AN-So in this chapter, Sam and Freddie aren't dating, and they don't get back together. It's just supposed to show that even though they're broken up, there's still a lot of chemistry between them. Hope you like it!
…
Rhythm
"Unbelievable," Sam said, shaking her head as she looked through the box of nail polish that Carly kept under her bed. "The girl owns forty different shades of pink, but she doesn't own one bottle of black!"
"There are not forty shades of pink," Freddie said, looking up from the Pearpad he was playing on the love seat in Carly's room.
"Um, let's see," Sam said, looking through the box. "There's hot pink, tickle-me-pink, coral pink, neon pink, playful pink-oh God."
"That's a lot of pink," Freddie chuckled.
"And there's no way any of it is going on my nails," Sam said, continuing to search. "Hmm…I could probably work blue…or red."
"Since when do you even wear nail polish anyway?" Freddie asked, amused. "Didn't you say it makes your meat taste funny?"
"Well that shows you how bored I am," Sam smirked, deciding on a light blue shade and going over to sit on the pink sofa next the love seat. "Carly's out living it up in Yakima, and I'm stuck here painting my fingernails…baby blue. Hey, why do they call it baby blue? Babies aren't blue. Shouldn't you use 'baby' to describe a gross fleshy color? Or here's a better question, why do they have to use 'baby' at all? It just confuses everyone. And since when is pink ticklish? And-"
"Yeah, you must be really bored," Freddie said, rolling his eyes as he watched Sam take off her shoes and set to work painting her toes. "If you're sitting here debating colors."
"Ha, ha," Sam said dryly. "Hey, why are you hanging out in Carly's room anyway? Isn't crazy going to be calling in the secret service to come looking for you soon? I mean it is almost nine o'clock."
"My mom happens to be working the graveyard shift at the hospital tonight," Freddie said happily. "Which means until five A.M., I am a free agent."
"And again, you're spending your night in a teenage girl's room playing Fortress Runner," Sam pointed out.
"Well there's nothing else to do," Freddie moaned. "Spencer's with Carly in Yakima, Gibby's at Guppy's dance recital in Olympia, T-Bo's having a melt down over orange peels-"
"Which leaves you with me," Sam grinned.
"Yeah, well, seems like you're having a wild Saturday night," Freddie said. "You're painting your nails baby blue."
"Do you want me to start my color rant again?"
"No I do not."
"Good, then can it," Sam said. "I need to concentrate."
"You need to concentrate on painting your nails?" Freddie asked. "You don't even try concentrating when you're taking a math test."
"Math is stupid," Sam said simply.
"Well as vice president of the school's math club, I thank you for that," Freddie said, tossing his Pearpad down.
"There's a math club?" Sam exclaimed. "And Principal Franklin wouldn't let me start a Numchuck enthusiast club?"
"Ha!" Freddie said triumphantly.
"Yeah, real smart, insult the girl who knows enough about Numchucks to start a club," Sam mumbled. She sighed as she finished up her nails. "Well…now I'm bored again."
"Then what do you want to do?" Freddie asked.
"Nothing."
"Do you hear yourself?" Freddie chuckled.
"Hey," Sam said, grinning. "Wanna prank Carly?"
"You want to prank your best friend?"
"Oh come on, it won't be a mean prank," Sam said. "Just something to entertain us for a few hours. I mean, it's her own fault for leaving us while she jetted off to take car of her granddad's toe thing."
"What kind of prank do you have in mind?" Freddie asked slowly.
"Atta boy, Benson!" Sam said happily. She looked around the room, her eyes stopping at Carly's closet. "Oh yeah…Carly's shoes."
"Whoa, her shoes?" Freddie repeated, his eyes growing wide. "Carly's shoes are like her children. I'm pretty sure she's even named some of them!"
"Exactly, that's what's going to make this so funny," Sam said, hurrying over to Carly's computerized closet.
"Make what funny?" Freddie asked, getting up and joining her at the closet.
Sam entered in Carly's password on the digital alarm and slid the door open. She grabbed a pair of black boots. "We're going to switch every pair of shoes in here with a pair of Spencer's."
"Oh my God, no way!" Freddie laughed. "She'll freak."
"I know!" Sam said, tossing him the boots. "Alright, this is probably going to be an hour long task…Carly's a shoe chick. There's got to be at least thirty-seven pairs of shoes in here. Grab as many as you can, but do not scuff any of them. You may be a total nub, but even you don't deserve Carly's shoe wrath."
As Sam predicted, it took the two close to an hour to move all of Carly's shoes into Spencer's closet and put all of his pairs in hers.
"Well, we did it," Freddie said, staring at Carly's closet, which was now filled with Spencer's old sneakers.
"I can't wait to see the look on Carly's face," Sam said. "She's going to open her closet and BAM! Boy shoes!"
