iEnyoyed the kiss

by Princesa de Jesus

Sam and Carly go to the dentist and it goes as well as expected, until Carly has to leave Sam to take care of her brother injured by the prisoners. Freddie agrees to go take care of Sam without knowing how much it would affect him to talk to a Sam out of her senses. • Seddie •

9. iGet Ready

・ Notes ・

As you may know, there are several changes compared to the original episode iSpeed Date, so don't be surprised if you come across scenes or elements that seem out of place. In the series, we only see a double date and not the dance itself, so I decided to take a different approach. If you'd like, you can rewatch the episode—or at least its final part—though I don't think it's necessary. And as I mentioned before, this will be 100% Seddie!

On another note, I ended up splitting Chapter 9 into three parts since it turned out quite long. So, if I were you, I'd grab some popcorn and read this as if it were a one-hour special of the show. (This dance arc is so long it might as well be a movie—no joke.)

Note: The link bellows contain the first fan art of this fanfic! It was made by CChinita23. It was drawn before the chapter was released, so those aren't their official outfits. Still, I thought it was really cute and wanted to share it here. :3

Link del fanart: pin/922745411157554850/

On the other hand, I apologize for the delay. My laptop charger broke down, and I've had to edit the chapter from different devices.

Spotify Playlist: playlist/3QhLC6gzpVRnpkLVJ7W3VG?si=MrFDMFWeR4iZ83H5r39OcA

Chapter 9

[ Part 1: iGet Ready ]

At the agreed time, Sam and Freddie went over the last details. Freddie suggested that he could leave his house early to change in Spencer's room and then pick her up so they could arrive together. Sam agreed. They discussed the exact time, how they would get there, and who'd pay for what, among other things.

With that settled, they moved on to a topic of real importance: who would win in a fight, a ninja clown or a mutant gorilla? Sam was all in for the mutant gorilla, while Freddie argued in favor of the ninja clown.

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted when Freddie's mom asked (or rather, demanded) that he go to bed. He replied with an exhausted, "Yes, Mom, I got it," just to avoid another lecture on how crucial sleep is for his health.

As soon as the other end of the line went quiet, Sam commented, "Nice mom, you've got there." To which Freddie replied that she wasn't one to talk—though her mom wasn't as much of a freak as his. Sam argued that her mom was definitely the bigger freak, and somehow, that turned into an argument over whose mom was the biggest freak.

They ended the conversation with Freddie wishing her goodnight, while Sam reminded him to turn on his nightlight so he could sleep well. He insisted that he didn't use those things anymore and quickly switched the topic, telling her to hide her food, so her mom wouldn't steal it.

And just like that, in the least romantic way possible—but in a way that only they would find romantic—they hung up.

Sam had to admit that she felt a little weird after her conversations with him—but not in a bad way. It was a good kind of weird, one she actually enjoyed. Sure, there were some insults and jokes thrown around, but they both knew neither of them meant it, and in reality, everything was fine between them. It was nice.

With that in mind, she finally decided to take a shower, mostly because of the heat and the annoying mosquitoes. After that, she got ready for bed. She knew she should at least lay out her dress or make sure everything was ready, but she just didn't have the energy for it. Besides, tomorrow she would have all the time in the world to figure out how she would dress, style her hair, and do all those things people usually do for a "special occasion."

Since there were no classes the next day because of the dance (only the students that were organizers and a few volunteers had to show up), Sam turned off her alarm and, without another thought, flopped onto her bed, ready to call it a night.

---

In her dream, Sam was exploring a castle made of bacon when she felt something touch her shoulder. At first, it was just a light brush—easy to ignore—but soon, it turned into a persistent shake. Annoyed, she tried to kick away whatever was bothering her, only to end up tossing her blanket onto the floor. Frustrated, she opened her eyes, and there was Melanie, beaming with excitement and full of her usual boundless energy.

"What do you want?" Sam grumbled, still half-asleep, as she rubbed her eyes.

"To get you out of bed before it gets any later."

"Later? What time is it?" Sam asked, suddenly sitting up.

Oh, no! It was probably three in the afternoon. That would only give her, what, two hours to get ready? Definitely not enough time for whatever Melanie had in mind.

"It's ten fifteen."

Sam grabbed the fallen blanket and wrapped herself in it.

"Don't be so dramatic," she said with a yawn. "Wake me up at noon."

"If I do that, we'll be late for your salon appointment."

"A salon what? But how if I haven't made any..."

"You didn't, but I did."

"What? Since when? You just found out about this yesterday!"

"Last night. I talked to a friend who owed me a favor. Her mom owns a beauty salon, and they're going to fix you up for free—hair, nails, makeup, the whole deal."

"Makeup? And who said I wanted—"

"Relax, it won't be anything over-the-top or too noticeable. The salon has examples, or you can look up pictures online. You can pick whatever makes you feel comfortable. And if you really don't want it, they'll just do your hair and nails."

"For real?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Only when I ask you to, I think."

"Exactly. So trust me when I say everything will go smoothly."

"And what about the dress? Don't we need to take it to the tailor or something?" she asked, remembering how Carly had once told her that she took her dresses to the tailor a few days before wearing them.

"I already took care of that this morning. I'll pick it up while you're at the salon. And we might stay there the whole afternoon, so you won't sweat too much."

Melanie had told her everything confidently and seemed to have everything under control, but still, Sam wasn't very convinced. Sitting in a chair for hours just to get dolled up—only to take it all off a few hours later—wasn't exactly her idea of a good time. Plus, she had already told Freddie to pick her up at home.

"Is this salon far from here? Because I told Freddie to pick me up at our place, and I don't want him getting lost on the other side of the country over something stupid."

"No, it's just a few blocks away, but I think it'd be better if you guys met there instead. My friend's mom also runs a photography business, so there are some really nice spots for pictures—both in the salon and at their house," Melanie explained. "I figured, since you two can't exactly take a couple pictures in public, this would be a good chance to get some keepsakes."

Okay. Sam had to admit—it wasn't a bad idea. The plan made sense, it didn't really affect them much, and it would help her keep the ankle promise she made to Carly. Plus, now that she thought about it, she and Freddie didn't really have any pictures together-together. You know, not the "together" as friends, but the "together" as a couple. So, she supposed it wouldn't hurt to go along with it.

(Then again, it's not like Melanie would've accepted a "no" for an answer. She was just like Sam in that regard—stubborn to the very end.)

"Fine. I'll do it," Sam agreed. "But only because I promised Carly I would."

"I'm guessing it's an ankle, swear."

"Yep, you guessed right." Sam yawned and patted her cheeks to wake herself up a little. "And I'm guessing you wouldn't dare wake me up without having food ready first."

"Yup. I made sweet plantains with salami and cheese. It's on the table," Melanie informed her. Just then, a notification popped up on her phone, and she started heading toward the door. Before leaving, she paused. "Oh, by the way, Mom already had breakfast and left, so you can eat in peace and then take a shower before we go."

"Alright. Thanks."

Sam rubbed her eyes, still exhausted. She really just wanted to sleep, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

When she glanced at Melanie's door, she noticed her sister hadn't left yet—she was still standing there, looking surprised. Sam wondered if she'd seen a bug or something.

"What is it? Did you see a bug or what?" she asked, looking around but not noticing anything unusual.

"No, I... it's nothing," Melanie shook her head, smiling again. "I'm going to go pack my things. See you in a bit."

Melanie left the room, leaving Sam alone with her thoughts.

