Chapter Two

The call went straight to voicemail again. Freddie groaned and threw the phone on his bed in frustration. It had been three days since his conversation with Sam in her office and she hadn't returned any of his calls. He had gone to the restaurant on Saturday but Abby, one of the hostesses, told him that Sam had called in sick. He might have thought that she was lying to him to cover for Sam but Abby had looked genuinely confused and concerned, Sam never called in sick, ever. And the last time Freddie himself had seen Sam sick was when Missy had given her that rancid chocolate a lifetime ago.

Sunday morning he had shown up at her apartment building with bacon and potato soup but Chester, the good humored elderly doorman at her building, told him that Sam had just stepped out to run errands. He thought that whatever she had must have been a one day bug or something and he considered waiting in the lobby for Sam to come back but that seemed to cross the boundaries of creepy, even by his standards.

Freddie could accept that Sam was sick or busy and didn't have time to see him, he just didn't know why she wouldn't return any of his phone calls. Maybe she was regretting that moment they had in her office. Maybe he had read her wrong and she didn't feel the same way he did…

He flopped down onto his bed, feeling miserable.

He'd been trying to get over Sam, he really had. He had gone on that date with Caroline from his comp sci class and on that blind date Carly had set him up on. But he just ended up comparing every girl to Sam in his mind. And of course they always fell short. He found other girls attractive, sure, but no one occupied his mind and got under his skin like Sam did. No one made him so angry, so crazy, and so unbelievably happy like she did.

The truth was, he had been ready to get on his knees and grovel for her to take him back at the beginning of senior year. It was Gibby, of all people, that had changed his mind.

"I know what you're thinking," Gibby said as Freddie watched Sam walk up the stairs and out of the restaurant.

"Huh?" Freddie reluctantly turned his attention to him when Sam was out of view.

"You want her back," Gibby said.

Freddie sat down on one of the stools while Gibby wiped down the counter.

"So what if I do?" He asked defensively.

Gibby shook his head sadly. "Freddie Freddie Freddie…"

"What? You think she likes someone else? Did she say something about me?" He asked in rapid fire succession.

Gibby held a hand up to stop him. "See? Always thinking about yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that have you even considered what Sam wants?"

Freddie's heart sank. "You think she won't want to get back together?"

"I'm saying that maybe you want to try and be her friend again first because frankly, you've been sucky at it."

"What do you mean? She's been so busy here and spending all her time with you…" Freddie tried not to make his voice sound accusatory but he knew he didn't succeed.

"And you've been hanging out with Carly. The street goes both ways."

Freddie pressed his palm to his forehead. "I don't know what you're getting at, Gibby."

"Do you know what Sam and I have been doing lately?" Gibby asked.

"No…" He wasn't all that sure he wanted to hear this.

"We've been trying to figure out a way to get Gibby's from down here to up there," he pointed upwards to the ceiling and Freddie looked up, not getting what he meant at all.

"In the school…?"

"Out in Seattle. We want to make Gibby's a real restaurant."

Freddie smiled. "That's nice, Gib, but it sounds kinda crazy."

Gibby opened his arms wide. "That's what Carly said about this place but do you know how much money we're making? Even counting all the expenses for food and supplies, it's a lot of money."

"Yeah, but, a real restaurant is different, Gib. Sam can't go around hiring the services of her paroled relatives, you have to get permits, you have to pay taxes…"

"That's why you can't be with Sam yet," Gibby said.

"Why?" Freddie asked in disbelief. "Because I'm realistic?"

"Because Sam is crazy enough to make the unbelievable happen and you don't understand that."

Freddie bristled. Who did Gibby think he was? Up until last year he and Sam had barely been friends and he thought he knew her better than Freddie did?

"I believe in Sam, okay? I know that she's capable of doing anything that she puts her mind to. I've always known that-"

"I'm not saying you don't. It's just that Sam doesn't believe any of that about herself. And if you and Carly start saying stuff like that to her then she might not go through with it. That's why she hasn't told you about our plans."

"I won't say anything. I'll be supportive," Freddie promised.

Gibby just looked at him. "Freddie."

He put his hands up. "I swear!"

"Even when you're mad at her? Even when you're yelling stuff at her during your couple arguments?"

