Freddie's POV

It was late after Sam and I had our conversation—eight o' clock. My mom would have a fit if she knew I wasn't in bed by then. That's another perk to staying home alone.

Sam started swaying and let out a huge yawn. She looked really tired—surprising, since sleeping's the only thing she does, next to eating and bullying.

"You can nap, if you want," I offered. She blinked a few times and shook her head.

"N-nah," she said with a yawn, "I-I need to stay…up…" Her voice trailed off as her head fell back onto the couch and she fell asleep. I chuckled. I noticed a bright orange blanket lying by the television. I picked it up and wrapped it around Sam's body. She shifted a little, hugging the blanket closer to her. I smiled and sat down beside her, noticing a black blanket next to me. Happily, I picked it up and laid it over my own self. It was rather cold in my apartment, so the blanket was gladly accepted by my shivering body.

I looked at Sam: her face was so peaceful when she was asleep. It was angelic and innocent, though she herself was so not. It was weird how I never noticed it before when she was napping on Carly's couch. Perhaps that's because she'd punch me, call me a mean nickname, mention something that was wrong with me, and then fall asleep.

Or maybe it was the way the day had gone: I had needed her help, and she gave it. She fed me my medicine, gave me soup, popped in my favorite movie—she was making me feel better though I felt like crud.

Or it might've been the way she talked to me about Carly. She always said "Carly will never you!" to me numerous times but she'd say it to be mean, not to help. Her words were true, that Carly wouldn't love me. It was stupid to chase her when she wasn't going to stop running. She'd find some guy, and they'd be happy, leaving me in the cold. I needed to find another girl.

As I gazed at Sam's face, I found myself getting sleepy. Soon my eyes were shut and I was in dreamland.

Marissa's POV

I hurried down the hallway towards my apartment. My little Freddiepoo was sick! Why didn't he call me?! Teenagers are so complicated.

I had been sipping some tea in the hotel lobby when I heard my phone ringing. I quickly answered it, for it could be an emergency, like Freddie was hurt or bleeding!

"Hello?!" I practically yelled into the phone, "Freddie, is that you?! Are you hurt? Are you—?"

"This is Spencer Shay." said the voice on the other end. Oh great, it was that Carly girl's oddball brother. I cannot believe he is her legal guardian. I must find her father's number and contact him.

"Carly wants to know if Freddie called you yet." he said, "She's worried, you know, since he's got strep throat—" What? What?! WHAT?!?! My Freddiebear was ill and no one told me?!

I hung up immediately and rushed up to my hotel room where I packed up all my stuff. I then took my car straight to the airport and boarded the first plane to Seattle. Luckily the aggressive parenting convention was in Sacramento, so the plane ride was short.

When I arrived at Bushwell Plaza, I ran straight up to the eighth floor and to my apartment. I dropped my bags outside the door and searched for my key. When I found it, I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

There, on my couch, was that devil-girl Samantha Puckett cuddling with my son!

If you haven't caught on my now, Marissa is Mrs. Benson's first name. OK, now...review!