Sam flopped back onto her bed. Melanie really knew how to organize everything in the blink of an eye. How did she do it? It was a little scary how efficient she was at finding solutions and convincing people. If she had managed all this in just one day, Sam didn't even want to imagine what she could've pulled off with a whole week. She probably would've booked a spa day or even arranged some fancy treatment. You know, like in those teen movies where someone gets a "makeover." Makeovers that, in her opinion, were kind of ridiculous because the characters were already good-looking—they just needed to shower and comb their hair to stop looking like hobos or weirdos.

With a sigh of resignation, she got out of bed, brushed her teeth, and went to have breakfast.

As she ate the meal Melanie had made, her sister sat beside her and pulled out a plastic bag.

Sam looked at it curiously, hoping it was something edible, but she was disappointed when Melanie started taking out hair products, special skin soaps, and other self-care items. Melanie began explaining in detail how to use each one, and Sam decided to pay attention. Knowing her twin, if she didn't understand it the first time, Melanie would explain it all from the beginning—twenty times if necessary. And that would definitely waste time.

This is going to be a long day, Sam thought as she took another bite of salami.

---

Half an hour after taking a shower and using the skincare products her sister lent her, both girls were ready to head out. Sam grabbed her phone and some cash, while Melanie carried a purse over her shoulder, along with the bags filled with hair products and other items Sam would be using later.

They walked through the neighborhood streets, one behind the other. Sam followed her twin at a slow pace, not particularly eager to start a conversation. Melanie, for her part, didn't seem too interested in talking either—she only paused briefly to hand Sam one of the heavier bags. Sam took it without complaint. Her sister shot her a curious glance, but Sam didn't notice, lost in her own thoughts.

When they finally stopped, Sam looked up, expecting to see a beauty salon or a photography studio, but all she saw was a house. It wasn't particularly big or small—just the right size, and it was obvious from a mile away how well-maintained it was.

Melanie stepped through the open gate as naturally as if she were walking into her own home (just like Sam did at Carly's apartment) and headed for the front door. Sam followed in silence, her eyes scanning the place with mild curiosity and boredom. Melanie rang the doorbell, and within seconds, a voice responded from inside. The door swung open immediately, revealing a girl with sleek black hair who, upon seeing Melanie, let out an excited squeal. Her sister responded with the same energy, and the two of them hugged affectionately.

Questions flew back and forth—" How have you been? Everything good with the scholarship?"—and answers followed just as quickly: "Yeah, I'm doing my best to keep up, but what about you? Anything new?" You get the idea.

Sam watched the scene with a blank expression, but she couldn't help feeling out of place. It reminded her of that time Missy showed up at Carly's house, and the two of them talked with that same over-the-top enthusiasm that made Sam feel invisible. But this black-haired girl seemed different—more genuine, kinder. Besides, Melanie would never hang around someone who wasn't a good person... at least, not outside the family.

Instead of paying attention to the conversation, Sam distracted herself by observing her surroundings. The house had that classic American style, with a small fenced-in yard that looked straight out of a postcard. Neatly placed benches sat among the flowerbeds, and a double swing hung from a tree, adding a dreamlike touch to the place. Everything was spotless—from the vibrant flower-filled garden to the entrance, decorated with subtle details that made the whole place feel warm and inviting.

Melanie had a point—this place would be perfect for pictures, way better than any makeshift corner at home or some boring spot at school.

"It's nice, isn't it?"

It took Sam a few seconds to realize her sister was talking to her.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied, not particularly enthusiastic about the idea.

"It'll be perfect for you and your dance date to take pictures later, once everything's ready, of course," the other girl added with a friendly smile. "I'm Jessica Johnson, by the way, but you can call me Jessie." She held out her hand.

"Sam Puckett," Sam answered, making no move to shake hands. It wasn't necessary—she was sure Jessie already knew who she was, either through Melanie or the show.

Jessica—or Jessie—didn't seem offended by her distant attitude. Instead, she warmly invited them inside. Once in, she offered them something to eat and drink, which Sam accepted without hesitation. Jessie explained that they'd have to wait a bit, since her mom—the one who handled "the big work"—was busy with other clients. In about fifteen minutes, she'd be free to help them.

Sam didn't pay much attention to the details. Normally, she'd have complained or tried to come up with some way to entertain herself, but right now, she just wasn't in the mood. While Melanie and Jessie continued chatting and sharing stories in the living room, Sam kept herself occupied by watching a cartoon on TV.

Every now and then, she glanced over at the two of them. She wasn't a fan of overly cheerful people, but she couldn't deny there was something solid and real about their friendship. For a moment, she wondered if Carly and she would have the same kind of emotional reunion if they ever had to part ways. Or would they just go their separate paths, letting distance turn them into strangers?

Feeling uneasy, she quickly pushed those thoughts aside. There was no point worrying about something that clearly wasn't going to happen—not if Freddie and she had anything to say about it, like that time she almost moved to Yakima or when she had the chance to go to that fancy private school. She smirked at the memory. Those were some rare moments when she and Freddie had schemed together. Long before he started liking her, or before she saw him as anything other than "the nerdy weakling who drooled over Carly."

Which, by the way, he wasn't anymore.

He was still a little weaker than most guys, and definitely weaker than her, but he didn't pine after Carly anymore—he wanted her. He liked her just as she was, flaws and all. Or at least, that's what she liked to believe, especially after everything he had said and done to prove his feelings were real.

Okay. Maybe watching cartoons wasn't enough to shut her thoughts, Sam realized, feeling slightly embarrassed by where her mind had wandered. Not that it was bad to feel this way, but she still wasn't used to acknowledging her emotions so often—especially when she'd spent most of her life trying to avoid them.

How did other people manage to deal with their feelings so naturally?

Deciding she needed a different distraction, she pulled out her phone. Among Carly's messages, she found several about post-dance plans. Carly mentioned she'd be going to "Groovy Smoothie" with her date and asked if Freddie and Sam wanted to join them.

Wouldn't that technically be a double date? Sam wondered as she read the message. But she didn't bring it up to Carly, nor did she dwell on it.

Checking her chat with Freddie, she noticed two messages from him that morning. One was his usual "Good morning," and the other simply said, "Everything okay?"

It could have passed as a casual greeting, but Sam knew better—he was probably asking if she was handling the whole dance thing alright. And honestly, she wasn't feeling bad or even all that nervous. Just a little... unquiet from the waiting.

Ignoring the odd flutter in her stomach, Sam replied to his messages, filling him in on everything. She also told him where she was, using the same explanation Melanie had given her. She asked Melanie and Jessie for the house's address and wrote it down, adding a description of what it looked like from the outside.

While waiting for his response, she set her phone aside and tried to focus on the cartoon again.

.

.

.

She couldn't. Even though she didn't want to admit it, something was bothering her. She didn't want a repeat of last time—getting all dressed up just for a guy (ugh), only to end up feeling uncomfortable in her own skin. But she kept telling herself that this time would be different. The difference was that, even without all those fancy beauty products on her, Freddie would still see her for who she was. She was sure of it.

She wondered what he was doing at that moment. Was he studying? Watching TV? Or, just like her, was he wondering what she was up to?

She picked up her phone again and checked her messages. Nothing yet. Her eyes lingered on the call button for a few seconds. Before she could overthink it, she got up from the couch, walked to the garden, and dialed Freddie's number.

The first time, he didn't pick up. Nor the second. But on the third try, she finally heard his voice on the other end.

"Sam? Didn't expect you to call me now. Is everything okay?"

Sam smiled, feeling the nervousness in her chest start to fade away.

