If there is one male role model in my life it's Spencer. My stomach fells like it just fell off the Eiffel Tower. I now know how normal teenage girls feel when they have to tell their parents they are pregnant. My palms break out into a cold sweat.

Carly grabs me by the arm and drags me into the house. She shuts the door behind us, "SPENCER!" she yells, "SAM'S HERE!"

"HEY SAM!" Spencer calls.

"I'M GONNA MAKE A RUN TO GROOVY SMOOTHEE, DO YOU WANT ANYTHING?" Carly hollers. All this yelling wasn't helping my already jittery nerves.

"YEAH! GET ME THAT NEW THING!"

"THE ONE WITH COCONUT?"

"NO THE ONE WITH KIWI!"

"GOT IT! BRB." She looks at me, expecting me to place my order, but I just shrug. "Whatever?" she asks. I nod. She gives me a look telling me that Spencer needs to know by the time she gets back.

Carly leaves and the door shuts with a click. I walk in the direction Spencer's voice was coming from. I go up the stairs and go into his bedroom. He has two crates of potatoes sitting next to him and he is peeling each one. He puts the peels in a bucket. There are two already full buckets and he has hardly made a dent in the first crate.

"Uh, Spence?" I ask.

"I'm making a sculpture out of potato peels and…" I tune him out after the first part. I am so used to Spencer's crazy ideas and right now I am more concerned about how I am going to slip "I'm pregnant" into the conversation.

I go and sit on his bed. He is still babbling away about his sculpture and how he might barbecue some of the peels, or cook them or do something to them. I can't think of a single way to tell him without having to say the dreaded words. I am about to panic when I unintentionally belt out,

"Spencer, I'm pregnant."

"No I don't think pressing the potatoes would work they're potatoes after all…"

"Spencer, I'm pregnant," I say with more force. He gets it this time.

"Ha-ha-ha, oh Sam…" he tried to make it sound like a joke, but even Spencer cannot turn this into something humorous.

"I'm not kidding."

Spencer claps his hand to his chest, "OH MY GAWD!" he screams. "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" he repeats.

"Spencer, please stop," I whisper, but he cannot hear me over his yelling. Now he is screaming, but no words, just noise. Finally he runs out of oxygen and has to inhale. He makes the awful noise of air trying to go in and out lungs at the same time.

"SAM PUCKETT! WHAT DID YOU DO?" he yells in my face. A strange feeling of puckish-ness descends on me, I decide to have some fun with this.

"I had se-"

"NO! DON'T SAY IT!" he interrupts me.

"What? Sex?" I ask innocently. "Spencer, you can't tell me you're a virgin?"

"AGHH!" he screams. The awkwardness of the situation is almost too much, I almost crack up, but I don't. I want to seem totally clueless of how he is feeling.

"Or, don't say that I had sex with Freddie?" Spencer's chest starts to convulse, he is whining too. I wonder how on earth he gave Carly a sex talk. Maybe he didn't.

I decide to be merciful and stop teasing him. I pick at my shoe while he calms down. Carly comes home before he is breathing normal again. I'm getting annoyed so I just pull him off his bed, without worrying about his feelings anymore. He has his hands in claws by his face, like he was trying to fight something away but froze in the process. His head is pushed back against his neck making the skin under his neck look like a double chin. He has his eyes squeezed shut. I wonder what he is thinking.

"I'VE GOT SMOOTHEE'S!" Carly yells. I pull Spencer down the stairs by his arm, his feet go down them automatically, I guess stairs are something the body gets accustomed too.

Carly takes a look at Spencer and says in a flat voice, "I guess you told him."

"NAH!" Spencer responds.

"He didn't take it well," I tell her.

"I see." She walks over to Spencer and looks him in the eye. He starts to unwind his tense limbs when she thumps him on the forehead. "OUCH!" he yells, "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

"He's back," she tells me; "he does that when he's had a bad shock. Spencer?" she directs her speech at him, "Sam is pregnant. Do not go into your shock coma again. Understand?"

He nods and looks at me warily. I shrug. Carly ignores the awkwardness between us and starts to hand out our smoothie's. Spencer gets his kiwi thing and I get my coconut. I'm about to take a sip when the smell of rotten bacon hits me.

