Chapter 19: Not There Again
Disclaimer: It ain't mine. Wah.
Day 10 - Night
1
"You never grease the tang swan for the ink scratch pictures." That phrase wouldn't leave Sam's mind. It was one of the few things Reuben had said that day that she came even close to understanding. She had spent her entire study hall completing her math homework, just so she would have to spend less time with Reuben going over it. Thinking of that, she realized Principal Franklin had a little touch of evil genius in him. If it wasn't Sam who had to suffer because of it, she would almost admire him.
But trying to pick up on poetry was hard enough without having to worry about a Reuben spin on it. He got A's in English, though. How, Sam had no idea. Today, she didn't even have the energy to verbally assault him (how she would love to do it physically, but she had come close enough to expulsion today without even doing anything, thank you). No, the only poem that really concerned her nowadays was the one Freddie had written. For her. She tried not to think about that, because it made her feel giddy. Made her feel like Carly. Which was fine, if she was Carly, but she wasn't. She was Sam. And Sam didn't do giddy.
Except what was she going to do when she talked to Freddie? She had felt in control when she told him they were going to talk, but, now, actually thinking about having the conversation made her stomach feel queasy. And she had to think about the fact that she was behind on points in the prank contest. And she had Reuben's weird phrase in her mind...and it seemed to be syncing with the music of "You Light Up My Life."
"Gah."
When she got in the hallway between Freddie's and Carly's apartment, she refused to look at his door. There wasn't any reason she had to talk to him right away, was there? Of course not. Maybe he was eating. Maybe his mom was giving him a tick bath. To interrupt would be rude. And Sam Puckett wasn't rude. Everybody said so.
Well, not every...
Shut up.
She grabbed the handle to Carly's door, before realizing Freddie could be in there. Why wouldn't he be? Didn't they all spend more time there than they did practically anywhere else? But for her to worry about that would mean she was scared. And she wasn't.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
2
"Hey, Carls." Sam took a furtive look around. No Freddie. Of course, he could be up in the studio.
"Hey, Sam." Carly looked at her expectedly. Sam pretended not to notice.
"Got anything to eat?"
"Don't we always?"
"Excellent." Sam went to the fridge. There was ham in there. Ham always worked on calming her nerves.
"So, did you talk to to Freddie yet?" Carly just couldn't help it, could she?
"Nope, he upstairs?" Carly shook her head. Good, she could put it off a little longer. She brought the ham with her and sat down next to Carly. "What are we watching?"
Carly looked at her and grabbed the remote. She selected the DVR button and clicked on a program called "The History of Underwear."
"What are you doing, Carly?"
"I think this is a fascinating show, don't you?" She smirked at Sam. Sam turned to the TV and within two minutes had heard the word "panties" six times. She glared at Carly. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I've just been waiting to watch this. You know, if you want to go take a walk, maybe talk with somebody, I'm sure it will be over by the time you get back."
Sam stood up. She put the plate of ham on Carly's lap. Let her put it up. "You're going to pay for this, you know that, Shay?"
"No, I won't," Carly said.
Sam went out the door. "Yeah, I know."
3
She stood outside his door, not yet ready to knock. For all she knew, he could be standing on the other side with his eye at the peephole, looking at her like he used to do with Carly. He would do that, wouldn't he, the little creep?
She shook her head. You're just looking for some excuse so you can punch him or give him a wedgie, so he'll forget this conversation, so he won't know how large a hold he has on your heart. She rolled her eyes at herself. That sounded like something Carly would say.
She knocked on the door. Four or five seconds later, it opened. And Freddie's mother stood there.
"Oh, it's you." She waited.
"Is Freddie here?" Sam asked, in a voice much too soft to be her own. Mrs. Benson looked at her, surprised.
"I'll get him." She shut the door gently and then another fifteen seconds later Freddie came out, closing the door behind him.
"Hey, Sam."
"Hey...nub." Freddie flinched at that, which confused Sam. She had called him that so many times she had started to think of it as a term of endearment, not that she had told him that.
"Uh...did you want to come in?"
"No, I don't think I want to have this conversation in there." Freddie nodded. He pointed to Carly's apartment, but Sam shook her head. He sighed.
"Where, then...Sam?"
She thought. We might as well do this, since everything seems to happen there anyway. "Fire escape." She was surprised again when he winced.
"Hold on a sec. I'm going to let my mom know what I'm doing." He went back inside.
"Okay, I guess," Sam said to the empty hallway.
4
Freddie pressed his eye to the peephole as he pressed the contact number on his phone. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.
"Freddie?"
The girl in the hall did not move, did not speak, did not hold a phone.
"Melanie?"
"Yes, silly, you called me, didn't you?"
"This is really you, Melanie? We're not doing any weird switching again?"
"Of course not, Freddie. I'm at my boarding school. Why, is Sam there?"
"She's in the hall. She wants to talk. On the fire escape."
"Oh. Hold on." He heard some rustling, then some short breaths. A few moments later, she was back on. "Okay, Freddie, I'm sending you a picture of me in front of a sign at my school. I have a paper with today's date on it."
