Jesus it's been a long time. For that I apologise, but mostly it's due to life making me busy. Right now I should have been doing about 4 essays for school, but I'm 18 next week so I decided to forget all that and give myself a little childish indulgence of writing a fanfiction. I haven't written a Day for this story since June 2015 so please be patient with it. It's not fluffy, it's not filled with passion, it's just short and sweet. It's also slightly out of character but I hope it's alright. I hope to see you guys soon, I promised myself I'd finish it so if it takes me another 2 years so be it. Until next time...

~Charlotte~

Day 83 of 100 Days of Seddie Challenge: Moving

Sam POV

"Thanks for helping me move out," I said to Freddie as we walked into my room.

"No problem," he said, sincerely. That was something he rarely said, especially in that tone – especially not without the sarcasm.

I had come back home staying at Cat's in LA for a few days, it was official: I was moving out of Seattle, just like Carly, just like Melanie. But not like Freddie.

I couldn't quite believe I was doing it – seriously. After all those years of dreaming of moving out, away from my mom drama and finally after graduating school I was leaving. I guess the fact Carly had gone wasn't keeping me there anymore, not really. I know Spencer was still living there and I'd miss him like crazy, but he practically gave me his blessing as soon as he gave me the keys to his motorcycle. He wanted to give me something to give me that choice of staying or going. But it also gave me the choice of coming home whenever I wanted which I was grateful for. But this time I didn't ride it back to Seattle, I took the train. I couldn't have moved all my stuff on my motorcycle, I wasn't that stupid.

Then there was the nub – the brown haired, brown eyed one standing in my room looking sad. Literally sad. His face looked soft apart from the furrowed eyebrows and the creases in his forehead. For a second I thought about smoothing out the lines but then I realised how many boundaries that would cross. All of them.

Freddie looked around my room and then back at me, "Are you actually going to take all this junk with you?"

I scoffed, "It's not junk, it's my stuff."

"Yeah exactly," he said, gingerly picking up a piece of clothing slung over a chair so that he could take a seat. "Do you even have enough room in LA for all this? You only have your motorcycle, how did you actually think you could transfer all this? Had you even thought about that?" Again with the eyebrows, all scrunched up, confused and concerned. Urgh.

"Yes. You're going to take me," I said matter-of-factly.

"I'm doing what now?" He gave me a bewildered look.

"You're gonna take me," I repeated slowly, as if he was incapable of understanding simple English.

"And were you going to tell me about that before? What if I had plans?"

"Oh please, you mean crocheting with your mom?" Freddie looked panicked and embarrassed. "Come on Freddie, we dated for months it's not like I didn't know your schedule. Besides, that's the reason I came back today, I figured I'd help get you out of it."

He looked defeated and also grateful then nodded in acceptance. "Fine," he sighed, "we better start getting your junk together or else it will get dark."

"Aww, is little Freddie scared of driving in the dark?" I said in my best baby voice, tickling him under the chin. He swatted at my hand. I laughed.

Together we started to pack up my stuff, I sorted my clothes, I was not about to let him rummage through my closet and drawers. That wouldn't have been much of problem anyway considering the majority of my clothes were strung all over the floor anyway. Instead I left him to sort out CDs, DVDs and whatever random knickknacks he could find in drawers or on my desk. He even found a few books that he put straight into a box, including the 'Penny Treasure' series that he'd bet me to read the first book 'cover to cover'. Of course I won. In return he stuck a hose down his pants, but he also bought me the rest of the books in the series. I wasn't the type of girl to read but honestly I loved those books, so in a way I was in gratitude of the nub for forcing me to read it. Again, urgh.

A little while later I heard Freddie stop what he was doing and heard him sigh wistfully. I looked over at him to see him sitting on my bed holding onto a picture frame. Oh no. I had hidden it at the bottom of one of my bed side drawers. He was looking down at it so I went to sit next to him.

Freddie tilted it so I could see. "You kept it?" he asked quietly. It almost didn't sound like a question.

I tried to think of something witty or sarcastic or funny to say but I couldn't think of anything. "Yeah," I sighed, almost in defeat. I'd forgotten it was in there, I'd almost forgotten I had it, but not really.

It was a picture from when we were fifteen – not yet dating, not enemies, but more friends. Carly had grabbed a camera and caught us off guard when Freddie and I were laughing about something – it was so long ago I couldn't even remember what we were laughing about. When Carly snapped it I complained but she said it was one of the only times she had seen Freddie and I not bickering, not being angry, not teasing each other, just sitting next to each other and getting along. The picture showed us sitting next to each other, arms almost touching, looking happier than anyone would even image we could be in each other's company. A few years later, Carly and I were going through photographs and she decided to give it to me once Freddie and I had started dating. So I framed it and put it on my bedside table and took it down a little while after we broke up.

We kept looking at it together for a few more moments. I looked up at Freddie for a moment and saw him have a sad little smile on his stupid face. I felt my pulse quicken.

"So you're sure about leaving?" he almost whispered. He didn't look at me, he just looked at the photo instead.

"There's just not anything here for me. With Carly gone and school over, and we can't do the show anymore, so what's the point in staying?"

"What about me?" He sounded hurt.

"What about you?" I knew what he meant but I didn't want to hurt him.

"Am I not a reason for you to stay?" He finally turned to look me in the eye.

"I…It's not about you," I said, "It's about what I see myself doing with my life. LA holds so much more, I need to move on, move away, figure things out. LA really isn't that far, it's not like I won't see you or talk to you."

"I know but…I don't know," he sighed, "It's just going to be weird living here without my two best friends."

"You'll have Spencer," I said trying to console him, even putting my hand on his shoulder.

"I guess…" His hand reached out and held mine into his shoulder. Then, before I had registered what I was doing, I rested my head on his shoulder. For a moment I stiffened, not sure if it was acceptable, until I felt his head rest on mine. I guessed we had both felt the bitter-sweetness of what I was doing. I was leaving and it was rare that we'd have these calm moments between us, just like the photo still clutched in his hand, and it felt normal. It felt right. We found some kind of comfort in each other, and just sitting there with him felt warm and okay. It felt easy. Breaking away from him would be hard, but as long as we could share those small moments it made our friendship stronger.

Comments would be appreciated! Thanks for reading and thank you for your patience! (I also didn't proof read, but I never actually proof read anything I write)