I clap my hand to my mouth and start to run in the direction of the bathroom. My feet do not feel like they are moving fast enough, but soon enough I am over the toilet throwing up everything I ate that day. I am too busy retching I do not notice Carly come in and hold my hair. Finally, when everything I have had to eat that day is gone, I look up. "Thanks…" I mutter.

She hands me a glass of water and a toothbrush I always have at her house. I take them gratefully. If there is one thing I hate – actually, there is many more than one, but this one if near the top of the list – it's the taste of puke. Carly looks at me with tears in her eyes and quickly reaches out to hug me. I wish she would stop being so sensitive about this pregnancy thing; as I am the one pregnant, her tears are a source of unwelcome annoyance.

I decide to spend the night at Carly's and, other than my gag reflexes being completely out of whack, it was just like old times. We were leaning next to each other on the couch and I was feeling truly happy for the first time since this pregnancy fiasco started when Carly opens her damn mouth and ruins it, "Sam… what are you going to do when people realize you're pregnant?"

"I don't know… I guess I'll just take out anybody who calls me a whore… but other than that I don't know what else I can do." Carly gives me a long sympathetic look and turns away. suddenly she whips her head back towards me.

"iCarly," she whispers. My jaw drops.

"oh fuck…" I mutter. "I haven't thought about that at all…"

"What are we gonna do?" she asks.

"Do you think we can just pretend I'm fat?" she shakes her head no.

"No, we have some smart viewers. They'll figure it out. And then…" she trails off.

"What?" I ask, frantic.

"and then they'll want to know who the father is." She whispers.

I don't know why this is such big news, but it hits us each like a ton of bricks. "I don't know why that's bad." I tell her.

"I don't either, but I know it's bad." We sit in silence for a few minutes, contemplating what we are going to do.

"you know if you're pregnant, Sam, people are going to stop watching, especially if it's Freddie's. you'll get hate mail and parents will get involved… People will say iCarly is a bad influence."

"But we're not an influence." I say, stupidly.

"Millions of people watch us each week and you think we're not an influence?"

"I'm sorry… that was a stupid question…" we sit in silence for a few more minutes then I ask, "when should we tell them?"

"I don't know. Would you rather have someone tell you their pregnant, or wait for you to figure it out yourself?" she says.

"I would rather someone told me." I respond, already know where this is going to go.

"Then we have to tell them."

"I know. When should we do it?" I really don't want to do it soon, but maybe it's better to get it over with.

"I'd be better to get it over with," Carly says. Hmm, great minds think alike. "If we wait it's going to be really awkward on camera, once we get it off our chests we'll be able to go on with the show like normal."

"Carly," I say, as the realization hits me, "nothing is ever going to be the same. Ever. I'm pregnant, there is a baby growing inside me, and I'm not getting rid of it."

"What are you going to do with it?" Carly asks me, curious. Her question confused me, she doesn't actually think I'm going to keep it does she?

"I'm sure as hell not keeping it!"

"okay… just wondering…" her voice trails off again. "But, Sam? you better tell Freddie. And make sure it's oaky with him."

"why should it be okay with him?"

"It's his kid too! and I think he thinks you're planning on keeping it!"

"really?" I ask, I had no idea.

"Yes," she tells me, urgently. She must have thought I knew.

"I'll talk to him later," I've had enough drama for a while, I'd like to just chill with Carly. But Carly seems insistent on making me think about things, "when should we tell the viewers? I say next show."

"So soon?" I question.

"Yeah."

"alright. I'll trust you, you're better with people than I am."

For the rest of the week I worry about the upcoming iCarly show. I know what I am supposed to say – Carly told me – and I also know when and how to say it. but I cant keep from worrying. Freddie and Carly assured me that they wouldn't let anyone talk to us via video on the air right after the announcement. I don't want to get into a fight with one of our viewers, me being pregnant is enough drama for one show.

Freddie is just as worried as I am. I am not telling the viewers he is the father, at least not yet. In fact, all I want to tell them is 'my boyfriend' is the father. But Carly doesn't like that idea, she thinks its dishonest and she also thinks' that sooner or later someone will guess.

I know it will be more than guessing. People who know us personally and go to our school watch iCarly. Most of them know I'm dating Freddie. One of them will let the rest of the world know that he is the father.