Freddie took the phone away from his ear and looked at the picture after he retrieved it. Okay, it was Melanie. Or Sam had flown all the way to her boarding school for an elaborate joke. It wasn't photoshopped, he could tell.
"Okay, Melanie. Thanks. Sorry for being so paranoid."
She laughed lightly. "No problem, Freddie. I understand. It is Sam." She paused. "Freddie? Good luck."
"Thanks, Melanie."
5
He came back into the hall. "Okay, let's go."
"Geez, Freddie, we're just gonna be like thirty feet away. Did she have you put an electronic lease on or something?"
"Oh, you know my mom."
They walked to the fire escape together, each taking secret glances at the other. Freddie gestured for her to go first, and then he followed. Part of him wondered if maybe Sam hadn't forgiven him for kissing her sister, and that maybe she planned on throwing him over. You're being paranoid, he thought. Sure, yeah, but last time he wasn't paranoid, and he had ended up kissing Melanie.
"So, Sam, what do you want to talk about?"
She was silent. He looked at her. He was glad he had called Melanie, because Sam was not acting like herself. She seemed shy and unsure of herself, which wasn't Sam. Except when it comes to guys, he thought. Then he caught himself. Wait, am I guy? I mean, yeah, I'm a guy, but a guy to her? He felt perspiration bead on his temple. He knew he loved her, and Melanie had insisted Sam felt the same, but the thought of that actually being a topic of conversation, especially after the disastrous incident with Melanie, made him nervous.
Sam looked down. "So you wrote the poem?"
"Yeah," he whispered.
"About me?" She looked up.
"Yeah," he said, wincing when his voice cracked a little. She didn't seem to notice.
"You lied to me."
"What? I didn't lie to you, Sam."
"You didn't tell me you had written it before."
"You never asked, Sam. I told you I would tell Principal Franklin it was me."
"But you made it seem like you were just doing it as a favor to me, not because you had actually written it. Why would you do that?"
"Because I was scared, Sam," he said, his voice louder. He took a moment to lower it. "We're us, Sam. We've done this for so long. I didn't want to tell you how I felt and then have you..."
"Reject you?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Why do you think I would reject you?"
"Gee, I don't know, Sam," he said, laughing. "Maybe because you've made it your business to let me know in no uncertain terms that no women will ever love me."
"Oh." Sam looked down. She said something he didn't hear.
"What?"
"I said, I didn't want anybody else to...you know, love you. Because..."
"You did?"
She nodded. She wouldn't look at him. She looked off in the distance. A light breeze caught her hair and waved it behind her in tendrils. He took a step closer to her.
"So what are we going to do about this, Sam?"
"I don't know, Freddie. You did kiss my sister."
"I didn't know it was Melanie."
"Okay, but how can you lo...like me if you can't even tell who I am?"
He took a step back. "Sam, you sent her over to trick me. She was trying to act like you, not to mention that I couldn't pin down a particular 'Sam' behavior, because you're all over the place. Sometimes you're the same bullying Sam that made junior high such a pain. Sometimes you're this unbelievably sweet girl. And sometimes you're just this amazing and smart and beautiful girl. How was I to know?"
"You should have," she whispered. Her face was down, so he didn't see the blush blooming on her cheeks. He had called her smart. And beautiful.
"But I did figure it out, Sam," he said, and he regained the step he had lost. He took another step forward. Gently, and not without fear, he lifted her chin with his index finger.
Her eyes seemed to blaze at him with an unreadable emotion. "How, Freddie? How could you tell?"
If he had time to think, his thought would have been that Sam would never understand the bravery it took to do what he did. He brought his lips down to hers. He felt her gasp against him, and then her lips parted and molded against his. He put his hand on her cheek and pressed his lips lightly around her upper lip. He heard a soft moan come from her. He could feel his heart in his chest, in his shoulders, his fingers, his toes, his hair. It felt like it was beating outside him.
Finally, they pulled apart.
"That's how. That's how...I knew it wasn't you. Just now, I knew. I knew. That's Sam. You're Sam."
"You can't...you can't kiss me. Nobody kisses me without permission. I..."
"Oh." Freddie nodded. Then he bent down and kissed her again, a little harder. He felt her hands fall on his hips and stay. Then he felt her mouth move against his, trying to be the aggressor, and he let her.
She pulled away. "You can't. This isn't...us. We don't do this. If you try that again, I swear...I'll..." Her words died away.
He nodded. "It's okay. I wore the cup." Then he bent for a third time. Before he had a chance, her lips had already moved up to meet his. He felt her hands interlock around the back of his neck.
She felt him bend down. Her mind was confused, intoxicated with his lips on hers, and she gasped when she felt his arms circle around her thighs, and all of a sudden she was lifted, and now she was bending down into his kiss, while he was holding her. When did Freddie get strong? she asked that annoying part of her mind.
Shut up and kiss, you idiot, it shot back.
