Singing
Sam Puckett slowly opened her eyes, squinting as the sun shined in through the window across from her bed. She looked over at the clock on her dresser and saw it was only eight o'clock.
At first Sam was confused about why she was up so early, and she grabbed her phone from the bedside table, about to text her boyfriend, Freddie, to see if he was awake too.
The moment Freddie's name crossed her mind, though, she instantly felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach, and she remembered why had had trouble falling asleep last night.
Last night her and Freddie had broken up.
Sam fell back down against her pillows, curling up underneath the covers, wanting to never get out of bed or do anything ever again.
She felt so weak…and she hated it. Had Freddie Benson really had such an effect on her that she had been reduced to this now that he was gone?
It had to happen, she told herself in an attempt to try and fight the sinking feeling inside of her. It was too good to last. It's better for everyone now. We won't drive Carly crazy anymore with our fighting and-and I won't embarrass Freddie anymore or-or have to deal with his dorkiness or-or have to hold his hand ever again-
She squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to shed another tear over something as trivial as a break-up.
She had cried enough last night anyway.
It's done. It's over with, and now you just have to get used to it, she thought firmly. How hard can that be?
She sat up in her bed and took a few deep breaths.
"I guess I should change my Splashface status," Sam mumbled. She remembered how hesitant she had about updating her social media page to read 'in a relationship with Freddie Benson', but Freddie seemed so excited about it that she had given in.
"And I should probably cancel those reservations we had an Petrozini's tonight," Sam continued. She looked around her bedroom. Freddie's history textbook sat on her cluttered desk from the time they were going to study together but wound up getting 'distracted'. His boxed set of Girly Cow season 3 lay in the middle of the floor; the two had spent an entire night watching it and laughing at the show's stupid antics. There was a Galaxy Wars comic he had brought over one afternoon, convinced he could make her like his favorite science fiction characters if she would just give them a chance, and sitting on the windowsill was a vase he had brought over to house the bouquet of flowers he had bought her a few weeks ago. The roses were wilting….
"I should get rid of all that-that junk too," Sam said heavily. "He'll probably want it back. There's no point in keeping the stuff here."
She looked down at the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing. It was navy blue and was perhaps the warmest thing Sam had ever worn.
Freddie had given it to her one night at his place when she had made one comment about being cold. She had worn it back home and she never got around to returning it; it was comfortable to sleep in, and the slightest scent of Freddie's cologne lingered on it, usually making her fall asleep with a small smile on her face.
But like everything else, the sweatshirt would have to go as well.
…
Later that day, Sam walked up to the eighth floor of Bushwell Plaza, carrying all of Freddie's belongings in a small bag. As she reached the hallway where Carly and Freddie's apartment doors both were, she glanced over at apartment 8D. Just yesterday she would've been knocking on that door first, wanting to have a few moments alone with her boyfriend before going across the hall to start working on iCarly.
Today, however, she turned and walked right into apartment 8C.
"Hey," Carly said, hurriedly throwing her jacket on and grabbing her purse.
"Hey," Sam said. "You going somewhere? I thought we were working on iCarly."
"I know, but Spencer just called me," Carly sighed. "His car broke down in the junkyard parking lot when he was picking up parts to use for his new singing cat sculpture. I have to go get him. But don't worry, I'll be back in an hour or so. In the meantime you and Freddie can get all of your couples activities out of the way so when I come back, you'll be ready to focus on iCarly."
Sam quickly looked away, not wanting to meet Carly's gaze. She supposed she should tell Carly what happened, but she didn't want to be bombarded with questions right now. She would figure it out soon anyway.
"I'll see you later," Carly said. "And Spencer said he'll order us pizza since I'm doing him a favor, so don't fill up on anything!"
Sam flopped down on the Shay's couch as her best friend hurried out the door. She really didn't want to be here right now; she wanted to be back home where she could just sit in her room by herself and not have to worry about keeping herself composed.
Just then there was a quick knock at the door and a moment later Freddie walked in.
By the look on his face, Sam could tell he didn't expect to come face-to-face with her alone when he entered the apartment.
"Er…hi," Freddie said awkwardly.
There was no more 'hello kiss'. There were no more flirty smiles. There were no more 'hey, baby' or 'hi, princess'.
Now there was only confusion and uncertainty.
"Um, hey," Sam mumbled.
They had said they would stay friends; that they would go right back to the way things had been before they started dating.
But neither had expected it to be this hard.
"I-Carly said we were gonna work on iCarly stuff," Freddie said, trying to look anywhere but at his ex-girlfriend.
"Yeah, we are, but she had to go pick up Spencer first," Sam replied, also trying to not to look at him. "She left a few minutes ago. She'll be back soon."
"Oh," Freddie nodded. "Right…Well then, I-I guess I'll go back home and wait then. I-I have a ton of homework that I should do-"
"Wait," Sam said, quickly, grabbing the bag of his stuff. There was no use putting it off, and frankly, she wanted to be done with this as soon as possible.
Freddie turned back around, their eyes locking for the first time since they had separated last night at midnight.
"I, um, have some of your things," Sam told him, holding up the bag. "You know, just some random chiz I-I had over at my place. I don't want it cluttering up my room."
"Oh," Freddie frowned. "Um, thanks. Hey, I guess now would be a good time for me to give you back your stuff too then. Hang on, I'll go grab it."
He disappeared across the hallway, returning a moment later with a small box.
"Thanks," Sam said, taking the box as she handed him the bag. She looked through the box. There was a bunch of hair ties, a few Cuddlefish CD's, her French binder and her butter sock.
Sam stared sadly down at her favorite weapon; she had left it there from when she had been teaching Freddie how to use it. He had been terrible at it, of course, but he had looked so cute trying…
"Well then," Freddie said, looking through his own bag. "Um, thanks again for my stuff."
"You too," Sam said softly. "I-I'll tell Carly to text you when she gets back here so you can come back over."
"Okay," Freddie said. He headed towards the door, but before he left, he hesitated. He slowly reached into his bag and pulled out his old sweatshirt.
"Um, Sam?" he said, looking back over at her.
"Yeah?" Sam asked.
"Um, this-this is actually too small for me," Freddie said. "I haven't worn it in a couple of years. If I keep it, I'll just have to give it away or something. Do you want to keep it? It will save me a trip down to Goodwill."
"Oh, um, sure," Sam said, taking the sweatshirt, instantly feeling the warmth of it as it touched her skin. "I-I can probably find some use for it."
"Alright," Freddie said. "Well, um, I'll see you in a little bit then. Bye, Sam."
"Bye, nub," Sam said softly.
Freddie gave her a small smile before leaving the apartment, closing the door behind him.
Once he was gone, Sam hugged the sweatshirt to her body.
She knew it made no sense, wanting to keep the old sweatshirt now that her and Freddie were no longer a couple.
But just wearing it made her seem protected and safe; almost as if Freddie's arms were wrapped around her once again.