"No. I just wanted to..." hear your voice, talk to you for a bit, "...see if you read my messages from earlier."

"I just grabbed my phone to answer your call, so I haven't checked anything yet. Is it important?"

"Not really," she said, plopping onto a swing in the garden. "It's just that Melanie booked me an appointment at her friend's mom's beauty salon. Don't ask me why, I have no clue. And no, I didn't ask for it because of the ankle swear I made with Carly. Anyway, now I'm stuck at her friend's place waiting for my turn. And apparently, we're gonna be here all afternoon because, according to Melanie, this place has better spots for taking pictures."

"Uh, I see. Want me to bring my camera?"

"No need. Her friend's mom also runs a photography business, so she probably has more than enough equipment."

"That... sounds nice, I guess. But don't you think all of this is a little too convenient? It's like Melanie had it all planned out beforehand."

"That's what I thought too, but apparently not. She says she did them a favor a while back, and now her friend just wants to return it. So, I think we're getting the salon and the photos for free."

"Well, lucky us, I guess."

"Lucky? That's all you have to say?"

"...I can't think of anything clever or a bad joke right now," Freddie admitted. "But I do want to ask you something—are you actually okay with all this?"

"With the photos here? Yeah, I don't see why not. The place looks decent. Maybe I'll send you a picture later so you can see the outside and all."

"I didn't mean that. I'm talking about all this makeup and getting ready thing. I know you're not really into that stuff. And even if you made a deal with Carly... I don't want you to feel like you have to do it just because."

"If I could, I'd skip it. I don't want to feel like a doll, like that one time I got all dressed up to go out with Peter. It was... uncomfortable," she admitted. "But I also don't want to chicken out and run from it."

"I don't think you'd be a chicken if you decided not to do it," Freddie replied. "And honestly? I don't really care whether you dress up or not. As long as we can have fun together, that's enough for me."

Sam slowly rocked back and forth on the swing, a small smile creeping onto her face.

And that kindness is just another thing I like about you, she thought... or at least, she thought she had only thought it.

"Uh... thanks for... it's nice to hear that," Freddie said, sounding a little hesitant.

Sam froze, her smile vanishing as a deep blush spread across her face.

"Did I just say that out loud?" she asked, covering her mouth with her hand.

Oh, man. Thinking cheesy thoughts was one thing, but saying them? That was a whole other level of embarrassing. Good thing she hadn't blurted out anything about that time she imagined herself as Cinderella and Freddie as her prince.

Wait. Did that make Melanie her fairy godmother in this situation?

"Yeah. But if you want, I can pretend I didn't hear it," Freddie offered, snapping her back to reality.

She let out a sigh of relief, even though she still felt like an idiot.

"Please do."

"I'll just lock those words away in a chest in my heart, toss the key into the depths of the ocean, and never speak of it again" he finished.

"Now you come up with lame lines, huh, Romeo?" she shot back, rolling her eyes—though her cheeks were still warm.

"Only when my Juliet inspires me," he teased, the smile in his voice obvious.

"Stop it, " she chuckled. A short silence followed before she remembered the other thing she wanted to tell him. "I almost forgot to tell you the other thing, thanks to your nonsense."

"Tell me what?"

"Carly asked if we wanted to go to Crazy Shakes after the dance. You, me, her, and her date."

"Wouldn't that be a double date?"

"It might look that way, but Carly probably just sees it as hanging out with her maybe-boyfriend and her two friends. But anyway—do you want to go?"

"Sure, why not? Though... if you want, we could do something else. Like, I don't know, go to the movies. Or we could have dinner together, take a romantic stroll under the moonlight..."

"I don't think so. I'm sure that once the dance is over, I'll probably just want to pass out. And if you make a joke about waking me up with a kiss like in fairy tales, I swear I'll—"

"Sorry to interrupt, but it's time to go, Sam," a voice said behind her.

Sam turned her head to see Melanie standing there with the other girl—whose name she'd already forgotten—holding several shopping bags.

"Okay," she replied before bringing the phone back to her ear. "Gotta go."

"Alright. Catch you later."

---

Sam followed Melanie and the other girl to the salon, which was right next to the house. Everything seemed fine until they stepped inside. In that instant, Sam felt a shift in the atmosphere, as if she had suddenly been transported into a different world. It no longer felt like real life but rather the set of a movie where she, unexpectedly, was the main character about to experience her iconic "makeover moment."

"Are you ready?"

Sam looked at her twin. She was nervous, sure, but her conversation with Freddie had given her a boost of confidence. So, she nodded and, for the first time since their reunion, returned Melanie's smile with a more assured expression. Melanie raised her eyebrows, momentarily surprised, but quickly regained her composure. With excitement, she led Sam to the chair where she was supposed to sit and then turned to her friend.

Taking advantage of the fact that the chair could spin, Sam gave it a little turn and found herself facing a screen. Jes—was it Jeslyn? Yeah, Jes—was putting something on the TV. It looked like a movie, maybe a musical. Noticing Sam watching her, Jes offered a calm smile and shrugged.

"Just to cheer things up a bit," she said, offering no further explanation.

A minute later, Mrs. Johnson appeared, carrying an armful of tools and supplies, fully focused on her work. That was a relief—Sam wasn't in the mood for small talk.

Melanie showed a picture of Sam's outfit, and the four of them discussed the best styling options. However, most of the final decisions were left between Sam and Mrs. Johnson—what kind of hairstyle she wanted, whether she was willing to trim it a little, if she preferred curls or straight hair, and other details. As for the makeup, just as Melanie had promised, Sam got to choose the option she liked best and felt most comfortable with.

---

A couple of hours later, Sam was all set. Her curly hair looked great, her face was made up with tones that highlighted her natural beauty, and her outfit, from the dress to the shoes, fit perfectly. She even had her nails painted with polish matching the color of her dress.

Everything was in harmony, but the best part was how she felt: confident, beautiful, and true to herself. She wasn't a doll someone had dressed up to their liking, nor was she trying to imitate Carly's sweet and delicate style or copy Melanie. She was Sam Puckett, a strong girl with a unique beauty, able to be cute and charming in her own way without losing a bit of her essence.

The door to the room swung open suddenly, and Melanie appeared with her usual enthusiastic vibe. After helping her with the final touches, she had gone off to... well, Sam couldn't exactly remember where. She had been too absorbed in admiring her reflection in the mirror to pay attention.

"You look stunning!" Melanie exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she approached with a proud smile. "I knew everything would look great on you, but I never imagined you'd go beyond the boundaries of beauty!"

Sam laughed, not so much because of her sister's words— which reminded her of Freddie's cheesy lines—but because of the way Melanie started walking around her, inspecting her like she was a masterpiece, bouncing excitedly with each little step.

"I really love it!" Melanie continued, clapping her hands in excitement. "But tell me, how do you feel? Do you like everything? Is there something you want to change? Do you think the boots have too much heel? We can still switch them."

"Nope, I'm good this way," Sam replied with determination, glancing at her reflection again with a satisfied smile. "I love it all, especially the shoes. They're so perfect that you'll probably never see them again."

"I figured you'd say that, so consider them my gift."

"Seriously?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "But they look expensive, and I'm sure you really like them."

Though she had joked (or maybe not) about keeping them, she didn't expect her twin to accept so easily. No one could be that kind.

Melanie nodded in response, showing Sam that maybe, just maybe, there were people like that.

"I'll get more later. Besides, I was going to buy you a gift yesterday, but since I helped out, I don't know, consider it your gift if you want."

"I will. Thanks."

"Anytime. That's what sisters are for."

