iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon
Chapter Three: iBelieve in Second Chances
Sam stepped out of the car as though she were in a daze. She had accepted that this was a dream and was waiting for the point when steaks would fall from the sky cooked to perfection for her enjoyment. Sadly, no such thing happened. Everything seemed fairly realistic, except for the fact that everything was wrong.
"I'll have mom pick you up at the usual time," called the man in the car pretending to be Sam's father. "If you feel like you don't want to finish out the day, you can always call. We'd be happy to bring you home."
"Okay, thanks," was all Sam could muster up to say.
"I love you."
Sam stopped for a moment. She couldn't find a way to respond. This was just too strange. She walked through the doors of Ridgeway. At least everything there seemed familiar. Her backpack slung over her back, she decided to walk to her locker. She plopped her backpack on the floor and tried to open her locker. She tried the combination once, nothing happened. Great. This is just what I need today, she thought annoyed. After a few more tries, she stopped, secretly wishing she had brought a hammer to school. Watching the hallway begin to fill in, she looked around desperately for a familiar face. Finally, she saw one.
"Gibby!" she called to the boy. He turned around and smiled.
"Hey, Sam."
"Oh thank cheese," Sam said, sighing with relief as she ran to approach her friend. "Dude, you have no idea what happened to me this morning."
"You fell on a hobo!" Gibby guessed, poorly.
Sam rolled her eyes. "No! I woke up this morning and my mom was cooking breakfast!"
Gibby stared blankly at her. "Oh...dear?"
"But it wasn't really my mom. I mean it couldn't have been. And Melanie was there and this beefy man who looked just like..." she couldn't bring herself to say it. "But this lady touched my hair and made me food and...ugh! Do you see what I mean?"
Gibby tilted his head. "Uh..."
Sam grabbed him by the shoulders. "My house is being overrun by Puckett impostors!"
"Sam," Gibby finally said. "I say this because I love you and I care about you..." He placed his hands on her shoulders this time. "You're insane."
"I'm not insane! My dad is back! My sister is here! My mom is...nice...something's not right!" Sam shouted. She grabbed Gibby by the arm and dragged him over to her locker.
"Ow! When did you get so strong?" he murmured.
"I wanna know what's going on!" she snapped. "Did someone sneak into my house and replace my mom with a robot? Was it Freddie?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Gibby said, definitively. Sam narrowed her gaze, giving him the Puckett stare. "I swear!" he said again. "I always thought your mom was cool."
Sam cocked an eyebrow. "Cool? She drove her car into the school building after she had cataract surgery."
Gibby laughed. "When did she do that?"
"Like a few years ago. Where have you been?"
"I guess I must have blocked it from my memory." Gibby's watch began to beep. "Sorry, Sam. I gotta run. I promised Rodney I would take pictures for him."
"Why?" Sam complained.
Gibby shrugged. "Cause he said I could keep this hat." He pulled a giant light-up hat out of his backpack and put it on his head. It flashed red and yellow lights all around.
"Alright, fine," Sam said, letting him go. At least Gibby hasn't changed, she thought with relief. She went back to trying to open her locker, which failed once again.
"I'm gonna dismantle you..." she whispered angrily at the lock.
"Attack!" came a battle cry from off in the distance. Sam turned around. Before she knew what was happening, her face became covered with silly string. A smaller freshman boy held it, cackling as he ran off. Sam scraped the goop off of her face, charging after the boy.
"Hey!" Sam yelled, her voice carrying down the hall. The boy didn't stop. Sam clenched her fists and caught up to him, turning him around to face her. "Gimmie the can, Kid." The boy tried to run away but Sam picked him up by his collar to drag him back.
"Ah! Help!" he squirmed.
"Give me the can!" The boy handed Sam the can of silly string. She looked at it and laughed. "Heh. Silly string. Amateur, but still entertaining." She put the nozzle of the can to the boy's face. "That aside..." her eyes narrowed. "You just chose the wrong target, buddy." She shook the can, watching the boy's face fill with dread. "Do you think I like having my face covered with silly string? You think I spent all my time this morning trying to look good so you could screw it up?" her voice was calm, but menacing. "Rule number one, Kid. Don't screw with me." She flipped the boy over and squirted the silly string down his pants. She crushed the can in her hand and handed it back to the boy, shaking her head. He swallowed hard before sprinting up the stairs. "Tell your friends!" she called back with a satisfied grin.
