WOW. Thank you so much to everyone who commented (or messaged me) and encouraged me to continue My List of Firsts.

I never wanted to stop this story, but I realize that long updates can be discouraging, so I wasn't sure if anyone would still be reading my story. The response honestly exceeded anything I ever could have hoped for. To all of you who said anything, thank you again. It means more than I can even begin to explain. Even to those of you who didn't comment (and I know there are quite a few since the amount of people who read my story is overwhelming and so so so humbling), thank you.

What I realized as I read all of your comments and saw the count of people who came to read MLoF steadily mount was that I was afraid of ending this story. I think I feared writing too far ahead and feeling the need to end my story because I love it too much to let it go just yet. Luckily, I have several more (what I consider to be) exciting chapters written and in the works. I really hope all of you continue reading and letting me know what you think. Also, a special thanks to Sapphire for her/his comment - while I try to reply to everyone's comments and PMs, that one was a guest comment, yet still very touching, so I wanted to extend my appreciation.

Without any more discussion, a new (and more Seddie-filled!) chapter:

Chapter 26: My First Driver's License

The ride home from the studio hadn't been bad at all. We were all so excited over the fact that we were really going to be on Girly Cow, even if the episode wasn't set to air for a while, and so we spent the entire time talking about it. When we got back, Freddie said goodbye since his mom would be home soon and he had to pretend he'd been knitting all day or something like that.

Reluctantly, after another class of juice, I decided to head home, too. I would have much rather spent the rest of my life with Carly and Spencer, but it was getting late. Plus, she had that look in her eye that made it clear she wasn't as done with our discussion as I told her she had to be. The good thing was, I knew she was too good of a friend to go to Freddie about it, instead.

As it turns out, I was in luck. Well, kind of. On one hand, I wasn't stuck with having to face Carly and her all-too-knowing expressions. On the other hand, I was stuck in a messy cocoon of my sheets, feeling as though I was dying.

Illness is not my friend.

My mom told me I probably had some crazy rain forest disease and practically quarantined me in my room. I'm pretty sure I was too delirious to really notice much of what was going on.

It was probably just the flu or something, but, no matter what it was, it let me miss a week of school. That probably benefitted everyone else, too, because sick Sam is extra-cranky Sam.

I was mostly better by Friday but skipped out of school, anyway. My teachers probably threw a party about it, for all I know. They don't seem to like me very much. I would be offended, but I don't like them very much, either. Far too snooty.

I turned up at Carly's apartment and laid myself on her couch, letting out a loud groan to announce my presence.

When no one replied, I let out a louder groan, flopping haphazardly back onto the pillows.

"Sam?" I heard my voice being called from upstairs. There was a shuffle of footsteps and I knew she had arrived behind me before she said anything.

"Sam!" her voice was far too loud for my tired, sick brain. "Thank goodness! I was starting to worry you had died or ended up in prison and wasted your call on someone else."

I chuckled, but the sound was weak. Being sick is annoying.

When she walked around to the other side of the couch, I heard a gasp and turned my head from where it was buried in the pillow.

"Gosh, you look like you're in terrible shape. How sick are you?"

"Sick enough to miss a week of school."

"You skip sometimes even when you aren't sick."

"True."

"How do you feel?" This was apparently Nurse Carly mode.

"Fine, I guess. Better. Like I could really go for a ham right now."

"Do you have a fever?"

"Only if there's ham involved."

"Sam, I'm serious. Are you feeling any better? Have you taken medicine?"

"Do I seem like the kind of person who would have medicine in my house?"

There was a pause and she finally nodded. "Fair point. I'm guessing that also means your mom hasn't taken you to the doctor, either."

I shrugged, "we don't even really have a doctor. I tend to send people to them much more often than I ever need to visit."

I could practically feel Carly's worry floating through the room, but it's not like she could convince my mom to suddenly pay attention to health care or anything like that.

She sat down on the edge of her coffee table and reached over, moving some of the hair from my face and then pressing her hand to my forehead. "You do have a fever. Come on, get up, I'm taking you to my doctor."

"You really don't have to. I'm almost all better."

"Well we don't need you getting worse, now do we?" I felt a tug, which I belatedly realized was her attempt to get me off the couch – never an easy task.

I grumbled something but swung my legs off the couch, standing up and giving Carly a look that held no amusement.

She barely noticed, already on her way to grabbing a sweater, which, it turned out, was intended for me. "It's still springtime and it might be chilly outside, so bundle up." As we walked out the door, she kept talking. "I'm taking my homework along and I'll wait for you in the little sitting area. Though there is a health snack store down the street, and I've been meaning to buy more of the special almonds. I'll text you if I go over there, and if you finish before I'm back, just let me know you're taking the car and drive over to meet me."

