This chapter has some sweet moments, some throwbacks (like way, way back to the super old Seddie days), and some rather uncomfortable encounters...

Chapter 34: My First Anniversary

Almost a month had passed since our trip to Las Vegas, and iCarly fans still hadn't forgotten about it.

They went back to comment on our stream from the party any time Tom Ransom did something, and they contacted us through the various social media pages Freddie had set up to let us know they thought we should do another series at an event like that. There were many requests for the footage we didn't share with the world.

But most of all, they had opinions about my relationship with Freddie.

When I say opinions, I don't mean they were simply telling us they were excited we were officially in a relationship. I mean they were having all out conversations online with one another about how Freddie and I worked as a couple and all sorts of other minute details I wouldn't have otherwise considered.

The first time Freddie brought this up to Carly and me, she and I laughed and rolled our eyes. But over time, it just kept happening. Carly asked Freddie if we should turn off some options on our site or block people, but Freddie pointed out that if they weren't doing anything malicious, this may come off in a negative way to our viewers.

So, instead, Carly took over reading all of the commentary, and would usually only let Freddie access those features to do technological things. This way, we didn't have to think about the fact that apparently the world was very concerned with our dating life.

Don't get me wrong, I was also invested in it, because I was the one dating Freddie, and it was going well so far. We acted pretty much the same way we always had, except I was less violent, he was a little bolder when it came to invading my personal space, and we went on dates that we tried to keep as non-mushy as possible.

But if I was going to hear opinions about our relationship from anyone other than Freddie, I was only going to accept them from Carly. I didn't see why anyone else really cared since no one else was affected by it.

As it turns out, apparently there were groups of iCarly fans who had secretly been wishing for this for years. They must've been watching our show with weird glasses on, because there was no love-hate happening for most of those years. Just hate. Or at least strong annoyance.

It was thanks to these fans that Carly looked up at me when we were sitting in the studio and asked, "what are you and Freddie going to do for your anniversary?"

My very coherent and definitely not at all dumb reply was, "our anniversary?"

"Well, yeah, it's going to be a month since you became a couple in just a few days!"

"How do you even know that?"

"I was there."

"Yeah, but like, you remembered the date and everything."

"I can get you a calendar if you want."

"The sass is coming out. Momma likes it."

She rolled her eyes. "A lot of fans were asking. I'm not going to tell them, obviously. That's your business, not the world's. But now I'm curious what you guys are doing!"

My shrug was not an attempt to play off the topic this time, but instead a sign that I really had no idea. "We haven't talked about it. I'm guessing we're not going to do anything. It's just a month."

That was the wrong answer, based on how horrified Carly looked in reply. "Sam, you can't do nothing for your one month anniversary! It's a big deal! Especially in high school, making it a whole month with someone is significant."

I swallowed, starting to feel a little uneasy thanks to how serious she was making this seem. "No, Carls. It's fine. Really. It's not a big deal." I started tugging at the end of my hair, watching it straighten out and then curl back up as a way to avoid looking at my best friend. I may be strong, but I am not necessarily the bravest when it comes to facing emotions.

She let out a sigh of what I think was probably disappointment. "I will let this go for now. But I still think you and Freddie should do something."

"I'll keep that in mind." I didn't say it in a mean way, and honestly, I would keep it in mind, because it was going to be hard to ignore Carly's words until the monthaversary or whatever passed.

The day before the anniversary of the day Freddie and I somewhat unintentionally became boyfriend and girlfriend arrived, and things weren't any different between us. They were just like they had been the week before, when none of this anniversary chizz had sprouted in Carly's brilliant yet dangerous noggin yet.

Which is why I was so caught off guard when she sat down next to me on her couch and announced, "Freddie asked me what he should do for your anniversary."

My eyes got big enough that I could feel the air around them, and I shook my head, not really wanting to believe her and also pretty confused. "What do you mean?"

"He started panicking and said he didn't know what to do to make it special and then asked for my advice."

"So the nub wants to do something? Why didn't he tell me this?"

"He said he was afraid any ideas he had would seem lame to you, so it was probably better not to do anything, but if I had ideas, I should let him know."

"Fredward is so dumb," I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face for a moment, trying to process this new information. "He's always lame but obviously I'd still like his ideas." Carly seemed rather pleased when I said that, as if it was what she hoped to hear. "But now this means I have to do something for him and there's only part of a day left."

