Chapter 11: Sam Again

Disclaimer: I own a large yard; will someone come mow it for me? I'll give you iCarly for it (disclaimer: author does not actually own iCarly, the television show. Instead, he owns a stuffed squirrel he calls "iCarly", but he won't actually give it to you, as he will hide it while you are mowing his lawn and insist he already gave it to you). (disclaimer: author should perhaps not mow two acres in 100 degree weather).

Day 5 - night

1

It wasn't their best iCarly episode. Freddie supposed that was probably his fault. According to Sam, it was. It seemed the friendship they had both ceded that they shared over the last few days had been replaced by the old dynamic, filled with insults and eye rolls.

"We're up here, Freddumb," she said for the third time, as the camera strayed while he once again looked at the girl off to the side. Who happened to look a lot like Sam. And by a lot, he mused, he meant exactly. Except for the make-up and the hair style and the clothes...

"Dork!"

and the name calling, it was Sam. Or Melanie. Who until tonight Freddie had thought did not exist. Sure, he had seen her on Sam's Splashface page, but Freddie assumed that was just Sam continuing the joke long after it was funny.

On second thought, he decided, the bad show wasn't his fault. He wouldn't have been so confused if Sam hadn't told him that Melanie really didn't exist and that it was just Sam pretending to be Melanie. And it was Sam who had sprung Melanie on him moments before the show was supposed to start.

"Melanie's gonna be here this weekend. Let's start the show." And she just stood there, waiting for Freddie to start after that. After he fumbled for the camera and barely did the countdown coherently, she looked at him like he was dirt. Between taking looks at the other Sam...Melanie...he tried to think what he had done wrong. He had apologized for his hand missing her pocket, and she had accepted it, after torturing him about his perversion for a good ten minutes. Sure, she could be mad about her sister being here, but why would that make her mad at Freddie? She still treated Carly the same.

"Could you guys stand opposite each other and pretend there's a mirror between you?" Gibby asked, his eyes wide.

"Shut up, spud," Sam said.

"Sam!"

"It's not my fault he's a spud, Carly."

Freddie decided there wasn't much he could do about Sam, if she wouldn't talk to him, so he might as well set things right with somebody else.

"Hi, Melanie. I'm Freddie. I don't believe we've been properly introduced when I didn't think you were Sam." He held out his hand, and she shook it, smiling sweetly. "And I want to apologize for my behavior that night. I really, really thought you were Sam."

Carly heard Sam growl and saw her tense. She grabbed Sam's shoulder. "Sam, let's go get that ham downstairs." And she practically pushed Sam out the door. Gibby followed them.

"You don't have to apologize, Freddie. I know how Sam can be. I'm just glad you're not running away from me anymore." Freddie blushed.

"So you're going to be here all weekend? Sam seems happy about that," Freddie said, grinning.

Melanie giggled.

2

"Sam, what is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," she said, as she kept looking at the stairs.

"Gibby!" Carly said.

"Yes, my sweet," he said.

"I want a smoothie. Could you get me one?" She started to take money out of her purse, but he waved her off and was already out the door. "Sam, you look like you want to beat Freddie up."

"Well, he is a nub," Sam said.

"Yes, a nub you admitted you loved a few days ago," Carly said. Sam frowned at her. She sighed.

"It's been enough I have to compete with you, Carly. I can't compete with somebody who looks like me and acts like you. Even if he liked me, why wouldn't he want to be with somebody...nicer?"

"Oh, Sam," Carly said and hugged her best friend. They heard Freddie and Melanie coming down the stairs and broke apart. Sam dived for the fridge and began to shove meat in her mouth, which was not uncommon for her.

"Sam, we're having dinner with Mom," Melanie said.

"Snack," Sam said, around her food. Melanie looked disgusted.

Freddie decided he might as well walk into the lion's den. "Sam, I know you obviously want to spend time with your sister." Melanie smiled at this, while Sam sneered. "We do have a test to prepare for next week, so do you want to get together this weekend to go over it?"

"No can do, dork. Mom's really on this 'spending time with her daughters' thing."

"I don't mind if Freddie comes over," Melanie said.