Freddie paused. "I'll try…"

Gibby shook his head. "Not good enough. This is her dream, Freddie. She won't say it but it is. And we both know that she's awesome at this. The only reason that Gibby's is doing so well is because of her."

Freddie hated that Gibby was making so much sense. He drained the bottle of root beer in front of him and slid it across the counter where Gibby caught it neatly.

"Can I ask you something, Gib?"

"Sure."

"Do you like Sam? I mean, like I like Sam…?"

Gibby started laughing. He laughed so hard that he bent down and Freddie lost sight of him behind the counter. After a couple minutes he stood up again and tried to compose himself.

"You're kidding, right?"

Freddie scowled, the nagging feeling in his stomach not easing one bit. "You did ask her to a dance that one time."

"Back in middle school and then she broke my thumbs."

"You guys spend so much time together now," Freddie persisted.

"We're partners, we run this place together," Gibby crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. "You know I've always been afraid of Sam, I still am sometimes. But she's a cool chick and she's kinda like a sister. Gibbeh don't roll that way."

Freddie breathed out. "Right. Sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. She just makes me a little crazy sometimes you know?"

Gibby nodded. "I hear you."

"So you really don't think I should try to get back together with her?" He asked.

"I think Sam needs to do this for herself. And I think you need to not be in the way for awhile."

Ouch. Whatever anyone said about Gibby, the kid could be brutally honest sometimes. And also unexpectedly wise.

"So," Gibby said. "I had an idea. What do you think of jalapeno and red pepper milkshakes?"

But then most of the time he was just Gibby.

Against all odds Sam had really done it. She had opened Gibby's in Seattle and at the end of the first year it had already broken even on the capital she and Gibby had put up. Now in its second year they were turning a profit. It was really remarkable for a small business venture. The Seattle Times had done a feature on Gibby's and The Seattle Beat had interviewed them. Freddie was so proud of her that he could burst. But he had to watch it all from the sidelines.

He tried to support Sam as much as he could but he couldn't help but feel that she used the restaurant and school to put up a wall between them and as much as it pained him, Freddie had to let her, always keeping in mind what Gibby said about not getting in the way.

He thought that he might have finally smashed through a portion of that wall on Friday night. But it was looking more and more like he was wrong and Sam didn't want him the way he wanted her. Maybe he had waited a little too long.

He heard the front door slam close.

"Freddiebear!" His mom called out. "Can you help me with these groceries?"

Freddie dragged himself out of bed and into the front entryway where his mom was holding a bag of groceries and there were two more on the floor. He picked them up and followed her to the kitchen.

"Oh, Freddie," his mom said. "I stopped by Mall-mart and bought you a new package of underwear. I'll sew the days of the week on them right away-"

"Mom!" Freddie dropped the bags onto the counter. "I'm nineteen years old! It is not appropriate for you to be buying my underwear anymore."

"Freddie!" His mom gasped.

"And you know what? I haven't been using those days of the week underwear for FIVE years. Since I started high school."

His mom gasped again.

"Yeah, I have a secret stash of underwear that I have to hide in a false bottom of my dresser drawer. How pathetic is that?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice was telling him that he was upset about Sam and he shouldn't be taking it out on his mom. But a much louder voice occupying a much larger part of his brain was telling him that this was a long time coming, that he should have never let his mom guilt him into living at home instead of at the Seattle Tech dorms just because she had cried for eight hours straight. And then she had bribed him with every piece of new technology that was featured in his latest issue of Pear Monthly. When that hadn't worked, she went in for the kill. No one could say that Marissa Benson didn't know her son and every weakness he had. Especially the biggest one.

She had presented him with a check that was made out to Samantha Puckett.

It was no secret by that point that Sam and Gibby were trying to expand Gibby's out into Seattle. He knew that Principal Franklin and Col. Shay had both invested money in the venture but they were still several thousand dollars short of what they needed to operate the business. What his mom had put in front of him was a check for ten thousand dollars, and she explained that she would invest the money in Sam's business if he agreed to live at home and stay out of the germ infested dorms where he could be corrupted with alcohol, drugs, and all kinds of college debauchery.

Freddie saw his one last chance at freedom, the escape that he'd been dreaming of all of his life, flash before his eyes. He might as well strap on an ankle bracelet because staying at home for his college career really was tantamount to subjecting himself to house arrest. But then he saw Sam's face and how close she was to achieving her dream. He, Freddie Benson, could help make that dream happen.

