AN-Takes place during iOpen a Restaurant
…..
Shutdown
"So Spencer finally listened to me and got rid of that dumb security robot," Carly said to Freddie as the two teens stood by their lockers before school one day. "It took forever to convince him, though. He was still determined to keep it even after that whole fiasco yesterday."
"Good, that thing's dangerous," Freddie said, sliding a few textbooks into his backpack. "Do you know what I had to do to get the welts on my mom from those popcorn kernels to stop stinging?"
"No, and I don't want to know," Carly cringed.
"Anyway, where are Sam and Gibby?" Freddie asked. "They're going to miss the fish sticks in the cafeteria, and you know that won't go over well with Sam."
"They're probably down at their restaurant," Carly said.
"What do you mean? I thought Mr. Howard shut that place down," Freddie said. "At least that's what I heard first period."
"Nah, Sam texted me last night," Carly explained. "Apparently Principal Franklin loves the food there so much he's willing to look the other way about them illegally operating a restaurant in the school's basement."
"Oh, well that's…lucky," Freddie said. "Well, should we go down and eat there then?"
"Sure, I could go for some food," Carly nodded. "But I am not drinking any lemonade down there. By tongue's still not fully healed."
The two headed to the door at the end of an empty hallway that led to the basement stairs. Standing in front of the door, though, was a large, beefy boy who Carly and Freddie recognized as someone from Sam's detention crew.
"Er, hello," Carly said reluctantly.
"Names?" the boy replied gruffly.
"Names?" Freddie frowned.
"I have to see if you're on the list," the boy said, rolling his eyes. "So names!"
"Carly Shay and Freddie Benson," Carly said quickly, taking a startled step back.
"Alright, let's see…nope!" the boy said, scanning the Pearpad in his hands. "Not on the list."
"Are you kidding me? Of course we're on the list!" Freddie sputtered. "This is our friends' restaurant!"
"Well then you should be on the list, now shouldn't you?"
"But we-"
"Hank, it's cool, they can come in," Sam said suddenly, turning the corner carrying a large box of napkins.
"Since when do you have a bouncer?" Carly asked as Hank opened the door for the trio.
"Well we have to be careful about who we let in here now," Sam said. "Can't risk anyone ratting us out to Howard."
"Hey, you know, maybe an easier way to go about this would be to give all your customers a little electronic key tag or something," Freddie suggested. "And then you can have a scanner or something outside the door. That way people can just-"
"Yeah, maybe," Sam cut him off coolly as she stepped into the kitchen, setting the box of napkins down on the counter.
Freddie frowned, but didn't say anything.
"Anyway, there's an open table in the back," Sam said, turning to Carly. "Gibby will by to take your order in a minute."
"Thanks," Carly said brightly as her and Freddie headed towards the table Sam had pointed out. The two sat down and picked up their menus.
"Huh, I don't know what I should get," Carly said thoughtfully. "This chicken salad sounds good, but I've always been a sucker for a good grilled cheese, and-"
"Hey, is Sam mad at me or something?" Freddie blurted out.
"What? What do you mean?" Carly asked, confused.
"I mean, I dunno, it just feels like for these past few days she's been kind of…distant with me," Freddie sighed.
"Well did you do anything?" Carly frowned.
"No!" Freddie said. "At least…I don't think I did. I mean I've barely even seen Sam these past few days; she's been so busy with this restaurant stuff."
"Well, maybe that's it," Carly said. "Maybe you feel distant because you just haven't seen her that much. The three of us usually spend the whole day together, after all."
"Huh…maybe," Freddie said slowly. "I guess that could be it."
"Why don't the two of you do something fun this weekend?" Carly suggested. "Like that meat ball thing you guys like."
"Meat Golf," Freddie corrected her. "And you know what? That's a good idea. I'll-"
"Alright, what do you guys want?" Gibby asked, coming up to the table. His eyes were red and he had mucus dripping from his nose.
"Um…are-are you okay there, Gib?" Carly cringed. "You look a little…rough."
"Wow, thanks Carly," Gibby said. "You know, I didn't say anything about your appearance when you wore that purple eye shadow the other day that made you look like a sixty-year old receptionist."
"That's the style now!"
"Gibby, are you sure you're not sick?" Freddie asked.
"I don't think so," Gibby said. "Why do you ask?"
"Well because you look kind of…sick," Freddie said.
"What, is it insult Gibby day?" Gibby scoffed.
"No one's insulting you, Gibby," Carly said as Gibby gave another loud cough. "We're just worried about you. Maybe you should go lie down or something."
"But I'm not sick," Gibby said. "I'm just stuffy, cold, nauseous and dizzy."
"What's going on here?" Sam said, coming over to the table. "Gib, that table of cheerleaders have been waiting for their fries for half-an-hour. Why haven't you brought them their food yet?"
"Oh, my bad," Gibby said. "I thought-achoo!"
Gibby gave a loud sneeze that sent him falling into the open seat at the table.
"See! You are sick!" Freddie said triumphantly.
"My head hurts," Gibby moaned.
"Yeah, there's no way you should be around food right now," Carly said firmly. "Come on, let me take you to the nurse and-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, he can't just leave!" Sam said. "We have a full house! Who's going to be my waiter if he bails?"
