iGo to Class
Driver's Education classes were held everyday right after school in room 820, taught by the same Mr. Calderon who attended church with the Bensons. He was in his late thirties/early forties, and had black hair that was balding on top and graying on the sides, a neatly trimmed mustache, and olive colored skin. He wore a solid blue polo shirt and khakis the first day of class. Unlike the other teachers at Ridgeway, he was patient, kind, and really loved his job, having been a driving instructor for twenty years. In fact, he had taught nearly half the class's parents how to drive as well, and a lot of older siblings. Including one Spencer Shay, it seemed, which had been discovered on the first day of class during attendance.
"Alright, everyone, please take your seats and settle down. I'm Dave Calderon. You can call me Mr. Calderon, Mr. C., or Cal," he introduced himself. "Now we're gonna take attendance so I can get to know you, okay? Katherine Abrams?"
"Here! And, it's Kathy."
"Thank you, Kathy. Kevin Alston?"
"Here."
"Freddie Benson."
"Here," Freddie said with a wave. He was glad Mr. Calderon already knew that he preferred 'Freddie.' He hated it when he got called Fredward.
"Hiya, Freddie," Mr. Calderon marked his presence down. "Rona Berger?"
"Here."
Carly turned her nose up. She couldn't stand Rona Berger. No one could.
"Rebecca Berkowizt?"
"Here."
Ridgeway was a large school, with a sizable student body, so there were quite a few people in the driver's ed class. As such, it took awhile to get to the end of the alphabet.
"Sam Puckett?"
"Here," Sam said.
"Why did he already call you Sam?" Carly asked, leaning over to whisper to Sam.
"Huh?"
"He called you 'Sam' instead of 'Samantha'," Carly pointed out. A lot of adults always called Sam her full name, even when she told them she went by 'Sam.'
Before Sam could respond, though, their conversation was interrupted by Mr. Calderon speaking.
"Carly Shay?"
"Here," she said, turning to the front of the room.
"Would you possibly be related to a Spencer Shay?"
Carly nodded. "That's my older brother."
"Ah, I see. Are you going to attempt to beat his record for most road tests I've ever had a student fail?"
Carly squinted her eyes at him. "Um, how many was that?"
"Why don't you ask him sometime, I'm sure he'll be happy to tell you. Anyway, Robert Thompson?"
Once attendance was done, Mr. Calderon put his attendance book away and sat down on the desk, ready to get down to business.
"Alright, everyone. Just to let you know, if you have a job or sports or any after school activities, you need to schedule things accordingly because daily attendance is mandatory. If you miss one class, you're out, got it?"
Sam's eyes widened. This guy wasn't clowning around. Well, whatever. Since she couldn't skip driver's ed, she'd just play hooky more with her actual classes. The ones without Carly in them, that is. Her girlfriend would have a lot to say to her about her absence otherwise.
"You don't need to pay any money for the textbook or any supplemental materials. Just show up with a notebook and pencil, pay attention, and you'll do fine. Now, uh…Freddie; will you come up here and please pass out these textbooks?"
Freddie got up and walked to the front of the room, picking up the huge cardboard box of textbooks that Mr. Calderon had indicated. The second he lifted it off the desk and swung around, though, the weight of the box became too much for his frail arms, and it fell to the floor, taking Freddie with it.
"Uh, are you alright-" Mr. Calderon began, no doubt fearing an impending lawsuit on his hands.
Sam, in a rare moment of compassion, jumped up and walked over to Freddie, effortlessly picking him up by the back of his shirt.
"I'll carry the box and you pass the books out, okay?" she hissed quietly into his ear. He furiously nodded, wanting to save himself from further embarrassment. Sam grabbed the box with ease and began walking desk to desk, Freddie at her side giving a book to each student.
"Um, thank you, Sam. Okay, as you guys can see, these textbooks are a little old…"
"I can tell," Freddie muttered, looking at the publication date on a book as he placed it on Wendy's desk. They were originally issued in 1989.
