A/N--I pretty much wrote this entire story last week when I had the flu. Maybe not top quality, but I'll let you be the judge of that. Anyway, enjoy, read, and review.

"So, Carly shot ya down, huh?" Freddie pulled two iced teas out of Carly's refrigerator and set them down on the island. It had been two weeks since Carly had broken Sam's heart, and things were still awkward between them.

Sam fidgeted on her stool. "She didn't 'shoot me down,'" she said defensively, popping the cap on her drink. "She just…doesn't like girls that way, is all."

Freddie raised his eyebrows. "You know what I think," he said knowingly. "I think Carly just doesn't want to be in a relationship."

"How d'you figure that?" Sam asked.

"Come on," Freddie said, looking at her as though he had just witnessed her IQ drop 80 points. "She turns down all the people who ask her out. Boys, girls, everybody."

Sam looked at Freddie doubtfully. "Well, she always turns you down because you're a doof," she said, with a slight smirk at Freddie, who rolled his eyes. "And she turned me down because…" Sam trailed off, a confused look on her face.

Freddie sighed. "I'd say just give it time. I think Carly needs to figure herself out." He took a drink of iced tea.

Sam shrugged. "I…don't really want to talk about Carly anymore."

There was a pause, then Freddie asked, "So…what're you going to do now?"

Sam shrugged again. "Who knows? There aren't a lot of girls at school who are-"

Suddenly, Freddie jumped up and snapped his fingers. "I've got it! There's this girl in my French class, Dylan. She's totally cute, totally gay, and I think she'd be totally into you!"

"Wow. You just used the word 'totally' three times in the same sentence," Sam observed. "You just went up, like, 50 gay points."

Freddie blushed. "God, Sam," he mumbled, before clearing his throat loudly and continuing. "So…do you want me to set you two up?"

Sam looked at the ceiling. But I love Carly, she thought. Finally she looked back at Freddie, who was staring at her expectantly. "Sure," she said, giving him a half-smile. "Why not."

-----------------------

It was Friday afternoon. Sam was sitting in the Groovy Smoothie, waiting for Dylan. She stared down at the note in her hand. It was written in Freddie's messy tech nerd handwriting, and it said that Dylan would meet Sam at 4 pm. Sam stared at her watch. It was 3:57.

Almost as though Sam's prayers had been answered, a girl who fit Freddie's description breezed through the doorway. She was tall and very pretty, with layered brown hair and blonde highlights. The girl was wearing a short white skirt, a blue cami, and light blue Converse low-tops.

The girl looked around for a moment, then spotted Sam. She looked at a paper in her hand, then back at Sam. The girl then broke into a grin and charged toward Sam.

"Hey!" The girl said enthusiastically, flashing Sam a huge smile. Her braces were aquamarine and matched her shoes perfectly.

When Sam was too speechless to respond, the girl pointed to the photograph in her hand. "Your friend Freddie gave me this so I could recognize you." It was a photo of Sam making a face, most likely at Freddie. Sam blushed.

"That's not really…the best picture…" Sam stammered, resolving to kill Freddie later.

Dylan laughed, and it sounded like tinkling bells. "I think it's sexy," she said, putting her hand on Sam's knee. Sam almost fell of the stool she was sitting on.

"Sorry," Dylan laughed. "I'm Dylan, by the way."

"S-Sam," Sam said, trying to balance herself.

They ordered smoothies and chatted for about twenty minutes, after which Dylan had to leave for a piano lesson. Sam was secretly glad their date was over; this girl seemed too perfect, but she still wasn't Carly.

"Wait, I almost forgot," Dylan said on her way out. "Are you going to the school dance next week?"

"I-I wasn't—" Sam said nervously.

"Okay, then, I'll see you there!" Dylan called, before jogging out the door.

"I can't dance," Sam said feebly, even though Dylan was too far away to hear. Under her breath, Sam added, "Without Carly."