Sam looked back at the mirror while Melanie, adjusting her earring, admired her own reflection. Though it seemed like there was nothing else to say, Sam felt that a simple "thanks" wasn't enough. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, and with a bit more confidence but, most importantly, sincerity, she turned back to her twin.

"I'm not just talking about the shoes or the compliment," she said finally. Melanie stopped looking at herself and glanced at her with curiosity. "I'm talking about all of this: helping me choose, staying here while I get ready, making sure I feel comfortable... I didn't ask for any of this, and I don't think I've done anything to deserve it. But thank you, really. I owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything. I... know we don't always get along because we're so different and tend to clash a lot, but that doesn't matter to me. I just want to help you because you're my sister, and you mean a lot to me. And if a pair of shoes makes you happy, then giving them to you is nothing. I can always get another pair later."

"Oh..." Sam could barely respond, touched by her words. "Okay, I know you said no, but if you ever change your mind and need something, you know where to find me."

Melanie raised an eyebrow mischievously.

"At Carly's house or in Freddie's arms?"

The blush that spread across Sam's cheeks almost matched the color of her dress.

"You know exactly what I meant!" Sam protested, trying to chase after her, but the low-heeled boots betrayed her. Melanie took the opportunity to run to the door, laughing heartily.

Unable to run, Sam grabbed a pillow from the bed and, with perfect aim, threw it at her. Melanie tripped in the hallway and fell to the floor, bursting into laughter. Sam couldn't help but laugh, too.

Yeah, her sister was weird, but she wouldn't change her for anything.

---

Later, both of them headed down to the living room. Sam was greeted with compliments from Jessie (she had finally learned her name after hearing it several times) and Mrs. Johnson. They chatted for a while until Melanie suggested that Sam take some photos around the house while they waited for Freddie.

Sam agreed—it sounded like a reasonable idea. In no time, Melanie, Jessie, and Mrs. Johnson set up a mini photoshoot in the living room. Mrs. Johnson took photos of her and gave her various instructions, while Melanie and Jessie proposed poses, and Sam improvised a few spontaneously. Surprisingly, the experience wasn't as awkward as she had feared. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if Freddie were behind the camera, with his silly comments and throwing around technical terms only he understood.

Johnson called her attention back to the present, and Sam forced herself to focus. But deep down, she could hardly wait to see him.

---

A few hours earlier, Freddie had gone through a situation similar to Sam's.

Let's rewind a little.

His day had started, as usual, with his mom waking him up with children's songs as if he were a four-year-old, followed by a full rundown on proper hygiene and a "nutritious" breakfast that only left him hungrier. After that, she left him some money, said goodbye, and headed to work. Freddie wished her a great day and waited about ten minutes before slipping out to grab some food so he could make himself a decent breakfast.

Once he had accomplished that mission and eaten properly, he tackled his chores and got ahead on several school assignments. However, he made zero progress on the one he had to do with Sam. He decided he'd try to convince her another day to work on their group project together, like some kind of "study date."

Even though he tried to take things easy and not stress about the time, Freddie couldn't stop himself from checking the clock every twenty minutes. He was feeling a little anxious about the dance. Not because he didn't want to go, but because he really wanted everything to go well—most of all, he wanted him and Sam to have fun.

At some point in the late morning, probably between eleven and twelve, his phone rang. The first time, he didn't hear it because he was too busy watching dance videos on his laptop. By the second ring, he had noticed the sound and got up from the couch to look for it. By the third, he finally picked up—surprised to see it was Sam.

The conversation was brief, but it managed to both boost his excitement and crank up his nerves. Excitement because he could hardly wait to see Sam and have a great time together, and nerves because he feared something might go wrong. He didn't want their feelings for each other to be too obvious or for Sam to feel uncomfortable about how she looked. That's why he told her clearly that he really didn't care how she looked, as long as she was comfortable that night. He also added a few of his usual "lines" to make her laugh, but unfortunately, they couldn't keep talking because she had to leave. Even so, Freddie wasn't discouraged, knowing the event was drawing closer.

Time flew by, and before he knew it, it was time to get ready. He went through his getting-ready routine with more care than usual; using the best soap and shampoo he had. Then he dried his hair and glanced at the selection of colognes and lotions he had. Among them was the vanilla-scented lotion he had used that day Sam had been loopy from the dentist's gas.

He didn't overthink it and dabbed a little on before heading back to his room, taking small steps to delay the moment of putting on the suit his mom had bought him.

And now, you might be thinking, "But Freddie, why don't you just get dressed at the Shays' apartment?" Well, it wasn't that simple. His mom had said she'd be leaving work early to "help him get ready" and take pictures. That meant he'd have to wear the suit at least once to keep her happy before heading out.

Or maybe not? His mom hadn't arrived yet, so he might still have a chance to avoid her.

He dressed quickly, grabbed the essentials, and made his way to the door. But just as his hand touched the doorknob, the apartment door swung open and there was his mom.

"I thought I wasn't going to make it on time! Let's get you cleaned up, Freddie, it's too late for you to be still getting ready," his mom announced as she hurried in, organizing her things in the living room.

"That's not necessary, Mom, I already took a shower, and yes, I followed all the steps like I always do," he added, noticing how she was inspecting him to check if he'd cleaned himself properly, which was a bit (very) embarrassing. "I just need to change, but tell me, do I really have to wear that thing? It's so ridiculous."

"You shouldn't speak like that about the country of your date," she scolded him with a disapproving look.

"But it's not a cultural festival or a convention, it's just a regular dance. I don't think it's appropriate to wear something like that."

"All the more reason I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture. She'll probably be really excited to see you like that," Marissa argued with a confident smile. Her expression softened with a touch of tenderness and concern. "Are you going to pick her up at her house?"

"Sort of."

"And have you been there before? I can drive you there and take pictures too."

"I don't think that's a good idea. She's really... shy."

Marissa watched him for a moment before sighing, resigned.

"Okay, but you still need to wear the suit. I'll help you get dressed."

"I don't need help, Mom. I can do it myself."

After insisting for a few more minutes, she finally left him alone. Freddie exhaled in relief. He loved his mom, but sometimes—well, most of the time—she was just way too much.

He put on the suit quickly, not even looking in the mirror, and went out for his mom to evaluate the result. While he had nothing against the culture of his imaginary date, it bothered him that his mom thought it looked cute when the suit was a cheap imitation, not something authentic.

"Oh, my little Fredward, you look amazing! Now, strike a pose, so Mom can take some pictures."

Freddie did so reluctantly.

"Are you sure I can't go with you?" she asked when he finished, almost pleading.

"One hundred percent sure," Freddie replied firmly. "I don't think she—correction, I don't think he—would feel comfortable with that."

Marissa sighed again, but let it go. Gently, she stroked his cheeks before placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Okay. Just remember: you look fantastic. Don't let anyone's opinion ruin your night."

"Thanks, Mom," Freddie said, this time with a more genuine smile.

She hugged him warmly, kissed him on the forehead, and gently pushed him toward the door.

"Hurry up, or you'll be late."

Just as Freddie was about to leave, his mom called him again.

"Wait! I almost forgot to give you this."

Freddie turned around to see her holding a small bouquet of perfectly arranged red roses.

"I know you've been busy and didn't have time to buy something for your date, so I did it for you. I hope she likes it."

Freddie took the bouquet, surprised. It was pretty and, to his relief, it didn't have any thorns—a practical detail, considering Sam was more likely to use it as a weapon than to put it in a vase.

"Thanks, Mom. You didn't have to do that."

