...Disclaimer: You know who owns iCarly? MY MOM - I mean Dan Schineder, of course.
Freddie had walked until his feet felt like they would fall off. He had spent his stroll (or desperate walk out of an awkward situation) looking down at the sidewalk, brown cocoa eyes downcast on the sullen looking grey pavement. So when he stopped in front of a black gate, he looked up. 'Priest Point Park' the golden sign read. He looked from outside the gate at the park. It was green and full of floras, roses everywhere. Kids were running like maniacs from place to place, jumping around and yelling. Mothers were looking on, laughing and smiling and gossiping about fellow neighbors behind their backs. Dads were barbecuing beef heartily - a usual feat done during the hot summer month of July - and boasting about their skills on the grill. It looked like a perfect suburban park, until he noticed a prickly tree, haunting and out of place in the green pristine park.
He started scurrying to it, not paying attention to the wild children blocking his way. He knocked them over and only mumbled "Sorry, kid." as he made his merry way to his destination. Once he reached the tree, he lifted up a branch and peered inside. It was beautiful - at least to him. Green grass surrounded a dark blue pond. A log, brown and molding (somewhat) sat right next to the pond next to several mundane, lifeless thin rocks. He sighed contently and maneuvered his way around the tree and walked to the log and plopped down on it. Placing his hands under his chin and leaning on it, he thoughtfully sat and looked around. He had no idea why he acted like a hippie on acid when he had saw Sam and Ian playing footsie - he should've known it was just a game. He shook his head solemnly and glanced at the rocks, and then at the pond. He smiled and grabbed a rock. I hope I remember how to do this...he thought, and threw the rock across the pond. Smiling as the rock bounced across, he picked up another one. Freddie kept at it until he heard rustling. He frowned and looked back. Surely no one had followed him to the hideout...unless -
Did that bitch find me already?
Freddie gasped and ducked down behind the log. He knew his mother had a tracker planted in him. He was screwed. The rustling picked up again, but with a chewing sound.
Is she eating? What is she eating, my soul? ...My soul smells pretty damn good...almost like...
Freddie couldn't find another hiding spot, and groaned in desperation. He peered over the log and looked. All he saw was a blonde strand...was that a ham and pineapple pizza?
Figures.
Freddie sat back up and sat on the log, his hair disheveled. He made a weak attempt to fix it and sighed. "Hey Sam. Nice ninja skills, you really had me going for a sec there." he smirked wryly. A blonde, hidden behind a tree, groaned.
"Dammit! Freddie, you're not supposed to realize I'm here. Momma needs Jackie Chan training..." Sam groaned out, coming out from behind the tree, hair braided and put to the side with some woodchips poking out from here and there. Sure enough, the girl was munching on a ham and pineapple pizza, frowning. Freddie shook his head.
"Did you guys decide on a capital?" he asked, coughing and turning away from her to throw another rock. Sam, wondering why the boy seemed so distant, sat right next to him on the log and nodded.
"Of course, we're going to Idaho. We decided to save Alaska for last. Or maybe we should've picked Alaska?" Sam had furrowed her brows and looked at Freddie. He only shrugged and smiled.
"Doesn't matter where, I was just asking. ...But, strategically speaking, yes, Alaska would have been the better option." he said, tossing another rock into the deep blue lake with a skid. Sam nodded, and turned to him.
"So, Freddie...wanna tell me why you left the restaurant earlier?" Sam said softly, bangs hiding her cerulean eyes. She glanced at the lake, coughing. Somber, quiet times is when she gets scared. Silence makes her anxious. Sam felt weary and torn between bursting out how she felt and running. But she held her ground, foot firmly placed in the placid dirt. He only shrugged.
"I...I felt weird, left out, almost. You and Ian...You and Ian were obviously having an intimate debate and Carly was doing god knows what staring out the window...I just felt like leaving." he said, looking at the specks of light reflecting off the pond. He felt like bursting out 'The Color of the Wind', but he knew it wasn't an appropriate time and only made a wry, faint smirk. Sam raised an eyebrow at his smirk and his statement, confused.
"Why would you...were you..." Sam felt too scared to say it. Saying it aloud meant it was true. And no matter how deep she was in, she would refuse to acknowledge any kind feeling Freddie had concocted. She was always number two.
She got that now.
"Whatever, we should go. Idaho is up next, and we have a lot of-"
"Sam?" he asked meekly.
"...Yeah?"
"I hate you." he said firmly to a frowning Sam. He said it strongly, as if he firmly believed in his statement, but he was smiling. She looked at him blankly, but smiled back a little after a few moments.
"We should film the iCarly show here, today. Then we're off to Idaho." he said, pushing the branch back and walking off. Sam nodded and followed.
"Yeah...want me to call Carly?" she asked, flipping open her phone. Realizing how thick the tension was, she suddenly got an urge to break it. "I'll get rightttt on it." she said, and tapped her iPrunes playlist button. 'The Color of the Wind' blasted from her phone's stereo. Freddie laughed.
"I was thinking of the same song just no- Call Carly, dammit." he shook his head distractedly. Sam's smirk went wider as she pressed the dial button to call Carly.
Freddie was setting up for the iCarly show, now taking place in a pristine park Freddie had found earlier. He flipped cables and tapped in things on a laptop - and relaxed slightly. He felt no tension whatsoever when he was behind the camera. He felt free. He looked up to Carly and Sam, who were doing flail-slap exercises to prepare for the show. "Okay. Spencer comes on live in three, you'll introduce Ian when I spin my finger in a circle, and...That's it! Introduce the next state we're going to last, alright?" he asked, backing up behind his traveling tech-cart.
"Sure, Freddie!" and "Yeah whatever, nub." had came out at the same time from Carly and Sam's lips. Freddie nodded.
"In 5...4...3...2..." Freddie nodded two of his fingers at the girls.
"Carlotta here!"
"Samantha here!"
"And you're watching iCarly, LIVE from Olympia, Washington! ...Unless you suck." the girls said in unison.
"So today, fellow webbites, we have something special for ya." Sam hopped up and down and waved her arms in the air. She grabbed a pink laptop from the ground and opened it, revealing a black screen. Freddie nodded, and Sam pressed a few buttons. A half nude Spencer with a 'Tee-hee, I have no shirt on!' face was staring at the trio from the screen. He waved.
"Hi guys!" Spencer waved, smiling like the clueless man he is. Sam and Carly only laughed back.
"Hey, Spence. So what's up?" Carly asked, leaning her face near the screen.
"Oh...nothin, just bought a hippie off Craigslist." he said casually, shrugging.
"YOU WHAT?" Carly exploded, ranting suddenly about how she knew this would happen and all that crap. Sam and Freddie only sighed. Sam slapped Carly in the face. "Sorry." Carly said sheepishly. Sam nodded.
A few minutes later, iCarly was over. The trio smiled at each other in satisfaction. Freddie smiled wide. "Great job, you three! The pickle joke was gold." he said, looking at Sam. She only winked. He blushed lightly, and then rolled his eyes for feeling like a schoolgirl.
"So...we going ta Idaho anytime soon? You guys only have two weeks, y'know." Ian said flippantly, putting his wet white shirt on. Carly's eyes glazed over.
"Of course we are! IDAHO, HERE WE COME!" and that was the last thing Freddie heard from Sam as she scrambled down the street, blonde curls ablaze.
And for one small second, Freddie thought Sam looked beautiful, running down that sidewalk, Baywatch style.
Sorry for the wait! Tell me your favorite parts (if you even had one) - and critisims are always welcome, dearies!
Love, Mandotta.