'I think there's so much more to Sam as a character, and I think she goes much deeper than this.' - Jennette McCurdy
Author's Note: You probably know if you're reading this, but on the off chance you don't, Jennette McCurdy has a book coming out called I'm Glad My Mom Died. The quote above is from a feature article about her and the book in The Washington Post. A lot of such articles have appeared in the last week or so (in fact I just got notification of another one) because the publication date for the book, at the time of this writing, is tomorrow. The book's been rapturously well-received by critics, who declared it a "stunning" must-read "delivered with captivating candor and grace."
No one's likely to say that about this story (though hey, don't let me stop you, if you want to to), but I hope you will find it fun, nevertheless...
They were sitting with Spencer and Carly, watching the How the Grinch Stole Christmas TV special in the Shay's living room. It was Christmas Eve, and three months after the breakup.
Man – child that he was, Spencer loved cartoons, and this was one of his favorites. He always made them watch it with him, every year.
Well, "made" really only applied to Carly, who spent most of the half – hour twisting and turning in her seat, wanting to get back out there for those last – minute sales.
Sam loved cartoons at least as much as Carly's older brother did, but few people knew about it since it was not "cool." One person who did know about it was Freddie, who had no quarrel with her about this special, at least. Freddie had a not – so - secret love for the story ever since his mom read him the book version before he could read. In fact, wanting to be able to read the book himself had been one of the things that inspired him to learn to read.
For some reason this year the special had reminded Carly about a doll she'd really wanted when she was seven and as the credits rolled, she and Spencer were affectionately teasing each other, him calling her a baby," about whether he had bought it for her or their dad.
He insisted he remembered working extra hours at his high school job to get the money, she insisted she remembered pointing it out at the mall and their dad striding in and putting his credit card down on the counter.
All this was going on in the background as Freddie surreptitiously stole a glance at his ex. Maybe there'd been too much sugar in the lemonade, because he found himself with the urge to say something to her.
For a week right after the breakup they'd managed to pretend it was just the same ol' same ol', it didn't matter and they were moving on. But they'd slowly stopped talking to each other about anything except iCarly and school projects. Now they hardly spoke at all.
He felt a little taken aback by the intensity of his feelings.
...
She was feeling a rush of excitement herself, a skittish excitement. She got a picture in her brain of how her cat Frothy had been before she'd gained his confidence: There was so much implied affection there, but it was gonna take work to dig deep enough to let it out.
Yes. That was how she felt.
Find your way back to me, loverboy. Please.
But what she said was,
"Why are you staring at me, buttmunch?"
"I wasn' t..." He started to say.
"Yes, you were. Do I have a pimple or something?"
"No, I...I was just trying to decide if I believe you about 'Melanie' or not."
"That again?"
...
He wanted to say something about how she made him feel like the Grinch at the end of the TV special when his heart grows three sizes and he finds the strength of "10 Grinches, plus two!" But what came out when he opened his mouth got mixed up on the way and began with "Look, dollbaby -"
Then he stopped up short. Where the hell had that come from?
"Dollbaby?" A laugh escaped her warm; soft – looking lips and her head tilted in surprise. A smile remained on her face but he thought he detected a trace of fear in her eyes. "What?"
"I mean – it's – um -"
...
The time came to exchange gifts.
He had bought her, when they were dating, a small but not inexpensive (for a boy in high school) toy tiara. It was to have been their joke about how he called her "Princess Puckett." He'd wanted to replace it under current circumstances but his mom wouldn't let him spend the money, and Carly insisted he had to give Sam something or she wouldn't let him in. He murmured something something to her about how it was stupid, and she probably shouldn't open it until she got home.
...
She caught a moment when Carly and Spencer weren't looking to gesture him, with a nod, out into the hallway. When he stepped out and the door closed behind them, he looked at her expectantly.
"Follow me, please," she said, feeling very self-conscious (not least because she'd said please).
He followed her to the fire escape, where reaching behind her she pulled a very thin, haphazardly wrapped folder out of her pants. He looked puzzled. She could tell he was about to speak; in fact he started to with "Let's ta-"
She pressed the folder onto his chest with one hand and with the other raised a finger to her lips.
Then she leaned forward, meeting his forehead with hers.
"I don't wanna talk. Her voice was surprisingly choked with emotion. "We always get in trouble when we talk. Just look at these, and text me when you know what it means."
She put the folder into his hands; without saying another word, she went back inside.
...
In the folder there was a series of four drawings, one to a page.
The first was a portrait of herself, recognizable even if she hadn't drawn a little arrow pointing with the word "me."
The next appeared to be the same picture, only closer up, so you could see that a thought bubble appeared in one of her eyes.
The third was a quarter closer yet; now you could see that the thought bubble had a tiny little globe of the world within it.
On the last page you could see that at the top of the little world, inside the thought bubble; inside the eye, there was a small figure. Small, but recognizable as Freddie. Him, she hadn't labeled. He knew how she drew him.
...
She was on pins and needles that night until her text alert pinged.
Eye think the world of U, 2
She felt a rush of emotion but she did not cry, because she'd already done enough crying that evening when she opened the tiara.
A few minutes later, a picture appeared on her screen of a little stuffed pig with a necklace around its neck. Then a message.
Text me when you get why this makes me think of you, or something I want to call you.
...
Back in the Benson apartment, lying in bed with his face illuminated only by his phone screen, Freddie pursed his lips. He was pretty sure she'd get it since they'd grown up with the same cultural touchstones but what if she was offended or hurt, thinking he was calling her a pi-
The response came before a minute had passed.
I get it...BABE.
…
You've gotten even better as a cartoonist, he wrote. I wish you'd sho
Suddenly it stopped. She waited another few minutes for him to finish the line but nothing came over. Until -
Sam
I still love you.
Breaking up was a huge mistake. Can we go out again?
She sat up in bed pulling the blanket around herself. He was taking her breath away and she reached for a sardonic comment to make her feel less exposed.
Have you been drinking?
No reply came back to her for long enough that she began to fear her wise – gal exterior had really dissuaded him. No damn it no you had 15 years of this tell him w-
Freddie?
The lack of response coming on the screen felt sullen. In a rush she typed something out and tapped "send" before she could re – think it.
I do miss my boyfriend.
And after a moment:
Your boyfriend misses being one. I mean – being yours.
So did we just make up?
Feels like it.
And then she really surprised herself by adding:
OO; XX: Hugs and kisses.
,,,look who's always calling me a nub. That was completely sappy.
I know but if you can't be sappy on Christmas Eve...besides, maybe it was a promise.
She sent him one more picture, clearly taken by herself at arms length. In it, she was smiling but looking down and for a moment, he thought she'd been overcome with a wave of shyness. But then he realized – she wanted to make sure he saw the tiara atop her head.
Merry Christmas, boyfriend.
Merry Christmas, Princess Puckett.
END