He told his mom yes, he'd live at home, on the condition that she give the check to Sam herself and act like it's her idea. She could not tell Sam anything about their arrangement. She had agreed and Freddie had only later on learned that in addition to giving the money, his mom had really helped Sam with talking to official city people and getting permits. When Freddie asked her about it she had answered that she was simply protecting her investment by making sure the restaurant actually opened, and she didn't want a repeat of the chicken incident.

It had softened Freddie a little towards his mom after the bribe, but it didn't make his life at home feel any less miserable and restrictive. The truth of it was, he was suffocating. He'd been feeling it for over a year now but had held it in because he really did owe his mom for helping out Sam.

But now the dam was bursting and he'd had enough.

"And you know what else is pathetic?" He continued. "Eleven o'clock curfews! I'm in college, mom. Do you know embarrassing it is to tell people that I have to be home by eleven? Do you know how many headaches I've had to fake? I'm pretty sure all of my friends at school think I have a brain tumor!"

"Freddie, just calm down…"

"No! I won't calm down. I'm nineteen years old, I'm an adult. It's about time you start seeing me as one and I don't think that's going to happen as long as I'm living here."

His mom sat down on a chair at the kitchen table, holding a hand to her chest.

"Freddie, what are you saying?"

"I'm moving out, mom. For good this time."

Sam stumbled onto the couch, practically tripping over her own feet. It was quiet in the apartment, finally blessedly quiet. She thought she'd forgotten what silence sounded like, what it was like to hear herself breathe, and think.

It's been three days since Melanie left, three days that she'd been alone with the baby and really, Sam didn't know how mothers did it. Charlotte cried all through the night. She slept for most of the day but for the life of her, Sam couldn't get her to sleep at night.

She blamed Melanie. After she had left on Friday night, Sam couldn't get Charlotte to stop crying. It was like she knew that her mother had abandoned her and this woman that looked like her mom and sounded like her mom wasn't really her mom. It was like baby super senses. Sam didn't get her to sleep until around six am and that apparently set the pattern for Charlotte's "night" sleep to start at dawn.

Of course, Charlotte could just naturally be a daytime sleeper and a night baby but Sam didn't know because all of her attempts to try and contact her sister had been futile. At least Melanie had packed a bag for the baby, with some diapers, clothes, formula and bottles, plus the stroller was one of those bassinet types for newborns that she could sleep in. But the supplies wouldn't last for more than a few days.

On Saturday Sam had called in sick to work and spent much of the morning that Charlotte slept catching up on sleep herself. She then spent the afternoon freaking out and trying to call Melanie in between tending to Charlotte's baby needs. On Sunday she had Gibby go into the restaurant for her while she went out shopping for more baby supplies. She had asked Chester not to mention the baby if any of her friends (namely Freddie) came over while she was gone. Poor Chester seemed confused but didn't ask any questions.

Sam knew that she couldn't stay MIA at the restaurant and keep the baby a secret forever. It was only a matter of time before either Julie or Gibby came over to check on her. But a part of her was still hoping that Melanie would come back. She just couldn't understand how her sister could dump her baby and still be able to live with herself. Maybe desertion really was in the Puckett genes. She had accused Melanie of being like their mother but right now she was doing a damn good imitation of their father.

And then there was the Freddie situation, which Sam had to force herself to put out of her mind. She had only turned on her phone briefly on Saturday and there were ten text messages and fourteen phone calls from him. She wanted more than anything to hear his voice, or even better to see his face, to have him come over and tell her that everything was going to be alright. But she couldn't burden him with this. This kind of drama was the pains of being a Puckett and she had to deal with it.

His mom had cried, she went down on her knees and begged him, and she had attempted to bribe him again, but this time Freddie held firm. He packed his bags, walked across the hall and knocked at the door of 8D.

Spencer opened the door. "Hey Freddie."

"Hey Spence, can I stay here for awhile?"

From inside 8C they could hear a miserable wailing, which sounded more banshee-like than human.

"Fight with your mom?"

"Big one."

Spencer stepped aside and gestured with one arm. "Come in."

Freddie dragged his bags in and Spencer moved to help when he saw how much stuff he had.