Dusting off her hands, she walked back to her locker to try one last time to open it. Perhaps the world wasn't as different as she thought. Still, she didn't understand why everyone was now looking at her with fear. Didn't they already know it was bad news to mess with a Puckett? Wendy held her books close to her as she passed by.
"Oh, hey Wen-" She didn't stop. Sam rolled her eyes. Okay, fine. Whatever, she thought. She was beginning to wonder where Carly was. It was already almost nine and she wasn't at school yet. She decided to take out her phone and text her. As she dug through her pockets trying to locate her phone, a familiar rush of blue passed by the lockers. Even though Sam could only see through her peripheral vision, she knew who it was straight away.
"Freddie!" she called. He stopped as soon as he heard her voice. He looked exactly the same, which was a alleviation to Sam. Same stupid one-shoulder backpack, same spiked up hair, same dorky polo shirt. Sam never thought she would be so happy to see that dumb blue polo shirt again.
"Oh." He said, backtracking. "There you are." He rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. Smiling, he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips before passing by. Sam felt her cheeks flush, her heart began beating faster and faster. Her mind went blank. She couldn't move. All she could do was have her eyes follow him as he stared back into his phone as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
"Um...hello?"
"Hang on..." he announced as he stared into his phone. "Just let me do this one...aha!" He exclaimed gleefully. His eyes squinted as he showed Sam a huge smile, presenting the screen of his phone to her. "Level sixty! ¡Que Buenísimo!"
Sam tried to snap out of her daze. "What game is that?"
"Cake Cruncher," he replied, putting the phone back in his pocket. "Gibby says if I get to a higher level than him he'll wear a pink tuxedo to the dance."
"What level's he on?"
"Four hundred and thirty nine."
Sam's mouth fell open. "Holy Blintz."
"I know. God, it would be so worth it, though!" Freddie slipped off his backpack. "Oh! I have to show you something. I know you don't care and I totally respect that. But I'm excited, so I'm gonna show you anyway!" He reached into his backpack and pulled out a catalogue. "Ta da!" Sam stared at him unamused. "It's the costume my Mom's gonna make for the Galaxy Wars convention."
Sam faked a smile. "Oh...that's so interesting..." she droned, sardonically.
Freddie fake laughed in response. "Shut up. I'm not making you go." He stuffed the catalogue back in his backpack and hoisted it over his shoulder. "You just have to listen to me fanboy about it once and then we'll never talk about it again, okay?"
"You're such a nub," Sam said, rolling her eyes.
"I know," he said. His head tilted to the side as he smiled. "But I'm your nub."
Sam's smile began to fade, a pain creeping into her chest. "You...are?"
Freddie laughed in a puzzled manor. "Well, yeah. Of course. Crazy woman."
He leaned in again, touching his lips to the bottom of hers. This kiss lingered on for a few seconds. Sam could feel her mind racing. All that time they lost, all of those moments she could have made together but didn't, disappeared as though they had never existed. He pulled away and pushed some hair out of her face. Sam stared at him, her eyes filled with both longing and disbelief.
"There." He said. "Now do you belie-" His words were stopped as Sam grabbed him by the collar of his polo shirt, smacking her lips against his. With each kiss, she pulled herself closer to him. Her hands moved from his collar to his neck, and from his neck to the back of his hair. His hands rested themselves on her waist.
She pulled away for a moment, looking into his eyes. "I missed you," she said breathlessly.
"I can tell." Sam felt her lips drawn to him again, as though making up for every second. Freddie laughed as he tried to pull away. "Sam..." he said, as she kissed him over and over again. "Okay...okay!" He blushed moving away from her. "Calm down. You're acting like we're about to die in a fiery explosion of death."
Sam felt her cheeks turn pink as she removed herself from his body. "Sorry." She couldn't stop looking at him.
"It's fine. I just don't want to get in trouble."
"Yeah, like I've ever been concerned about that," Sam teased. She let the tension pass before she continued. "So...you...and I...we're...together..."