When Freddie had gotten me to agree to go on a date with him, I had made it clear from the start I would not become mushy. I really like Freddie, but liking Freddie and turning into a pathetic ball of mush do not need to go together. Carly and Freddie had both agreed on that point multiple times. This was why our dates were fun, but never super romantic; we both preferred to just spend time together without making a big deal out of it.

But I'd also never given him a gift that wasn't something rude, and now that we were a couple, I was expected to put real thought into this. Sam Puckett wasn't exactly the thoughtful, caring type. That was all Carly.

Sure, I came up with some nice gifts to give her over the years, but I had so much time to plan ahead and spot something she would like. Now I had one day, and I was coming up short.

"What if you guys have dinner together?"

"We have dinner together kind of a lot now."

"Yes, but if you plan to have dinner together with the intention of recognizing the importance of the day, then it will mean more to you two."

I thought about this for a minute, and, unsurprisingly, Carly's point made sense.

"Okay, but I don't want to do anything fancy because fancy makes me uncomfortable. But you're supposed to do fancy for anniversaries."

"It's a traditional choice, but Freddie's not going to expect fancy. If he was, he'd be dating someone else. Or maybe a Baroque painting."

Even though I didn't know what a Baroque painting was compared to other types of paintings, I still laughed, picturing Freddie at a candlelight dinner across the table from some stuffy piece of artwork.

Carly thought for a moment and I kept quiet to let that happen, not wanting to distract from whatever genius was going through her mind. A moment later, she said, "you guys went to a cooking class on your first date. What if you made something you learned from the class? I remember where you left the booklet of recipes they gave you."

That did sound clever, which is why she probably looked so disappointed when I groaned, "but that takes effort."

"A little thought goes a long way."

"What - are you turning into a philosopher now?"

"No, silly. I'm just saying it will probably mean a lot to Freddie if you take the time to make whatever you're going to eat for dinner. He knows you wouldn't ever usually spend time doing something like that, so the gesture will stand out."

"Only maybe for you."

"What?"

"I'd make you food, too. You know, if you were sick or something."

"You always do that," she smiled, drifting into her memories for a few seconds before snapping back to the plan. "So, what do you say?"

With a long dramatic sigh, I leaned back and nodded. "Fine. I will become a chef for one night for Fredward. But I'm not making something from the class."

"Why not?"

"I'm making meatballs."

"Why? Do you have a meatball recipe?"

"No, but I think he'll like them."

"You're the one with the meat addiction, Sam."

I shrugged. "I think he may like them, anyway."

Since Carly is far too nice of a person, she helped me make the meatballs the next day. However, since it was my anniversary gift, she insisted on only helping sofar as it kept her kitchen clean and me unharmed, which meant I did end up doing most of the work.

Meatballs turned out not to be that difficult, so even the lumps I formed came out smelling delicious and not looking too hideous.

Since Freddie's mother was visiting her cousin until the next day, we were planning to have our dinner in his apartment. We'd texted each other in the morning and acknowledged what Carly now officially deemed our monthaversary, but we hadn't seen each other yet, because Freddie had a ton of errands to run in the morning and Carly and I had spent the afternoon making meatballs he wasn't supposed to know existed.

Carly leant me clean clothes so I didn't smell quite as much like meatballs as the bowl full of them did, and then we were stuck sitting around waiting until Freddie texted the okay signal or knocked on the door. This was mostly because I didn't know when he was getting back to his apartment, and while I could just break in and wait for him there, it was more fun to talk to Carly, and breaking and entering didn't sound like good anniversary behavior.

When I felt my phone buzz, I got up, moving the meatballs to balance in one arm before grabbing my phone. "See ya later, Shay. Thanks for your help with these," I lifted up the bowl a little bit for emphasis.

"I was happy to help! Plus, you did most of it yourself, and the meal was your idea."

"It came from you."

"Oh, would you stop delaying and get over to your dinner already?" Even as she said it, she gave me a quick hug before nearly pushing me out the door.

I glanced down at my phone before knocking on Freddie's door, and stopped in confusion. His text said something was wrong in the apartment so I should meet him by the fire escape and we could figure out what to do from there.

