From: Sam (9:45):

Ya know you were like the smallest kid ever. Like what was wrong with you. Did you not eat your Wheaties or something?

Freddie looked down at the new message on his PearPhone and chuckled to himself. He leaned on his locker and typed out a quick reply.

To: Sam (9:48):

Shut up, I was a late bloomer.

Should I bring up how you wore boy's clothes until you were like 12?

What was wrong with you?

"Well what are you smilin' about, Benson?"

Freddie looked up to see Gibby sauntering over to him.

"Have another fun night with Wendy?" Gibby wiggled his eyebrows.

Freddie rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh. He turned to his locker and started working on the lock combination. "Not exactly."

Gibby laughed and took his backpack off his shoulders. "You're kidding me," he said as he turned to the locker beside Freddie's. "Freddie Benson, struck out?"

Freddie's locker popped open and he started to push his AP Chemistry book that he was holding back onto one of the shelves. "No, not exactly that either."

Freddie felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and he took it out to read the message.

From: Sam (9:53):

Nobody rocked those Bermuda shorts like I did, Benson. Don't even try to say anything about that.

Freddie smirked.

To: Sam (9:55):

You're right Sam. How could I forget? Your milkshake brought all the boys to the yard.

Freddie shoved his phone back in his pocket and reached for his AP Lit book and composition notebook. He whistled a little tune that had been stuck in his head all morning as he shut his locker door. He didn't even realize Gibby had been staring at him until he looked up and saw his open mouth.

"Seriously dude, what the hell is up with you? I haven't seen you act this way in months."

Freddie laughed and rolled his eyes. "Gibby, nothing is up with me. I just woke up in a good mood. I am allowed to have good moods, you know."

Freddie walked past Gibby, picking up the tune where he left off.

Gibby quickly jumped back in front of him and put his hand on Freddie's shoulder. "No," Gibby said slowly, "you are not allowed to have good moods. You have two moods: sarcastic witty sassmaster or pretentious dick. Those are the two categories you fall in ever since-."

"Ugh!" Freddie scoffed, "Uh, damn Gib, thanks. It's always lovely to hear what my friends think of me."

Gibby smirked. "Now there's the Freddie we all know and love."

"Whatever," Freddie rolled his eyes and moved to walk past him.

Gibby stopped him again. "Okay, let's not get too carried away and say you're in a good mood because that would be way too damn joyful for a cool guy like you, but something obviously happened."

Freddie scowled at him, but all Gibby did was cross his arms.

"Okay, well if you must know," Freddie gave a little laugh and rubbed at his neck, "Sam's texting me again."

Gibby's eyes widened.

"Wow," he laughed. "Damn, that was not what I was expecting."

He barked out another laugh at clapped Freddie on the back. They both started walking towards their next classes. "See, you're friends again! Crisis averted."

Freddie looked down. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know, I guess it was kind of fourteen year old girl of me to think that she would never text me again-,"

"Yeah, it was," Gibby interjected.

Freddie shot him a glare.

Gibby raised his hands in defense. "Listen, you guys have been friends for forever. She's like your sister. And you practically fought with each other more than you guys talked, but you always made up. I don't know why you thought this would be any different."

Freddie looked down again. Gibby did have a point, but some deep part of Freddie knew that this whole running away in the middle of the night and not talking to him for five months act was something more than their usual petty bickering.

And something definitely bristled in him when Gibby referred to Sam as his sister.

Yeah, not quite.

From: Sam (10:02):

Wow holy shit lol I cannot believe you just said that. You're such a nub

"Come on, Juliet, we're going to be late to class," Gibby said clapping Freddie on the back.

Freddie shook his head and pointedly ignored the nickname. He waited as Gibby slung his backpack over his shoulder and sent a quick text back to Sam.

To: Sam (10:04):

The nubbiest ;)

"Ya know, I am kind of surprised though."

"Hmm?" Freddie hummed still looking at his phone.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, it is cool that you guys are talking again, don't get me wrong, but…I don't know, I would have been more mad then anything else."

Freddie looked up at Gibby as they started walking to their next class.

"What do you mean?"

Gibby huffed out a laugh.