The idea seemed fine to me, so I agreed, but just as we were getting in the car to head to the doctor's office – a place I wasn't too excited to visit – she paused and looked at me. "Wait a minute, scratch that plan. I'll just stay and wait for you."

"Why no special almonds?"

"Because you can't drive to get me."

"Excuse me, but I am a fully capable individual."

"Where's the proof of that?"

"Touché, Shay."

"How do you still not have your license in the first place?" She clicked in her seatbelt and got everything adjusted from Spencer's tall height to her own. "We live in Washington and you've had your permit since you were fifteen."

By now her attention was on the road, since she was always a safe driver, but she wasn't letting up on this topic.

"Uh, I haven't gone to the DMV?" I shrugged, crinkling up my face. It was the truth, even if it probably wasn't what Carly was looking for. I was excellent at giving answers that aggravated people.

"But why not?" She paused, making sure to turn on her blinker and turn safely before getting back to the conversation. "I could have taken you years ago if you wanted to get a license. I could have even paid the fee and helped you with the paperwork."

I could tell she felt a little uncomfortable with the suggestion since her voice was turning a bit squeaky, but I just shrugged again. "It's fine, Carls, really. Plus, being driven around isn't bad at all. Momma could get used to this."

I heard the telltale noises of her trying not to laugh and smiled to myself.

However, she apparently wasn't satisfied with ending the discussion there. "Do you know how to drive?"

"Yeah, Spencer taught me. Remember?"

"Again, do you know how to drive?"

"What do you mean?"

"Um," I could nearly feel Carly's guilty blush filling the room. "He's not exactly the most skilled driver to grace the state of Washington." She cleared her throat.

"Exactly," I chuckled. "So he's an excellent teacher for me. He fits my mentality and skill level."

"Stop making me laugh, I'm going to lose focus," she insisted, but we continued smoothly on our path nonetheless.

"Just be glad I'm not tickling you, Shay."

"Don't you dare!"

I made a move to act like I was about to do so, but I relented, figuring that it was best to not endanger both of our lives just for a bit of fun. Not this time, at least. Risking your life could be quite thrilling.

After Carly's doctor reminded me about a billion times to take just the right amount of my medication and to get a lot of rest and several other things I got bored and tuned out, the two of us headed over to the store so she could get her special almonds.

We got back to her apartment and she made sure I took all of the medicine I was supposed to before telling me to get some rest and tucking me under a blanket on the couch.

She really could be motherly sometimes, but I didn't care how she acted; there is no better best friend in the whole entire world. Even if mine does make me take disgusting medicine. Maybe I should have learned to swallow pills when I was little.

"Good as new," I grinned, shocking Carly, who spun around at the sound of my voice.

"Oh, Sam, you startled me," she smiled sheepishly.

"It's because of all of the energy I have."

"Why do you have so much energy?"

"Well I'm not coughing up a lung or sniffling my way to Alaska, am I?"

Her eyes lit up and she pulled me into a hug. "I'm so happy you're better. You took your meds, I'm guessing?"

"Forced them down my throat is more like it," I grumbled, but I was in a good mood, anyway.

"This is great! You recovered pretty fast, too, which is impressive."

"Your doctor said something about that. He talked about my immune system and then I'm pretty sure he went on a tangent about cats…" I gave her a look that showed I hadn't paid much attention, but she luckily seemed too happy to care much.

"You weren't here this morning, were you? I don't know how I could have not seen you." A worried expression graced her face but I just shook my head.

"Slept in."

"Sam."

"What? I was recovering from illness, Carly."

"That- that is not an excuse!" But even as she said it, I could tell she was faltering. "Okay fine, I'll let you off the hook, but don't make it a habit."

"I'll get kicked out if I do, and there's not enough to do at home for staying there all day for a few years to be entertaining."

"Good. In that case, happy Monday."

I made a noise of despair as she started guiding us down the hallway.

"So," I plopped myself down in a chair, only early for class because of Carly's promptness.

"Yes?"

"I have plans this afternoon."

"Oh? With whom?" I could tell her interest was piqued and I tried my best to not laugh.

"Likely a fat old man who ate too many potatoes for breakfast and is overly-critical."

"Ew," she scrunched her nose. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

"I want to go get my license."

"Really?"

"Kind of. I mean, I don't feel the need to drive, but I want one. Plus, now that I'm healthy again, I won't be hacking all over their car. They'd probably flunk me for that, the nubs."