"Of course I did. You know I'd do anything for you, my beautiful boy," she replied, smiling with pride. "I know it's small, but I hope she likes it. Just explain to her that it's a thank-you for the invitation, and if anything else comes up between you two, you'll know how to handle it, right?"

Freddie smiled, genuinely moved.

"Sure. Thanks again."

"It's nothing. Now hurry up, or you'll be late. And have fun!"

"I will," Freddie replied, raising his hand in a farewell gesture before walking out the door, still holding the bouquet.

---

Since Freddie knew his mom would follow him to the elevator, he headed there and waited for a few minutes before going out the other entrance to the Shay's apartment. When he arrived, he found Spencer lounging on the couch, watching cartoons. He raised an eyebrow, surprised. Normally, Spencer was busy creating something new, not watching TV. But he didn't dwell on it and decided to move on.

"I'm going to change in your room, like we agreed," he said to Spencer, who simply nodded without taking his eyes off the screen.

But just as Freddie was heading toward the room, he heard Carly's voice calling him.

"Freddie? What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too, Carly," he replied with a sheepish laugh, turning around.

"Save the greetings for another day. Tell me, why are you dressed like that? Did you come from a costume party or something?" Carly asked, clearly amused, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. According to my mom, this suit and the flowers are what's appropriate for going to the dance with the 'foreign girl I invited,'" Freddie explained. Seeing Carly's confused look, he added, "I made her up so she wouldn't know I'm going with Sam."

"That makes sense. But are you really going to wear that to the dance or...?"

"Definitely not. I'm going to change in Spencer's room with the clothes I left here yesterday," he said. Then, he smiled playfully as he noticed his friend was wearing a fuchsia pink towel with white flower prints and a hair net. "And I guess you're getting ready too."

"Yes, I was, but I got hungry and decided to eat something before getting dressed. Do you want something? I think we still have cookies."

"No, I'm good. I prefer to leave room in my stomach. I'm sure Sam and I will be near the food table for a long time, and it'd be hard to keep up afterward."

"I can imagine, although, just between us, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't let you eat much anyway," Carly jokes, and he laughed along with her. Yep, that was his Sammy: a very adorable bottomless pit. "So, are you guys meeting at school, or will you pick her up?"

"The second, but not at her house, at one of Melanie's friend's house."

"What? Melanie's in Seattle?" Carly asked excitedly. "Wait, I thought you didn't believe she existed."

"That's how it was, until yesterday, when we ran into her at the mall while we were getting the stuff we needed. Long story," Freddie explained. "The rest, either she or Sam can tell you later. Right now, I don't have much time."

"Okay. We'll talk later then."

"Yeah. Hope your date goes well."

"Thanks. Same to you. Just try not to kill each other before you get there."

Freddie just laughed, and as he headed to Spencer's room, he thought to himself. Alright, time to get to work.

---

Inside the taxi, Freddie's anxiety grew with every meter the car closed in on the address Sam had sent him. He felt a growing knot in his stomach, and no matter how much he tried to calm himself, his hands kept nervously drumming on his legs. Unable to stay still, he checked his appearance in the rearview mirror once more. He made sure his hair was perfectly styled, and his outfit looked flawless, but it wasn't enough to quell his anxiety.

When his reflected image showed a tense version of himself, he began to imagine all the things that could go wrong: What if I trip? What if she doesn't like the flowers? What if this whole dance thing turns out to be a huge mistake? Maybe we should've gone somewhere else for our date...

Trying to predict solutions to these made-up problems only fueled his anxiety further. By the time the taxi stopped, his heart was beating so fast it felt like it might burst out of his chest. With hands that barely remained steady, he paid the driver and stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself. He managed to compose himself enough to walk like a normal person—and not with legs shaking like jelly—toward the front door. The only things he had with him were his phone, his wallet, and the bouquet of roses for Sam.

He didn't stop to admire the neighborhood or the house, though he vaguely remembered from Sam's descriptions that it was supposed to be a cozy place. His mind was too busy wrestling with his thoughts to take in any details around him.

Focus, he told himself, locking his eyes on the doorbell in front of him.

He took another deep breath, reached out, and pressed the button. As he waited, he started shifting his weight from one foot to the other, unable to stand still. From inside the house, he could hear voices and murmurs, but they were too faint to make out any words.

Just as he was about to ring the doorbell again, the door finally opened, revealing a girl whose face was completely unfamiliar to him.

"No way! Are you that nerdy guy from iCarly? Freddie?" she asked, her voice full of surprise and enthusiasm.

"The one and only," he replied with a shy smile. "Uh... Is this the house where Sam and Melanie are?"

"Yep, this is the place. They're waiting for you in our living room," she confirmed with a warm smile, gesturing for him to come in. "By the way, I'm Jessica, but you can call me Jessie. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," he responded politely, following Jessica inside.

Now that he was in, his thoughts finally settled, shifting toward his surroundings.

Everything in the house was impeccably arranged. Every piece of furniture looked carefully chosen, the walls displayed beautifully framed artwork, and the small decorative touches—like vases with fresh flowers and scented candles—gave the place a warm, inviting feel. He could now see why Melanie had suggested meeting here.

Freddie was so absorbed in taking in every detail that he didn't even realize they had reached the living room until Jessica stopped and gestured ahead with a slight smile.

The first thing that caught his attention was a woman standing in the center of the room, fiddling with a handheld video camera. Melanie was standing beside her, her gaze fixed on another entrance to the room.

"Hey, Melanie," he greeted, stopping next to her.

"Freddie! I'm so glad you made it here safely," Melanie said, turning toward him with a radiant smile, then pulled him into a friendly hug. "Oh, but look at you. You look so handsome, and believe me, I don't just say that to anyone, okay?" she added with a little laugh.

Freddie couldn't help but smile. Her joy was contagious.

"Thanks. I wouldn't be looking like this if it weren't for your great eye for these things. You were a huge help."

"It's just clothes. It's not a big deal," she insisted, brushing it off casually as she turned her attention back to the opening that seemed to lead to another part of the house.

Curious, Freddie also looked in that direction.

"So, what are they doing now?" he asked quietly. The woman holding the camera, who now seemed similar to Jessica (Could she be her mom?), appeared very focused, and he didn't want to disturb her by making noise.

"We were doing a kind of photo session while we waited for you," Melanie replied in the same soft tone. "But since we've already taken a lot of Sam, Jessica thought it'd be fun to film a little video of her and... Look, I think they're about to start!"

Freddie glanced back at the woman, who was now moving to another part of the house. Melanie followed her and gestured for him to do the same.

As they crossed the threshold, Freddie found himself in a much larger room. The furniture was sparse but strategically placed, as if the space were designed for special occasions, maybe family gatherings or small celebrations. The floor gleamed under the soft light of the lamps, giving the room a warm, inviting feel. There was also an elegant staircase leading up to the upper rooms, with a perfectly polished railing. Discreet paintings hung on the walls, and the windows flooded the room with natural light, adding a serene glow.

Every detail in the home spoke of care and good taste. Freddie couldn't help but wonder if, when he grew up with a stable job and a good savings account, he'd have a home like this—cozy, beautiful, and spacious. A place he could share with his own family. He also wondered if he'd ever be able to take on the role and responsibility of being the head of a household.

Before he could dive deeper into those thoughts, the woman's voice snapped him out of his daydream, confusing him in the process.

"In three, two... Now, Samantha!" the woman with the video camera announced.

