*slides in with a new chapter after 3.5 years*

Chapter 30: My First Time Relenting

Previously:

"Spit it out, Benson. I don't have all night." That wasn't true, since I had no reason to get home, but I didn't want to stand here listen to him splutter words for an hour.

Clearing his throat, Freddie seemed to snap to attention and straightened up. Dropping his hand from the key in the door, he took a step closer to me. Though I was thoroughly unprepared for what was coming next, and when the words came from his mouth, I felt my jaw slacken and my eyes grow wide in shock. It's also very possible my heart stopped beating.

"I was wondering if you would want to go out with me sometime. Like, on a date."

I stared at him.

I just stared at him.

My brain, which generally moved at a relaxed pace, felt like it was turned off completely.

Maybe I was hearing things. Maybe he had asked if I knew what day of the week it was. Maybe he asked if I had stolen a steak out of his mother's fridge.

But the longer I stared at him, the more his words began to sink in, and the more I realized that I hadn't heard him wrong.

Part of me was shouting the answer so loudly inside that it felt like the words were actually going to burst out of my mouth. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

Yeah, it was probably one of my weaker moments as an unfortunately girly girl. Some boy just asked me on a date and I wanted to nod without hesitation and run out of the building right now with him and make it happen. The problem was, it felt too good to be true.

Everyone gets surprised sometimes, but this didn't make sense.

Freddie had never shown any interest in me. Had he? No. No he hadn't. He probably just put up with me because Carly was our friend. Maybe our friendship spanned a little further than that, especially since he hadn't been hung up on our mutual best friend in, well, in years. That had given me hope, but now it seemed foolish. Calling us friends sometimes seemed like a stretch, but it was possible. Him liking me, however… That just didn't seem possible. I was still unsure whether or not he had kissed me back during the fleeting seconds of my mistaken action on my birthday. I think not, even if I wanted to think that he had.

It was best to think he hadn't, because my false hope had landed me here. Wondering why the heck Freddie Benson had just asked me out on a date.

A sudden fear took over my brain. He was making fun of me. I had become dumb and girly and full of emotions that I was never meant to have, and after all of this time, he was finally getting back at me for all of the times I had teased him.

Oh crab.

Anger hit me and I frowned. "No."

I wasn't sure how long it had taken me to reply, but he straightened up and raised his eyebrows, this time not in the way that made my stomach twist, but out of confusion.

"No?"

"No." I was firmer this time.

The look on his face showed just how little he understood my answer, but I didn't care. If he was going to take advantage of my supreme lapse of judgment and silly confessions, then I was going to knock him down as fast as I could.

We looked at each other for a minute. "Can I ask why?"

I shrugged, as if it was no big deal, as if I didn't want him to be serious, as if it wasn't pathetically hard for me to decline. "Because."

"Because?"

"Yeah, because." Since we hadn't looked away yet, my eyes were still on his, and there seemed to be a shift in them, marking disappointment and confusion. But I gave it no thought, instead just wanting to get out of here as soon as I could.

There was more silence, and even though I was good at interrupting awkward moments, no words seemed to be in my mind.

"I should get home." There wasn't anything going on there, but that's where I had been headed, and standing here quietly watching Freddie and worrying about what was going on in his mind sounded unappealing.

He nodded. Backing up, he returned to the key in his door and turned the knob. "Goodnight, Sam."

I looked up, turning back from where I was standing, nearly around the bend in the hallway. Our eyes met and something inside me felt sad – yes, I am getting lamer and lamer by the day.

"Goodnight." I tried to at least offer him a smile, but I was ticked off and confused and just needed to get out of there.

That night, I didn't get much sleep. Eating and sleeping are two of my favorite activities and greatest skills, so I was not pleased, to say the least. Waking up felt more like I had been hit in the face with a brick, and my blonde curls were suffocating me as they sprawled out everywhere when I tried to sit up in my bed.

It took a lot of effort to not roll onto the floor from my covers, and even then, my torso was halfway there by the time I realized what I was doing. My breakfast ended up being just as much of a mess, with milk being spilled on the counter instead of into my bowl for a good minute or two. Today was not my day.

The pattern of bad luck didn't end there. I went to take the bus through town so I didn't have to walk all the way to Carly's, but it turned out I had just missed it. Waiting for the next one wouldn't have been a problem since I wasn't in a rush for anything specific, but I wasn't patient and so I didn't have it in me to sit around for half an hour.

It was some sort of miracle that rain didn't start pouring down on me as I walked through Seattle. I may be somewhat small yet tough, but I'm no athlete, and so by the time I got to Carly's building, I practically fell into the elevator. At last, it opened with a ding, and I looked up, seeing my best friend standing in front of me and looking curiously into her elevator.