"Worse, Spencer shoes," Freddie grinned.
Sam laughed.
"We done good, Puckett," Freddie said happily.
"Shoosh yeah we did, Benson," Sam said, smiling at him. "You know, who knew you could actually be helpful with a prank."
"I've pulled pranks before!"
"Yeah, yeah, with the raisins at Boy's Camp," Sam said, rolling her eyes playfully. "You're a crazy, crazy punk."
"Well I learned from the from the best," Freddie said, putting an arm around his blonde best friend.
Sam chuckled and looked up at him.
Suddenly, a silence fell over the two teens as they simply took a minute to stare into the others eyes. Finally, Freddie broke the silence as he awkwardly removed his arm from around Sam and Sam cleared her throat.
"So," Sam said. "Um…now that we pranked Carly…you up for a round or Rhythm Riot on the Game Sphere?"
"Sure," Freddie shrugged. "Even though you've never beaten me at that game."
"Excuse me," Sam frowned. "I've beaten you several times."
"You have not!"
"You can't play that game to save your life!" Sam exclaimed. "You have no musical skills!"
"It's a video game, Sam! I don't need music skill!"
"So you admit you have no skill?"
"I admit nothing!"
…
"Three things of hand sanitizer!" Carly ranted as she dragged her suitcase back up to her room the next evening, having just returned from Yakima. "And I can still smell Granddad's feet on my hands!"
"Why were you touching your Granddad's feet?" Freddie frowned.
"Because Spencer refused to, and the doctor said he needed regular foot massages to speed his toe healing process!" Carly snapped.
"So why didn't you wear gloves or something?" Sam asked as the three entered Carly's room.
"Oh, I did," Carly said. "Two pairs! They didn't do a dang thing!"
"Aw, cheer up, just because your hands smell like elderly feet, doesn't mean you have to be all crotchety," Freddie said.
Sam laughed. "Crotchety."
"Yeah, I know," Freddie grinned.
"Children," Carly mumbled, rolling her eyes.
"Hey, why don't we hit the smoothie?" Sam suggested. "You can't be crotchety-mad! I said mad…You can't be mad sipping a smoothie!"
"Well, okay," Carly nodded. "But these shoes are sort of pinching my feet; I've had them on all day. Let me just get a pair of sandals and then we can go."
"Oh man," Freddie whispered as Carly started towards her closet. "She's gonna see!"
"I know!" Sam said, snickering.
"What are you guys saying?" Carly asked, looking over her shoulder as she typed in the code to get into her closet.
"Nothing," Sam said quickly.
Carly shrugged and pressed the final button on her lock screen, causing the door to start to slide open.
"She's gonna freak!" Freddie said softly, looking at Sam's face, which was etched with excitement and anticipation.
"Should I go with my gold sandals?" Carly asked as the door fully opened. "Or my silver ones. Or maybe my-Oh my God!"
"She freaked!" Sam said, bursting out in laughter.'
"Yeah she did!" Freddie nodded, shaking as well.
"What-What happened?" Carly exclaimed, holding up one of Spencer's sneakers. "Where are all my shoes?"
"You mean that pair of sneakers with the gum on the bottoms doesn't belong to you?" Sam asked innocently.
"Wonder what it's doing in your closet then," Freddie grinned.
"Why are these all Spencer's shoes? Where are my babies?" Carly demanded. "Where are Roberta and Cynthia and Maya? What's happening? What-" she narrowed her eyes at her best friends, who could barely stand straight from all their laughter. "Oh you didn't."
"We got you good!" Sam said, holding onto Freddie's shoulder for support as she continued to guffaw.
"She was all like…Ah!" Freddie sniggered, clutching his sides. "And then she was all like…Roberta!"
"This was priceless!" Sam cried.
"Hilarious!"
"You two are insane!" Carly exclaimed. "Insane and nutty!"
"Do you want us to leave now so you can scream into a pillow?" Sam asked, her face still red from laughed.
"Yeah, that'd be fantastic, thanks!" Carly snapped.
"Oh man, that was better than I imagined!" Freddie said to Sam as they left the room. He gave her a high-five.
"I wish we caught that on video," Sam said.
"Oh, but we did," Freddie said, pulling his Pearphone out of his pocket.
"No way!"
"What kind of tech nerd doesn't capture the best prank ever on video?" Freddie grinned. "Hey, we should probably give Carly some space for a little bit until she becomes less-"
"-Crotchety?"
"Yeah," Freddie chuckled. "Wanna go watch the video down at the smoothie?"
"Oh yeah, and T-Bo's selling pot pies on sticks!" Sam nodded. "Mama loves pot pies."
As the teens raced down the stairs, they met Spencer by the front door, wearing a pair of heels that were clearly a good four sizes too small on him.
"I think there's been a mistake," he said simply.