Considering it was the only convenient landmark in the hallway that didn't usually have people coming and going to interrupt like the elevators did, I didn't think much of it. Why I didn't consider he could've just gone across the hall to Carly's apartment, I'll never know.

When I got to the fire escape, Frednub was sitting on the windowsill with the window open.

"Hey, what's wrong with your apartment?" I asked, getting closer. Instead of replying, Freddie just started to smile in a mischievous way I found cuter than I like to admit. Seconds later, I was close enough to see why.

Out on the fire escape, blankets and a few pillows were set on the ground and the last few steps, with his PearPod player on the stairs and a lapdesk to use as a table in the middle.

"You did… all this?" I swirled my finger around, gesturing to the setup. "I thought Carly said she was going to do the decorating thing."

When Freddie smiled, it was a bit of a guilty look, though a proud one, too. "Yeah, I had no idea what to do for our anniversary, so she came up with the idea to make things look cozy and normal. But I thought… why not bring them out to the fire escape? That would've been weird to her, so I just transferred everything over this afternoon."

"You're such a nub," I informed him. But even as I said it, I leaned closer, and he gave me a very quick kiss.

"But I'm your nub."

"I'm so fortunate." I rolled my eyes since I refused to turn into a mushy person, but I nudged him so he knew I was teasing.

Freddie nodded his head down toward the bowl in my hands, which was covered with tin foil, per Carly's instructions to maintain the dish's warmth. "And I thought Carly was picking up food."

I shrugged, but I was glad he'd noticed. "She did help me measure stuff, but, uh, she suggested I make something from our cooking class."

"And did you?"

"Nope," I grinned, as if me not following instructions was the absolute greatest piece of news in the world. Though he eyed me curiously, Freddie ducked onto the fire escape, getting the hint he didn't get to know what I'd brought just yet.

In the end, I didn't keep him waiting too long. Once he was out on the fire escape, I pulled off the foil and held out the bowl to him. "Meatball?"

The joke worked, because he just started laughing. After finally letting that pass, he gestured for me to join him. "This time I'll actually say yes before you throw any over the edge. Mostly because I'm way more confident you're not trying to poison me."

By then we were both laughing, but eventually we got ourselves to sit down and place the meatballs on the lap desk between us. I had also come with two forks, so we were well prepared.

Forking a meatball, Freddie looked up at me. Though we'd been friends for some time now, had something going on between us for a while, and been a real couple for a month, seeing the way his eyes seemed to cloud over as he looked at me and did that thing with his eyebrows that made my stomach twist still somehow threw me off more than I was used to.

"Hey, Sam," he started, his amusement with himself growing. "I hate you."

"Hate you, too," I replied.

Unlike years prior, when that was us confirming we would never again speak of our kiss, it was now apparently code for wanting to kiss, because we both easily leaned in, and I heard him put down his fork in favor of moving his hands into my hair, which I was more than fine with at the moment.

Just as I took hold of his shirt collar to pull him closer, I heard a very high pitched noise of horror from way too close by to not have anything to do with us.

When we pulled out of our kiss, we were equally shocked to find none other than Mrs. Benson staring at us as if we were a multi-headed monster breathing germs over her favorite pair of cleaning gloves.

"Uhhhhh…" was all I managed to get out.

Freddie wasn't doing any better, though he finally registered the situation enough to let go of me and sit back down, saying only, "Mom?"

That was followed by more angry staring. When I say Mrs. Benson had the dagger eyes of a vicious hawk, I am not kidding; that lady can stare down almost anything. Thanks to my own mother's tendency to stare at me until I accepted her weird requests, I wasn't fazed and kept looking right back. Even so, my heart was pumping way too fast, and I tried to come up with good escape routes, which was harder than you'd think, considering I was on a fire escape. I was pretty sure she'd come after me no matter where I went.

"Freddie, what are you doing?" she made it sound like he'd been sticking his hand in toxic goo and then eating it.

"Um… having dinner?"

"Why is that a question? Are you not having dinner? And why is Samantha with you?"

He shook his head like it would clear the thoughts out of his head. "No, we are having dinner, and Sam's here because we're having dinner together."

"Why would you want that? I thought you and Samantha didn't get along."

"We've been friends for a long time now, Mom."