Instinctively, he turned his gaze toward the stairs, expecting Sam to descend like in the movies. However, his surprise was immense when he heard firm footsteps behind him instead. For a moment, he thought it was Melanie, but she was still beside him, and Jessica was standing next to her mom. So, he turned around and time, for him, simply stopped.

It was Sam.

Okay, he acknowledged it—that was a pretty ridiculous observation because, of course, it was her. Who else would it be?

But it wasn't her presence that had shaken him to the core. It was how... beautiful, radiant, stunning, dazzling, enchanting she looked. Wow. A thousand adjectives paraded through his mind one after another, yet none of them felt enough to describe how breathtaking Sam looked at that moment. Or ever. Because these days, she barely had to do anything for him to be utterly amazed by how incredible she was.

She continued walking toward the stairs, and Freddie, unable to tear his gaze away, found himself captivated by every little detail of her appearance. The red dress paired perfectly with the black jacket, matching leggings, and low-heeled black boots. She also had a black wristband on the hand she had injured the other day, but it didn't look out of place. On the contrary, it suited her perfectly.

Sam stopped on the stairs, posing gracefully as she looked over at Jessica, who was snapping a photo of her. At that moment, with a gentle tilt of her neck, she swept her hair back, and he noticed that she was wearing earrings—or were they hoops? He couldn't be certain because of the distance between them, but one thing he was sure of was that they really accentuated her hairstyle.

And to be honest with himself, Freddie feared that, just like when Carly helped her become more feminine, Sam would have once again opted for a style that left her hair straight and... a bit boring for her. Fortunately, that wasn't the case this time. On the contrary, her hair looked more vibrant than ever, with perfectly defined golden curls that fell freely over her shoulders and back. It looked a bit shorter than usual, but he figured that was characteristic of that kind of cut, and the result was simply splendid. That style only served to enhance the beauty of her face—which... Did she have makeup?

He blinked a couple of times, thinking his eyes had played tricks on him. When he opened them, he realized he hadn't been mistaken. Sam did wear makeup. It was the kind that doesn't shout for attention—not the kind that girls like Carly or Melanie would wear, no, nothing like that. It was simple, delicate, so subtle that it almost looked natural. Her cheeks were lightly tinted with just the right amount of blush; maybe she had a bit of powder and eyeshadow here and there. He couldn't say for sure—he wasn't an expert in those things, and she was still at a considerable distance. The only thing that really stood out on her face—and something Freddie couldn't understand how he hadn't noticed before—was the red lipstick adorning her lips. But it wasn't too intense, so it fit perfectly.

Nothing she wore was out of place.

Everything about her fit together so perfectly that it was almost hard to explain. Because, let's be honest, whenever the name "Sam" was paired with the word "dress" in the same sentence, the result was usually a girl who, although pretty, just wasn't truly her.

But this time, that wasn't the case at all.

This time, Sam didn't just look pretty—she radiated a beauty that went far beyond the superficial one she'd shown that time with Pete. She looked beautiful, yes, but also strong, serene, and above all, utterly confident and comfortable in her own skin.

And, contrary to what anyone might expect, she didn't look the least bit uncomfortable while posing. On the contrary, she seemed completely in her element. She didn't even wait for the photographer's directions—she moved ahead, shifting her posture with such effortless ease that it felt like she was born to be in front of a camera.

Okay, maybe he was getting a little carried away.

It was more likely that Sam already had some experience. During their second date at his house, she mentioned that her mom had signed her up for all kinds of activities when she was little. Perhaps "photo shoots" had been one of them. That would also explain how she handled cameras so well and knew exactly how to move in front of them—something she had always shown on iCarly.

Meanwhile, Freddie could only regret not having a camera at that very moment. Sure, he trusted that the photographer knew what she was doing, but it just wasn't the same. There was something about that image, about the way Sam carried herself, that he wanted to capture with his own eyes—from his own perspective. He'd have to settle for the photos they'd get later. But once he had them, he would make sure to keep them safe. Possibly even store them in a special photo album. Or, who knows, maybe even frame one...

"And... done! You can come down now, Samantha."

As if that had been a cue for him, Freddie snapped out of his daze. It was like he had been lost in a scene straight out of a romance movie—one of those where time slows down and everything else fades away. He only truly came back to reality at that moment, and a rush of heat spread across his face when he realized what had just happened. Jessica and Melanie had probably caught him staring in silence, which was more than a little embarrassing.

Right then, as if reading his thoughts, he felt a light tap on his left shoulder. It was Melanie.

She's definitely going to tease me for staring so much, he thought, embarrassed. Although... it probably only lasted a few seconds for them.

"Go help her. I don't think she's used to wearing those boots yet," Melanie suggested, her expression more serious than he had expected. "I told her she should change them, but she refused. Still, it'd be good if you gave her a hand."

"Yeah."

Without another word, he turned his gaze toward the stairs. Just as Melanie had said, Sam had started making her way down, taking slow, careful steps. Her expression had returned to something more neutral, but Freddie could tell she was just trying to hide how much effort it took to keep her balance.

So, with the bouquet of roses still in his hand, he gathered his courage and walked toward her, feeling both determined and nervous at the same time.

As soon as he moved, Sam noticed. When she saw him approaching, her face showed a flicker of surprise—perhaps the same look Freddie had worn when he first saw her. But instead of saying anything, she just watched him silently.

"Would you grant me the honor of escorting you to the lower floor?" he murmured, extending his hand toward her, nerves still on edge. He had no idea why he spoke like that—it was just the first thing that came out of his mouth.

She didn't answer right away, and that only made him more anxious. Had he done something wrong? Maybe he'd been too formal? He thought Sam might play along, but instead, she stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity. The unease in his chest threatened to grow, but Freddie wasn't one to back down so easily. Probably she was just as nervous as he was.

Trying to ease the tension, he tilted his head slightly, looking at her with warmth and affection.

"Would you do me the honor, princess?" he asked again. "Please?"

Those words—so simple, so corny, and yet so genuinely heartfelt—seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she had fallen into. As if waking from a dream, she blinked and met his gaze.

"Why, Fredward," she finally spoke in a soft whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, "I find no reason within me to decline such a kind request from you."

She concluded that polite sentence with a smile that held not even the slightest hint of mockery toward him. Quite the opposite! Sam looked at him with genuine happiness (and was that admiration?) as she took the hand he offered. And for a fleeting second, Freddie truly felt like a prince escorting his princess.

Of course, that was a thought he would never share with Sam. It was one thing to entertain such ideas in his mind, and a completely different one to say them out loud. She would definitely burst into laughter, calling him cheesy beyond repair before moving on to another topic. Which, he reflected, would still be a much kinder reaction than what she'd have if they weren't a couple or didn't like each other.

Now's not the time to think about that, he reminded himself, briefly brushing his thumb over Sam's hand before gently leading her forward.

Together, they began descending the stairs, eyes locked on each other. The scene, in its perfect simplicity, could have easily been pulled straight from a romance movie... though reality wasted no time bringing him back down to earth. He had barely taken a couple of steps when he slightly miscalculated and stumbled on the edge of a stair, completely breaking the moment's atmosphere.

Needless to say, a chorus of feminine laughter erupted in the room, starting with Sam herself.

Freddie didn't get upset or flustered. Instead, he chuckled along with her. Who cared if he had tripped and made a fool of himself? If his Sammy was happy, so was he.

"You were supposed to help me. Great job, Romeo," Sam teased, gripping the stair railing as she tried to steady herself.

"It was just a little slip! I didn't do it on purpose," he protested with a slightly embarrassed smile.