"Be nice to them," she looked at me in warning, but I could tell she was happy I had finally agreed to do this.

"I'll try," she was still giving me the look. "I'll really try. " Then it was my turn to give her a look, this one more of confusion than anything. "Why don't you save these nuggets of wisdom for later?"

"What do you mean?"

"You'll take me to the DMV, won't you?"

A sad look dominated her face and I sighed, not sure I wanted to hear what came next.

"I'm scheduled to participate in a young entrepreneurs meeting this evening. I'm sorry, Sam."

I pulled a plastic bag out of my backpack and opened it, picking out a slice of bacon and beginning to chew it. "Not to worry, we can just go another day. You have some less smart children to wow."

"No, no, you should go. You seem to have your heart set on it and you really should get it before you change your mind. I would say Spencer could take you but I think he contracted some weird version of chicken pox but just in his armpits."

"Gross."

"I know. I made him start putting on the cream once it stopped hurting so much for him to move his shoulders."

"Smart choice."

"Thank you." There was a pause and then she brightened up. "Have Freddie take you."

Before I could groan, the teacher came in, and Carly gave me a look, signaling that it was time to focus and be studious. Or, in my case, eat bacon as I listened to the man in the front of the room ramble about nonsense.

Clearly my best friend didn't understand how dire my situation was. It wasn't like an awkward thing just happened and we were moving past it with all of the grace and poise and politeness that define Carly Shay.

I had kissed Freddie Benson, the biggest nub to ever exist. And I had no desire to look at him again. Why? Oh, only because my stupid self decided this would be an appropriate time to develop feelings for someone.

So, no, I would not be taking a ride with any such person to the DMV later.

It was around 3:45pm when I was stuck sitting in the passenger seat of Freddie's car.

I had totally meant to avoid this situation, but before she had gone to review her presentation, Carly had practically grabbed both Freddie and me and thrown us into the car.

The beginning of our ride was silent, and I was fine with that. Other than a few short mumbled comments, we had barely spoken to each other since the day Carly had been trapped in the elevator. Even then, I'd mostly spoken just to Spencer and his little sister.

The lack of talking was more than fine with me, but he didn't seem to agree. The nub. I should just break his arm. Or his leg. Or both.

"Are you looking forward to having your license?"

I didn't answer. I don't care if that's a childish thing to do – I'm not even 18 yet, and I don't need to put up with his stupidity and the weird things he makes me feel. I was definitely okay with not liking anyone other than being friends with Carly and tolerating Spencer and his weirdness.

"Sam?"

I snapped out of the daze that had come over me.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were looking forward to having your license."

"Oh, uh, I guess?" I looked around the car, staring at the dashboard. That was pretty much the most I had said to him in over a week.

"You'll have more freedom. Now you can go pick up ham whenever you want." Was this some sort of attempt at reconciliation? If so, it wasn't working. Things were just awkward and I didn't want to look at him because that would mean owning up to the terrible thing I had done.

"I already do."

There was a pause. Freddie apparently thought I'd be more conversational, which is dumb because I often cut him off on days when I don't feel like digging myself into a hole.

Several minutes passed and I almost turned the music on to fix the quietness, but then I remembered his mom had preprogrammed all of the stations to classical radio channels, and I didn't feel like dealing with her nonsense right now, so I sat and fidgeted in my seat.

"We're almost there." His voice was distant, and it seemed like he was putting effort into seeming nonchalant. Maybe I was just reading into it. Maybe I was doing the same thing.

No, no, definitely not. I was nonchalant. I am always nonchalant. I think that's the right word for it. Indifferent. Don't give a crab. Anything along those lines.

When he finally pulled into the parking spot – in a far too organized and thought-through manner – I practically leapt out of the vehicle in relief.

"I have my paperwork and the money and all of that chizz. I'm going inside. Feel free to wait here if you can't handle all of the long lines and grouchy people, Frednub."

"I can go in with you, if you want. Make sure you don't start any fights."

"Try not to suffocate in here."

"Try not to fail."

"Witty, Fredward. Great comeback." I rolled my eyes, still not looking at his, and then shut the door much harder than his weird mother would have approved of.

It turned out that Carly's last minute tips (stay calm, focus on the road, don't touch the evaluator, don't get distracted by daydreaming about food, and, again, stay calm) were very helpful. But unlike her advice to repeat the driver's manual in my head, I instead repeated her advice, and somehow resisted jumping the man sitting next to me.

I guess he didn't smell that bad.

"Get out of the car," I banged on the window, grinning to myself as Freddie jumped in surprise.

