A/N: Hi there! Happy summer aha. My prom is hopefully coming up soon and I am so excited. So, I wrote this in honour of it. Please enjoy aha x

Carriage

"Isn't it so exciting?" Carly asked with a grin, as she walked into her bedroom, her hair in a towel. She grabbed her hairdryer and handed her makeup bag to Sam. "We're both going to prom! With grade two hotties!"

Sam rolled her eyes, touching up some mascara. Grade two hotties. The code her brunette friend had made in middle school to separate the different types of hot boys – grade two was the one before the highest, according to Carly, and apparently a grade one hottie was too difficult to find at seventeen. "It isn't that big of a deal. You and Brad are past the six-date mark already."

"Yes, but you and Carson," Carly squealed. "Oh, this is exciting! You didn't forget your dress, did you?"

"Of course, I didn't," Sam said with a small laugh. She gestured to the dress bag laying on the bed beside her. "It's right here…but, uh, I might need help fitting into it. The twins don't exactly fit right."

Carly nodded. "Oh, no, you're not going to use that eyeshadow, are you?"

Sam frowned, looking at the red colour. "What's wrong with it?"

"It won't go with your dress."

"Oh well," Sam shrugged, not caring as she piled on the red eyeshadow and applied some eyebrow gel. Carly came over to help with her lipstick and blush. "Whoa, calm down with that blush. I'll look like a tomato."

"You look fine," Carly insisted, but as soon as she turned away, Sam was already wiping her face with a mineral wipe. "Pink or red lipstick?"

"I couldn't care less," Sam hummed.

Carly didn't reply but instead retrieved her dress from her wardrobe. Freddie was supposed to be stopping by before leaving to pick up Wendy – she had asked him in the hallway of Ridgeway High and for a reason still unclear, he had said yes, and they were suddenly talking about corsage designs over lunch. Sam, watching the two interact, felt a small pang of jealousy in her stomach. It had only been a few months since her and Freddie had broken up, after all, and they were off to separate colleges in only three months.

"I wonder what Wendy will be wearing," Carly said excitedly. "I kept insisting to Freddie that we should all go together, but apparently, Wendy's mum wanted pictures of the two before they left." Sam was quiet, not that Carly noticed. "Mrs Benson was so excited too – she was telling Spencer in the hall how happy she was that Freddie had found a girl who focused on her studies and who went to church." Sam scoffed. "I think she was just happy Freddie had found someone else after, you know, your breakup."

"Ah, yes, I must be a bad influence as I don't go to church or give a bat's shit about school."

"I'm sure it wasn't meant like that," Carly tried to reassure, but both her and Sam knew different. Mrs Benson held grudges, and for some reason, she despised the idea of Sam and her son being something more than friends.

"Guys, Freddie is here!" Spencer called up the stairs. "Should I send him up?"

"We'll be down in a sec," Carly called back. She grabbed her clutch bag and gave Sam a look. "Come on. You could at least pretend to enjoy yourself. Brad set you two up and Carson looked so happy to be going with you."

Sam scoffed. "He asked if I thought my dress was slutty. When I said no, he said he wanted me to fix that." Carly looked at her, not replying, before leaving the room.

She called back to her blonde friend. "He's a footballer. Most of them are like that."

When the two got to the top of the stairs, Freddie was standing there, grinning, in his black suit and a light blue shirt. A red flower was stuck to his left lapel, a red tie around his neck and a matching red handkerchief in his breast pocket. He gazed up at the two girls, but even though Carly was rocking her little black number, he couldn't keep his eyes off of Sam. Her dress was just above the knee as she tugged at her black jacket, complaining that it was itchy. Carly told her to be quiet and that she "looked worth a billion dollars." Sam retorted that she hoped so with how much the dress cost.

"I've got to get a picture!" Spencer insisted, rushing off to his room like an Olympic athlete to find his camera he'd "borrowed" from Socko's cousin Flash but forgotten to give back. Freddie looked back at the girls with a chuckle.

"Where's Wendy?" Carly asked. The doorbell rang, and she went over to the door, still waiting for Freddie's reply. She greeted Brad with a hug and invited him in. He opened his mouth to say something, pointedly looking at Sam, but he didn't have the chance before Freddie started to speak.