"I know." She looked up at him again, this time with a much softer and more affectionate expression—one that nearly knocked the air out of his lungs. "Come on, let's try again. But this time, I'm holding onto your arm. So, move a little closer."

Freddie adjusted himself so it would be easier for her to link her arm with his. With more care this time, they resumed their descent, paying attention to each step to avoid further mishaps.

"Hold it right there!" someone called out when they were halfway down the stairs. It was the photographer, who was now watching them with a satisfied smile while adjusting her camera lens. "Would you mind if I take a few more pictures here? The lighting is perfect."

Freddie, a bit taken aback by the interruption, turned to Sam for her approval.

"Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, I've been doing this for a while anyway," she replied with a shrug. Then she pointed to something near him. "Are you going to pose with that or...?"

Sam's finger pointed to the bouquet of roses he had forgotten he was holding in the other hand. Apparently, today was the day he'd be forgetting quite a few things, like how to function like a normal human being around Sam.

"No. I... Actually, they're for you," he confessed shyly, feeling a little foolish for forgetting. He offered the gift in silence, hoping she'd like the gesture.

Sam took the small bouquet delicately, first examining it with curiosity. Then she smiled, and that was all Freddie needed to almost completely relax.

"Thank you. It's really beautiful," she said finally, still gazing at the flowers. She looked so adorable smiling that way that Freddie had to do everything in his power not to hug her and kiss her with the same tenderness. "I'd say you didn't have to bother, but I know you won't listen, and you'll just keep giving me gifts, so..."

"Yeah, you know me too well."

The moment hung in the air, with both of them gazing at each other as if they were the only ones in the world. But it was Sam who broke the bubble this time, shifting her gaze to the rest of the room. There, Jessica and Melanie were whispering and giggling together, while the woman continued adjusting her camera.

Freddie looked at the photographer in confusion until he remembered why they were in this unfamiliar house. To take better pictures, not to flirt, of course.

"Don't look at me. Keep talking like before," the woman urged, her voice firm but kind.

"Wait. Have you already taken some photos?" Freddie realized. She nodded, checking something on her camera. "But we weren't even posing!"

"The more natural, the better. Spontaneity always captures the true essence," she replied. "Now, where would you like to take the rest of the photos? We have various options: the other room right here, the garden, the studio upstairs, or even a more elaborate set a few blocks away from here. You choose."

"I think it would be fine to start with the other room," Sam suggested calmly, her fingers absently playing with the bouquet of flowers she was still holding. "Is that okay with you, Freddie?"

"Yeah, sure."

And with that, everyone began walking toward the indicated room. Freddie assumed Sam would detach from him as soon as they were away from the stairs, especially with the others' gazes still on them. But, to his surprise, she didn't. She stayed close, her arm still intertwined with his, even though it wasn't necessary anymore. It was a gesture that felt so natural, so comfortable, that he allowed himself to enjoy it without questioning it.

Sam showed no intention of pulling away, and Freddie had no desire for her to do so either.

---

If Sam had been asked how she managed to keep her composure throughout the time the lady took photos, she would have answered that she had no idea.

From the moment she heard Freddie talking to Melanie, her nerves completely took over. She struggled to keep a neutral expression as she walked toward the stairs, striking the same poses and following the same instructions an instructor had taught her years ago when she still participated in beauty pageants.

And he wasn't helping much. He looked good. Too good. His shirt, the suit vest, his carefully styled hair, his face itself... Everything about him, like almost always, was flawless.

That made her even more uneasy. What if, in the end, she didn't look as good as she thought? She wanted to assume she did, thanks to the compliments from Melanie, Jessie, and Mrs. Johnson. Yet, a small part of her still wondered if, for once, she could be the center of attention, not for her tough character, but for her genuine beauty, without having to give up her essence.

That's why, when Mrs. Johnson called her, Sam took her time going down the stairs. Not because her boots were uncomfortable—if she had told Melanie she was fine, it was because she genuinely felt that way—but because the nerves overwhelmed her, reminding her that Freddie was waiting for her. So, she started down slowly, one step at a time, trying to delay the inevitable.

Until her boyfriend, as sweet as always, came up the stairs and asked if he could help her down, using those expressions that no other guy her age would ever use, especially not with her. Unless, of course, it was a tease. However, judging by the sincere and expectant look on his face, she doubted that was the case. Sure, they had joked like this before, but this time, she was sure it wasn't the same because... well, because it wasn't. Because this was starting to become part of him, of them, of the unique dynamic they called their relationship.

Still, Sam didn't answer right away. Not because she wanted to refuse or act distant, but because Freddie's proximity left her, for a second, breathless. The worst part was that she felt that one more word from him would be enough to make her emotions overwhelm her and send her running straight into his arms.

Just thinking about that scared her to death. She rarely let anyone have such control over her feelings, over her. But at the same time, she couldn't help but wish for everything to go well, because with each passing day, she found herself caring for him more and more.

No, that wasn't it. "Caring" wasn't the word she was looking for. Neither was "feeling," because that time in the nurse's office, she'd just been drawn to him, not understanding why. But after spending so much time together these past few weeks, Sam could feel the difference.

She also knew that with each passing day, she was falling for him just a little more.

And being aware of that was as beautiful as it was terrifying. What if she ruined everything? What if, in the end, it was all for nothing and they broke up? What if...?

"Would you do me the honor, princess?" he said then, bringing her back to reality. "Please?"

Looking into his brown eyes again, those eyes that gazed at her with so much affection, Sam felt her doubts fade into the back of her mind. Soon, her nerves were replaced by calm. Once again, she felt like a princess being welcomed by her prince, just like in the old fairy tales. A prince she may never have dreamed of having, but who she had the good fortune of knowing.

Sam accepted his invitation with such polite words that even her own mother would question if she was really her daughter. She didn't want to say anything rude or turn him down in front of others due to that unspoken contract they'd made. She just wanted to enjoy the moment by his side.

And she did, even though they both stumbled on the stairs, caught up in each other. Even though he, a little nervously, offered her a beautiful bouquet of roses. Even though they had to hold back their feelings while posing for pictures surrounded by others, Sam allowed herself to be a little more open with her emotions, at least during that afternoon and later that evening.

---

For the next half hour, they focused on taking pictures all around the house. Some were formal poses, others more spontaneous, and a few were even snapped without them realizing it.

Sam had to admit that after a while, she was already feeling exhausted. However, she didn't dare complain—not even once. After all, everyone there had put in so much effort for them when they really didn't have to. The least she could do was keep a positive attitude.

She and Freddie stayed close the whole time, but they didn't talk much. They just exchanged remarks like, "I think this looks good," or "Should I move in a little closer?"—always in a polite tone. Sam didn't really feel the need to be rude to him, not even for show in front of the others.

After some time, they finally took ALL the pictures, including the ones in the garden.

Sam enjoyed those last ones the most because there was fresh air outside, and she got to sit on the swing. Plus, according to Mrs. Johnson, it would make for a great picture if Freddie pushed her. Sam thought it was a good idea since she wanted to relax for a bit, so she went along with it. At first, Freddie struggled a little to get the swing going, but he eventually managed. Sam even genuinely praised him for it.

Once they were done, they went inside for a snack. Jessie and Melanie had prepared "something light" that wouldn't make a mess, which Sam appreciated. She knew Freddie would be more than willing to feed her himself just to keep that dress spotless, and honestly? She would've let him. Likewise, she didn't want it getting ruined so soon before even wearing it properly.

