Chapter Eight: Freddie's POV
It had been two weeks since the Adam incident, and we were all starting to calm down a little bit about it. Carly was still healing, most of the cuts on her faces closing up. I still wanted to call the cops, but every time I tried, Carly begged me not to.
In my room with Sam, I paced back and forth, pulling my PearPhone out of my pocket, then putting it back in, then taking it out again. I did this about five times before Sam finally said, "Freddie!"
This knocked me out of my daze. "Sam, what are we going to do?"
"Help Carly get better and forget about it?" she suggested.
"Sam, are you crazy? We can't just forget! That guy deserves to be behind bars!"
"I know, but don't you think making the smallest deal about this would be best for Carly? I just think she needs to forget." Sam never failed to shock me. One second she's crazy and reckless, the next she's normal and reasonable.
"I guess you're right."
"Well, I guess I should go check on Carly." She stood up off my bed and walked towards me.
"I love you, Sam," I whispered, looking into her beautiful blue eyes.
"I…l-l-lo…" Expressing her feelings had always been a problem for Sam.
I grabbed her wrists and looked her in the eyes. "Say it!" I cried jokingly.
"I LOVE YOU, FREDDIE BENSON!" she shouted, her eyes shut tight. I leaned in and kissed her, and she kissed back. We laughed, and she left. I waited for her to leave completely before I pulled out my phone again.
"911, what is your emergency?"