"Oh, uh, funny story," Freddie said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "She, uh, kind of ditched me for her ex-boyfriend. He rode up to her house on her motorbike and then said she was the only one he wanted."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "And people say romance is dead." She was already making her way over to the kitchen to feast on the lasagne waiting on the kitchen table. The lasagne looked a lot more appetising than the senior prom felt right now.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Freddie," Carly sighed. "I'm sure you can hang around with us. Brad and Sam won't mind." Brad nodded along, and Carly looked over at Sam. She frowned but didn't say anything – hanging out with the guy she was still in love with all evening while she was supposed to be with another guy, ah, yes, sounded lovely.

"I'm baaack—Sam! Get away from my lasagne!" Spencer shrieked, looking mortified. Sam dropped the spoon with a groan and complained that she had just eaten Spencer's cooking. "No offence taken," he hummed. "I'm having a girl here." He looked quite proud of him as he grinned and educated the group on his newest girl. She was a thirty year old divorced therapist.

"She sounds brilliant," Sam said sarcastically.

Carly sighed and said her name in a disappointed tone.

"Right, come gather round," Spencer said, waving the group over to where him and Freddie were stood. "I'd like to get some photos of my little sister's, oh, and her annoying friends who just come round and hog my food and couch's senior prom." He looked at Brad. "I haven't known you long enough to make a comment about you."

"Shouldn't we wait for Carson?"

"That's what I've been trying to say," Brad said. "Sam, uh, Carson, he told me to tell you he couldn't make it." Sam stood, agape. Someone really ditched her the night of Prom…huh, this certainly had taken a turn. But she laughed it off, like she always had, and just shrugged. Spencer asked if she was okay, but she said she was fine.

"Take the damn picture already," she snapped, and Spencer did as told. Although, nobody seemed to be smiling. Freddie looked at Sam, who seemed to be trying to keep a strong face. He eyed the corsage he had got for Wendy on the table, and he realised what he had to do. And he apologised to himself in advance if she broke his arm for it.

As Carly went for the coat rack to find her purse, Brad said he'd wait downstairs for the group. Spencer left for his room to get ready for his date, and Carly yelled at him not to wear his piano shirt again because that was what had scared the last one away. He yelled back a quick, "No promises!" She chuckled and told Sam and Freddie that she'd be waiting downstairs.

Sam couldn't believe it as she sat down on the couch, immediately wrapping a blanket around herself as well as reaching for the TV remote. She had already discarded her bag and jacket, thinking that there was no point anyway. Freddie let out a loud sigh and sat down beside her. She grimaced. "What are you doing?"

"Sitting down?" Freddie said, confused, as his statement came out more as a question.

"Why?"

"Because you don't look like you want to go to Prom, so I won't go, too."

"But you were really looking forward to it."

"Considering how sad you are, it looked like you were, too."

"And what?" Sam scoffed. "I wanted to feel like a princess for the night and feast on their massive buffet table. I even heard they'd be tatter tots. You know, though, Wendy was stupid for not going with you. You make any night special."

Freddie grinned, mentally patting himself on the back. Praise indeed. "Well, thank you." Sam rolled her eyes at his pride – such a typical man. "And hey, Carson is a stupid dude, too. Bets they ditched us for each other." Sam made a comment about them deserving each other. "And maybe we deserve each other."

"What?"

"I said that aloud," Freddie sighed, realising it was now or never. He stood up and grabbed the corsage from the table he had seen Sam staring at more than once. "How about we go together?"

"Freddie, I—"

"No, let me talk," he insisted. "It isn't a crazy idea. We're friends, right? So, what, we dated? That doesn't mean I can't take you to Prom and make you feel like a princess for the night. Princess Puckett – doesn't that have a ring to it?"

Sam wanted to disagree, but she couldn't find a reason to. She eyed up the red corsage and then her dress. It was almost like Freddie knew. "Okay, fine. We can go, but just as friends, right? Keep your hands to yourself, and you're allowed two slow dances, that's it."

Freddie bowed to her, holding out the corsage. "Your wish is my command, Princess Puckett." He helped her with the corsage, taking her wrist gently and sliding it on. Then remembering that Carly was waiting downstairs, Freddie led her to the door.

She slapped his hand away from the lower part of her back. "No permission to touch." He apologised profusely, hoping that this wouldn't give her the second chance she needed to break his arm. She hadn't the last time, but there was still time, especially now they had committed to spending the evening together. "Let's go, Prince Benson."

He couldn't help but smile at the nickname, before he felt her take his hand into her own, lacing their fingers together. She then led him out the front door, calling a goodbye to Spencer. "Your carriage awaits, my princess."

And let me say, when Freddie turned to her at the end of the night with the bold line, "Permission to kiss?" she didn't break his arm. She said yes.