Thank you so much for all the positive feedback! I'll try my very best to keep rolling out the chapters and pull together some of the one shot ideas I have for publishing.
Inspirations: Live Like We're Dying - Kris Allen; Bulletproof - La Roux; She's A Lady - Forever the Sickest Kids; Breakfast At Tiffany's - Deep Blue Something; Jersey - Mayday Parade; Heartbeat - Stereo Skyline.
Chapter Four: iWant to Go to Spain
The day went by so much faster than I thought it would after our encounter in the closet. I was almost reluctant to wait for Carly at her locker like I normally do, especially because Freddie was lingering around, too. I still felt sick to my stomach after what went down earlier in the afternoon, but the pain wasn't nearly as bad as it was initially. I was trying to ignore it at this point in time, too, because I didn't want to fuck anything else up today.
I guess I had kind of zoned out because I was lulled from my reverie to Carly's calming voice and her hand slowly waving in front of my face. "Earth to Sam," She had a sing-song to her voice and the corners of my lips upturned into a small smile.
"I am so off today." I confessed almost sadly. She nodded, pushing stray blond curls from my face. Her fingertips grazed along my skin and the surface she previously touched tingled. I watched a smile pull innocently across her face, too.
"I noticed," She replied, opening her locker and dumping some books inside. The hallways had already started to clear, too.
"What took you so long getting here?" I inquired, my back leaning against the lockers as I pulled my eyes away from watching her. I couldn't now, not when Freddie was standing around and fixing his PearPod or something tech-like. But he could see us; he could hear us. I had to watch myself.
"I had to ask Senora about that trip to Spain over the summer. I really want to go." She told me. Great. There you go, Carly Shay, breaking my heart slowly and painfully. "Spencer already gave me the a-okay, but they still need one more spot to fill before the minimum requirement is –"
"What grade do I need to have in class to go?" I asked, cutting her off. I gave an apologetic look and she turned her head to look at me, skeptically.
"Eighty five or higher. What do you even have in Spanish?" She asked me. We both opted for taking Spanish as our language in school. I didn't want to, but Carly had urged me to take it all four years of high school. Of course, I conformed. We were both taking Honors Spanish III, just different periods during the day. She had just come from Spanish, where I had it before her. It was a new situation. I still wasn't used to being in the damn honors class.
"When do I need to get my grade up high enough?" I asked. I shook my head. She would get upset with me if she knew that I was failing Spanish. It's so hard to focus! It's like she's speaking another language! Wait... fuck, it's Spanish, that's why.
"Next week. What do you have in Spanish, Sam?" She sounded persistent. Secretly, I loved when she used such force in her voice; when Carly got angry, it was the most adorable thing ever, seriously. Like, no lie. It was fucking cute.
"Sixty three," Also known as, failing. I saw her eyes grow wide. She swatted at my left shoulder and my nose crinkled slightly. "It's because I bombed that last test! I couldn't remember how to conjugate the verbs in whatever tense we learned..."
"The past tense," She offered up and I nodded. "Well, then I'll tutor you. I'll help you study for the test on Thursday," She took a step closer to me, letting her fingertips brush along my face. I had barely noticed that my breath caught in my throat when she touched my face. I always tried not to let that happen when we were alone but lately? Ugh, I was so caught off guard after she had kissed me last night. It just put the icing on the damn cake, truly.
"I'd like that." My voice sounded so weak. My knees felt terribly wobbly beneath my weight, too, and that never happened to me before. I was not used to this overwhelming nervous feeling that she was enticing in my gut. I felt like I was going to be sick again.
"So open your locker and bring your Spanish book and notebook back to my apartment. You're spending the night." She didn't even give me room to discuss the matter. What if I didn't want to spend the night with her again? Hell, I did. Of course I did. Why would I want to go home to Mommy Drinks A Lot when I could stay with my best friend and learn Espaྃol and sleep in her bed and maybe make out with her again. Yeah. I was really only thinking about that last bit... kissing Carly again. My head was spinning again.
I opened my locker up and pulled out my Spanish notebook. It was rather neat. That's because I only used it like... twice? I did my homework. I did all the worksheets we would get in class. I would just copy off of Carissa Stock, who sat next to me. She was one of those people who picked up on foreign languages very easily. I didn't have the heart to cheat off of her on tests and quizzes. That's why I was failing the class.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a light smile dancing on Carly's lips. I think she waved to Freddie and he left, because her smile seemed to grow. Once I closed my locker, she reached for my free hand and pulled me outside. It was a nice day out: it wasn't freezing, it wasn't boiling, and it wasn't rainy. Well, it wasn't exactly sunny either, but it wasn't dismal like Seattle usually was. We were still holding hands. I didn't quite have the thought to let go of her hand either. I didn't want to. I never wanted to let go.
