice, "Captain." He marched toward the door, which for some reason sent a man in need of a sports bra standing by the door into hysterics. I shivered.
"Now, let's go save Sam from a future of insanity," Freddie said, rubbing his hands together like some evil maniac.
"I think she already has one with you," I mumbled, but followed him to the front desk.
The man at the front desk looked like he had inhaled six cups of coffee in the past six minutes. Every part of him was twitching. It was creepy.
I cleared my throat. "Excuse me?" He looked up, and smiled. A gold tooth glinted in the light.
"Yes, welcome to the Sanctuary at Rutledge-Swanson, how may I help you?" He sounded like a girl.
"Um, well, we're to visit Sam Puckett?" I said, unnerved by the tooth.
The man frowned, and his eyes scanned his computer. "You must have the wrong place. There's no Sam Puckett registered here. However, there is a Sam Schneider, and an Alyssa Puckett."
I exchanged confused looks with Freddie. "Um, our friend visited Sam today. Are you sure she isn't here?"
The man glared at me. "Don't sass me, young lady." I stepped back from the desk, offended.
"Maybe Mrs. Puckett registered Sam under a fake name," Freddie suggested to me.
"Why?" I asked, bewildered.
Freddie gave me a duh look. "The woman uses bras as curtains. She's obviously not right in the head."
I nodded. "Good call." I turned back to the man. "Can we visit Alyssa Puckett?" It seemed like the more obvious choice.
"Alyssa is staying in room 804, but she's one of our 'special guests'," he said, as if we should know what that meant.
"So, we can't visit her?" Freddie clarified.
"No, you can, as long as your in her immediate family." The man frowned at us over the top of his computer. "You don't look like your related -"
"We are," I said quickly. "We're her adopted siblings. I'm, uh, Charlotte, and this is… Edward. We're twins." I hoped the similar brown hair and brown eyes would be enough to get Mr. Twitchy to believe us.
"I'm not sure I believe you," the man said, still frowning at us. "I -"
"My mom is single," Freddie said, trying not to grimace.
"Done. I'll give you my number on your way out." The man slapped down two visitor's passes onto the desk. "Enjoy your visit."
As we walked away, Freddie hi-fived me, without turning around or stopping. "Are you really going to give him your mom's number?" I asked.
Freddie snorted. "Are you kidding? I don't hate my mom that much."
No matter what Twitchy-Man thought was going to happen, we didn't enjoy our visit at all. First, we got lost and Freddie ended up falling into an empty pool when I tripped and crashed into him. Thankfully, he fell in the soon to be shallow end, and he landed on his feet. It also helped that practically every part of his body had been hardened over the years due to Sam's beatings.
Then, we couldn't find room 804, which, due to some idiot being in charge, was on the fourth floor. When the elevator stopped, we were asked to hand over any objects in our possession that could be used as weapons against us. It totally freaked me out, and if it hadn't been Sam in there, I would have marched right back to my apartment and watched Celebrities Underwater without a backwards glance.
Except that it was Sam in there. I walked up to the door, then I hesitated. "Should I knock? What if we've got the wrong room and it's some freaky guy?"
Freddie shrugged. "We won't know unless you go in. I don't think -" Suddenly, a huge woman came from out of no where and jumped on Freddie. They slammed onto the tile with a crash that made the eruption of Mount St. Helens seem like the pop of a Nice Crispy treat.
"The cumquat is ripe! The cumquat is ripe!" She began to scream, still on top of Freddie, who was floundering around under her like a dead fish. I just watched with raised eyebrows. None of the nurses seemed particularly keen on helping him. They didn't seem too surprised, either.
"Why does this always happen to me?" Freddie moaned. "Get off of me!" But when he tried to push her off of him, she shrieked and went even more berserk. Whipping out a neon green extension cord, she began to wrap him in it. Finally snapping back into motion, I hurried over to Freddie and tentatively gave the woman a shove. She shrieked again, stood up, and raced down the hall, her arms waving in the air.
"Help. Me. Up." Freddie hissed from on the ground. I clucked sympathetically, and pulled him up. The green extension cord was wrapped around everything but his right arm. An awkward bow stuck out on his chest. He looked like a present Spencer had tried to wrap.
"Are you okay?" I asked stupidly. Freddie just ignored me, limped over to Sam's door, and opened it with his non-extension corded arm. Following Freddie, I stepped into a room.