Freddie scrunched his eyebrows together, tucking his lower lip under his upper. "No, I hate you. Be gone from my sight!" he joked.
"Just making sure," Sam replied, half to herself. "But-"
The moment was interrupted by a loud scream coming from outside. Sam turned around to see the commotion. In walked Ms. Briggs, her face ripe red. "Alright!" she shouted. The students began to scatter. "Who did it? I know one of you did it!" She spun on her heels to face a sophomore girl. "Was it you?" The girl ran the other direction, far away from the angry woman. "I want an explanation!"
Principal Franklin entered the scene, briskly. "Francine, what are you yelling about?"
Ms. Briggs scowled. "One of these little pine nuts broke into my house last night and spray painted my car!"
Franklin pouted, confused. "Your honda?"
"Yes!" she hissed. "And when I find the person responsible..."
"But," Franklin contradicted. "I saw your car this morning. It seemed perfectly fine."
Briggs' eyes narrowed. "That's because they sprayed it with glow in the dark spray! It's just fine during the day, but at night? It's a moving neon vegas sign!"
Franklin tried not to chuckle. "Oh. I see."
"And that's not all!" she shouted again. She reached into her purse. "I found this on my windshield." She handed Principal Franklin the item in her pocket. It was a playing card, a joker with two faces. "It's himagain."
"So it seems," he stated.
"Well! Aren't you going to do something about it?" she complained.
Franklin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Francine. I can't punish any students without any official evidence to convict them."
"Then just punish them all!"
"I can't do that. The Twin Joker is just one student out of hundreds. It wouldn't be fair. But don't worry. We'll find out who did this. I"m sure of it." He began to walk away, towards his office.
"But wait! Ted! What about my car!" she called back, to no avail. Having been defeated, she stormed off the other way, staring down students as they parted like the red sea to avoid her gaze. Franklin walked past a very amused Sam and Freddie.
"Morning Sam, Freddie."
"Morning," Freddie said, the grin on his face unmissable.
Sam felt her entire body tense with excitement. She grabbed Freddie by the arm, practically leaping into the air. "Dude! Can you believe somebody actually spray painted Ms. Briggs' car?"
Freddie smirked. "I know. What kind of devious mastermind would come up with such a thing?" His voice raised in pitch as his smirk turned into a full on smile.
Sam examined his face. "No." Freddie shrugged. "You painted Briggs' car?"
He raised his eyebrows. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Sam laughed, unable to keep in her enthusiasm. "Why?"
Freddie looked at her with a perplexed expression. "What do you mean, why? It was your idea."
Sam's smile finally began to soften. "My idea?"
Freddie inhaled, as Sam tensed up once more. "Okay, what's up?"
"What...n-nothing's...up..." Sam tried to say. Her breath was beginning to become shallow. What was wrong with her? This whole world made her head foggy. She couldn't lie like she normally could. It was almost supernatural.
Freddie crossed his arms. "First you look surprised when I kiss you, then you practically chew my face off like we haven't seen each other in weeks, then you ask me if we're together and now you can't remember spray painting Ms. Briggs' car?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Are you going through a phase? Do you need some fried chicken?"
"You have fried chicken?" Sam exclaimed. With all the commotion, she had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning.
"What's wrong?" he asked, seriously.
Sam sighed. "Okay. I don't exactly know what's going on." she tried to explain. "Last night I came home and my mom was being...well, herself, and so I left to go beat stuff up with my bat."
"...uh huh..."
"So I'm swingin' and I find the old TV that we bludgeoned like years ago. So I was all, well great I'll just hit that. Except it was raining outside and when I hit it the thing shocked me-"
"You got electrocuted?" Freddie asked, concerned.
"Kinda."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. But..." she looked around, unsure of what to say. She couldn't tell him the truth, could she? "I'm having trouble...processing..."
"You think you might have amnesia?"
Sam stopped. Amnesia? The world she fell into would never come true in a million years. It wasn't likely she just 'forgot' half of her life. However, if she told him the truth, he would just think she was a loon. "Maybe."
Freddie bit his lip. "Aw man. That's awful."
"So, uh..." Sam scratched the back of her neck. "You don't mind...filling me in on what's been going on around here?"