"We already missed the bus to your bus stop, so how are we..."
"We're walking, Sam. It's not that far away,"
"It's like a mile!" I whined back at her, frowning. She squeezed my hand.
"Suck it up." She retorted cheekily.
"Do you have any ham?" I was standing in front of the fridge, pulling the door open. She was at the stove top, making something that smelled like flavored rice or noodles, you know, one of those things from the package that was really easy to make and you had to stir it a ton. I hate using the stove. It's so tedious to me. Why can't I just make a fucking sandwich or something? It's just simple.
"Check the lunch meat drawer. There might be deli cuts in there." She replied. Shortly after we got back to her apartment from school, Spencer had called. He was going to Austria to fetch their father's body in the hearse and bring it home for the funeral. That would be held sometime within the next week. Honestly, no one was looking forward to it. As Carly's best friend, it was my job to keep her focused on anything but her father's death. I know my dad was never around and I got used to that, but Carly had some kind of parental figure in her life. She lost her mom. She lost her dad. I had lost my mom long ago; I was used to it. Spencer was the closest thing to a parent I had, and he was more like a big brother; he always had been.
I frowned and opened the drawer she suggested. Nothing. Damn. We were all alone in the apartment, though. That was a good thing. The sun had just recently set when we decided to make something for dinner. I moved to stand next to her, folding my arms over my chest and leaning against the counter casually.
"So, no meat for us to make. I say... fuck the rice,"
"I'm making noodles." She playfully grumbled, lifting her gaze to meet mine and giving me a soft glare. She didn't like when I cursed. I would try my best to stop cursing if she asked. It was hard for me to go against her wishes at times, especially when she flashed that stellar smile.
"Well, whatever. Let's order a pizza or something. Or Chinese," Just as the words left my mouth, she turned off the burner on the stove and turned her attention to me, still stirring the noodles that she was cooking. She wore some kind of devilish smile, something that I had only ever dreamed of seeing plastered across her face. "What's going on in your head?" I asked, obviously teasing her.
"I'm sure you know what's going on in my head, Sam." She replied, giggling softly. The giggle she emitted did not match the smirk her smile had morphed into. I unfolded my arms from my chest and moved to stand closer beside her. My chin rested on her shoulder. I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my face a little into the crook of her neck. When my nose brushed against her jaw, I felt her shift on her feet. She was getting nervous, too. So it wasn't just me. Good.
"Yeah, well.. I didn't think you thought like that." Her voice was soft and sweet and so incredibly angelic, I almost had to pinch myself. Seriously. I must be in the hospital, tripping on acid and ten thousand other illegal street drugs, getting my stomach pumped. This is not reality. This is some dream that I've concocted in my mind and projected to myself, making it look like my reality. Huh. I didn't know I was so capable.
But no. This is reality. How did I know? Just as she turned her head and our lips came dangerously close, the apartment door flung open. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a few steps away from her, turning my head and opening my eyes. Freddie was panting heavily, almost doubled over, his palms resting on his knees. But I didn't care. Damn you, Fredward. I was about to get another kiss. Ugh.
"If my mom... comes knocking on... the door, I'm not... not here." He heaved, lifting his head. I could see the beads of sweat that had formed on his brow. Since the door had shut behind him, as soon as he heard rapping at the door, he slipped down the hallway, cowering in the bathroom. I just rolled my eyes. I think Carly did the same.
"Tell me again why we put up with him?" She asked, turning her head to look at me. She didn't seem too pleased with the fact that he kind of... bursted through the door. I mean, sure, Carly and Freddie were friends, to some degree. Hell, even I was friends with him to some degree. But man... he has really, really bad timing. As far as I'm concerned, we were about to kiss, about to pick up from where we had left off when she first kissed me. But I don't know. She just seemed bummed that Freddie was here now.
"Because if we didn't have him, then we wouldn't have iCarly and we would have to handle all the tech crap ourselves," I reminded her and she nodded, leaning towards me and pressing her lips chastely to my cheek. I felt my face grow hot and she smirked again.
