Sam's POV

It was a mistake. A terrible mistake. I shouldn't have kissed him. I must've been out of my mind!

"Have I lost my mind?" I asked the psychiatrist. "I mean, I used to hate that dork like he was a fly on my sandwich, but I just kissed him last week."

"Calm down, Samantha," she smiled.

Usually, I would flare up and threaten to kill whoever calls me 'Samantha', but this time, it's special. Or I've really lost my mind.

"Everything is okay," she comforted me. "This is normal. You're going through a change and it's a natural process in your teenage years."

"Really?" I asked. "Are you sure? But it's all so... sudden..."

"Love comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Yours just happens to be unpredictable," she smiled. "But I believe it's only unexpected from your point of view. If you ask your friends, I'm sure they will agree with me."

I frowned. "But what if I've really lost my mind? I'm still not sure about this..."

"Okay," she wrote on a piece of paper with some kind of matrix. "What if I put you under observation? I'll get you a room and we can observe you and see if you are really 'losing it' or you're just fine."

"I guess that works for me," as I leaned into my chair, my phone rang.

I quickly retrieved it from my pocket and placed it next to my ear. "Sam? Where are you?"

"Carls?" I lied. "Oh, I'm in a... a hotel."

"What are you doing at a hotel?" she seemed mad.

"I'll be staying here for the next few days," I replied while trying to avoid her question.

I could visualise her frowning into the phone. "Why?"

"Ms. Puckett," the psychiatrist stated, "Would you mind using one of the Troubled Waters observation rooms? Our clinic has run out of rooms."

Thanks to her, Carly soon found out the truth. "Sam! Who was that? Why are you under psychiatric observation? What happened?"

"Erm... Carly..." I stuttered. "Let's meet at Troubled Waters Mental Hospital. I'll explain everything to you."

After being admitted to the mental hospital, I texted Carly my room number.

Great, room 239. Like I don't have enough to deal with.

"What happened?" Carly asked, anxious. "Why are you in a mental hospital?"

"Carls, relax," I sat down on my new bed. "I'm just under observation, that's all."

"But why do you need to be under observation? What did you do?" she was worried.

I sighed. "Remember that night... At the lock-in?"

She nodded.

"I... Freddie... I kissed him," I mumbled audibly.

"I know," she smiled.

"You know about it?"

She nodded. "I saw it."

"You WHAT?"

She giggled and started to sing. "Sam and Freddie sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Carly!" I tried to stop her by placing my hand over her mouth, but it didn't work.

"Sam loves Freddie! Sam loves Freddie!" she repeated and pushed me away.

I sat back down on the bed. "I don't love him! Well, at least I'm not so sure yet."

"How can you not be sure? You kissed him!" she folded her arms.

"Exactly!" I explained. "If I hadn't lost my mind, I wouldn't have done something so stupid. That's why I'm here, to find out if I've really gone bonkers."

Carly's phone beeped a little message tone. "It's Ashton."

I nodded as she read the text out loud.

"Hi honey," she started. "Where are you? I thought we were going to catch a movie or something?"

"Somebody's late for a little something with somebody's boyfriend..." I teased.

"Well, I guess I've got to go," she smiled. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

I smirked. "As long as I am fed every two hours, I'll be fine."

Well, unless if Fredweird comes along and spoils everything, I'll be alright.

Just as I was happily painting my picture of a lady killing a man – like the therapist ordered; she did say 'paint your feelings' – guess who appeared.

"Sam! I heard you checked in to a mental hospital." Yup, you guessed it. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, it's you," I rolled my eyes. "What are you doing here, Fredwad?"

"Erm... I came here to talk to you?" he smiled. "Carly texted me to take care of you."

I put down my paintbrush and pushed away the easel. "I don't need anyone to take care of me. I'm fine by myself. Besides, it's a mental hospital. There would be many nurses walking along those corridors outside. Even if I were to die here, someone would know."

"Sam..." he tried to convince me. "Can we talk about the kiss?"

"Get out," I said calmly.

He pleaded. "We need to settle this."

"No we don't," I was starting to get fired up for a big fight. "And there's no 'we' in this. There's only me and you. Individually."

"Sam..." he started.

"Get out," I ordered.

He stared at me and I glared back.

"Aren't you afraid of waking up in a pool of blood?" I threatened.

"Ever since you kissed me, I knew I was immune to your threats," he sighed. "I know you think that it's not going to work out. Even though Carly didn't tell me why you've checked yourself into this place, but I am just going to assume that it's because of me."

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Benson," I frowned.

He smirked. "But yours does."

My eyes darted somewhere else, avoiding his gaze. "No it doesn't."

"There's no use denying it. Come on, let's get out of here."

He dragged me out of my observation room. To think I paid so much to get a room in here. Well, it wasn't all my money, but I fought hard to get it!

"What are you doing? Let me go!" I struggled out of his grasp. When did he get so strong? "You're going to get it from me once I get out of this!"

"Then I'm never letting go," he grinned.

Ugh... I knew this day would come. Once the dork knows about my little secret, he would climb all over me and use it to tease me.

"Where are we going?" I ran along with him through the corridors and hallways.

He brought me to a dead end where it was dark and dirty. All I could see was the sky and a little hint of his hair. My hand was still tightly clasped within his and I could feel his breath on me.

"What do you want to say?" I could hear his panting.

"Can we give the dating thing a try?" he asked.

"What?"

He rephrased his words. "I want to give the dating thing a try."

"Why?" I was curious. Why would he want anything to do with me? "I don't need your sympathy."

"It's not sympathy," he explained. "I'm just... not sure about what I'm feeling. So, I need to test it out."

"What if I don't want to test it out?" I pushed his hand away from mine.

He let out a laugh. "Don't you want to know if I feel the same way for you?"

I was silent. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't even sure I wanted to know at all. But all I could do was try it out, then wait and see. "What can I gain from this?"

"If it all works out, you'll get yourself a boyfriend and free meals," I could feel him smirk.

"And if it doesn't?" I asked.

"If it doesn't, at least we can all go back to being friends again," he replied.

I laughed. "Yeah, right. As if we can just shake it off and forget everything just like that."

"I didn't say anything about forgetting," he said.

"Who cares what you say, Benson?" I teased. "And stop breathing on me. It's really warm here."

"I'm not breathing on you," he denied. "I'm about two metres away from you already."

I grew scared. "Then... who's behind me?"

A pair of filthy hands grabbed me from behind. I struggled and yelled for help.

"Freddie!" it was all dark.

"Sam!"