Okay, wow, hello. The first and most important thing I must do is say thank you to anyone who is actually reading this. I'm aware it's pretty much been eons since I've updated, so for those of you (if there's anyone) who are reading this, THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU AND I WILL HUG YOU FOREVER!

Next I must apologize. This is, perhaps, the busiest time of my life ever, and on top of the normal busy stuff, I was sick for a long time (I'm better now, luckily) and I also had some family stuff to deal with. That being said, I finally got my lazy and now healthy butt to working, and wrote this chapter.

It might not be your favorite, though I hope you at least like it, and I have some exciting ideas brewing in my mind for the future.

Chapter 21: My First Non-Date

A week had passed since my decision to give up on loving Freddie. A week. At this point I just refused to acknowledge my feelings for him, because it was entirely hopeless, and Sam Puckett doesn't do weak.

This really wasn't that bad. I'm a grown girl, and have plenty of things to fill my time. I'll always have meat, which is constantly reliable. Oh, who am I kidding? It's hard. There's little I struggle with in life, other than finding an intellectual drive (or at least that's what the school counselor said, the nub), but this was a struggle.

As hard as I tried not to think about it, the thought just kept returning to my head like an itch that won't go away, no matter how many kitchen utensils you scratch it with. Maybe it would've been easier if he and I weren't friends, and if my best friend wasn't also his close friend, and if he didn't happen to live across the hallway from said friend. Basically, it was impossible for me to get him out of my mind, and thinking of Freddie made me think of my feelings for him.

At first, I was doing pretty well with the whole staying at home pacing and silently brooding while pretending I was fine thing. In fact, I had always been great at pushing my emotions away, because as I learned when I was little, emotions are generally worthless and more trouble than they ought to be. Especially when they involve things like my family. But enough on that.

This plan was going better than I could've hoped until one day, of course, Carly sent me a text and asked if I wanted to go bowling with her. And Freddie. Now, maybe this doesn't sound like that big of a deal; after all, I'd seen him plenty of times during this past week since he was always at the Shay's. But no. This didn't turn out quite like the others had. Unfortunately.

Nearly as soon as I'd knocked on her front door, she opened it and let me in, not objecting at all when I immediately went to her couch and practically threw myself on it. Pacing can take a lot out of someone. "Long day?" I heard her ask, probably with a look of amusement on her face, but I couldn't tell since I'd buried my head under a pillow.

"Just tired this week," I mumbled into the fabric, causing her to laugh.

"Well I hope this isn't how you plan on bowling," she chuckled, sitting down near my feet and placing what sounded like a glass of some sort on the table in front of her. "Because you'll make a lousy opponent if it is."

I let out a random groan into the pillow and then tried talking into it again, "you'll have Frednub to bowl with you so I can just take a nap."

Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door and then it opened, and I knew it was him even though I was just staring at the cushion in my arms. "Who's ready to do some bowlin'?" his over-eager voice was just so annoying and nubish and cute and I really needed to stop this.

I could practically hear Carly grinning, she was so predictably bubbly and generally nice. Sam, stop being so mean. She's your best friend, and it's not her fault you currently feel nothing for Freddie. Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

"What's wrong, finally look in the mirror and decide you needed to hide from yourself?" I heard a voice above me and I threw the pillow at Freddie, narrowing my eyes.

"Oh, shut up," was all I said as I sat up, wishing I could wipe that stupid smirk off his face, though glad he was joking.

Carly cleared her throat, "okay, you two. That's enough for now; let's just go bowling." Then she hopped up from her seat, grabbing the glass and leaving it in the sink before returning to the living room.

"Hey, just because she likes to use all of her free moments to insult my mother, doesn't mean it's my fault."

"Don't flatter yourself, Benson," I rolled my eyes at him, shooting him a smug smile as I propped myself up and got off of the sofa. The problem was that I did think about him too much. It was bad. Really bad. If only he'd go away then I could maybe not be so overwhelmed with this. But I didn't actually want him to go away. Things were way too complicated. That was one thing I was certain about.

I don't remember what we talked about on the way to the bowling alley, but I'm pretty sure it just involved more bickering and Carly attempting to mediate. The easiest way to hide my feelings and confusion as to how I was going to keep them a secret seemed to be through lashing out. And I was great at lashing out at Freddie. After all, I had years of experience.