"Long ride?"

"Took forever," I grumbled, still laying on the floor of the elevator. She was smiling in amusement and I tried to glare at her, but it was hard when she hadn't done anything and I was so tired.

Finally, I flipped over and dragged myself into her living room, groaning dramatically.

"Are you going to stand up?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't wanna."

"Are you tired?"

"Yes."

"You can climb over to the couch and take a nap."

"I don't want to move."

"Do you have your–"

"Don't say it," I gave her a sharp look.

"Well, do you?"

"I didn't pour my milk on the table this morning because I'm bleeding without a wound."

While she was unconvinced for a moment, I knew for a fact that she was more on top of those dates than I was, so it wasn't long before she relaxed her expression. "I'll help you to the couch."

It took a lot of flailing limbs and groaning and huffs of effort, but I was eventually on the couch one way or another. I really was exhausted since I'd barely slept, and I didn't even realize I was heading toward a nap until I woke up, blinking in confusion. "Carly?" My tired voice cracked in a weird way, making me feel like a pubescent boy. Ew.

There was a shuffling and I soon saw my best friend's face pop around the corner. "You awake, sleepyhead?"

I stuck out my tongue but nodded. "Sorry for being a boring guest."

"It's not like you ever put on a dance show when you come over or anything like that," she laughed, sitting on the table in front of me. "But don't worry; I'm just glad you slept up there instead of in my elevator."

Before I could say anything much, I noticed that she was wearing something different from what I'd seen her in before I'd fallen asleep. Generally, I wasn't very observant. That trait went entirely to Carly. Clothes were rarely something I noticed unless it was Spencer in a dress or anyone being dumb enough to wear stripes. But this stood out because it differed from anything I'd seen the girl wear before.

"Are you wearing an apron?"

She nodded and I could see that she was excited to talk about it. "I got a job!"

"What?"

"A job!"

"I thought you were waiting until that special internship application came out."

She shrugged. "I was, but then I figured it would be good to have some earlier experience. Plus, Spencer has been moping and refusing to do anything but super glue some objects to his wall for the past few days because he accidentally set one of his sculptures on fire, so I figure one of us should be productive. I went to the little coffee shop – you know, the one near the Groovy Smoothie? – and asked if they were looking for help. Turns out the guy thought I was over-qualified and offered me the job right there."

I raised my eyebrows before smiling. "Good for you, Carls. Though I don't know why you're surprised; I'm pretty sure you're over-qualified for everything except maybe being the President."

A happy look took over her face and she let out one of those sappy sounds that implied she had been moved by what I said. "Thanks, Sam. That means a lot. Even if it's a big exaggeration, but whatever," she laughed softly. "I was going to let you know when you came over, but you fell asleep and I figured I would let you nap."

"A wise choice, Miss Shay," I nodded, smirking.

Just as I went to sit up, there was a knock on the door and a familiar voice rang out, muffled through the wood, and I felt the sudden urge to bury myself into the cushions. Because, yes, I am lame like that. And I didn't know what I was supposed to say.

But Carly, being the friendly girl and good neighbor she was, got up from her seat and opened the door.

"Hey!" there was an excited look on her face, which remained there from her announcement. "Do you need something? I'm just on my way out."

He shrugged, looking her up and down curiously. "I just came over to leave my mom in peace as she does her bi-weekly cleaning. Why the outfit?"

"I'm going to work."

"You work now?"

"Yes I do," Carly grinned at him. "But feel free to stay here in the meantime. I just have a two hour shift and Spencer's been dying to make spaghetti tacos lately, so he'll be glad to have company for dinner."

He made his way inside and took a seat. "I've been missing the delicacy so that sounds perfect to me."

"I'll text him on my way out," she confirmed before slipping out of the door. "Be good you two," she added, making me hope she was simply referring to my tendency to beat up her neighbor.

"Try not to fall asleep on the job!" I called after her as the door shut.

And then we were left alone.

I grabbed my arm, rubbing it uncomfortably. Normally, I ignored situations that could be awkward. I wasn't a nub, and so I just focused on something else. If other people wanted to feel weird about life, that was their problem.

Except, right now, it was my problem, too.

Nowhere in my guide of how to handle situations did I have a bullet point on how to talk to Freddie after he asked me out on a date. Because in what world would Freddie Benson ever utter such words to me?

Maybe the day had passed when he would only ask Carly such a thing, but he was still a nub who didn't get girls, and definitely didn't want any named Sam.

"We going to sit here in silence all day?"