Again, the door flung open. This time, it was Freddie's semi-neurotic mother. She was about to speak and I just pointed in the direction of the bathroom. She nodded. She did not like me and I did not like her, simple as that.
"Mom! Come on, I don't want to..."
"It's Wednesday and that means Mother-Son Knitting Club." Mrs. Benson yanked Freddie into the hallway and shoved a bag of yarns and knitting needles into his arms. He sighed and hung his head. Sometimes, I felt bad for the boy. Knitting is fucking boring as shit.
"Poor Freddie," Carly offered, shrugging and closed the door behind him. I watched her lock the door, too. That's when I started to head for the couch. I sat down in a rather lazy position: my feet were propped up on the coffee table and my hands were braced at the nape of my neck. The couch shifted as she sunk down beside me and sat in a similar fashion. Her legs were longer than mine, so she was able to reach the table more easily with her heels.
"I guess I kind of feel for him." I admitted to her. I heard her voice a throaty gasp. "What? I'm not allowed to care for his well-being on occasions?"
"You're allowed. It's just.. different," Was that jealousy I detected in Carly's voice? Perhaps. Maybe I was just getting my hopes up. That's when I felt courage wash over me.
"What made you kiss me last night?" My voice sounded so weak, so much weaker than I wanted it to sound. She looked at my nervously and shifted her position, reaching for the remote and sitting casually, crossing her legs at the knee, left over right.
I felt her move closer to me and she folded her arms over her chest, resting her head on my shoulder. Hesitantly, I took my arms from their place and wrapped one around her shoulders in a rather protective manner.
"You don't have to tell me now. I was just... curious." I whispered, playing with her hair rather innocently. "I know you're struggling because of what happened. I just want to be here for you, Carly, however you need me to be here."
I could hear her breathing steady and stagger. She was nervous. I could see it in her face. Sometimes she was so impossible to read, but other times? She was like an open book. I've been told I'm hard to read, but Carly can see right through the majority of my lies. Sometimes she knew my thoughts even before I got to considering them; it was scary how well we knew each other.
"I needed ... something tangible, I don't know." She explained, her words feeling rushed. I knew she didn't actually have a reason. She threaded her fingers through her hair slowly as she lifted her head from my shoulder. She started to get up and pace slowly around the room, her head hanging, her eyes focused on her shuffling feet.
I don't like seeing her like this. I stood up and I came around the other side of the couch, my hands holding her shoulders lightly. I could practically feel the confusion emanating from her face and it was torturing me.
"Carls," When I spoke her name, she made eye contact with me. I smiled weakly to her, trying to ensure her that the situation was all right. We would still be friends. "It's okay that you kissed me, I don't mind. I just didn't even know you..."
"I'm not. I don't." She replied.
"Then why..." I felt lost now.
"I told you. I don't know, Sam." She explained, unfolding her arms from her chest. She took my hands and wrapped them around her waist. She moved closer to me, hugging me close, resting her chin on my shoulder. I squeezed my eyes shut. "I just need comfort right now. The last thing that Spence and I thought could happen would be Dad dying," She continued speaking, spilling everything to me. It felt like ages that we stood there, holding one another, me listening, and her speaking. Occasionally, she turned her face into the side of my neck and spoke. She didn't know what kind of effect she had on me. My breath caught when she did that. My knees were wobbling already.
There came a time when she stopped talking. All I could hear was her steady, even breaths, the same breaths I could feel against the skin of my neck. She was driving me crazy. After all this time, all the growing up we had done since we first met, I was still just an inch or two shorter than her. She had me wrapped around her little finger.
"Are you staying here tonight?" She asked against my neck, her lips moving delicately along my skin. The way they did so made my heart beat faster.
"Uh, yeah." I replied quietly and she disengaged herself from me. I felt a tug at my left hand and the corners of my lips flipped into a small smile. She was leading me somewhere. "Where are we going?"
"Upstairs. I wanted to show you something." She offered, leading me up the stairs. For some reason, she didn't feel like going in the elevator. That's cool. Sometimes that thing was really slow. We moved into her bedroom and she gestured for me to sit on her bed. I crossed my legs and she dug out a journal-like notebook. Or maybe it was a diary. But it was rather large. She sat down beside me and opened it up. A scrapbook.
"I didn't know you kept one of these..."
