A/N: Decided to make this into a series of Seddie vignettes (also known as one-shots). This one is dedicated to nleslie, for coming up with the 'my life is a spiral' line. That was awesome, and you officially win the internets. :D
Let me know if this seems rushed or awkward, people, or if it seems too formulaic; such knowledge is relevant to my interests.

Speaking Under the Influence

The numbers swam before her eyes, glowing brightly in the dim light of the front porch. Somebody next to her was staring into the bulb, waving their hands in front of their face and laughing. She rolled her eyes and walked slowly and carefully down the front steps, sitting heavily on them. Before she even realized that she had dialed a number, she could hear ringing, and then a click as someone picked up.

"Uh... hello?" Sam was almost sure that she recognized that voice, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Hello?" The voice on the other end was quickly becoming irritated and impatient, and suddenly it clicked in her head.

"Freddie?!" She said this happily, which she might've thought strange had she not just had one too many screwdrivers.

"Sam?" She nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see her over the phone. "Are you... okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine Freddie. Fred. Fredward Benson." At this she laughed, but it wasn't the usual 'Hah! You're name is Fredward!' laugh. It seemed like she was laughing at a joke she hadn't told, and it was something he couldn't quite grasp. Once the laughter died down, Sam decided she didn't feel too well.

"You don't sound fi-" Sam sighed loudly into the phone, cutting him off as she spoke again.

"Listen. Fredward. I need you to come... and pick me up." All was silent for a moment, interrupted only by a quick "please".

She could hear the frustration in his voice as he grumbled to himself, the vague shifting of blankets in the background, and she giggled. "Look... can't you take a cab?" Feeling personally affronted that he didn't want to come save her from herself, she made various offended noises into the phone while she searched her pockets. If he didn't care enough to come, then maybe she would take a cab. When her hands came back to her face, all she found was a piece of beef jerky, some lint, and a few pennies.

"...I don't have any money."

Freddie groaned on the other end of the line. Sam sniffed the beef jerky, and then decided to eat it. "Fine," he ground out. "Where are you?"

"Malcolm's party. You remember Malcolm Kinney? He dumped grape juice on you that one time..."

"Sam, that was last week." She could almost feel him rolling his eyes at her. "What's the address?"

After a moment of mulling it over, she told him. She had taken that moment to look at the house number; just to be sure. And the street sign, too.

Someone stumbled down the stairs to her left, and fell flat on his face in the grass. Her phone slid shut with a click, and she almost laughed until she saw who it was. He grinned lazily up at her. She flipped him off, and went to go sit at the edge of the lawn.

--

Sitting there, waiting for Freddie to arrive, Sam had a lot of time to think. And at this moment in time, thinking was not her strong suit. She would start out wondering why she had called him, then that would turn into her picturing rainy nights when she was lonely, and he was there. But just there, not in that way. Which then led to thinking about the stupid boy in the grass, and how his lips tasted like cigarettes and beer. How she'd wanted him, something, someone that was just for her, even if it was only for one night. How he didn't want her back.

And so her thoughts cycled like this as she sat, cross-legged, ripping blades of grass from the earth and shredding them to bits. Just when she had started thinking of Freddie again, he had to go and ruin it by sitting next to her.

"Go away, jackass." There was only anger there, and nothing more. Sam was good at being angry; it was easier than being sad or disappointed. Suddenly she felt cool, slimy fingers on her neck. It was sobering, to say the least. Her adrenaline kicked in, and she swatted his hand away violently.

"Ouch," he said, and laughed. She didn't look at him for a few reasons; because he was an idiot, and because he was still cute, and she was still drunk. "C'mon, Sammy... forgive me?" He started to reach his hand up again.

"Touch me, and you'll come away with one less finger." The lackadaisical apathy that had flooded into her with the vodka seemed to disappear. Maybe she just hadn't drunk enough. She had drunk a lot, though.

She was too stunned by his next (and last) words to her to do anything violent as he stumbled away, and back into the party. Too shocked to notice the sound of the engine rumbling in front of her, the car door as it opened.

"Sam, let's go." Looking up, she saw Freddie's face peeking over the top of his mother's car. She thought he must've had to sneak out of the house; his mother never would've let him drive to get her this late at night, especially in her current condition. Sam knew, like Freddie's wacky mom, that she was a bad influence.

As she got in, she didn't say anything. Just buckled the seatbelt and leaned her head against the cool glass of the window. Just like Ryan had said, she was 'fucking worthless'.

She shrank back into herself, seemed like she was smaller than she used to be. Freddie noticed, but he didn't say anything as they set off, the tires spinning on the road beneath them. It was the only sound to be heard.

Sam folded her hands over her stomach. She really didn't feel good.

--

The engine cut out as Freddie turned the key in the ignition, and they sat for a moment in the parking lot of Sam's apartment building. "Are you sure you're gonna be alright?"

"I'm fine." She got out of the car as soon as she'd said it, and started walking quickly toward the main door of the building. The sound of the door slamming closed, some hurried footsteps, and Freddie was in front of her. She stumbled, a bit taken aback. Maybe it was the alcohol slowing her down; that boy could barely even walk fast.

"I heard what Ryan said to you... He's an ass."

A sound like a grunt came out of her throat, a choked laugh. Freddie just looked at her with those pitying eyes. For a second she hated him; viscerally, completely. She side-stepped him and continued on. His hand shot out and grasped her arm. "Sam-"

"What?" Sam asked, spinning drunkenly to face him. It was the second time she'd cut him off tonight. "You think I'm gonna be all 'oh ehm gee, my life is like a spiral, spinning down into dark, black, blackyness' just because some boy with... stupid hair... didn't wanna kiss me?" She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing when he didn't answer her immediately. "Gimme a break, you weenie."

She tried to pry her arm away from him so she could leave in a drunken huff, but it just wasn't happening. The only reason he even managed to turn her around the first time was because she was drunk and tired and weak. And this time when he pulled her close and kissed her hard on the lips, she only got weaker, and entirely more intoxicated.

When he was done, she slapped him. Not hard; just right.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" Sam just shrugged and looked away while he grimaced in pain. If she wasn't so angry at everything in the entire universe, she might've smiled, because Fredward Benson looked oh so adorable rubbing his cheek with that baffled, frustrated look on his face.

"I don't need a pity kiss, especially from an ultra dweeb like you." For some reason, unbeknownst to her, she chose to stand there awkwardly, waiting for him to respond. Maybe she was hoping she was wrong.

"So you respond by slapping me in the face?" When she didn't say anything, he rolled his eyes. "I like you, and you're an idiot." At that moment, he kissed her again. She felt really stupid. The butterflies in her stomach churned like a maelstrom as she pulled away and looked up at him. Sam wasn't used to getting what she really wanted, but right now she was willing to be cautiously optimistic.

Freddie smiled at her nervously. She then celebrated the occasion by leaning forward and vomiting all over his shoes.

Sam suddenly felt better than she had in weeks.