This whole situation is making me sick, figuratively and literally.

I have been throwing up at everything lately. It's almost as if my body is making up for the weeks of no morning sickness by making me retch at everything I see, taste, or smell. All the foods I love have become deadly poisons for my system, and all the foods that normally make me want to puke – like veggies – have become a lifesaver. The only food I can still enjoy is Hawaiian pizza. In fact, I've been eating it by the bucket load. Spencer and Carly have a constant supply of microwave Hawaiian pizza on hand and now instead of going to groovy smoothie, I go to a pizza place.

The week flies by, no doubt because of my fear of the next iCarly episode. But soon enough, I'm in the small theater and Freddie is counting down, "in five… four… three… two…"

"HEY! I'M CARLY!"

"AND I'M" – don't say pregnant, don't say pregnant, don't say pregnant! – "SAM!"

"THIS IS iCARLY!" Carly is such a good actress, she appears to be worried about nothing. We do out bits and the show goes by quicker than normal. Too soon it's the end.

"Before we go we have some news we'd like to share with you," Carly says. "everyone has or will have a huge, phenomenal, LIFE CHANGING thing happen to them. well we have one right here on iCarly!" damn her, she's making this sound like a good thing. All though, that approach could work…

"Sam? you have some news?" she asks me. I feel like I am about to puke again, for the millionth time that week, but I ignore it and push the words out,

"I'm pregnant." It's almost a whisper. Carly hits the applause button. Freddie looks at his computer and his face goes from grave to deadly serious.

"so we have some cool things we can do with this! You guys can send us your funniest baby pic and the one we think is the best will be posted right here on iCarly! From now on, we're going to be doing one cool pregnancy thing a week, or at least until Sam has the little tot. Okay! Hasta la Vista! Chow! Sianara!"

"and we're clear…" Freddie says, without any enthusiasm. In fact, he sounds like he's at a funeral. "Carly when you said Sam was pregnant, over three thousand views signed off! Immediately!"

"But we have millions of viewers," Carly says.

"Yes, but if three thousand sign off when they're not sure if you're kidding or not imagine how many people will be signing off when Sam's as big as a watermelon! This isn't good."

"No chizz," I snap.

"excuse me!" he yells back.

"HEY!" Carly interrupts. "it's going to be bad enough to hear what people are going to say… let's not fight too."

She's right. All three of us go downstairs to eat dinner and wait for emails to come in. before we get downstairs we have already gotten over one thousand, and loads more are coming. As we eat dinner Freddie reads them too us.

"Dear Sam," he says, "'who is the father?' I dunno Sam, who is the father?" he gives me a seductive look, remembering the times that got us into this mess. "Ew," Carly chirps, "not in front of me, please."

"'Dear whore, I cannot believe you got pregnant! I'm going to stop watching iCarly because now I have lost all respect for you.' Sorry, Sam." Carly and Freddie both give me sympathetic looks.

Most of the emails are like this, but some are nice. Some people tell me they are sorry, others congratulate me. most ask who the father is. The ones calling me a whore really anger me. I hate how when it comes to sex for boy it equals score, and for girl it equals whore.

Carly, Freddie, and I all fall asleep on Carly's couch. I dream of eating Hawaiian pizza. I don't get full, I just keep eating and eating. My belly grows huge and all of a sudden, in its place, is a baby. The baby grabs my pizza and starts to eat it. I tell the kid to stop, but it doesn't, it just keeps eating more and more. I try to pull the pizza away from it, but it bites my hand. It seems to have a taste for my hand, because it starts to chew on it, tearing away the skin. The pain is getting too intense for me to handle,

Then I wake up.

"just a dream…" I pant. I realize I am laying on my arm and it has fallen asleep, a source of where the pain is coming from. Freddie, who is sitting next to me, appears to be having a not-so-peaceful sleep also. I grab his arm and wrap it around me, also putting my head on his shoulder. He wakes up.

"Sam?" he asks, groggily.

"Shh. Go back to sleep," I whisper. He wraps his other arm around me, so I am completely entwined by him, and kisses my on the forehead. "Goodnight," he whispers.

"Goodnight," I whisper back.