"Yeah, totally. Totally." He took a step away from her. "I'm so sorry. I must have come off as a major creeper. Do you..." He placed his arms at his side, as though he were stiff as a board. "Remember me? Like at all?"
Sam cocked an eyebrow. "Benson, your mug has been engrained into my head since the first time I saw it."
"Oh, good."
"And anyway," Sam continued. "It's not so much the people I don't remember it's...everything around them."
"I get it. So it's like...you remember me, but you don't remember I'm your boyfriend."
"S-sorta?" Sam tried to hide the churning of her stomach. The word boyfriend seemed so foreign to her now.
"Alright, selective amnesia. That makes sense."
"Sure." If it got her this far, she would roll with it.
"Then you probably want to see this," he said, reaching into his pack and pulling out his laptop. On screen was an image of Ms. Briggs' garage. The woman pulled in, her honda looking fairly normal.
"You rigged her house?"
Freddie laughed. "Just the garage. I only had time to set up one camera, but it got pretty good coverage so I'm happy with it."
"Nice work, Freddison."
"You wanted to get back at Briggs for humiliating Gibby in class. You suggested spray paint, but I thought that might be too dangerous. So we decided on glow and the dark spray paint. That way she could only really see it at night. Psychological and physical. The best kind of prank."
"And you did the whole car?"
"Everything but the windows and the lights. It's even less noticeable that way."
Sam smiled. "I always knew you were an evil genius."
"Well, there's a reason why it's a double joker," he pulled out one of the cards and handed it to Sam. "But I doubt Briggs or Howard would ever make the connection."
"So..." Sam leaned further in. "You and me. We're like, famous?"
"In a sense." Ms. Briggs began to leave the garage on the monitor. "Oh! She's about to leave." The light in the garage suddenly turned off, revealing a glowing yellow car. The teacher nearly fell over when she saw it and began screaming.
Sam chuckled as she rested her head on Freddie's shoulder. "I like this," she said, partially to herself. "I like this a lot." Out of the corner of her eye, Sam saw Briggs coming from around the corner. "Briggs!" she whispered as Freddie shut the laptop quickly, putting it back in his backpack. Sam went back to her locker, focusing on putting in the combination. Ms. Briggs walked by in a huff, barely acknowledging their existence. As soon as the coast was clear, both Freddie and Sam were no longer able to hold in their laughter.
"And that," Freddie said leaning against the lockers. "Is how it is done."
Sam tried to open her locker, failing as usual. "Ugh! Where's a hammer when you need one?"
"Why do you need a hammer?"
"Cause!" Sam tried to pry at the locker "I can't get my stupid locker open!"
Freddie stared at her. "Sam."
"What?" she spat, annoyed.
"That's not your locker."
Sam stepped away. The look on her face said it all. "Yes it is." She looked at the locker. "This has always been my locker."
Freddie shook his head as he grabbed her hand. "Come on. I think you're going to like this." Sam followed, curiously. She had stopped asking questions. Wherever she was, she was happy to be there.
Freddie led Sam around the corner and down a hallway adjacent to the one they were originally in. She always passed that hall to get to the locker room for gym class, so she was familiar with the area. She couldn't help but feel her blood rush from the sensation of Freddie's hand in hers. It was different than before, gentle and loving. She couldn't stand it, but she didn't want it to stop either. She sighed. All that time she thought it was over. Them, everything they had together, washed away in the current. There was just the facade now, as though their time had never come. But here it was back. Everything was back and Sam didn't know what to do.
Freddie stopped in front of a large wall next to a window. Sam's eyes bulged. The locker before them was huge, twice the size of a regular locker. She looked at Freddie, who had a large goofy grin on his face. Her eyes went back to the locker, shocked.
"Locker 239..." she whispered, unable to hide her paralyzed tone.
"You remember."
"Wait," she turned back to him. "We still have locker 239."
He smiled. "Uh huh."
"My mom didn't drive through the wall and destroy it?" Sam half stated, half asked.
Freddie laughed. "N-no I don't believe that ever happened." He walked over to the locker, putting in the combination. "Check this out," he said, opening it. Inside, there was a microwave oven, shelves for books and a mini-fridge.
Sam's mouth began to water. "Whoa! You have a whole kitchen in there! Why didn't I think of that?"