"I mean, I knew you guys were going to make up, cause you always do, but I figured there would be more of a fight. It just shows that you're a better man then me, Benson. Cause if I were in your position, I wouldn't have been worried. I would have been pissed. Like, she didn't even say goodbye. Hell, I was a little put-off that she didn't say anything to me. And we've only been friends for a couple of years. Oh well, it's good to know she's alive. Say hi for me, okay? See ya."

With that, Gibby punched Freddie in the arm and walked down the hallway. Freddie blinked and turned after him.

"Yeah," Freddie replied finally, but Gibby was already gone.

As soon as the bell rang for the end of the day, Freddie took off like a rocket. He stopped at his locket only momentarily to grab some books he needed for homework and took off out the door.

He could have probably taken a bus to The Groovy Smoothie, but opted to walk the 8 blocks instead. He had a phone call to make.

He punched her name and then put the phone to his ear.

Ring.

Ring.

She better answer.

Ring.

Ri-

"You better be on fire. You must be on fire, or one of your arms fell off. That should be the only reason you are calling me at 1:30 in the morning."

Carly sounded grumpy and tired. Not a good combination for her.

"Oh, yeah. Time difference, right. Okay, I'll be quick. Why did Sam leave? Why did she leave and why didn't she tell me goodbye?"

Carly was silent on the phone. Freddie was too worked up to care. He was antsy and leave it to damn Gibby to make him think. He heard her sigh and then some rustling as she sat up in her bed.

"Ookay, this sounds it might be a serious convo," she mumbled back.

Freddie huffed out a laugh, "Yeah, well. I don't know. I just need…I just want you to tell me…-I really don't know."

"I'm guessing this has something to do with her talking to you again?" Carly asked.

"You would be guessing correctly." Freddie jogged across an intersection. "She told you?"

"Hmm…she might have mentioned it in an email," Carly said slowly.

Freddie rolled his eyes. He guessed Carly probably played a large part in getting Sam to talk to him again. He looked down at his watch as he picked up his pace.

He was going to be late for work. Oh, well.

"If you're asking me why she didn't say goodbye, then I'm sorry to say I don't have an answer. She didn't say goodbye to me either. You know that." Carly said.

The sympathy she sprinkled into her tone did not go unnoticed. Freddie sighed in frustration, but kept his voice steady. He knew he shouldn't direct his anger at her.

"No, I mean I know. But it was different. You said goodbye first. She probably didn't say anything to you because she knew you were leaving too. But she knew I would be expecting her. She knew I would know and care and-…I'm her friend, too! She should have—she should have said something!"

Freddie awkwardly coughed when he realized he was yelling at the stop-light surrounded by strangers who were all giving him dirty looks. When he spoke again he lowered his voice.

"She had to have known it would have hur-…er, affected me. And then she didn't talk to me for three months. Seriously, what the hell is up with that?"

Freddie started walking again and waited for Carly to give him some, any sort of answer. All he heard was her sigh again.

"Freddie, you know I wish I could tell you. And you're right; it is different. We also both know, that most of the time we have no idea what Sam is thinking-,"

"But that's the thing!" Freddie interjected. "I-."

He cut off the words before they could escape his mouth.

I do. I do know how Sam thinks. I spent the better half of the past five years psychoanalyzing that girl inside and out.

He couldn't tell Carly that, though. Carly is her best friend. He couldn't explain to her how he thought Sam was an enigma that he spent almost his entire high school career trying to crack. Because she was fascinating to him.

But for reasons even he could not decipher he couldn't admit that to himself and especially not to Carly.

"I just…I don't know…I don't know anything," he laughed. "But that's why I'm asking you."

Freddie kept walking with his head down, waiting for Carly to reply. After a minute of silence and faint clicking noises, she finally replied.

"Well, I'm looking through our old emails. Like the ones I sent her after I found out she left and—oh, wow. I was really angry," Carly laughed softly, "but the only answer she ever really gave me was, 'I needed to get out'. More specifically she said, 'Seattle is boring and awful and it rains all the damn time. Plus, there's not exactly a lot keeping me there. Mama's gotta go out and explore. That's kind of what everyone expected me to do, right?'"

