Chapter Twelve: It puts the "Ack!" in Flashback

Things had been pretty hectic the last few days, with talks of college floating through the air while we all waited for those letters of acceptance to come. Sam was the only one who didn't seem on edge, and why should she? She had already landed her dream job as a very popular local food critic, thanks in part to the web show. Carly, on the other hand, couldn't stop stressing over whether she would get in to Washington State University. I wanted to tell her to calm down, but I had learned my lesson from the last time I tried that.

Freddie was the worst of all. For the past week he had been thoroughly freaking out, hardly talking, eating or sleeping unless we made him. Somehow his seemed different. I mean, Freddie graduated valedictorian, did amazing on his SATs, plenty of extracurricular activities; what did he have to worry about? It wasn't until he started avoiding Sam that I began to suspect something more was the problem.

I found the opportunity to talk to him one afternoon when Carly had drug Sam to the mall and Freddie was over working on a new computer program for iCarly. I saw him working nervously on his laptop, stopping occasionally to run his hands through his hair. I tapped on the studio door.

"Oh, hey Spence" he said, turning briefly to acknowledge me and then turning his eyes back to the monitor. I entered and shut the door behind me - no telling how long Carly could manage to keep Sam at the mall. I had to be quick, so I jumped right into it.

"Hey, has something been bothering you?" I asked. Freddie stopped working and stared blankly ahead.

"Yeah, it's just this whole college thing…" he said, less than convincingly.

"Is that all?" I pressed. Freddie didn't respond so I clarified. "There's no way they won't accept you. We all know that."

"Well everyone gets nervous about this, no matter what their chances are." Freddie huffed. I let him take a few breaths before I hit him with the next line.

"You've been avoiding Sam." Freddie whipped his head around, his face red with anger. "You never do that. There's something your not telling us." Freddie suddenly found the floor fascinating and simply stared at it for a long while. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but the words were caught in his throat. I placed my hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me anything, remember?"

Freddie finally lifted his head and looked me in the eye. He was holding back tears, I could tell. I let him take his time, knowing that whatever it was that was on his mind would be tough enough to say without me pressuring him.

"I don't want to go to Harvard" he finally said. That's it?

"That's it?"

"You don't understand," Freddie choked out, wiping a tear from his eye. "I only applied there because my mom wanted me to. I want to go to Seattle Tech…."

"Then go there instead. Your mom will unders - "

"That's not it!" Freddie interrupted, rather harshly. "If I get accepted to Harvard but don't go, Sam will think I decided not to go because of her. She'll think she's holding me back." he finished out of breath and with a weak voice.

"Have you talked to her about this?" I asked.

"No. That's why I've been avoiding her. I don't know how to tell her."

I moved over next to Freddie and put my arm around him. "Look, if there's one thing I know, it's that the basis of every relationship is communication. If you can't tell Sam how you really feel, then things are doomed to fail." I paused to choose my next words carefully. "And I know Sam will understand. She didn't have a lot of people she could trust when she was growing up. But she's always trusted you."

Freddie was very quiet for a long time, drying his eyes and lost in thought. Then he suddenly stood, a slight smile evident on his lips. "Spencer, how do you always know exactly what to say?"

I stood up as well, a goofy grin on my face. "Well," I began, then furled my eyebrows. "I don't know." We both laughed and decided to go to the Groovy Smoothie. Carly and Sam were there. He did tell her, she did understand, and I couldn't help but be proud of myself for working this all out.

And I couldn't help but smile at how perfectly my plan was working.