Chapter 8: Tingled

Disclaimer: I almost won iCarly on E-bay, but I was sniped at the last second.

Day 4 - School

1

Sam and Freddie arrived at the school early in the morning, probably the earliest Sam arrived at school. It was probably the earliest she had gotten up. But it was going to be good. She was surprised Freddie hadn't put up a protest, especially after she had told him what her plan was.

"Test it on me first," he had said. She stared at him.

"You really trust me?"

"Not really," he said, with a laugh. "But I'd rather you just kill me than an entire classroom."

She tested it, and he said it wasn't that bad, especially since he had been expecting it. Once he had verified the safety he worked with her on the plan.

"You know, you're going to have to do this in more than just one classroom," he said.

"Why?"

"Because if you do it just in your classroom, then the finger of blame is going to point at you right away. And you can't risk that. You should actually not do it in your classroom."

"How am I going to do that?"

"We'll set it up in other classrooms, like one I'm in and one Gibby is in. Carly won't help, but I might be able to get a pal in the AV club to help. When you're ready you text me and Gibby, and we set them off."

"How do I get credit for it, though? People are going to want proof."

"Just film it on your phone. You have a password on it, so nobody will be able to see it unless you show them."

So she did that. The school was quiet when they got there, and the sound of their voices echoed throughout the hallways. Sam was surprised that Freddie seemed to be getting into the prank so much. Maybe I'm a bad influence on him, she thought.

At 10:12, when Sam, Freddie, and Gibby were in their different classes, she sent the text to both Freddie and Gibby. She wrote that within thirty seconds of receiving the text they would do it. Freddie had actually figured out a way to install it in four classrooms, none of which Sam was in.

"The only problem is that because of distance we have to use remotes," Freddie said. "Gibby and I just have to get rid of them before anybody catches us with them."

Thirty seconds after she sent the text, Sam heard shouts from other classrooms. She hid her smile behind hands.

When the bell rang she hurried into the hall as quickly as she could. People were talking to each other about what happened. She saw Freddie and Gibby slapping hands and barely caught Gibby transferring the device to Freddie, who went off in another direction.

"You're coming with me," said a voice behind her. She turned to see Mr. Howard staring down at her.

2

"I didn't do anything, Ted," she said.

"His name is Principal Franklin, Puckett," Mr. Howard said. He stood a little behind Ted, slightly to his left. She hated the way Mr. Howard said her name. She didn't mind when Freddie called her Puckett, but when Mr. Howard did it, he made it sound like a disease oozing off his lip.

"Fine, 'Principal Franklin', I didn't do anything."

"She is responsible for this. I know it," Mr. Howard said, pointing a finger at Sam.

"It wasn't even in her classroom," Principal Franklin said.

"She had help," Mr. Howard said.

"Who would have helped me?" Sam asked. She disliked how close to the truth Mr. Howard was. She had no problem lying to him, but felt bad about being dishonest to Principal Franklin.

"That Shay girl."

Sam laughed, and she saw Principal Franklin suppress a chuckle behind his hand. "There's no way Carly Shay would be involved in..."

"In what, Puckett?" Mr. Howard asked easily.

"In whatever you're accusing me of. What are you accusing me of, by the way?" she asked.

"it seems that somebody rigged desks in four classrooms to send a shock to students," Principal Franklin.

"Electrocution!" Mr. Howard said enthusiastically, as if he could smell burning student flesh. Sam caught Principal Franklin rolling his eyes.

"I wouldn't necessarily call it electrocution. The shock was at a very low level and surprised people more than hurt them. However," he said, gesturing to Sam, "we still take these types of 'pranks' very seriously. As you well know, Sam."

"I wish I could help you, Te...Principal Franklin, but as you pointed out, I wasn't even in those classrooms."

"That Benson boy. That's who it must have been," Mr. Howard said. "I always knew he was a troublemaker." Sam's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't let Freddie get in trouble.

"Benson? Pull a prank? Are you insane?" she asked. She looked at Mr. Howard. "Don't answer that. Freddie Benson would never be involved in anything like that. The nub's too whipped for anything of the sort. You've met his mother."

"Yes, well, Miss Puckett, I believe we've exhausted this topic. If you feel like you have any light to shed on the subject, please let me know. You are dismissed." Principal Franklin gestured for her to leave.

Mr. Howard came around the desk and stood in front of her. "Confess!" he shouted, pointing his finger at her. She smirked at him and left the room. If he stuck his finger at her one more time, she might bite it off. Of course, she had no idea where that finger had been, so maybe not.

3

"So how'd it go?" Freddie asked.

They were sitting in an empty classroom. He had been waiting for her while she was in the principal's office, and she had gestured for him to follow her.

"Not bad. Ted knows I did it, but he can't prove anything. Howard...Howard was freaky. He actually suggested it was you who helped me." Freddie blanched a little.

"What'd you say?"

"I told him he was right, and he called your mother." She laughed at the look on his face. "Relax. It's probably a good thing that Howard brought your name up. Now nobody will believe you had anything to do with it. Everybody thinks he's insane." Freddie nodded, and she smiled as his face slowly turned back to its normal color.