6
"Bye, Gibby." Carly hung up the phone. She had gotten weary of waiting for Sam to come back. So she decided to pass the time by calling Gibby. That was the only reason she called him. And without her noticing, an hour had passed. Gibby said his mother wanted him to do something, so he had to go.
Without Gibby to distract her, her worries began to come back. What if Sam had hurt Freddie? What if she killed Freddie? That was silly, of course. Sam could be mean, but she would never kill Freddie. That didn't stop the thought from sticking, though. She had just decided she was going to check on them, risking accusations of snooping, when Sam came in. She looked slightly dazed. She sat on the couch next to Carly.
Carly looked at her for a minute, waiting. Sam didn't say anything.
"Sam?"
Nothing.
"Sam?" Carly said louder. Sam shook her head.
"Oh, hey, Carly, what's up?"
"What's up? You tell me."
"I think I'm gonna see if you have some bacon." Sam got up and headed toward the kitchen, but Carly followed her and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around.
"What happened with you and Freddie?"
"Freddie? Oh, uh, we...we, uh, kissed." Sam said this very quietly.
"You kissed?" Carly asked.
Sam nodded.
"Sam?" Sam looked at her. Carly looked like she was going to burst out of her skin. She gave Sam a questioning look. Sam rolled her eyes.
"Fine, no more than five seconds."
"Yay." Carly grabbed Sam by the hands and began jumping up and down. Sam joined her, although with less enthusiasm. After five seconds, Sam stopped and waved Carly away. Sam headed toward the fridge again, only to have Carly spin her around by the arm again. Carly was really lucky she was Sam's best friend. Sam looked at her, registered the look on Carly's face, and sighed.
"I'm not going to be able to eat, am I?"
"As soon as you tell me everything, I will make you anything you want. Plus, I will buy you a smoothie."
Sam thought about it. "Okay." Carly would be the person she would talk to about boys, anyway. The only difference was that this was Freddie.
Carly pulled her to the couch. "How long was the kiss?"
"Which one?" Carly perked up.
"How many times did you kiss?"
"Uh...I'm not sure. Ten? Twelve, maybe." Carly giggled girlishly, and Sam blushed.
"Twelve times? Wow. Who initiated the first one?"
"He did."
"Wow, way to go, Freddie."
"Hey!"
"Sorry. Okay, start from the beginning."
Sam rolled her eyes. She knew she was going to have to do this anyway. Actually, she didn't really mind, at least not with Carly.
"We were out on the fire escape..."
7
Spencer wasn't meaning to eavesdrop. It just sort of happened. Not that he normally sat right next to his door, but he just liked to try different parts of the room for acoustics.
So Freddie and Sam are together. Suddenly, his phone rang and a squeak escaped him. He quickly answered it.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's Freddie."
"Oh, hey, stud."
"Oh my gosh." Spencer chuckled. Once he stopped, Freddie spoke again. "I need your help again."
"What? I thought was going to be the only time. And if you're with Sam, then you don't need to do this."
"It's because I'm with Sam I need to do this. Come on, Spencer. I'm not forcing you; I'm asking you as a friend."
Spencer sighed. "Fine. I don't like this, though."
"It will be fine."
A/N: Heh, I wrote yesterday that I thought Melanie had played her last role in this story, and of course she ends up in this chapter. I hadn't meant that to happen, but I wrote the "hey...nub" part and realized it paralleled Melanie's talk with Freddie, and I just kind of had to do it.
By the way, I don't know if any other writers have the same issue, but it was a little strange for me to have some distance between Sam and Mrs. Benson, considering I had them have a closer relationship in two of my other stories. I guess that will happen when you do different timelines.
Thank you for reviews from: sylvia.I, Geekquality, MissSeddie, UnderxGravity, Icarya, Moviepal, Penny Tee13, kiyokoseddie, PurpleJerk, fireman35, Julefor, SeddierFTW, Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie, and Divina Rose.
Sylvia: I'm sure Sam would have preferred to only be dealing with Freddie, but them's the breaks. As for Gibby and Carly, they do have a date coming up, but who knows where it will lead?
UnderxGravity: I have way too many aspects of my life that have theme songs for them. Although, as of now, not one of them is "You Light Up My Life."
Penny Tee13: Actually I picture Principal Franklin rocking some Barry White, but it seems he has a secret Debby Boone guilty pleasure.
PurpleJerk: It would be nice if it was Freddie, but, come on, we have to remember this is the same guy who thought a great prank was putting raisins in somebody's hat. What happened at the school seems a little outside his comfort zone, and I couldn't get away (nor should I) with making the characters that, well, out of character.
Julefor: Sorry, you know how I feel about Freddie abuse. I can't let that happen too often. He was still smart to wear it, though.
SeddierFTW: I got four comments about the cup. I didn't think people would really latch onto that (not the cup itself-never mind). It almost makes me feel bad that I didn't let Sam kick him. However, if anybody is in the mood for Sam kicking somebody in the crotch, please check out my story, "Nothing to Fear" (wow, what a strange way to advertise a story).