Chapter 2: Junior Year May Part 2
Song of the Chapter: Everyone Says I'm Paranoid -Apartment

Two weeks had passed before another 'meeting' was commenced in the Janitor's Room, and our favorite couple came busting through the room but in a much friendlier way...

The door opened to Freddie smashing his lips upon the very blond headed demon that had tormented him. He couldn't believe the predicament that had gotten him to this point. Knowing that, like the kiss in the fire escape, it was the kiss that shall never be mentioned again. The thing is; he didn't want it to end.

After that first romp in the closet, he couldn't stop thinking about It. From the way his ear was still recovering from the deadly twist that Sam had given it, to the honey ham flavored lip gloss he tasted. However, his thoughts once came back to reality and he just had to ask the question that she has been avoiding ever since that day before.

Suddenly, he pushed her away. She stood across from him with a confused stare planted upon her face. "Benson?" Sam was trying to keep her cool as she wanted to continue their make-out session.

"Look, Sam…" he said. Suddenly, he had to stop to cover his ears as a stab of pain ran through his ears. Sam couldn't hold back her laughter at that one. "I am still recovering from those twists of yours. So PLEASE…" Freddie sighed. "Just listen?"

"Dork," Sam came so, painstakingly, close to him that their noses were almost touching. "You have the floor." then, she moved back and leaned on the other side of the small square room.

"Ok… now… first question," he gulped hoping that she wouldn't go after the ears again. No matter how bold he wanted to be he HAD to remember that this was the most aggressive girl he had ever known.

"Why did you kiss me, here, in this very closet?" he couldn't fathom anything going farther without a explanation from her. He wanted to see if maybe… just maybe… he wasn't too paranoid that she wanted something more than what it was looking right now, her being a recreational... Kisser?

His heart really wanted to see where this could go, because after years of banter, and the back and forth hate towards each other, it just didn't add up to what was happening. But, for once, his logic could go stuff a turkey. His heart was curious and his brain agreed. He had another friend agreeing who was more in the southern regions of his body, but that was left out of the voting… for obvious reasons.

"Freddie," Sam said right after he was done, "We have less than thirty minutes for lunch and all you want to is ask me is some stupid question while we could be doing better things?"

"Better things?" It was the last thing that Freddie said before she charged towards him shoving her tongue in her mouth.

Again with the falling things. Freddie thought, as he clashed with the wall, helpless, as Sam enjoyed the fruits of her captured prey. Everything was falling over, including the Janitor's jacket, and while he could barely move, he saw the patch that had the name 'Ed' embroidered on it. Ed won't like the fact we are destroying his tidy closet, Freddie thought, Then again, why in the world should I care when this fireball of a girl liking the fact that she has her tongue down MY throat, wait a second...

He had to stop himself before it got insane. He pushed himself off of her again to see a very peeved Sam leering at him, daring him to say something else to just kill the moment.

But I can't let go of what 'this' really means. "Sam, you have great… and I mean GREAT lips and all," Freddie said, exasperated, not knowing if it was from pushing her off or the fact that he missed those honey ham lips on his. "But I am too confused about what is going on with us. You know?" and as Freddie was going to continue talking about how much he wanted to be more than what they were now, Sam Picked up bucket, threw it onto Freddie's head, grabbed the nearest stick by her (which was a mop handle) and went on to repeatedly bash him in the, bucket covered, head with it.

"SAM! SAM!" Freddie was screaming and she stopped and leered at the bucket head, Freddifer Benson, "Can we talk about thi-" his question would be drowned out by the clanking sounds of the wooden mop bashing the bucket. Sam Puckett wasn't a girl of talk, 'leave that to the girly girls,' was her saying. She was a girl of action and he should have just enjoyed the kissing she was doing to him. But, she sort of understood where he was coming from.

Sort of, she thought.

When she finally stopped, Freddie was stumbling to the floor, feeling the effects of how hard the hits were, and he was feeling it pretty hard "Sam, I think I have a concussion..."

"It's like that girl I listened to said in a song," Sam bent down to Freddie's level and stared directly into his eyes, "If you wanna complain, I'm not the complaint department!"

"But Sam, I am not complaining." said Freddie, through the bucket that was still on top of his head. "I'm saying, what if I would like more than just these affairs in the Janitor's closet?"

Sam thought about the possibility very hard. As for Freddie, all he could do was take off the bucket that was covering his head and place it on the floor.

He made Sam think. Something that took a lot to pull off. He really wanted to know if they could give this relationship a try. This was something that he had put a great deal of thought into through these last two weeks. He knew what was ahead. She knew that her aggression wouldn't taper off, and he knew that he wouldn't be any less 'dorky,' as she put it. But there was some mechanic, some style that they went through with each other, that made it so that: no matter how much arguing they did, and how many punches would be thrown, (more physically on Sam's part) and how much they seemed to show off their hostility

THEY could make it work. Well, HE would try.

Maybe I have gotten her to believe tha- but before he could finish that thought, his world around him, had abruptly gone black.

Three hours later.

It was the end of the school day and there was nothing like that for Rigdeway High's residential Janitor, Edward Hartley. Ed, as he would like to be called, has been spending the whole day in the high school's most unfavorable places. From, cleaning the lunch halls after a spur of the moment food fight, to disinfecting the labs from today's "Frog Dissection,".

But there was one place he knew was always clean.

My precious closet, he thought as he came to open it. However, when he would open his closet up, he would instead find it a mess. In fact, it was in more disarray than It had ever been before. He sees his cleaning products littering the floor. His face twisted to a light disgust. He quirked his eyebrow in curiosity to see a student clad only in his boxers and a bucket on top of his head, he looked to have been duct taped like he was kidnapped or something. Ed was about to ask if the student was okay, but then...

"You're Ed?" the student asked suddenly.

"Yea, who are you and why are you in my closet?" Ed answered.

"My name is Fredward Benson, I am in the 11th grade here, and I'm in here because of a bully." Fredward mumbled through the bucket that was still on his head.

"Okay kid," Ed took out a box cutter from his ever handy pockets and cut Fredward loose. Ed pushed him out of the confines of the closet somehow still with the bucket on his head.

"Look," Ed said as he was borrowing through the closet and after a few seconds came out with spare suit Jacket "Take this. No one is here, school is over, and I am doing extra cleaning, go to the bathroom." Ed handed the spare to him and took off the bucket also in the process. "Then Go home, the back door is still open… just go home ok?" All Fredward could do is nod and sprint off towards the bathroom.

"Kids," Is all Ed could grumble under his breath as he started to fix his beloved closet.

A/N: Still interested? Yea I know still pretty short and Most of these stories will. But I promise you, if you looking for a good laugh and a read, you still came to the right place and thanks to ALL reviewers and readers. So please most of all, Stay Reading my friends.