Chapter 16: Picture a Hallway

Disclaimer: The man behind the camera is telling me to tell you I don't own iCarly. Any possibility you may have thought I owned it is entirely my fault, and not the greatness that is Dan Schnei...really, Dan, you want me to read this? Dan! Put that down. Hey...

Day 9 - School

1

Picture a hallway. There are many people in this hallway, but we want to concentrate on only three at the moment. The others are bit players in this scenario. I'm sure their lives are fascinating, but there of no import right now. Just these three.

You can easily pick them out, even if you didn't know who they were. In the motion of the hallway, the ebb-and-tide of a school's pathway, these three are still. Look there, do you see that? They try to avoid looking at each other, but their eyes refuse their minds. The brown-haired boy moves first. He walks to the brunette girl, walks by her, gives a nod, says "Carly", and moves on. He then walks by the blonde and says nothing, but not for a moment does his eyes leave her face. Nor does she stop tracking him as he walks down the hall, until, walking backward with a grace she did not know he had, he goes into a classroom. She turns and looks at the brunette.

Both their hands move an inch, as if they want to greet each other, but then they drop. They move down opposite sides of the hallway.

2

Principal Franklin looked up. Normally when a student came to see him, he or she would sit in the hall or the receptionist would send the student in after notifying him. There were exceptions, of course. Well, one exception. Sam Puckett had made sneaking into his office an art form, and this wouldn't have been the first time he had looked up to see her, grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat.

But this wasn't her.

"Mr. Gibson, may I help you?"

"You got to fix this, Principal Franklin." The boy looked perplexed...well, more perplexed than normal. Hair stood up on his head in tendrils, as if he had dragged his fingers through it several times.

"Fix what?"

"Carly and Sam and Freddie. None of them are talking to each other, and this is all your fault."

"My fault?" Principal Franklin was too shocked at first to reprimand Gibson for talking to him in such a manner. That was something he would expect from Sam, of course, but not from the strange, befuddled boy in front of him.

"You were the one who started the whole poem thing. Freddie told me this morning, sort of. I couldn't really get a lot out of him, but between what he said and what Carly was crying about, you made this happen."

"Hold on a moment, Gibby. Tell me what happened." Gibby did, recounting everything Carly had told him the night before and then interpreting what he had gotten from Freddie that morning among sneers and grunts.

The boy's right. I've made a mess of this. I was always told not to get too involved in the lives of my students. Maybe I should have listened.

"Okay, Gibby, I will see what I can do about this. Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Gibby stared at him. "You can go now."

Gibby stood up. "You really need to do something. I can't stand Carly crying." Principal Franklin looked up at the boy, who walked out the door. Gibson? With Carly Shay? That did not compute, as some of the students might say. Stranger things have happened, though.

He pressed the intercom. "Rachel, have Freddie Benson brought to my office."

3

Sam Puckett was staring at the back of Freddie Benson's head. Perhaps if she stared long enough, his head might explode. Or maybe he would turn around, and she could see in his eyes that he actually would love a rude, meat-loving tomboy like her rather than somebody like sweet, polite, girly-girl Melanie.

He said he did, didn't he?

He was just trying to not hurt my feelings.

Why would he say that, not wanting to hurt your feelings, and yet tell you he kissed your sister, knowing that would definitely hurt your feelings?

Shut up, you.

Sam rested her chin on her wrists. His head wasn't going to explode, but maybe she could make a hair or two catch on fire. One of the office monkeys came into the class and handed the teacher a note. Sam watched as the teacher walked between desks and stopped at Freddie's. She bent down and talked softly to him, and he packed his stuff up and left the room.

What's going on? Not that I ever care about what's going on with the nub. Never.

Sure, you don't.

Didn't I tell you to shut up?

4

"So, wait a minute. Yesterday, I come in here and make these requests to you, and you blow them off, and now you're saying you're removing me as Sam's tutor?"

"It seems circumstances have changed, Mr. Benson, and I must admit my own culpability in current events. Perhaps I should have done this yesterday when you told me of your...transgression." Freddie grimaced. Part of him was relieved. He didn't think Sam would be in any mood to take tutoring from him. And he didn't want her to fail because of him. This felt like giving up, though. He didn't want to give up on Sam. He never should have let it end like it did the night before. He had thought of calling her or going over to her house, but found himself unable to work up the nerve.

"But what about Sam's grades?"

"I have found another tutor for her. I talked to both Mrs. Puckett and Spencer Shay, and they have both assured me they will assist in making sure Sam does her tutoring. Here. After school every day."

Freddie thought about it. That was best for Sam, although he felt bad for whoever her tutor was going to be. That fixed one problem.

"What about the poem?"

"If I am correct, I believe Miss Puckett already knows the author of the work in question. It is my belief that he or she does not wish to be identified, and we have decided to leave it at that. She won't be expelled for that."

"But she could be expelled for something else?"

"Freddie, Sam has long been on the 'could be expelled for something else' train."

Freddie nodded. He had to make it up to Sam. He had to show her that he did love her, and that the kiss with Melanie meant nothing. She wasn't going to want to listen to him. Not right away. So he had to work on proving it before he talked to her.

"I need you to do something for me, Ted."