It took him a moment to calm down and roll down the window, but he finally did so. "Will you quit hitting the window?"

"Get out of the car."

"Only if you stop hitting it."

"Get out of the car."

It appeared that my lack of obedience frustrated him enough for him to throw open the door and step outside. But instead of punching him or lecturing him or anything like that, I just pushed him aside and slid into the driver's seat.

"Get into the car, Frednub. We're going for a ride."

"Uh, what?" He was clearly a slow learner.

"Get into the car," I said, more slowly this time, and with a look on my face that revealed how stupid I found him at the moment. "We're going for a ride."

"Where?"

"Alcatraz. No, idiot, we're going back to Carly's apartment."

"Did you pass your exam?"

"Of course I passed my exam."

"Show me your license."

I rummaged through my pocket before pulling it out and waving it over the passenger seat. "Satisfied? Good. Now get in."

He grumbled something, but after I still didn't stop staring at him, he finally made a typical Freddie noise of giving into something and then slid into the seat.

"Before I close the door, promise me you're not actually going to drive us to Mexico."

"I could just drive with the door open."

"My mom would kill me."

"And?"

"Just don't take us to Mexico."

"As if I would want to sit in a car with you for that long. I won't go any farther than LA."

He clearly wasn't pleased with my sarcasm – the nub probably didn't even realize I wasn't being serious. I kind of liked that fact. Scaring people was fun. But, he did close the door, so he was stuck going along for the ride. And I was stuck having him in here with me.

I actually backed out of the spot carefully and made my way through the parking lot. I made sure to put on my blinker when it was time to turn onto the road, and I didn't whip around the corner. Carly's words rang through my mind, and I supposed that was a good thing.

Freddie seemed like he was looking at me, and I wondered if maybe he was nervous because I was never usually this calm. There's a difference between driving calmly and actually being calm.

"I can see why they actually passed you."

"Shut up."

"That wasn't a rude comment."

"Shut up."

"Fine."

"Good."

There were several minutes without any noise other than what the car was doing.

"Even the things you say that are supposedly nice sound stuck up."

"Not intentionally."

"Who cares?" I shrugged. "I don't expect you to be nice to me in the first place. We hate each other too much for that. Now shut up, Benson. Carly told me I have to focus on the road."

He lifted his hands up in the air as if he was giving up, but he did seem a little less than happy. Whatever. I had driving to do and he was being his usual annoying nub self.

We made it about half of the way back before he started speaking again. He really must not understand what 'shut up' means.

Clearing his throat, Freddie made it nice and obvious that there was something he wanted to say. He wasn't really one to spit things out.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Very funny."

"Our thousands of viewers think so."

"Sam, I'm serious."

"So am I."

Freddie made a frustrated noise and sat back in his seat, kind of like a little kid pouting. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't Carly, so the sad, disappointed expression didn't really affect me. It probably helped that I was looking at the road and not at him.

But, he hadn't given up on his point. It only took a second or two for him to speak up again.

"It's just," he let out a sigh. My eyes remained trained on the road, trying their best not to look for the closest restaurants on the route. "Floppy disks don't go with CD drives – that's a fact. So I don't see how, temporarily, a CD drive could change shape to accommodate a floppy disk."

I rolled my eyes. Of course he had some nubby tech things on his mind. "I am not here to be your personal nerd assistant, Fredweird. Now, if you have nothing to contribute, kindly be quiet so that I don't figure eight my way into the nearest food provider and refuse to go anywhere."

His slight shock at my reaction was to be expected; he sometimes said I got a little 'extreme' about things, which is ridiculous and totally false. But what I wasn't expecting was for him to sound a little pleased.

"It was a metaphor."

"And I should care because?"

"A metaphor is when you-"

"Nice try, Benson, but only Carly gets to instruct me on the meaning of useless words."

He appeared to be struggling to say something but dancing around it and second-guessing the decision all at once. Generally, when your name is Freddie Benson and you're talking to Sam Puckett, and you're unsure whether or not you should say something, the answer is no.

The answer is always no.

But I guess not all Freddie Bensons are as intelligent as they try to seem, because this one sure has no common sense.

"I think we should talk about the fact that you kissed me."

What?! My head snapped around to look at him, my eyes wide in shock. That was one of the last things I would have expected him to say.

Without really thinking, I floored it.

My eyes were laser-focused on the ground once more, and I was speeding us down the road. Getting dumped off at arcades when my mom went on dates when I was little proved to have helped in some ways because my swerve and dodge skills were incredible, if I say so myself.

At this point, my mind was reeling to the point of being empty, and I paid no attention to our speed. I new the streets that rarely had police parked on them, and I automatically took them.