"No." Sam grabbed Melanie by the arm and dragged her out the door. Melanie gave Freddie a small wave and a smile.

"Huh," he said.

3

Carly watched as Freddie went upstairs to shut the equipment down. She understood Sam was upset about Melanie, but she was coming perilously close to pushing Freddie into Melanie's arms. Carly needed to do some damage control. She thought she could do it without breaking Sam's promise. Maybe.

"Here's your smoothie, Carly," Gibby said, coming into the room.

"Thanks, Gibby. Uh...I really hate to do this, but could you leave? I'm really sorry, but I have to talk to Freddie about something." She winced at the way his face fell, but she was having a hard enough time with her best friends' relationship. She would have to make it up to him later.

"Oh...sure. I guess I'll see you later." He walked out the door, looking like Charlie Brown in a Peanuts special.

Freddie came downstairs.

"Freddie, can we talk?"

4

"Sam, what is your problem?"

"What are you talking about, Mel?"

"Why were you so mean to Freddie?"

"Why do you care if I'm mean to the nub? Afraid I'll scare him away from another date with you?" Melanie sighed.

"Is that what you're afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything!" Sam shouted. They were getting ready for dinner.

"Sam...Mom says she thinks you like Freddie."

"What?" Mom thinks that? Mom paid attention to me? "That's ridiculous. I never liked the nub."

"He seems to think differently."

"Oh, so you're talk buddies now?"

"No, Sam, he was upset because of the way you were treating him. He thought you might have been mad at him for something that happened at school. Something about duct tape." She smiled, as Sam blushed.

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

"No, he's more your type, Melanie," Sam said.

"Sam, you know I wouldn't do anything if you liked him."

"Whatever. Let's go."

5

"Freddie, can we talk?" Carly asked, when he had come downstairs.

"I guess so. Where's Gibby?"

"He went home." She sat down and gestured for him to do the same. Something's wrong, he thought. Maybe his mom would get worried about him and come over. That would be good.

"Do you like Melanie, Freddie?"

"Uh, yeah, she seems pretty nice," he said. Was she trying to set him up with Melanie?

"No, I mean, do you like her?" She made a gesture with her eyebrows he found somewhat disturbing.

"I never really thought about it, Carly. Besides she doesn't even live here. There's no reason to even consider it." His phone buzzed, indicating a text message. He sighed with relief, thinking it was his mom wanting him to come home. But, instead, it was a message from Gibby. He frowned at it and typed a quick reply.

"Do you think Melanie is pretty, Freddie?"

"Why are you asking me this, Carly?"

"Can't I have a conversation with my friend?"

"Sure, but I think we can find out more interesting things to talk about than this."

"So you're saying you don't think Melanie is pretty?"

"Carly, I didn't say that! Of course, she's pretty." Oh, no. Carly smirked.

"So, if you think Melanie is pretty, you probably think Sam is pretty, too?" Freddie's phone buzzed. He read the message, rolled his eyes, and replied again.

"Sure, I guess Sam would be pretty, too," he said.

"Do you like Sam, Freddie?"

"She's one of my best friends, Carly. Just like you."

"You know that's not what I meant." There was another text message. Freddie replied.

"Freddie Benson, you need to come home right now," Mrs. Benson said, opening the door to the Shay apartment.

"Oh, thank goodness," Freddie said. He jumped up and ran out the door.

So close, Carly thought. Then she noticed that Freddie had left his phone behind. No, that would be wrong, she thought. And yet she found herself picking up his phone. She saw the text conversation he had been having.

Gibby: I thought you didn't like Carly anymore.

Freddie: I don't. What are you talking about?

Gibby: Why are you spending so much time with her?

Freddie: Because she's giving me the third degree about something.

Gibby: Oh, that's great.

Freddie: Thanks, Gibby. Wait, you don't like Carly, do you?

As she read the messages, a new text from Gibby came up. don't say anything, Freddie.

"Oh, boy."

6

His escape was flawless, he thought, until he realized he had left his phone at Carly's. Perhaps I can just leave it there, he thought. But I have some stuff on there I don't really need Carly to see. Besides, what if Sam calls or texts? What if Sam calls or texts. Man, what a wuss I am.