"It's really just pictures, from when I was little until the most recent ones." She explained. When she opened it to the first few pages, I saw pictures of a young Carly with both of her parents. About fifteen pages in, there was a picture with Carly and her mom, both happy and smiling. I remember her mom. Carly looked a lot like her mother. Next to the picture, one of the prayer cards from the funeral was placed in the scrapbook. I remember going to that funeral, too. Spencer had made a point not to cry, but Carly was. And I was right there next to her, hugging her and consoling her, even though we were only ten. I knew it was the right thing to do. She was my best friend and she always will be, no matter what happens between us.
She kept flipping through the book. We laughed and smiled over all the memories that Carly had packed into this scrapbook. That's when I realized something. We had so many memories together. There were barely any pictures of her and her father. I felt bad for putting myself, my own feelings, before hers.
"I miss him, too, Carls." I told her. I had only met her dad a few times, though. When her mom was still around, he was shipped out, always. But when her mom passed, he was on leave, luckily. He requested not to be shipped out as soon as he was because he wanted to be with Spencer and Carly. But when he had to ship out again, he left Spencer in charge of Carly. It had been that way for awhile, too. Every once in awhile, their dad would come home for a day or so, be on leave and catch a plane back to Seattle before he had to ship out again. But that wasn't nearly often enough.
I felt her head rest on my shoulder again. I wrapped an arm around her waist protectively. Her breath caught and tears welled in her eyes. I could feel them against my shoulder; there were so many that they made my shirt wet. I moved my hand to rub the small of her back gently. She had to cry. She had to get out the sorrow that she needed. Every once in awhile, it was good to cry. Even I cried sometimes. Not in front of anyone but Carly, but yeah, I did cry. I'm sure that even if I was shot in the stomach, I wouldn't cry unless it was just me and Carly. I could not bring myself to cry around anyone but her. I just wasn't a very trusting person when it came to other people.
Almost an hour passed and her tears had subsided. She kept her head on my shoulder and closed the scrapbook, setting it beside her. She rubbed her eyes quietly and lifted her head, glancing to me. I looked back at her and she pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. I felt my face grow hot. My chest tightened.
"Come on, let's go improve your Espaྃol," She offered brightly, getting up and pulling me to my feet. She dragged me downstairs and to the living room. I loved when she spoke Spanish. Oh. My. God. Hell, I loved when anyone spoke a foreign language. Spanish and French. Mm, they were definitely my weaknesses.
"So I can bring up my grade and go to Spain with you?" She nodded to me and continued tugging me down the stairs. Ugh. That meant I'd have to get more hours at work. As of now, my babysitting days were on hold. I figured, on top of that, I could apply to a fast food place or something in the mall. Maybe the book store? I don't know. It would be a lot easier to save up some money, especially if Mom didn't have the cash to front me for the trip. I had some money saved still from babysitting - it was sitting in my savings account, collecting less than one percent, due to our epically failing economic state.
"Something like that..." She offered; I could hear the smirk in her voice. I threaded my fingers through my hair as we sat down on the couch. She obviously had brought her Spanish text book home with her. I only brought my notebook. She helped me learn some of the stuff that would be on the test at the end of the week, and corrected my pronunciation several times over. And she teased me because I couldn't roll my r's like she could!
"Rrrojo," Her voice sounded so delicate. "Come on. You can't roll your tongue, Sam?"
"Rojo." My voice sounded like shit compared to hers. "I can't roll my tongue." I frowned to her and she lightly hit my arm, chuckling.
"Look, I'll show you how. You go like this," She kept her mouth open, showing me how her tongue would vibrate against the roof of her moth. "Now you try,"
I made an attempt and kind of failed at it. But then I realized how... close we were. She was inhaling my exhales; I was inhaling her exhales. Our foreheads leaned together and I felt my smile grow wide. I could see hers grow in size, too. Well, there was one thing I learned from Spanish class...
"Puedo dar un beso, por favor?" I whispered softly. She chuckled gladly and nodded slowly against me, catching my lips. I couldn't remember when my lips tingled so much from one little kiss. We didn't get too involved with this kiss, and that was my fault. I pulled back. I stopped it. I kept my forehead on hers and pulled away gently. Taking a deep breath, I tried to get the smile off my face, but it just wouldn't go away. "Since that's the... only thing I can say in Spanish besides hola, we should probably get to work..."
So, the next few chapters or so, their relationship is going to flourish a bit more. Carly is still grieving for her father, and Sam actually needs to take the brain to understand and deal with that.
I'll get the next chapters together ASAP.