Carly paused and Freddie took in this new information. He scowled thinking about all of the things that should have kept her here. Spencer. School. Gibby. Her mom.

Me.

"And," Carly continued, "that's pretty much it. I never got a straight answer out of her that didn't involve the words 'lone wolf' and lyrics to some Bon Jovi song."

Freddie sighed.

"I'm sorry, Freddie…I know you expected me to have all the answers, but I don't. Whatever made Sam run off in the middle of the night is obviously something she wants to keep to herself and it may be something that we never figure out."

She paused.

"Maybe…" she trailed off.

"What?" Freddie asked when she didn't continue.

"I mean…did you say something to her before she left? Like, did she run into you on the elevator and you guys had one of your little fights…?"

Freddie blinked once. And then again.

"Carly, are you insinuating that I drove her off?"

"No!" Carly quickly exclaimed. "No, that's not it at all, I just know how you two are. And I'm not saying it's your fault, in fact Sam probably started it, but I know how those fights get pretty heated pretty quickly, especially when I'm not around to-."

"No," Freddie cut her off, "I didn't do anything to her. I didn't say anything to her, I didn't even see her! I was actually waiting to talk to her because I knew I would have to do some damage control after you decided to take off to Italy and leave us here!"

Freddie knew he was yelling again, but this time he didn't care. He breathed heavily into the phone. He doesn't remember a time when he yelled at Carly, but he doesn't care about that either. He's so mad, so mad. At Sam. And at Carly.

It may be irrational, yes. But they did leave him. And yes, he's hurt. Even though he's tried so hard for the past three months to hide it.

He could tell he shocked Carly into silence because for the next couple of seconds all he could hear was her sharp intake of breath and then her sputtering out his name.

"Freddie…Freddie—I…are you-?"

Freddie scowled and looked up at The Groovy Smoothie.

"Look, Carly. I'm at work, I gotta go. I'll…I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"No, Freddie. We need to talk about this, I had no idea that you felt that way about me leaving, and with Sam gone too, it had to have been hard-,"

Freddie laughed humorlessly, "Carly I can't tell you how much I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Freddie…" Carly's voice broke a little as she said his name and guilt suddenly filled Freddie.

He rubbed his hand on his face and sighed. "Hey, it's really late for you. Get some sleep, I'll call you back tonight. Promise."

"O-okay," she stuttered.

"Bye, Carls. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Freddie."

Freddie hung up, slipped his phone into his pocket, and then walked into The Groovy Smoothie.

"If I see…either one of you with a crayon in your hand, or anywhere near the walls," Sam threw her arm out and pointed to one of the walls which was covered in markings, "I will take those crayons and shove them up your nose so far…you will only see in blue and green."

The boy and girl both gasped simultaneously.

"Do I make myself clear?" she growled at them.

Chyna nodded and threw her little hands up to cover her nose.

"Jake?" Sam snapped.

"Y-yeah."

"Yeah, what?"

"Yeah, ma'am."

The sounds of ducks quacking filled the room.

Sam narrowed her eyes at the children, "Don't. Move."

Sam walked to the kitchen to where she had left her phone. She picked it up and saw Carly Shay blinking across the screen. She huffed out a sigh as she raised the phone to her ear.

"Carly, what did I say about long-distance-,"

"Sam, shut up about the stupid long-distance rates, I'll send you ten bucks in the mail," Carly snapped through the phone.

Sam could hear her crying and immediately all of her frustration disappeared.

"Carls? What's wrong?"

Sam waited for Carly to compose herself.

"Do…do you hate me?" she sobbed.

Sam's eyebrows scrunched together.

"Cary, what happened?" Sam asked slowly.

"I just got off the phone with Freddie," Carly sniffled through the phone, "and he just, I don't know, opened my eyes to some things."

Sam's heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit-

"Listen Carly, please stop crying. Jesus Christ, I had no idea he-…listen, if I had known that he knew I saw you guys-," Sam struggled to get her words out.

She didn't know what to say, she felt like she had swallowed hundreds of heavy stones and she was just going to drop through the floor. She couldn't believe he knew. How did he know?

She thought if he knew that she saw them kissing before Carly left, did he also know the reason she left, too? And why did he wait to tell Carly now, after three months?