Principal Franklin looked at him. A large knot grew in his stomach, one that he always identified with the antics of Sam Puckett. Not with Freddie Benson. Not until now.

5

Carly Shay was likely the prissiest girl Sam Puckett had ever met. Based on that alone, the thought of the two of them as friends seemed ridiculous. But Sam had found out long ago that under that prissiness was steel. And Carly was showing it now as she sat down opposite Sam in the cafeteria.

Sam looked up and scowled before returning to her meal. Freddie, at least, had the common sense not to come near her. Of course, she hadn't seen him at all since he had left the classroom. Sam was experienced in these matters. A note usually meant a trip to the counselor or the principal. She couldn't think of any reason Freddie would have to be pulled out of class to see a counselor.

"Sam." Sam pretended not to hear Carly. The problem was that more than anybody Carly had found a way past Sam's defenses. Sam could show a hard heart to many people, even people in her own family, but she could not do it to Carly Shay. "Sam, please talk to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interfered. I was just worried...that you guys would screw this up." And, although it was not loud, Sam could tell Carly was crying.

"Don't." Carly looked at her. "Don't do that, Carly. You know I can't take it when you cry."

"Will you forgive me, Sam?" If Sam didn't know Carly so well, she would almost say she was manipulating Sam. But Carly wouldn't do that. She would do a lot of other things she shouldn't do, but not manipulate Sam.

"Okay, I forgive you. Can we stop talking about this?" Carly immediately got up and came around to Sam and gave her a hug. Sam rolled her eyes, but allowed the hug. She still had a sandwich in her hand, anyway.

"All right, Carly. Chill, or people will start spreading rumors about us." Carly moved away slightly.

"You're really not mad at me, Sam?"

"Tried to be," Sam said, noncommittally. "But I should have known you can't help sticking your nose into other people's business. It was my fault, really."

"What about Freddie, Sam?"

Sam stopped eating. "What about him?"

"He really does love you, you know. Gibby videotaped everything on the fire escape." She blushed under Sam's glare, but didn't avert her eyes. "He did it because I asked. And, Sam, I watched the video...well, mostly listened because there wasn't much to see. Freddie realized right away it wasn't you, and he stopped right away. He really does love you."

Sam didn't say anything for a while. She chewed on her sandwich, although she actually didn't have much taste for it at the moment. "Carly, you know me, right?"

Carly nodded, confused.

"Perhaps everything you say is correct. Perhaps I believe it. Do you think I should go find Freddie and tell him that? How do you think that would work out?" Carly examined Sam. Sam actually thought about this. That was the issue, though. Sam thought about it, and Sam knew how she was-how she would react. Sometimes she couldn't help herself.

"You don't want to say or do anything you'll regret? Or that will push Freddie away?" Sam gave the slightest of nods and put her sandwich down.

"Sam, do you still want to be with him?" Sam gave an even slighter nod. "What do you need me to do, Sam?"

"I don't know, Carly. I see him, and I can't decide if I want to kiss his stupid lips or punch him in the stomach."

"We should probably try to avoid that second part. Why don't you come over tonight, Sam? I'll make sure Freddie isn't around, and we can talk, okay?"

Sam nodded. Carly was a pain in the butt sometimes, but Sam didn't know what she would do without her.

6

"Carly!"

She turned around. She hadn't actually expected him to talk to her so soon. This was one of the occasions when she thought Sam would be easier to deal with than Freddie.

"Hey, Freddie. What's up?" She tried to maintain a casual tone.

"You seen Sam?"

"Yeah, I have, Freddie. I don't think you should really talk to her just yet, though."

"I wasn't planning on it." She stared at him. "I don't mean it like that. I just would rather not face the possibility of her mistaking my face for a therapy pillow. Anyway, I just needed you to let her know that she needs to see Principal Franklin. She's going to have a new tutor now."

"Oh." Well, she didn't have to work out how to move past the awkwardness of disinviting him from her apartment. "Freddie?"

He laughed cynically. "I forgive you, Carly. I don't know why. It's like you can't help but interfering. But anyway, I just needed to have Sam know that, okay."

"Okay," she said, sadly, as he began to walk away. He turned around and came to her and gave her an awkward Benson hug.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered in her ear. Then he left.

"What was that about?" Gibby asked, materializing near her.

"I don't know, but I think we could be okay." She moved over and gave him a hug. He tensed up before relaxing into it, giving her back a casual pat, not wanting to appear like a weirdo, even though he couldn't resist smelling her hair. "Gibby?"

"Yes?"

"You'll tell me when I'm becoming too much of a busybody?"

"Sure."

"And you won't be upset at me when I tell you to shut up for telling me that?"

"Of course not."

"Thanks, Gibby."

A/N:

Thank you for reviews from: Kressxblack, Flutter360, PurpleJerk, Tbayleyt, SeddierFTW, UnderxGravity, Geekquality, Moviepal, flylikeblackjack, BkwormSarah, cynthiarox99, clarksonfan, Penny Tee13, MissSeddie, xxbabygirl15xx, and iCarlyfan101.

PurpleJerk: Yep, this is Sam. As for Carly, both Sam and Freddie look at her as their best friend, so when she keeps something from them, they resent that, even though they realize she's doing it for her other best friend.