We got there after what felt like ages and got our shoes and picked a lane. I might be fine with things others aren't, like itching my back with barbecue utensils and eating food that fell on the floor (it doesn't even last there 5 seconds when I'm around), but bowling shoes have always grossed me out. Other peoples' stanky feet are rubbing off onto my probably not entirely clean feet, and it's just nasty. But even when I threatened the man behind the counter and his mother, Carly still pulled me away and forced me to calm down and wear the shoes. Sometimes I don't know if that's why we're best friends, or why I question how we got this close. Probably both.

Since Carly decided we should go in alphabetical order by first name to avoid conflict over order – even if that did mean she went first – I just shrugged and went to get some food. Can't bowl on an empty stomach, now can I? Didn't think so.

"What'd you get, Sam?" she asked pleasantly as I walked over.

"Cheese fries and a Peppy Cola. You can have one if you really want."

Her face showed her surprise at this. Normally I didn't offer, but I was feeling too lazy to protect my food right now, and Freddie wasn't around to swoop in and take some, too.

Just as she was about to say something that was probably a thank you, since she was big on those, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a buzzing cell phone. "Hold on."

Shrugging, I plopped down at the table with my food and got to eating, not paying much attention to anyone, especially not the fat old man sitting in the corner, who was definitely giving me the stink eye. I shot him a look just for good measure. You never know with old people these days.

I'd already eaten about half of the fries when someone joined me at the table. I knew who it was and didn't even bother to look up. "It's your turn."

"Can't you see I'm eating, Frednub?" I gestured to the basket in front of me.

"Yes, but-"

"No buts," I looked up finally. "Don't disturb Mama when she's eating."

"What about when Ca-"

"Carly's probably talking to the President or someone who she feels is too important to keep waiting, so it'll be forever until her turn comes. Let your underwear out of the twist they're in," I rolled my eyes.

"The phrase is pa-"

"Don't say it!" I pointed at him threateningly, a cheese fry dangling from my fingers. I hated that word. It was just so… girly.

"Okay…" he said after a pause. "It's not like I wear either of those, anyway."

"Benson, just because you go commando, doesn't mean you have to announce it. Some of us enjoy spending our eating time without such things entering our minds."

"I do not go commando! I wear boxers!"

"Said the boy who just shouted about his underwear to all of the people in the bowling alley."

"Boxers!" Then he looked around and turned somewhat red, sitting down again. "Not everyone heard."

"Whatever you want to believe, bare Benson."

"Hey, I wear boxers."

"Stop talking."

"But I-"

"Shhhhh, I'm eating. Priorities. You've gotta learn 'em."

He gave up and let out a frustrated sigh, just sitting there and crossing his arms, looking at me with an expression of annoyance that only made me eat more slowly. But not too much more slowly, because one can only delay eating so much.

After not too much longer, I forced myself to get up and throw away the empty basket and cup and then wandered over to the balls, picking up whichever one was closest and going over to the lane. I went to throw the ball, but just as I was letting go, I heard my name being called somewhat urgently.

"What?" I turned around impatiently, my whole throw messed up by whoever was yelling for me.

Carly walked over, and Freddie followed shortly, obviously curious about what was going on. "I have to go," she made a face that implied she was sorry, though I still had no idea what was happening.

"What's so important that you're abandoning me here with the nub?"

She shuffled her feet for a second. "Spencer found a box of Dad's things that he never took with him and wanted me to help him go through it."

"Oh. Do you, um, do you want help?" I wasn't very good with these sentimental moments, especially not the parent-related ones, but for Carly, I tried. She always tried for me.

"No, that's fine. He and I should just do it together. But you two stay and have fun," she looked from me to Freddie and back again. "Sorry about this."

I shrugged indifferently, though as she walked away, I had mixed feelings. Shooting Freddie a look to make it clear he should behave if he knew what was good for him, I felt really uncomfortable. Now I was alone. With Freddie. At a bowling alley. This was like some twisted form of a date. But it wasn't a date, absolutely not. Because I wasn't even going to let myself like him anymore, and he would never see this as a date.