"Huh?" I looked over, only to realize that Freddie was looking at me.

"You look like your mind is stuck in Peru or something."

"I'm just hungry," I shrugged, getting up and moving toward the kitchen. "But that can be fixed."

"Sam," I heard him call after me, and though I didn't say anything, I knew he'd keep talking. "I know talking isn't really our thing-"

I snorted, "you got that much right, Benson." Where was the ham? Did Carly and Spencer finish it? This was not shaping up to be a successful snack break.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him sitting in the chair behind the computer, looking over the half-wall at me.

I shifted uncomfortably again, looking back in the fridge. His apartment was close. He didn't need to sit here and try to talk to me.

He sighed and I kept my head stuck in the fridge. "You don't have to change your mind on the answer, but do you at least have a better answer than because?"

Even with the suddenness of his comment, I didn't need to be told what he was asking about right now. I shrugged, still scanning the shelves of the refrigerator. "I'm busy."

"I didn't suggest a day."

"I have lots of activities."

"You're not in any clubs."

"Homework."

"You never do your homework."

"Hey," I turned around, pointing my finger at him. "It's happened before."

He just nodded, looking a little amused, but apparently not dropping the topic yet.

"Fine," he nodded, and I looked back into the fridge as he retreated to the living room.

"Finally!" I exclaimed, finding some sort of meat. Pulling it out, I got it into the microwave. Once it was heated, I grabbed the container and moved into the other room.

We sat in silence for quite a while, the noises of my chewing the only sounds in the room. There was a restless feeling, but I hid it in my eating. Freddie turned on the television and I focused on my turkey leg instead of whatever show it was.

As I was busy licking my fingers, Freddie spoke again, and not to talk to the television like he sometimes did.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you'd come up with a better excuse yet."

I raised my eyebrows, looking at him as if he was done. "For eating that turkey leg at a record speed? No excuse needed. Momma was hungry."

He sighed and I knew the fact that I kept evading his questions was starting to make him impatient. A trait Mrs. Benson undoubtedly came up with a rhyme to help him avoid.

"Sam."

"Freddie."

I shrugged. What was I supposed to say?

What happened next surprised me. I thought he would get annoyed and give up asking. I was good at frustrating people that way. But he didn't. Instead he got serious, and something about that was a little scary.

Turning around so that he was looking at me directly, the noise of the television dying behind him, Freddie looked at me for a minute, and I fidgeted in place.

"I know that you're great at escaping responsibility and are more than capable of rejecting me until we're ninety-five, but I need you to know that I was serious. When I asked you out, that is."

For several moments, I just stared at him in confused surprise. When I realized what I was doing, and just how awkwardly he was looking at me, I knew I had to say something. He really was being serious. And I didn't know what to do.

"What?"

Yes, because that sounded intelligent. Good job, Sam.

"I was serious. It doesn't seem like you believe me, but I wasn't kidding. And because I wasn't kidding, I'd appreciate a legitimate reason. Even if it's just that you hate me a lot – no matter how much that contrasts what you told me a few days ago. An actual reason other than 'because' would be appreciated."

Staring at him uncomfortably, I looked down, running my hands over my pants.

"I thought you were making fun of me." The reply was mumbled downward.

"What?" Now it was his turn to be confused, apparently.

"I thought you were making fun of me, okay? After what I told you. And I didn't want to seem lamer than I already am."

With a frown, I stood up, feeling restless. Telling him this wasn't exactly helping me avoid feeling super lame, but now we were stuck together in here. I could bolt for it, as I'd done on a few recent occasions, but part of me knew this time I had to face the conversation. This sort of responsibility could only have come from Carly. Oh, crab. I hated when she started to rub off on me with her goody-goody ways.

"Look," I began, wanting to get away from this talk as soon as I could. "We don't need to go on about this. I gave you my explanation just like you asked. Can we just avoid that whole pretending to sympathize thing and move on?"

Dropping my hands to my sides upon realizing I was gesturing and talking a bit more rapidly than I meant to, I glanced cautiously at Freddie. He remained silent throughout my whole little rant, and he seemed to be inspecting me a bit too closely now that I finished.

"Sam, listen to me. At least for a minute." He rose to his feet, and that look in his eyes that made me uneasy hadn't gone anywhere. I crossed my arms but didn't say anything. Freddie took this as his opportunity to continue talking. "I'm glad you explained, especially since I've been asking you to do so for quite a while now, but you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. I know you're used to beating people up and knocking out children with strips of bacon, but taking a break from that for something else doesn't make you lame."

He made sense, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it, or that I was ready to believe what he was saying. I meant it when I told him not to act as if he felt bad for me or anything like that.