"Whoa, planning to move in?"

"No, I just need to crash here until I find my own place," he grimaced. "Preferably not in the basement again."

"You really moved out?" Spencer asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah, I really did."

"Dude!" He yelled out. "Finally!"

He held up his hand in a high five which Freddie wholeheartedly returned.

"Man," Spencer shook his head. "I thought you'd never leave that place."

"Me either." Freddie moved to sit on the couch but then realized he probably wasn't out of hot water yet. He went to the door, locked and chained it, and only then did he sit on the couch.

Spencer came over with two bottles of Peppy Cola and sat down beside him. "What did you and your mom fight about?"

"Just…stupid stuff. But it isn't about the fight. I've just had enough, you know?"

Spencer nodded and sipped his drink. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why didn't you move into the dorms last year like a normal freshman?"

Freddie sighed. "It's complicated."

"Well, you're welcome to stay here for as long as you need."

"Thanks Spence," he said sincerely, feeling genuinely grateful. "You sure I'm not gonna cramp your style?"

Spencer made a 'pssh' sound. "Please. I lived with a teenage girl for years. Two, if you count Sam."

Freddie grinned.

"There's no worse style crampers than teenage girls and I still had game."

Freddie almost spit out his drink as he started laughing. "Okay, one, you should be glad that Sam or Carly aren't here to hear you say that. And two, you're still single."

Spencer pointed a finger at him. "You want to sleep in the hall?"

He held up a hand innocently.

"So, Freddo, what do you want to do on your first night of freedom?"

Freddie rubbed his chin and pretended to think. Spencer was practically bouncing with excitement next to him.

"Laser tag with Galaxy Wars guns?" He grinned.

"Laser tag with Galaxy Wars guns!" Spencer yelled and ran wildly into his bedroom.

It had only been five days but already Sam's apartment was looking like baby central. She had bought all of the essentials, baby formula, diapers, some clothes, and a changing table. All of which were placed rather carelessly around the apartment but Sam didn't have the energy to clean on top of everything else she had to do. She had also bought toys, cute little cuddly toys, all of which Charlotte had rejected, and an actual bassinet, which she placed in her bedroom. Sam had thought of buying a crib but held off on it.

There was one thing that Sam had learned in four days. Motherhood sucked. It sucked really really bad. She almost, almost couldn't blame her sister for wanting to skip out on it. Just almost.

Charlotte was currently down for her nap and Sam took the opportunity to work on her assignments since she was missing her classes this week. Of course she wasn't even halfway through typing her paper when the baby began crying.

Sam sighed heavily and hopped off her stool. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she muttered.

For a tiny baby, Charlotte sure could scream loud. Sam picked up Charlotte gently, wincing when the crying came right near her ear and then even more when she felt the heaviness on her bottom half, meaning that it was time for a diaper change.

She brought her to the changing table and quickly changed her diaper, finally feeling like she was getting the hang of this. Charlotte stopped crying, thankfully, and Sam picked her up and sat down on her bed, leaning against the headboard with the baby in her arms.

Charlotte's big baby eyes blinked up at her, her mouth opening in a tiny little o.

"See, when you're not crying, you're pretty cute," Sam said. She ran a hand through her soft curls and inhaled her baby smell. Babies did smell pretty good most of the time.

"I know you miss your mama," she said softly. "But you know what? Auntie Sam is way cooler."

Charlotte's arm went up and Sam took hold of her little hand, not believing that a human being could have fingers that were so teeny tiny. And then those tiny fingers latched onto her pinky, which was humongous in comparison, gripping tight and those blue eyes blinked up at her. Sam's heart clenched and she felt a love so complete and so pure run through her. This baby was so small, so innocent of the world that had given her the unfortunate luck of being born to two crappy parents. Right then Sam was determined not to become a crappy aunt. Maybe just maybe she could give this little girl a better upbringing and a better life than what she had. She certainly deserved it.

"I'll take care of you, Charlie," she whispered. "I promise I'll never leave you."

Her little mouth turned up in what Sam could swear was a smile.

"Do you like that, huh? Do you like Charlie? Okay, from now on you'll be Charlie," she said and pressed a kiss to her head.

A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews! Keep 'em coming, I love knowing what you guys think. :)