"So…" he rocked onto his heels and I looked up at him.

"Just bowl, Benson," I rolled my eyes and sighed in annoyance, pointing to where the balls were lined.

"Someone's demanding," he reached down and grabbed a ball.

"Don't act too surprised," I leaned back against the machine

"Whatever," he muttered and walked over to the lane. But then the word repeated in my head, and I could almost feel the coldness in his voice. This shouldn't have bothered me, it really shouldn't have. But it did. It bothered me because I was forcing myself to be over Freddie, not because I had actually succeeded yet.

"Wait," he turned around and I tried to look like I hadn't been seriously thinking about his reaction. I don't think he could tell, but I was paranoid.

"What?"

"It's your turn." He walked over and handed me the ball.

"Oh yeah, I guess it is."

This was just great. I was acting odd, and he was going to figure out that I was in love with him and then he was going to make fun of me or run away or something, anything but what I wanted. So right now all I let myself want was for him to have no idea.

Grabbing the ball a bit more forcefully than necessary, I went over to the lane and threw it at the pins, managing to knock down all but one.

"Pretty good, Puckett."

"You be quiet," I shot him a mocking look, though I was involuntarily happy about the half-compliment.

The afternoon continued in pretty much the same way, and while we weren't getting along, we weren't fighting, and yet things were still weird. At least I had an excuse, but he was being weird, too, and that was only making me weirder about all of this. Was he uncomfortable that we were alone? Did he miss Carly? There were about ten things running through my mind, which is a lot more than normally do.

After several more rounds, we seemed to calm down enough to be at least kind of normal, which probably related to the fact that I was undeniably competitive sometimes, and therefore too distracted to focus on much other than beating him.

Licking my lips, I wound up and then flung the ball down the lane, staring intensely at the pins as if I was willing them to knock over. Then, before I could realize what had happened, I blinked and suddenly there were no pins there.

"Sam!" My name was being shouted again.

"Wha- what?" I turned around in confusion.

"Sam, you just got a strike! That was fantastic," the next thing I knew, Freddie was grinning at me and he raised his hand and we high fived and I was grinning too, though I'm not sure if I was happy because I'd gotten a strike or because his happiness was making me happy, but I didn't have the effort to decide.

There was a flicker of confusion in my mind about why he was so excited about it, but then I reminded myself we were close friends and he was generally a much more supportive person than I was, so it made sense. At least a little. There was no other explanation, so it had to make sense.

"You should be used to how awesome I am by now," I smirked at him, still quite happy. I barely noticed he had used my first name, though it didn't slip my mind, but he called me Sam much more often than I called him Freddie. It helped me keep making it seem like I didn't see him as anything more than a friend by association who I could use as a punching bag sometimes. That's all I was trying to let myself see him as now, but it still wasn't working.

"If I ever have to bow down to you, then I'll know the world is really ending," he rolled his eyes, though I could hear him chuckle slightly. Maybe he wasn't having a miserable time, either. Maybe we could do this friend thing, even if he was acting a bit weird.

We were standing closer again, and I bumped him with my shoulder, "watch it, Frednub." I stuck out my tongue but ended up laughing for some reason I couldn't explain.

"Maybe you're the one who should watch it, Puckett," he raised his eyebrows teasingly.

"Did you just threaten me?" there was more amusement than cruelty in my voice.

"So what if I did? Going to beat me up in the middle of a bowling alley?"

"I just might." Then, without thinking about it, I toppled him to the ground and grinned. "Didn't even have to beat you up, you're so weak."

Well then he proved just how not weak he was and flipped me over, which, other than the fact that it was somewhat attractive (but I couldn't let myself think of that), was rather irritating, so I flipped him over again, and this time I held him down for quite a while and as we struggled, we ended up laughing until there was the sound of someone clearing his throat above us.

Looking up, I sprang off of Freddie immediately and stood up, feeling my cheeks grow a little pink, but mostly for the embarrassment of being caught touching Freddie in the first place. It had nothing to do with the fact that I swore this man could tell I had feelings for Freddie. Nothing at all.

"No fighting allowed here, you two," the employee said in a strict tone as Freddie stood up and brushed himself off.

