Chapter 6: Chocolate

Disclaimer: insert humorous comment that notifies readers that iCarly doesn't belong to me.

Day 3

1

Sam was not having a good day. Normally, if somebody had replaced slides for the assembly with ones of, as Miss Wilson said, "a questionable nature", Sam would have been thrilled. Except those slides gave Steve Phillips some points. Sam was still leading among the eleven of them (Rip-Off Rodney had dropped quickly, once the time and effort started to cut into profit), but she had expected to already blow by all the competition by this point.

That had been the first thing. The second thing was Ms. Briggs' smug face looking at her all throughout class. Sam could just feel the thought wave emanating off her: expelled, expelled, expelled. And Sam couldn't risk doing anything about it.

And Freddie. Well, Freddie was just frustrating. Okay, she often found Freddie frustrating. But the fact that she kept thinking about Freddie...that was just pushing the frustration a little too far. If it hadn't been Freddie who was doing it, she would have sworn she was being flirted with last night. But Freddie didn't flirt. Not with her. Not with tomboy, smart-mouthed, slap-happy Sam Puckett.

Clearly, what she needed to do was get away from the situation. Tell Freddie she decided to find the poet by herself, that he was holding her back with his nubby ways. The total nerdocity of him. His Freddieness.

The fact she daydreamed about kissing him. That one she wouldn't mention to him.

She would have to have him replaced as a tutor, too. He'd like that, anyway. She had never been in the situation, but she imagined tutoring Sam Puckett was probably a headache and a half. He'd appreciate it.

Not that it mattered, she found out. Ted stopped her before she even got all the words out of her mouth.

"That's not going to happen, Sam."

"Why not?"

"One, it wouldn't be fair to Mr. Benson. May I remind you he is doing this for his college applications? Two, it wouldn't be fair to you."

"Fair to me? Come on, Ted."

"Principal Franklin. I have reports from your English teacher that you actually participated in class. And your Algebra teacher said you turned in homework. I believe the dear lady almost fainted. Obviously, Mr. Benson is a good influence on you. So he is to remain your tutor."

Freddie is going to pay for this, Sam thought, even as she realized it was in no way his fault.

"Oh, and Sam? You've met the school nurse, correct? I believe she's seen much of your handiwork. Did you know she and Mrs. Benson went to nursing school together? And that Mrs. Benson often has Nurse Bennett check Freddie for any 'anomalies.'"

Sam grunted.

"I hope you have a wonderful school day, Sam. Please do try to stay out of trouble."

2

Sam did her best to avoid Freddie throughout the day. She knew she would have to see him at lunch, unless she planned to skip. Skip lunch two days in a row? Mama didn't do that. She could distract herself with food, though.

But Freddie wasn't there.

"Where's the dork at?" she asked Carly.

"He said he had to do a few things. He told me to tell you if he didn't see you that you guys were going to have your normal tutoring time."

Sam grunted; this seemed the most appropriate response today. She fell upon her defenseless lunch.

"Carly, can I ask you something?"

"What's up, Sam?"

"Did Freddie seem a little strange last night? Do you think he might-"

"Have been flirting with you?" Carly finished.

"Yeah, you think he was?"

"I talked to Spencer about it, and he said guys sometimes do that to keep in practice. It seems weird, but Spencer's dating somebody new every week. So he's got the flirting part down, just not any other relationship stuff."

"So Freddie was practicing with me?"

"I guess. Spencer said he probably picked you, since you would be the last person to take him seriously."

"Oh," Sam said. Carly looked at her.

"You don't like him, do you, Sam?"

"Like Freddie? Are you kidding? What has happened since I've known him that would make you think I like him?"

"Well...no, I guess it wouldn't make sense for you to like him. Even though he's sweet. And kind. And funny...in his own way."

"Are you sure you don't like him, Carly?" Sam asked mockingly, although she was afraid of the answer.

"No. No, I mean, maybe at some point after the taco truck, I thought...but he never asked me again, and now it would seem weird, like dating a cousin or something."

"Well, Freddie hates me anyway. So the thought of us-"

"He doesn't hate you, Sam."

"I wouldn't blame him. I have tortured the boy." Carly sighed.

"Okay, Sam, let me just talk a little bit before you get all...Samish on me. I promise if you do that I won't bring it up again." She looked expectedly at Sam, who nodded at her. "Brace yourself, Sam: you and Freddie are friends. Shush," she admonished, holding up a finger as Sam tried to speak. "You care about each other. I know you would absolutely be against the idea, but I think the idea of you and Freddie as a couple is cute."

"Cute?"

"Yes, you know. Opposites attract. Boy and girl pretend to hate each other when secretly they're in love."