"So what did you really say, Sam?"

"I said that there was no way a nub like you would be involved in something like that." He nodded, not reacting to being called a nub. Being called a nub by Sam was like being called Freddie by anybody else. "Why did you do it, Freddie?"

"I promised you I would."

"You could have gotten in trouble," she said.

He shrugged.

"You mom could have found out," she said, sing-songingly. He looked at her.

"I promised you, Sam. And I already told you that we're friends. You're just gonna have to get used to it. Besides." He paused. "It was sort of fun."

Sam stared at him. "Oh, no, I've corrupted him. What would his mother say?"

"'That young lady is a bad influence on you and will only lead you to a life of ruin and regret,'" Freddie said.

"Did she actually say that about me?" Sam asked.

"No," he said. "She said that about Carly. My mom's actually never really said anything bad about you. Well, no more than anybody else."

Sam laughed. "She really hates Carly, doesn't she?"

"She really, really does," Freddie said. They laughed.

"I guess that ruins your wedding plans," Sam said.

"I already said I don't feel about Carly like that anymore, Sam," he said. She knew, but she wouldn't admit she liked hearing him say it again. It just seemed too girly.

"Well, you ready to go, friend?" Freddie asked.

"Stop calling me that," she said.

"What, friend. I'm sorry, friend, I didn't think it would bother you if I called you my friend. Because you are. My friend."

"Shut up, Freddie," she said, laughing. She stood up and moved away from him. He got up and followed her.

"Where you going, friend?"

"Freddie, stop calling me that."

"Calling you what, friend?"

"That's it," she said. And she jumped on him. He fell backwards, and she straddled his stomach, easily holding his wrists down to the floor. He was stronger than he used to be, but Sam was one of the toughest people in school. Plus, he never really fought back with her.

"Are you going to stop?" she asked, laughter still in her voice.

"Stop what, friend?" he asked, smiling up at her.

"You call me that one more time, and I'm gonna punch you, Benson," she said.

"Would it be a friendly punch?" he asked and smirked at her. She was about to reply before she realized the position they were in. Suddenly all humor went out of the situation for her. Freddie must have sensed something, also, because he began to look uncomfortable.

"I, uh, gotta get to class, Sam."

"Yeah, me, too. Don't need to be expelled for tardiness," she said, and got up quickly. She was out of the room before he had even stood up.

"This isn't good," Freddie said to himself.

In the hallway, Sam leaned against the wall. This isn't good, she thought. Her feelings for Freddie were hard enough to handle when she only saw him a little of the day and when she was able to use Carly as a buffer. What if Freddie found out? She could imagine that. "I said we were friends, Sam, but I never said I saw you as a girl. You're almost like one of my guy pals."

Pal.

4

Sam found Carly being overwhelmed by Gibby. It seemed after his conversation with Spencer Gibby had decided to concentrate all his flirting on Carly.

"Beat it, Gibster," Sam said.

"Until our paths cross again, I bid farewell, my sweet princess," Gibby said to Carly and moved down the hall. Sam stared at him.

"You don't think he wrote that poem, do you, Carls?" she asked. Carly didn't answer. "Carly?" She looked at her. Carly appeared to have a glazed look on her face.

"Carly! Come on, you're not falling for Gibby, are you?" Carly shook her head and looked at Sam.

"No! No, it's just nice to be complimented."

"Isn't he still with that Tasha chick, anyway?"

"No, they kind of drifted apart. It probably didn't help being at different schools."

"Well, there you go. Make your move."

"Sam! It's not like that."

"Whatever, we have other problems to worry about."

"Oh, no, Sam, they didn't find it was you who did the prank this morning, did they?"

"No. Why would you think it was me?"

"Come on, Sam. I'm your best friend. Of course it was you." Sam frowned in a "okay, you got me" way. "So what's the problem?"

"Okay, you have to be my best friend when I tell you this, but you can't be Carly."

"What do you mean?" Carly asked.

"I don't want you to act like Carly. I don't need your...Carlyness. I just need to talk to somebody about it."

"Talk about what?" Carly asked, trying to gauge just how offended she should be about the "Carlyness" comment.

"I like Freddie."

A/N: Ebb and tide, people, remember. Don't you just wish people could get over themselves and just admit to others that they love them? Of course, if that was the case this story would have been 100 words long. I understand that Sam needed to talk to somebody, but was Carly the right choice? We'll see (and by we'll see, I don't mean that she wasn't the right choice; I just mean I'm being a jerk and teasing you. I think I might have some Sam in me).

Thank you for reviews from PurpleJerk, jackpotdante, Moviepal, kiyokoseddie, Geekquality, Flutter360, ShooshYeah35, and .

PurpleJerk: As for Sam having perspective, I think it's both just something she is and also because Freddie is involved. I've noticed that people who seem to love pushing buttons (which Sam does) just have that quality of knowing just what button to push.

Geekquality: I don't know if Spencer will set anything on fire, but he will still have a part to play. Especially once Carly gets hold of him.

: Fine, here's an update. Now can I have my mind back?