Freddie shrugged. "I don't know. You're always hungry during the day. I figured this would be easier than constantly purchasing food out of the snack machine." He grinned. "And look!" he opened a small compartment at the bottom of the locker. Inside, were bunches of small pink cakes wrapped up in plastic wraps.
"Oh my god!" Sam exclaimed. Fat cakes! She couldn't take it. She dove for the morsels, unwrapping one with her teeth before devouring it. "Aww yeah...oh man..." she said, orgasmically. She felt the sugar dissolve on her tongue. "That's the stuff..." She collapsed on the floor, her hair sprawling out like petals. "Mmm. I love fat cakes."
Freddie looked at her, amused. "Me too."
Sam sat up, swallowing the rest of her snack. "You do?"
"Yeah. Well," Freddie thought for a minute, leaning on the locker with one foot propped against it. "I never used to like them because they were too sweet and fatty. For me, anyway. But they kind of saved my life so, you know, I can't help but love them."
Sam stood up, stuffing the wrapper in her pocket. She would lick the sugar off the bag later. "Fat cakes are the world's saving grace..." she finally said.
Freddie moved closer. "Can't argue with a girl with pink on her lips."
Sam brought her finger to the side of her face, scraping off the fat cake residue. She looked at it and lifted her eyebrows. "Leftovers." She licked the gunk off of her finger and gave a satisfied smile. Freddie shook his head. "What?"
"You're loony."
Sam scoffed. "I'm passionate."
"Passionately loony..." He brushed back more of Sam's hair, looking at her intently. His stare cut through her as all of Sam's memories washed up back into view.
"Are you gonna kiss me again?" she asked, bluntly.
He recoiled slightly. "Not if you don't want me to."
"That depends..." she smirked. "Do you like the taste of fat cakes?"
He leaned in closer, allowing Sam to wrap her arms around his neck. "I'm getting used to it."
She flashed a smile as his lips met hers once more. This was a dream. A fantastic dream that could only exist within the construct of Sam's mind. Perhaps, she thought, that was why she was able to accept it so easily. It was the kind of dream she never wanted to wake up from. The kind where the second it disappeared, the memory of it would be nothing but a nightmare.
Freddie suddenly pulled away, his body stiff. "Oh no."
"What?" Sam asked, turning around.
"My mom."
Sam groaned. "She's here? Now?" Maybe it was already a nightmare.
Freddie wheezed, panicking. He grabbed Sam by the arm and pulled her over towards the locker, out of view of the window. "Listen, you have to go."
"What? No way!" She smiled. "I wanna see what mommy has to bring her wittle boy today-"
"Not funny, Puckett!" he snapped. "If she sees you, that's it."
"I can handle your mother," Sam jeered.
"I know but..." he bit his lip. "Please just go to class? I don't want to have to take another cootie bath."
Sam snickered. "Cootie bath?"
"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" he begged. "Please?"
Sam rolled her eyes. "Fine."
"Thank you."
Sam walked as fast as she could down the other hallway, duking behind students. Mrs. Benson marched onto the scene with the ferocity of a thousand troupes headed to battle. The stern look on her face was redder than the dye in her hair. When she turned the corner into the hall where locker 239 was, Sam followed curiously.
Mrs. Benson approached her son, her arms crossed and her eyebrows furrowed. Freddie shut his locker and looked at his mother. "Sup?"
"Freddie, you forgot your prescription." She handed him a small white bag. She leaned in closer. "For your-"
"I know what it's for," Freddie said bluntly, taking the bag and putting it in his backpack.
Mrs. Benson looked at his hair and sighed. "Oh, Freddie. Did you even brush your hair this morning?" She pulled a brush out of her purse and began brushing through Freddie's hair.
"Mom! It's fine! Mom! Stop it!" he whispered trying to move away. "It looks fine."
"It looks like someone ruffled it with a balloon!' she retorted. Freddie gave in and let his mother finish brushing his hair. After it was over, she smiled contently. "There. Nice and smooth."
"Thanks. I'm gonna go, so-"
"Freddie," she stopped him. "We need to have a discussion," Mrs. Benson stated.
Freddie groaned. "Can't we do it later?"
"I made a few...arrangements."