"...still just as effective, and it's the only thing we can afford! So, we'll just make due with what we got, and read a chizz load of pamphlets in the meantime. Anyone wanna come up here and help pass them out? I promise they're a lot lighter than the textbooks," he joked.
All in all, the first day they didn't really learn much of anything. Just got their books and tons of pamphlets about Washington traffic law, how to drive in big cities, the evils of drinking and driving and, even more morally corrupt, driving while under the influence of marijuana. Mr. Calderon also mentioned that they would be driving for the first time that weekend, and he'd give them more information on that as the week progressed.
The class lasted about an hour and then it was over, and the students were free to go about the rest of their days. It was raining outside, so Carly and Sam walked back to Bushwell Plaza together under an umbrella, which Sam had so kindly offered to hold. Freddie had on a bright yellow pancho and rain boots, much to his annoyance.
"Dude, you look like a banana in that," Sam pointed out with a grin as they walked down the sidewalk. Freddie turned up his nose at her before replying.
"I didn't pick it; this is what my mom makes me wear when it's raining," he defended himself.
"Then how come we've never seen it before?" Carly asked curiously.
"I'm following all of her rules a lot more closely now, because if I don't, I'm scared that she's gonna make me drop out of driver's ed over one little slip-up, and I cannot keep riding around with her in the Prius," he said with a shutter.
Carly and Sam nodded sympathetically. Mrs. Benson made everyone sanitize their hands and shoe bottoms before getting into her car, not to mention the plastic wrap she had over all the seats which she meticulously cleaned after each car ride. Also, the only things she allowed to be played on the car's stereo were educational CD's or classical music. Who wouldn't want out of there?
They soon arrived at Bushwell and took the elevator up to the eighth, stepping in through the front door to be greeted by Spencer in the living room.
"Hey, kiddos! How was your first day of-"
He stopped as Freddie walked in, stunned at what the boy was wearing. He couldn't even talk to ask, instead just raising a finger and squinting his eyes questioningly, mouth wide open from shock.
"My mom makes me wear this, alright?!" Freddie said with a glare as he practically ripped the pancho off before kicking the boots across the floor. Spencer nodded and turned back to Carly and Sam, not wanting to further aggravate an already irritated Freddie.
"So, how was your first day of driver's ed?"
"Boring," Sam said, leaning the umbrella up against the wall. "I can't wait until we actually get on the road." With that, she made her way into the kitchen, no doubt in search of goodies within the fridge. Spencer looked at Carly as if he wanted a more thorough answer.
"Fine," she replied, sitting down on the couch. "And we are driving soon; this weekend, actually."
"Woah, already?" Spencer asked in surprise. "I feel like we waited a while getting behind the wheel when I took driver's ed."
"Oh, yeah, that reminds me," Carly said, remembering class earlier. "My teacher, Mr. Calderon, said that he taught you how to drive, too."
"Mr. Calderon, hmm…oh, yeah, that was my driving instructor's name! He was a pretty nice dude, had a lot of patience. Which was good, cause I used about all of it."
Carly raised an eyebrow at her brother. "What'd you do?" she pressed.
"I, uh…wasn't the most skilled driver…let's put it like that."
"He told me you held the record for most road tests a student ever took."
Spencer's eyes widened. "Wow, in all the years since no one's ever beat it? That's impressive."
"Well, how many was it?" Carly wanted to know. Freddie was also sitting down nearby, listening intently.
"Oh, not that many. Like, twi…ten times, okay?!"
Freddie's jaw dropped to the floor and Carly's eyes bulged out of her head. Sam, who had been standing at the kitchen counter, drinking cream soda and listening in on their conversation, spit her drink out all over onto the counter from shock.
"What?!" she yelled, wiping the back of her shirt sleeve over her upper lip. Carly and Freddie paid no attention to her, though, as they continued to stare at Spencer in absolute astonishment.