Whether or not people were honking at me, I didn't know or care. It's possible Freddie had lost his breath, because it wasn't for several seconds or minutes or who knows how long that I heard his voice.

"Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam," he seemed to be gasping.

I ignored him, but I did notice that he was holding onto the handle above the door and his feet were bent up on the dashboard.

He was so weird. I wasn't even driving that fast.

Then again, since he's used to being in the car with his mom, this was probably like NASCAR for him.

"Would you please slow down? I'm too young and sane to end up in a car chase just yet."

That was debatable, since he wasn't exactly normal. He was a weird nub. And it was never too early for a car chase. Unfortunately, I didn't think we were actually going to get one of those.

I was swerving left and right, focusing on nothing but wanting to get back and dump him off as soon as possible.

Sharply, I turned a corner, only to see another car barreling toward us. I wasn't scared – I couldn't be when I had no thoughts. But I did realize that this street could barely accommodate both vehicles. We were already going so quickly that slamming on the brakes seemed like the worst option.

So, maybe I wasn't as great of a driver as my license suggested, but whatever. Freddie had shut up.

Though we were about to hit a tree.

We were about to hit a tree.

Shoot.

I'm not sure whether I screamed or just tried to but no sound came out, yet, no matter what happened, I gave the wheel a sudden yank and by the grace of all of the Fat Shakes in the world, we just managed to scrape past the other car and wobble our way back onto the road.

The rest of the drive passed in a fast blur, and before I had really comprehended what was going on, we had jolted into the Benson parking spot in the garage attached to the building. For several moments, we just sat there, likely in shock.

Finally, I let out a breath, and there were a lot of nervous noises of gathering air in our lungs. I would say it had been frightening, but really, it hadn't been anything. It had just happened. But we were alive, and that was what mattered. Now Carly would still have someone to raid her fridge and someone to bore her with talk of technology.

It took a while, but I did, reluctantly, turn my head to look over and make sure Freddie actually was alive. I knew he was since I could hear his heavy breathing, but seeing for myself was reassuring.

"You're alive, right?" my voice was quiet, the whole situation still a bit of a haze.

I'm pretty sure I heard him gulp before he gave a few small nods. "Yep."

"That's… good." And it was good, but that didn't mean I wanted to suddenly engage in a riveting conversation with him.

A couple more minutes passed until I finally reached over and unbuckled my seatbelt. Opening the door and taking the keys out of the ignition, I tossed them onto Freddie's lap and then slid out of the car. Just before closing the door, I peeked my head in, this time looking straight at him, even if he seemed more dazed than anything.

"One more thing, Frednub. If you ever try to suggest we talk about such things again, you will wish I really had driven you into that tree."

He didn't respond, undoubtedly still in shock, just as I was, but I could tell he caught what I was saying. "Have a good night. Glad we didn't die."

For once, I wasn't kidding when I said something like that. I definitely didn't want to die, and, frankly, I wasn't too keen on the idea of Freddie doing so, either.

There was no one at home when I returned (I had gone straight from the parking lot since Carly wasn't home), and somehow I was too much in shock to eat. Well, if you had placed a chicken wing or twenty in front of me, I would have eaten them without hesitation, but I wasn't actively seeking food.

Treading upstairs, I pulled my list out of its hiding spot and scribbled down the twenty-first item.

April 28th, 2010: My First License

Look at that, I accomplished something.

Though, as I crawled in bed, not sure whether or not I had changed into my pjs or not and really not caring, I didn't feel like I had accomplished much of anything except for possibly ruining one of my friendships for the umpteenth time.

It wasn't my fault he was such a nub. It wasn't my fault we hadn't talked in a week and a half. It wasn't my fault I had- I had- I had kissed him.

Cheeseballs. Fine, maybe some of that was my fault.

But we didn't need to talk about it. Right?

Right.

There was no need to talk about something that meant nothing.

The problem was, to me, it hadn't meant nothing.

The problem was getting myself to get some sense since it had meant nothing to him.

The problem was that I needed to stop hiding when there was nothing to hide from in the first place. We didn't need to talk about it because I didn't need to explain and he didn't need to unknowingly crush my stupid feelings that were very un-Sam-like.

The problem was that, as I was falling asleep… I knew I wanted to do it again.

I really hope you enjoyed it! There is no dead Freddie, which is a very good thing (and probably makes for a happy Sam, even if she wouldn't admit that).

Please let me know what you think, and look forward to a new chapter in the near future. The next one's written already, and I'm getting to work on the following two, which I hope you'll like very much. :)