But apparently he still wasn't done. "I might make fun of you a lot-"

I let out a little snort upon hearing that.

"Yet you make fun of me all the time, too. Do you really expect me not to wonder if you only said you liked me because that's exactly what you were trying to do?"

Well, I hadn't thought about that. I'd been so focused on how I felt about him and how confusing everything was that I hadn't considered that he might think I said how I felt just to put him in an awkward situation or something like that.

Before I could mumble some sort of response, he let out a sigh and kept talking. "Sam, I wasn't making fun of you. Yeah, sure, in the past we've always joked with each other about how no one would want either of us, and sometimes it even seemed true. But when I asked you out, as I've already said, I really meant it."

He kept looking at me a little nervously for a minute, but some sort of confidence seemed to take over him as the seconds passed.

"But the truth is, I'll like you no matter what. Even if you keep refusing to go out with me, it's not going to change that fact."

When he said it, my turn to be dumbfounded came. Did Freddie Benson just say he liked me? If we hadn't just been over this whole 'I'm not making fun of you' thing, I might've thought that was exactly what he was doing. These past few days – possibly even weeks – were getting way too confusing for me.

"You like me?" My arms were still crossed, but even with my unintentionally aggressive look (which was probably just my natural appearance), he didn't back down.

"Yeah, I do."

I paused, chewing on my lip for a second. "Then prove it. I need a reason to believe you."

Challenging the nub was a longtime hobby. I couldn't just start accepting that he was right because I wanted him to be for once.

The insistence I expected him to give didn't come. Instead, after just two short strides from him, I felt his hand move behind my head, and with a strength he lacked for so many years (and the element of surprise working in his favor), he wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me close as he kissed me.

My eyes widened in surprise, and for a second, I just stood there, rigid and unsure of what was happening. This was nothing like our effort to get our first kisses out of the way, and it wasn't even like the stupid kiss I'd given him on my birthday.

He wasn't going anywhere, and he was most certainly determined. Finally, I threw all consideration out the window and decided to let him prove himself, moving my one good arm around his neck and closing my eyes at last.

It was at that very inconvenient moment that Carly returned from her shift. The door opened and somewhere in the distance came her, "I'm back, Sam! I hope you haven't-"

We pulled apart in a hurry, but it was clear from her dumbfounded expression that we hadn't moved fast enough. She still held the door open with one hand, and I wasn't sure if her face was ever going to change expressions.

Slowly, she pointed between us, "you two…" her voice did that thing where it raised a few octaves as she tried to understand what was happening.

I swallowed, glancing at my shoes, while Freddie stuttered something I couldn't understand. This day was just full of surprises.

Neither of us came up with anything to say before Carly gained control of the situation. "That took long enough." She looked… relieved. "I thought I was going to have to hold your hands through this whole thing and make at least four more hospital runs." A smile worked its way onto her face. "So, tell me everything. What did I miss?"

Finally, my ability to speak reappeared. "You didn't miss anything. I ate some turkey, then this happened." I gestured toward Freddie, hating that I could feel a slight heat in my cheeks.

"Sam and I are going on a date," the boy next to me announced.

This thrilled my best friend, who practically let out a squeal. Yet I cut off any response she might've had with a retort of my own.

"I still never agreed to that."

"Sam-" It dawned on me that his arm was still around my waist. I had some desire to push him away, but I was stuck with a cast over the arm that was between us. "Was that not good enough proof for you, especially after our conversation?"

I grumbled something, but after looking over to see Carly's eager face and then glancing back at Freddie and remembering all too clearly that the nub had just kissed me, I let out a sigh and relented. "Fine. We can go on a date. But I am not wearing a dress for you, and I am not turning into a sappy mess. If you try to imply as much, I will kick you."

This seemed good enough for Freddie, who suddenly grinned and pulled me into a hug. "Fredward," I writhed and tried to push him off of me. "I am still a cripple. Get off of me."

Realizing his mistake, he quickly let go, but I held up a hand to stop his apologies. "I'll let you off the hook this time. For reasons." I struggled not to smile, but it didn't go to well.

At last, Carly decided enough had happened that she could insert herself into our chat, and she hurried over, insisting that she hear more. She pressed Freddie for information, knowing he wasn't nearly as grumpy of a storyteller as I was.

So... I don't know if anyone is still around to read this, but I realized I had a couple chapters already written and had an urge to get back to MLoF and finish it in the near future, so here we are!

If anyone DOES actually read this update, please let me know! If so, then I'll hopefully make my way through what could end up being the last 3 - 10 chapters!

Also, if there are any requests, then just comment or message me! Thank you. xx