"Ten times?" Freddie finally spoke. "I get failing your road test once or even twice, but ten. Times?" He held out both his palms for a visual.
"It's not something I brag about!" Spencer replied defensively, getting up and walking over to the kitchen to grab a towel. He'd heard Sam's spit take a moment ago.
"That's just great!" Carly complained, getting off the couch and following her brother into the kitchen. She stood next to Sam and watched him as he began to clean up the cream soda mess.
"What is?" he asked.
"Since you're my brother, Mr. Calderon's gonna think I'll be just as terrible a driver as you!"
"C'mon," Spencer protested, wiping up every last bit of carbonated beverage from the counter.
"He'll probably just automatically fail me! I won't even have the chance to take my road test!" she cried, throwing her arms up in the air.
"Calm down, Cupcake," Sam tried to reassure, about to put her arm around Carly's waist, but instead her girlfriend just whirled around and stepped away from her, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at Sam.
"First off, never tell a girl to calm down," she started. Sam just stood there. "Second, you also think I'll fail, too, so-"
"Woah, woah, woah," Spencer interrupted, the mess now cleaned up. "Sam thinks you won't get your license?"
"Mhm," Carly replied, shooting a glance at Sam.
"She also told me that!" Freddie chimed in, walking into the kitchen to join the conversation. "We actually made a bet over it. Sam thinks she'll get her license before I do. And apparently Carly as well, but I didn't know about that."
"So you think you're gonna be able to drive before either of these two?" Spencer asked, now turning to speak to Sam.
"That's right," she confirmed.
"Interesting," Spencer said, nodding his head up and down slowly while rubbing his chin, deep in thought. Carly tilted her head to the side while up at her brother. Freddie looked confused as well. Sam just stood there with a neutral expression on her face.
"How is that interesting?" she demanded.
"Yeah!" Freddie added. "Carly and I are way more likely to pass than Sam is! She'd probably hit an old lady and say it was her fault for not looking both ways or something!"
Well it would be, Sam thought, but held her tongue.
"Listen, I'm not taking sides in this, okay? This for you three to deal with. Whoever passes or doesn't pass, has nothing to do with me, alright?"
"Okay," Carly and Freddie agreed. Sam just nodded. They guessed that was fair. Spencer was close with all three of them, so it wouldn't be right for him to pick sides in this.
"Good," Spencer said, clapping his hands together. "Now, who wants to help me make some spaghetti tacos?"
All three teens began aiding in the dinner prep. Freddie set the table, Carly helped Spencer with cooking the taco meat and sauce, and Sam was making iced tea for them to drink with it.
"What you said earlier, about failing your test before you even take it," Spencer said to Carly. The two of them were standing over the stove. Spencer was stirring the meat around in the pan while Carly was seasoning it.
"Yeah?" she said, sprinkling some pepper over it.
"I didn't go to law school all that long, but I'm pretty sure that's illegal. So, if he does try to do that, we'll just sue the guy."
Carly smiled up at her brother. "Thanks, Spencer." Sometimes he knew just what to say.
Spencer smiled back down at her. "No problemo, kiddo. Besides, look at this way: his expectations will be so low, even if you're just a mediocre driver, you'll look great in comparison to me!"
Carly had to admit, Spencer did make a good point. One she could use to her advantage. Nodding her head, she said, "yeah, you're right! Anything I could screw up, you probably did, like, twice already!"
"Well, I wouldn't go-"
"So, yeah, I don't have to worry. I'll be a master driver compared to you!"
"You're welcome," Spencer said a bit bitterly, looking down at the ground beef he was cooking. It was true, although still a little hurtful.
"How did dad feel about that?" Carly asked, now pouring a bit of taco season over the pan. "You taking your road test ten times?"
"He…wasn't very impressed," Spencer admitted, stirring the meat around. "But we did find out that after the fifth test, all the rest are half-off! That helped his wallet a little bit."