Sam was standing in the middle of the room, watching as we came in. As soon as she saw it was us, her face broke into a wide grin. "Carly! Freddie! Oh my God, you guys made it! But how -" she caught sight of Freddie and frowned. "Why are you tied up in a vine?" She sounded kind of freaked out about it, for some reason.
"Forget it," Freddie wheezed, still breathless from the Fat Lady Attack. He limped over to Sam and placed a hand on her shoulder. Hunching over, he said, "You've got… to convince your mom… that I'm not… bad looking."
Sam glanced at both of us, confused. "Why do I need to do that?"
"Because your mom checked you in here because she thinks your insane for liking Freddie!" I said, rolling my eyes. "Gibby showed us pictures."
She was even more confused now. "How did Gibby get pictures?"
"I honestly don't know," I shrugged.
"He's a Gibby," gasped Freddie. "Hey, will someone check to make sure my rib isn't broken?"
"Freddie, honey, I think you need to lie down," Sam said, crouching down so that her face was level with Freddie, who was normally taller than her. I forced myself not to comment on the endearing terms.
"Good plan," he mumbled. He clumped over and flopped onto her bed, breathing like Darth Vader. I chuckled.
"Looks like someone got rid of Gibby for nothing," I said, enjoying myself.
"Shut up," he moaned.
"You killed Gibby?" Sam grabbed my arm, and her eyes were wide with either horror or relief. I decided not to ask.
"No, Freddie just tricked Gibby into going away so he could kiss his little girly-friend," I poked her stomach and giggled. We both glanced at Freddie, who looked like a sumo wrestler had just sat on him. Which was basically true.
"Didn't work out well for him, did it?" Sam observed.
"No, it did not," I agreed.
"I fell into an empty pool," Freddie coughed. Sam gave him an odd look I didn't understand.
"So strange," she murmured, then cleared her throat. "But, you guys, my mom didn't check me in. No one here even knows I'm here. They all think I'm Alyssa. She's my cousin."
"But why -"
"For some crazy genetic reason, we look almost exactly alike. The only difference is our feet, which no one ever notices. She's got feet the size of Manhattan, and mine are tiny. It drives me insane."
"Small feet are good," I said supportively.
"Not if you like kick boxing," Sam grumbled. "Anyway, Alyssa made me and my mom visit, and she tricked my mom into thinking she was me and I was her, so she's at my house scarfing down my leftover ribs and watching my TV, and I'm stuck in her mental hospital!" Sam was yelling by the end, her teeth gnashing.
"That's horrible!" I gasped.
"That's classic Puckett behavior," Freddie pointed out.
"That's so true," Sam admitted.
"Well, c'mon, let's go!" I exclaimed. "We have to tell your mom!"
"Wait," Freddie said as he sat up, looking a little better. "They're not going to let us just waltz away with one of their patients."
"Who cares?" Sam said. "On the count of three, run for it."
"Sure," I shrugged.
Freddie staggered up off the bed. "Yeah, I'm not sure that's going to work, because -"
"One…" Sam grinned. I opened the door just a little bit.
"Guys, are you listening?" Freddie demanded.
"Two…" She walked around behind Freddie, who wasn't really paying attention. I opened the door further.
"Sam, I can't! I'm broken! I -"
"Three!" Sam yelled. She lifted Freddie up in a matter of seconds and hoisted him onto her shoulder. I whipped open the door, and we bolted through the hallway, pushing nurses and doctors out of the way. I heard the fat lady who assaulted Freddie screech, but we kept running. The only time we stopped was when we got into the elevator. The elevator music was totally affecting my adrenaline rush, and so was the freaked out bald man in the elevator with the white mustache. He ran out screaming when the elevator stopped.
So did we. We pelted past everyone, probably wrecking the little sanity the patients had left. We pushed through the revolving doors so fast that they still kept spinning around after we pushed through, and some lady got squashed.
At last, we reached Freddie's car. I leaned against the car door, more breathless then I'd ever been in my life. Even Sam was gasping for breath. She dropped Freddie onto the hot pavement. "Man, what have you been eating?"
"You know, the usual," Freddie muttered. "Twelve raw eggs for breakfast, a protein shake in between meals. The usual."
"If you weren't so broken it made me concerned, I would slap you silly." Sam rolled her eyes.
"Hey!" We all looked up. Gibby was walking towards us, holding six buckets of fried chicken. "I got the chicken -" Then he took a good look. "Man, what'd I miss?"
We all groaned.