"You've been watching too many Nicholas Sparks movies, Carly. Besides, you forget that I've seen Freddie Benson in love. With you. He would never do anything for me like he did for you."

"It wasn't love, Sam; it was a crush. Freddie knows that, too. And Freddie would absolutely do stuff for you. He has done stuff for you."

"Like what?"

"Well, he's tutoring you, isn't he? And I'm sure you're not making it easy for him. And...Sam, if I tell you this, you have to promise you won't tell Freddie I told you."

"Tell me what?"

"You have to promise, Sam."

"Fine, I promise. What did the boy prince do?"

"You remember Missy?" Sam snorted. Like she could forget Missy. Her stomach rolled every time she thought of Missy. And of her Persian chocolate. So deadly, and yet so delicious. "Well, she didn't win that cruise. Freddie did. And he gave it up to get rid of her."

Sam stared at Carly. She remembered how she had rubbed it in Freddie's face that she had been right about Missy, even though Mr. High-and-Mighty Benson hadn't believed Sam. And Freddie had said nothing.

"I got to go, Carly."

"Sam, you promised."

"I won't say anything, Carly, all right?"

3

She found him in the library.

"Whatcha doing, nub?"

He looked around at her.

"I, uh, noticed that the paper has a watermark on it, one I've seen on paper the school uses. So I've been checking to see if one of the computers was used to write the poem."

"How'd you do that?"

"I just linked to the central server. It keeps backups of everything that is done on all the computers."

"Are you supposed to be able to do that, Freddie?"

He flushed. "Not necessarily. Doesn't matter anyway. If somebody used a computer at school to write it, they didn't leave a trace. They could have written it and printed without saving. Or they could have deleted it after they printed."

"Wouldn't there still be some type of record?"

"Yeah, but if you know what you're doing, you can get rid of it pretty easily. There's probably a good sixty, seventy people here who could do it." Sam frowned. Freddie took it in that she appeared to believe him. He hadn't lied; that made it easier. He had checked the system for any trace. He just knew that he had already removed any already.

"Hey, you know who I was thinking about today?" Sam asked. Freddie shook his head. "Missy Robinson."

"Why were you thinking about her?"

"Oh, somebody had some chocolate at lunch, and I just remembered the chocolate she tried to poison me with. You know, that you didn't believe me about."

Freddie sighed. "Sam, I already told you that you were right about her. That was years ago. Why are you bringing it up now?" And why are you staring at me like that?

"I just like to remind you every few years how wrong you are about everything," she said. He remembered the other time she had talked about doing something every few years. "I'm just gonna apologize every few years so I can start fresh again." That had been right before they had shared their first kiss.

"Noted. Anyway, I can't find anything here, so I guess we will have to figure something out."

"Okay," she said. The poem, for the moment, wasn't anywhere near the top of her list. "Yeah, Missy sure would have ruined a lot of things around here. It's a good thing she won that cruise."

He was good. It made her wonder how much else he had been able to slip past her. She only saw that momentary flicker in his eyes because she was paying so much attention. Freddie, who everybody knew was unable to tell a lie, almost got a lie past her. How much had he lied to her about before?

"Yeah, well, things have a way of working out. Say, I missed lunch because of this, so I'm gonna grab something out of the vending machine. I'll see you at Carly's, right?" She nodded, and he left.

Freddie had won the cruise and given it away to Missy. For her. And he had never told her about it. Her heart fluttered at the thought. But then it stopped. Because he had lied.

Had he? She thought about it. He had never said he didn't give away the cruise. He had never said he won the cruise. He had agreed that Sam had been right about Missy and asked why she had brought it up.

So what would he do if I asked him directly if he gave away the cruise to Missy? Would he lie about it? Would he tell me the truth? But the problem with that is that she knew more than anybody that Freddie was no dummy. He might be gullible, although he wasn't as much as he had been before. But he was smart. He would wonder why she would ask him that after so long. And what could she say that wouldn't break her promise to Carly?

For now, she decided to just concentrate on the fact that Freddie had done something for her she had thought he would only do for a girl he loved. Someone like Carly.

3

Her good mood lasted until the last period. That was when she found out Steve Phillips had replaced the pre-recorded end-of-day announcements, so that it sounded like, instead of talking about the next day's lunch menu, Mr. Howard was commenting on how each food item would change the pitch and tone of a person's flatulence. Steve was now only three points behind Sam.

And Sam hadn't even thought of doing one prank today.

Stupid Freddie.

A/N: Some people have expressed a concern that Freddie might be letting information slip too quickly, since I have said this story will cover at least the two weeks until Sam has to give the name of the poet. I never said that Sam wouldn't find out quickly. I also never said she would. As with many things, there is an ebb and flow.

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