"Really? And do you kiss all of your friends? I'm going to have to make up a rhyme for you if you can't remember that's inappropriate."

Freddie was starting to get annoyed, judging by the way he sounded like he was trying to control the tone of his voice. I had a feeling it was hard for most people to win a battle with this woman. "I don't need a rhyme," he replied, standing up as he did it so they were on eye level with one another. "Sam and I have been friends for a long time, but now she's my girlfriend, and that's why I was kissing her."

Even though I'd thought us kissing made it safe to assume we were together, I was apparently very wrong, because Mrs. Benson looked as though someone had slapped her and she'd forgotten where she was.

Time seemed to tick by at the most painful pace ever, until finally Mrs. Benson cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter and more cautious, like Freddie was a nervous animal in a zoo she was trying to make feel comfortable. "Freddie, honey, are you sure that's the best idea?"

Freddie looked more confused than anything. His mother had a lot of opinions about every part of his life, but it seemed like this was not the reaction he expected from her when she eventually discovered we were dating. "What do you mean?"

"Well… I know Samantha is your friend, apparently…"

"Girlfriend."

"Yes. But I just wonder if… maybe it's… well she's just too aggressive, Freddie. It's a bad idea."

Now it was Freddie's turn to look like someone had slapped him across the face - which, for the record and for Mrs. Benson's knowledge, I did not do. I took this as my cue to stand up, because if I have to be insulted, I'd rather be able to fight back as fast as possible.

As it turned out, I didn't need to fight Mrs. Benson, because Freddie kept talking.

"It's not a bad idea, Mom. You don't know anything about our relationship, and this is exactly why." I guessed it was only one of the many reasons, but I didn't interrupt. "Is Sam a violent person? Yes. But she's so much less so than she used to be, and she doesn't hurt me." I appreciated that, for the sake of this conversation's success, he hadn't said anymore. Because there were too many wedgies in the past to count.

"Sam and I really like each other, and maybe we don't show that the way you want, because, yeah, sometimes she punches my shoulder. But the thing is, then I punch right back. And not hard. We're just more comfortable teasing each other, but it's not a bad thing. It's all good natured and, by now, it's pretty well balanced. So if you have a problem with Sam other than her aggressive tendencies, then let me know, because otherwise, you have nothing to worry about." He was gesturing toward me as if I was currently demonstrating my restraint (which, frankly, I was, since years ago I would've used conversation like this as an excuse to kick him, and now I just wanted to kiss him, instead).

Mrs. Benson looked truly daunted, as Carly would say, by this turn of events. All she eventually came up with was, "you're too young to have a serious girlfriend."

"I'm seventeen, Mom. And you weren't saying that when you were trying to set me up with your friends' daughters from the Germs Are Whack Club."

Understanding her arguments weren't going to get her very far, she finally just raised her face as if there was something gross nearby. Instead of trying to break us up at that very moment any longer, she just looked at Freddie with her scary bird eyes and said, "there will be none of this in our apartment."

It wasn't until she walked away that Freddie and I looked at each other and started cracking up, aware that warning was a little too late.

"That was… something," I said at last, sitting back down.

He ran a hand through the back of his hair and sighed before joining me. "Happy anniversary… Not exactly how I wanted this to go. I didn't know she was coming back early."

"At least now your mom knows so you don't need to worry about her finding out, I guess." My weak smile did little to make that sound like it was actually so great.

"My guess is she's definitely not coming back, so why don't we enjoy some meatballs," he suggested. "Though, maybe we should talk about all of that…"

I shrugged. "I don't know if we need to talk about it. Your mom hates me, you don't, you stood up for me and even though I prefer to fight people, myself, I've definitely never been this attracted to you. So I don't think we really need to discuss much."

"Not even just to get it over with?" he asked, his knowing smile way too teasing in the spot where we last made this exchange.

"Not even just to get it over with," I confirmed, picking up his fork and shoving it his way.

Not quite done with the meatball yet, Freddie looked at me curiously. "What is this about never being more attracted to me than you are now?"

"Chew with your mouth closed, Benson. Don't be gross." I stuck out my tongue, making a face of disgust, but I smiled into my bite of meatball, anyway.

I hope you enjoyed that mess of a chapter! Let me know your thoughts in the comments or through a message.

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