Freddie examined his mother's expression. Sam tried to hide her smile. This was gonna be good. "Arrangements? What do you mean by arrangements?"
"Well," Mrs. Benson began. "I was at my Bridge club..."
"I'm not 'entertaining' any more birthday parties."
Mrs. Benson shook her head. "No, no. Nothing like that." She sighed. "I was talking to Gertrude and she says that Molly says that Leslie says that her daughter Jane just broke up with her-"
"No."
"Let me finish!" Mrs. Benson pleaded.
"I'm not going on another blind date."
"But Gertrude said that she would tell Molly to tell Leslie-"
"Ugh," Freddie began to walk away. "I'm late for class. Can we please talk about this some other time?"
"All I said was to tell her you were available!"
Freddie spun around. "Why?"
"Because you are!"
"No! I'm not!" Freddie shouted. "I'm dating S-"
"Don't you start with me!" Mrs. Benson snapped. "Do you know how long it took for a girl to even look at you?" Freddie rolled his eyes. "This may finally be your chance to meet someone nice."
"Sam is nice!"
"Ha!"
"If you just took the chance to get to know her..."
Mrs. Benson paced about the hall. "Oh, I know enough. You're going to throw away your future all for that...that...bulldozer!"
"Mom!"
"I'm not going to sit here and wait for her to run you over," she fumed. "You are to stay away from that girl."
"You're being completely unreasonable!"
"You're going out with Janet." She stated.
"No, I'm not."
"It's all arranged."
Freddie shook his head. "You said you just told her I was available!"
"Well, maybe I thought you would be interested!" she screamed back. "Once you thought there was someone else out there who could love you!"
"Do you really think I'm that unlovable?" Freddie spat. Sam watched from a distance as Freddie's voice started to crack. There was a long silence as tension filled the air. A similar pain in her heart came rushing back, a pain from that word. Unlovable. "Whatever." He began to walk away again.
Mrs. Benson walked after him. Sam ducked further behind the lockers so she wouldn't be seen. "Freddie! Please! I already made arrangements for tomorrow evening!"
"Cancel them!"
"And tell Leslie what?"
"That I have a previous engagement!"
"What could you possibly be doing?"
He spun around. "Um, the dance?"
Freddie's mother's face fell. "But school dances are so dangerous, Freddie!" she pleaded. "You could trip or fall on a puddle of punch and it's so dark you can't see anything."
"I don't care. I'm going."
"And if I say no?"
"It doesn't matter what you say."
Mrs. Benson bit her lip. "Don't talk to me that way. I am your mother and you will listen to me. You're going out with Janet tomorrow."
Freddie stared at her, not moving. "No."
"Fredward!"
"I am going to the dance with my girlfriend tomorrow. End of discussion."
"But Freddie!"
"End of discussion!"
With that, he held tightly to his backpack and walked out of the hall. "Now I really am late for class," he muttered. He paraded past Sam, not even noticing she was there he was so upset. His mother came trailing behind, calling after him, begging him to reconsider. Sam smiled, content with the outcome. Freddie's mother was always a freak of nature. Sam never let it get to her, not even when she and Freddie were dating. He stood up for her then like he stood up for her now.
Sam heard the final bell and sat up. She was going to be late for class. She shook her head. Late for class? Since when do I care if I'm late for class? She sighed. Maybe Carly was starting to engrain into her. She looked around. Carly. Where the heck was she? Sam stood up and began walking to her classroom, only to realize that in this dream, she had no idea where she was supposed to go. Everything else had changed, maybe her classes had too. She went to the main hallway to see if Principal Franklin knew. On her way there, she passed by the Honor Roll posting. She wondered if Carly was still number 10 on the board. However, when she approached the paper, she didn't see Carly's name. What she did see was much more shocking.
6. Sam Puckett- Honor Roll - 4.0
Sam slapped herself in the head. She stuck out her tongue, felt her forehead, pinched herself, but nothing happened. She looked back at her name. It was really there. She was on the list. Her stomach began to churn. What was this place? Was it really just a dream she couldn't wake herself up from or had life really changed completely overnight? Okay Dorothy...she thought. Go grab your mutt and get your pigtails back to Kansas.
She stared at her name in utter bewilderment.
Cause you're sure over the rainbow now.