"Sorry," he muttered, obviously avoiding my eye just like I was doing with him. "It won't happen again."

"No, it won't. Either you two calm down and continue to bowl, or you're going to have to leave."

Freddie nodded and said something about behaving or whatever, but I barely paid attention since this guy was bothering me, and I knew it wouldn't end well if I let him anger me enough. End well for him, that is.

Finally, he walked away, and Freddie looked at me awkwardly. "Maybe, um, maybe we should just go anyway."

I shrugged and thought about it, brushing my hair with my fingers to double check nothing got in it while we were on the floor. "Uh, sure. Let's just return these nasty shoes and bolt out of here."

He nodded and we were fairly silent as we handed back those shoes for another person to wear and hope they didn't get some sort of foot disease or something. They really were so gross.

When we got outside, we walked for a short while before I heard what sounded like a snort and looked over to Freddie curiously. "No fighting allowed here, you two," he straightened up and put on a fake patronizing voice, wagging his finger in front of him. It took a minute to sink in, but suddenly I found myself laughing, especially since his impression was spot on, even if it was quite exaggerated.

"Either you two calm down and continue to bowl, or you're going to have to leave," I picked up where he'd left off, laughing as I tried to mimick the guy. Then it was Freddie's turn to laugh, and he gave me a friendly bump with his shoulder.

"That was pretty good."

"Pretty good? That was perfect."

"Perfect might be a bit of a stretch."

"Oh yeah? Do you think yours was perfect?"

"Pretty much."

"You wish. I'm Sam Puckett, and clearly I'm better at imitations."

"Well, Miss Puckett, it seems you're wrong on that one, since the actual best imitator would be none other than me."

I shook my head and laughed, "you should stop if you know what's good for your limbs."

"You should stop if you know what's good for your limbs," he mocked me, and yet, instead of getting mad, I found it funny, but I did push him across the sidewalk.

"Hey, that was rude!"

"You just pushed me across the sidewalk, I think we're even."

"I think we're even," I said in a falsely stuck up tone, shooting him a mischievous grin.

"You know what, Puckett?"

"What?" I was still grinning, and then, in response, he pushed me back across the sidewalk.

"That's what you get."

"Ooooh, a push from Freddie, I'm so scared," I threw up my hands in mock horror.

"Good, you should be. I'm the scariest and most intimidating person in all of Seattle, and you better not forget that," he shot me a dark look, and both of us ended up laughing again.

"You're ridiculous."

"You're more ridiculous."

"Your mother's ridiculous."

"There you go again with my mother," he threw up his hands and chuckled.

"Shut up," I bumped his shoulder once more.

Maybe hiding my feelings didn't have to only be painful. If only he hadn't been acting so weird the whole time since Carly left. Then I'd be a little more at ease with all of this. What was up with him, anyway? Never mind that. Whatever it was, it was somehow making this friendship thing not too bad.

Looking at the sheet of paper I'd detached from my wall, I felt like I should add something about tonight, but I didn't know what. I couldn't call that a date, but my mind wouldn't let me totally shut out the idea that Freddie and I had just gone on a non-date. As in, a friendly get together between two people who are friends while one is trying not to be in love with the other since the other will never, ever view the first one that way.

Great. Just peachy. A non-date it is.

March 29th, 2010: My First Non-Date (Freddie Benson)

Well that was an unexpected addition. Then again, weren't so many of them?

Thank you soooooo much for reading! :D I really hope all of you (if anyone's reading this) like the chapter!

I will try my best to work on the next one ASAP and post it soon, instead of in several months like this one unfortunately ended up.

So, Sam's working to not love Freddie anymore, though it's not exactly working, and now he's acting weird. DUNDUNDUN!

Please please please tell me what you think b/c I've missed this story and all of you, and anything you have to say will not only make my day, but also spur me on to write this story that much more, and I wouldn't even be doing this if it weren't for the wonderful support from all of you. Plus, I've really missed my faithful readers (I'm not kidding, I seriously have) so I hope to see all of you again! xD

Anyway, thank you again, and I will try to get the next one up soon! Also, Sam's list will be making a reappearance, and some of these things are getting written on it, those parts just aren't showing up in the chapters.