He sighed. He would have to get the phone. He went over, knocked on the door, and went in. Carly was sitting on the couch, looking a little dazed. His phone was on the edge of the coffee table. He couldn't remember it being there, but maybe he had set it down while Carly was grilling him. He looked at her. Maybe he could grab it and get out before she realized he was there. He picked up the phone. And Carly grabbed his wrist.

"Did you write that poem, Freddie?"

"Poem? Carly, I told you I'm not a poet."

"That's not what I asked, Fredward. Did you write that poem?"

"I can write you a computer program. I don't think I can make it rhyme, though."

"You're lying. I can't believe you."

"I'm not lying!"

"Yes, you are. You're lying by responding without actually answering the question. Tell me, Freddie, with a yes or a no, did you write the poem?"

Lie to her, he thought. But he couldn't. He had developed the non-answer answer because he had found lying to both Sam and Carly so hard. When he started doing that, he didn't feel guilty, because he was able to reason with himself that it wasn't technically lying. "Yes," he whispered.

"Did you write it about Sam?" He closed his eyes and nodded at her. "Freddie, you have to tell Sam."

"No, no way, not going to happen. If I tell Sam, our friendship is ruined, and I'm not going to let that happen."

"But she..." Carly stopped. She had made a promise. She knew if she told Freddie, then maybe the two of them could get together, could be happy. But would Sam forgive her? "How do you know she doesn't feel the same way, Freddie?"

"Do you think she feels the same way, Carly?"

Carly paused. She wasn't sure what to say. Freddie took it as a no. "Right, so we just don't say anything about it. Got it?"

"What about the poem, Freddie? If Sam doesn't give Principal Franklin the author, she's gonna get expelled." Freddie nodded.

"I know. I'm going to tell him next week I wrote it, but that I don't want anybody to know about it. He'll have to respect my privacy. Carly, you have to promise me you won't say anything to Sam." Carly sighed. All these promises. She nodded.

"Thanks, Carly." He left.

7

Carly took a long shower. Her friends liked each other, and somehow she had promised the both of them she wouldn't tell the other one. This was ridiculous.

When she finished she came downstairs and saw Spencer working on his robot sculpture.

"Spencer, I thought you weren't going to do that!"

"Don't worry, Carly, it's not going to spout fire. I'm gonna have it spray paint. I'm going to call it Metal Rainbow. It should be pretty cool."

"Yeah, that's awesome," she said, sitting on the couch.

"What's the matter, little sister?" He began pushing a hose through the robot.

"Nothing. I just found out some people like each other, but they won't say anything to each other about it."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Sam and Freddie will figure it out." Carly sat up.

"I didn't say it was Sam and Freddie. Why did you say it was Sam and Freddie?"

"Because...they're two people. Yeah, they are." He looked panicked. Carly came over to him. She punched him on the shoulder.

"You knew. You knew, and you didn't tell me." She punched him again.

"Ow. Okay, I knew. Any fool could see...ow. Stop that!"

"Why didn't you say anything to me, Spencer?"

"I don't know. Maybe I thought you would overreact. Clearly I was wrong."

Carly hit him one more time and sat back down. "What am I going to do?"

Spencer sat down next to her. "You have to let them figure it out, Carly. They've been doing it little by little. They'll get there. Just be their friend, and don't let them hurt each other. I mean, don't let Sam hurt Freddie."

"Thanks, Spencer." She hugged him. "But you can't hide anything from me anymore." She looked up. "Spencer, your robot's on fire."

"Oh, man."

A/N: Well, for those of you who have complained that things seemed to be moving too quickly, remember what I said about ebb-and-tide earlier? I actually feel sorry for Carly.

Thank you for reviews from: Moviepal, kiyokoseddie, LadyArtemis101, SeddierFTW, Mm Mystery, PurpleJerk, Penny Tee13, Flutter360, Geekquality, WillowEchoRiver, and kittyhawk09.

SeddierFTW: I will leave it to each person's own imagination to decide exactly where Freddie missed her pocket. And sending a video and deleting it and the e-mail actually wouldn't take that long.

Mm Mystery: Sorry I put your name like that, but the last time I kept it with the period your name didn't show up. Consider the dots connected.