"Well Sam, he's sick," Carly said. "Can't you just, I dunno, shut down the restaurant a little early or something?"
"No way!" Sam said. "We need to make money; yesterday someone left our fridge open and all our dairy went bad. We need to make back what we lost if we want to make a profit this week!"
"The fridge is tricky," Gibby defended weakly.
"Well isn't there someone who can fill in for Gibby?" Carly asked.
"No, the other two doofs who usually help us bailed after Howard order us to be shut down," Sam said. "Whimps…And there's no way I can run this place by myself, so Gibby's just gonna have to-"
"Hey, what about me?" Freddie said.
Sam turned to him. "You?"
"Sure, I can fill in for Gib," Freddie nodded.
"Oh, that's a good idea!" Carly said. "Freddie will take Gibby's place and I'll take Gibby to the nurse."
"Hold on, what makes you think you can just jump in and be a waiter at Ridgeway's hottest restaurant?" Sam said, crossing her arms.
"Sam, come on, you just said you can't run this place on your own," Freddie said. "And Gibby's clearly too sick. Just let me help you out. You won't have to pay me or anything; it will just be a friendly favor."
Sam pondered this for a moment. "Ugh, fine!" she finally conceded. "I guess you're my only option. Just-Just come on…there's food to be brought out."
Freddie followed Sam to the kitchen. He figured this would be the perfect opportunity to hang out with Sam. He really had missed her lately.
"So what do I do?" Freddie asked eagerly. "Should I-"
"Bring these hot meat sandwiches to table three, and then go around and make sure everybody has enough to drink," Sam said shortly, thrusting two plates at him. "Then come back here because by the time your done more food will be ready to be brought out."
"Oh…alright," Freddie nodded.
"Thanks," Sam mumbled, looking away from him.
"No problem," Freddie replied.
…..
Freddie wound up helping Sam in the restaurant for the remainder of the lunch rush, as well as after school. Once the last customer finally left, it was a little after six in the evening.
"You guys really get a lot of business down here," Freddie commented as Sam began to pile the dirty dishes in the sink. "Pretty impressive."
"Yeah, well, people are always looking for alternatives to the gross cafeteria food," Sam shrugged.
"Too bad you guys didn't realize there was an empty basement down here sooner," Freddie continued as he reached for one of the dirty dishes. "You could've been doing this even longer."
"Yeah, too bad," Sam said. "Hey, you-you don't have to do the dishes. You can go, now, actually. Now that the customers are all gone I really don't need any help."
"Oh, it's fine, I can still help you out," Freddie said. "I don't have anything going on."
"Suit yourself," Sam mumbled, turning away from him.
"You know, this was actually sort of fun," Freddie said as he began to scrub. "I wouldn't mind helping you out more when you need it."
"Well, hopefully Gibby's done being gross and sick by tomorrow," Sam said.
"Well, if he's not-"
"Oh here, before I forget," Sam said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small wad of bills. "Here."
"What's this?" Freddie frowned.
"Your cut for the day," Sam replied.
"But I told you earlier I don't need money," Freddie said. "I was just helping you out as a friend."
"Take the money," Sam said simply, setting it down next to his phone.
Freddie watched as Sam walked back over to the tables. She had been acting this way all day. He definitely wasn't imagining it; something was wrong.
"Hey…are you alright?" Freddie asked, putting down the dish he had been working on and following her.
"Yeah," Sam nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You-You've just been acting…differently," Freddie said. "More quiet. I mean you didn't say a word when I spilled that water on my pants earlier and it looked like I wet myself. That was prime material for you."
Sam didn't respond.
"I just wanted to make sure everything was okay," Freddie said softly. "You know…with us. I-I feel like I haven't seen you in ages and-"
"You should get going," Sam said, not looking at him. "If you hurry you can probably catch Carly and walk her home. I think she stayed late to tutor some freshman."
It was as though her words had stung him right in the chest; she had said them so coldly that Freddie had to take a step back.
And then suddenly, something click, and slow realization poured over Freddie.
"Sam," he said seriously.
Sam finally turned around and looked at him, her blue eyes locking with his dark ones.
"I don't have a thing for her, you know," he said. "Carly…there's nothing there. Honest. I-I just wanted, um, I just wanted to make sure you knew that."
Sam simply stared at him for a minute. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked finally.
"I-Like I said," Freddie replied. "I just wanted you to know."
Sam looked down at her feet, and Freddie could've sworn he saw the smallest of smiles on her face.
"Well…whatever," she said, clearing her throat. "I don't exactly care about your dorky love life. Just…help me wipe down these tables, will you, nub?"
Freddie grinned. "Yeah, sure. Let me just get a rag."
"Oh, um, you better not be doing anything this weekend either," Sam said. "Because you and I are going to be playing a little Meat Golf. Twelve o'clock, El Guapo Taco parking lot, alright?"
Freddie nodded. "Sounds perfect."
….
AN-I realize that usually when I write a oneshot about iOpen a Restaurant, it winds up being kind of sad, so I thought I'd make this one have a slightly happier ending. Hope you enjoyed!