Carly laughed at that as she grabbed the garlic seasoning for the pot of sauce on the back burner.
"Well, he won't have to worry this time. We won't even need to pay for a second," she emphasized, glaring at Sam, who was standing at the kitchen island, mixing iced tea. Sam just crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue in response. Carly just rolled her eyes and stirred the sauce around. "Let alone anything past fifth."
"I sure hope so," Spencer replied, determined to stay neutral.
Dinner was ready soon after that, and four of them sat down together and had a nice meal, talking and laughing all the way through it.
"Oh, hey, how did your blind date go the other night, Spence?" Sam brought up.
"Yeah, how was that?" Carly chimed in.
Instantly, Spencer made a face. "Uh, not so good?"
"Why?" Freddie asked.
"Well, it turns out she was actually blind. Which isn't a bad thing, but I had a ton of pictures on my phone of all my sculptures that I was really relying on impressing her with. After that, it just kinda went nowhere."
They all nodded sympathetically and kept eating and talking, and soon dinner was finished. After the clean-up was done, Freddie went back across the hall to start on homework and Spencer went to the art store to get supplies for his next project. Carly thought she should do her homework, too. Preferably with Sam.
"Hey, wanna go upstairs and get started on our school work?" she asked, turning to her girlfriend.
"I would, but I can't," Sam replied. "My mom wants me home. Something about her wanting me to meet her new boyfriend."
"Oh, no," Carly replied, knowing the kinds of skeevy guys Sam's mom liked to date.
"Nah, it's not like that this time," Sam replied, walking over to the coat rack to grab her jacket. Carly followed "He's like a psychic or something and she wants him to predict my future."
"Oh," Carly said, squinting her eyes. Well, that did sound a lot better than the usual creeps Mrs. Puckett tended to go for.
"We can do homework together tomorrow, kid," Sam replied, slipping on her jacket. "I'll make sure of that by not doing tonight's."
"Sam," Carly said in a warning tone, ready to give her 'The Look'
"Kidding," Sam said, flashing that famous Puckett grin. "But I should get going. So there's still time to get my palm read and do geometry."
"Text me when you get home," Carly requested.
"I will."
"Y'know, in a few months from now, we won't even be doing this," she commented. Sam looked confused.
"Uh, doing what?"
"Saying goodbye here, at my door. Cause I'll have to drive you home," she teased. Sam just rolled her eyes and shook her head, then stepped forward and put her hands on Carly's hips, whose own hands immediately went over the back of Sam's neck.
"Whatever you wanna think, Carly-girl," she said, then leaned in for a kiss, which Carly gladly provided. All too soon, though, Sam was pulling away and had her hand on the door.
"See ya tomorrow," she said with a wave.
"Bye Sam," Carly smiled back. "Love you."
"I love you, too." And with that, she was gone.
Carly turned around and went upstairs, hoping what she said was true. It was pretty exciting to think about her and Sam making out in the Puckett's driveway while dropping her off. Blushing at the thought, she tried to shake it from her head as she entered her room to get started on homework. First, she had to put in the work to make sure that dream became a reality. Going over to her backpack, she pulled out her driver's ed textbook, sat down at her desk, and opened up to page one. Reading ahead a little bit would ensure that would happen.
At this point, I feel like I should make something clear: the driver's education system in this story will not be accurate to real life. I'm not sure how it works in Washington versus my own home state, so I'm sorry if I get anything wrong, but I'm really not aiming for a ton of accuracy here. Had there been a driving-centered episode of iCarly back in the day, we all know for certain that the writers wouldn't have cared about making it true-to-life, either. So, I hope you'll allow me the same grace as you would them. I will be writing based off my own driver's training experiences to give this story a more authentic feel, but I just wanted to give you all a head's-up that this will not be like how getting your license is in real life. I hope you'll allow me those artistic liberties so I can tell an entertaining and fun-to-read story. Take care and enjoy reading.