Sam took a deep breath and then sighed into the phone.

"Listen, what I'm trying to say is no, I could never hate you. And no, I don't blame you for anything. I could never. It's just…ugh!" Sam groaned. I seriously can't believe we're having this conversation right now. "It was just hard for me to see, you know? Like, I get it. I totally do. You were leaving, and he has been in love with you for like, ever, and you like had that weird time when you guys dated, and-,"

"Sam," Carly hiccuped, "what are you-?"

"No," Sam breathed, "let me finish. It's just…at that time, I might have held on to…some residual after shocks of feelings from our short lived relationship."

Sam rushed to finish that sentence and then felt herself get physically sick from admitting that.

"But that is not the only reason I left. Jesus Christ, I'm not some soap opera, love-stricken tragic girl who runs away because of some stupid guy. Its just seeing Freddie kiss you-,"

"Sam. What. The. Fuck are you talking about?"

Carly had stopped crying now. And had said the word "fuck". She never said fuck…

"I-..I," Sam hesitated. "Didn't Freddie tell you that he knew I saw…"

Sam trailed off. This is not good. Definitely not good.

"Sam. Sam. What did you see? What are you talking about?"

Fuck. Great, fucking awesome. Sam could have literally stabbed herself right then. She quickly started coming up with excuses to get the fuck off of the phone and get the fuck away from this conversation.

"And don't you dare hang up this phone, Sam Puckett. Now tell me what were you talking about."

Carly's pitiful whimpering was gone, and her voice took on a militant and dangerous tone.

Sam sighed. There was really no way around this.

"The night before you left, ya know, before Italy…?"

"Yes…?"

"Well, I was coming to find you and I…I went up…shit," Sam cursed. Getting this out will be harder than she thought.

"Sam, will you please stop beating around the bush and just say it?!"

"Fine," Sam groaned, "I went up stairs to find you, to tell your ass goodbye, and what do I see? You and Freddie swapping fucking spit in the studio. And yes, that's why I thought you were afraid I hated you because I thought Freddie somehow figured out that I saw you guys together, and then split. So yes, that's why I was trying to calm you down to tell you that, no, I'm not upset with you for stabbing me in the back and making out with my ex, when you knew that things between us were still unresolved.

"And, ya know what? Fuck all of that because I actually am still upset! And I have every goddamn right to be! Because you hurt me. And he hurt me. And surprise: I left. Just like you did. And no, I didn't tell anyone. And yes, it was on an emotional whim, but honestly? I'm fucking glad I did it. I'm having the time of my life. I can finally be free from that sick twisted love triangle of a friendship we had going on because Freddie is a total fucking nub and I can not believe he has had this much effect on our lives. So, there. Are you happy?"

Sam was heaving into the phone, out of breath and strained from her rant.

"Sam-uh, Sam…I-…" Carly stuttered, obviously clueless as what to say next.

Sam had actually shocked her into silence.

Sam huffed out a bitter laugh.

"You know what, don't worry about it. I'll get over it, I always do. It's no big deal."

Sam heard yelling from the living room.

"I have to go, I'll talk to you later."

Sam hung up the phone before Carly had the chance to stop her. She closed her eyes and took a couple of breaths before she went back into the living room.

"Sam! Sam! Jake took my cwayons," Chyna pouted, tears falling down her chubby cheeks.

"But they were mine!" Jake yelled, "I had them first!"

"But that's not fair-yuh! I was using it!"

Sam reached down and took the three crayons Jake was holding in his hands.

"Hey!" he yelled indignantly.

Sam held onto each end of the crayons and then snapped them in half, and threw them over her shoulder.

"Yeah, well, it looks like none of you get the crayons now. Now shut up, and learn to be nice to each other or I'm coming for your stuffed animals next."

They both looked at her with wide eyes and vigorously shook their heads up and down. They ran behind the couch where their stuffed animals lay, and started quietly playing with them.

Sam sat down on the couch, and listened to them while she tried to slow down her heart rate.

A/N: Back again! Here's another chapter!

I'm sorry it took so long to update, and sorry for this crap ton of angst I threw to y'all. I promise it will get more shippy :)

Please review!

Love,

Lucy