---

After finishing her snack, Sam went to the bathroom with Melanie so she could help her freshen up. This time, when her sister explained what she needed to do to keep her makeup intact, Sam actually listened. She also made sure to thank Melanie when she lent her a small black purse—one of those that look like tiny backpacks—so she could carry the makeup she had bought. Along with that, she packed a small water bottle and a little bag with pieces of ham.

Sam raised an eyebrow at the last item, but Melanie just said, "It's for the nerves."

"I'm not nervous," Sam insisted.

"Are you sure? Because the moment you saw him, you just stood there staring, completely frozen, until he said... whatever it was he said to you," Melanie pointed out. "Not that he was doing much better when he saw you, but you did look kind of nervous."

"Maybe I was... a little surprised, but I'm fine. Nothing's wrong."

"Really?" Melanie raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for a more honest answer.

Sam didn't respond. She didn't like voicing her self-doubts—not even to herself. She just wasn't built for that. It had already taken a lot for her to open up to Freddie, and they were close friends. Melanie was a different story. Despite being twins, they had never really connected, whether because of distance, their differences, or whatever else. The most they had ever done together was switch places to mess with people, but that had been ages ago. Sam was pretty sure that, during this visit alone, they had talked more than they had in their entire lives.

Let me put it this way: if they barely had regular conversations, how was she supposed to open up about something as personal as her insecurities?

Melanie seemed to understand her silence, and instead of getting upset or offended, she simply nodded, looking like the sweet and understanding sister Sam wasn't sure she deserved.

"It's okay, don't worry about it." Melanie smiled. This time, though, there was a hint of sadness in her expression, even though she was clearly trying to be understanding. "You don't have to say anything you don't want to. Just... try to relax a little, okay? I'm sure you two are going to have a great time together, so any thought that doesn't support that? Toss it out. Or, I don't know, write it down on a piece of paper and then tear it up if that helps."

"Yeah, I'll do that if I need to," Sam replied. "Thanks for everything. You've really helped us a lot. I know I already said this when we were in the room earlier, but... seriously, I owe you one."

"No need for favors, but... a hug wouldn't hurt," Melanie suggested a little hesitantly.

Out of habit, Sam almost refused, but in the end, she gave in.

"Just a quick one, okay?"

Melanie hugged her gently. Sam returned it, making an effort to at least show a little affection. When they pulled away, Melanie's eyes were slightly watery, but neither of them acknowledged it.

"What time is it?" Sam asked, eager to change the subject (and the mood).

"Let me check." Melanie glanced at the pink watch on her wrist, and her eyes widened. "Oh, no! I totally lost track of time! You guys are supposed to be leaving soon, and here I am, keeping you busy!"

Before Sam could say anything, Melanie went on, "Let me take a look at you... Makeup? Perfect. Hair? Stunning. And you? Absolutely gorgeous."

"Always," Sam muttered, feeling a little flustered by the compliments.

"Well then, what are you waiting for? Your prince is probably downstairs or out in the garden, waiting for you."

"He's not my prince," she mumbled, embarrassed.

"But he sure looked like one when he helped you down the stairs, didn't he?"

Sam didn't answer.

Melanie blinked.

Sam averted her gaze, and her twin's eyes widened in surprise.

"Wait... was that what made you freeze up?"

Alright. That was enough socializing with her sister for one day.

"Oops! Look at the time—I gotta go."

She rushed out of the bathroom as fast as her shoes would allow. She knew Melanie wasn't trying to tease her or anything, but she was officially out of energy for this kind of conversation. Not with her. Not with anyone.

As soon as she reached the living room and saw Melanie coming her way, she bolted for the front yard. There, she hid behind the thick tree that held up the old swing. Once she caught her breath, she scolded herself for reacting in such a foolish way.

"Sam?"

That was Freddie's voice. For a second, she wondered if he had followed her from the living room or if he had already been in the garden. Either way, it didn't really matter.

"Why are you...?"

Before he could say anything else, she grabbed his arm and pulled him in front of her, motioning for him to stay quiet. He nodded without question.

That's when they heard Melanie and Jessie's voices.

"Are you sure she's around here?" Jessie asked.

"Yeah... or at least I thought so. Maybe she hid somewhere else. I just hope she hasn't gone too far. They're both leaving soon, and I still have one more thing to give her."

Sam and Freddie exchanged confused looks.

Freddie raised an eyebrow, silently asking, did you know about this?

She shook her head, as if saying, Not a clue.

And she really didn't. Melanie had said Sam was more than ready, so what else could there be?

"She'll show up eventually."

"I hope so," Melanie sighed. "Hey, have you seen Freddie? I haven't spotted him in a while."

"Maybe they're hiding together, like 'lovers in secret, fleeing from the world,'" Jessie suggested in an overly dramatic tone, likely accompanied by theatrical gestures neither of them could see. Still, the words alone were enough to make them both blush as red as their outfits.

"Could be," Melanie admitted with a light laugh. "Though they're not a couple yet."

"They're not? Oh, come on! It's so obvious they're in love!"

Sam and Freddie looked at each other, instantly on high alert.

"Right? I've been trying to tell Sam that, but she won't listen," Melanie lied effortlessly, making the two hiding behind the tree let out a quiet breath of relief. "I believe Freddie's starting to come to terms with it, but I don't think they'll actually get together anytime soon. Not without a little push, at least."

"Oh, so that's why you decided to help them."

"Yup. It's not like they couldn't figure things out on their own, but I don't always get to spend time with Sam. I thought maybe this would make up for... you know, me being away from home so much.

At those words, Sam felt an unexpected lump in her throat. She lowered her gaze, trying to push back her emotions and thoughts. This wasn't the time to feel bad. It wasn't.

She felt something brush against her hand. It was Freddie's, tracing small circles there. She looked up at him and smiled in thanks. He smiled back.

"That's really sweet. I don't think you have anything to make up for, but still, I'm sure Sam appreciates it."

"She does. She even thanked me. The last time she thanked me for something was... well, I don't remember, but that's not important. I'm just glad I could help her. And between us," Melanie lowered her voice, though Sam and Freddie heard her as clearly as if she had used a megaphone, "I think it's all thanks to Freddie being a good influence on her."

"I believe that completely. He's such a polite guy. And if they end up together, he'll probably rub off on her—at least a little bit."

Embarrassed by the comment, Sam decided to look up at the blue sky... Oh, wait. No. It was already sunset.

"Let's hope it's that way and not the other way around," Melanie mused, her voice growing more distant. "Can you imagine Freddie picking up Sam's habits? I just can't picture him as a troublemaker."

Neither can I, Sam nearly blurted out, but she held back.

She glanced at Freddie from the corner of her eye, and he looked just as—if not more—flustered than she was. When he noticed her gaze, he swallowed hard and, as if searching for something to do with his hands, plucked a leaf from the tree and started fiddling with it.

She decided to let it slide and focused her eyes on the sky... or anywhere other than Freddie.

"Oh, I can," Jessie joked. "With how good he is with computers, he'd probably end up as a hacker or something."

Both girls laughed as their voices faded into the distance.

In a minute, silence returned.

"I think they're gone," Freddie murmured.

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Should we pretend we never heard any of that?" he asked.

"I thought you'd never say that," she replied, finally feeling like she could breathe again.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes." Freddie sighed, looking her in the eyes again, his smile slowly returning. "I'm guessing you're not going to tell me why you ran all the way here like you were in a marathon, or why Melanie was looking for you."

"You're guessing right."

Freddie nodded, his smile widening until it turned into a soft chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"All of this. Melanie, the stairs, the pictures... I feel like everything that's happened has gone so much better than I ever imagined. Than we ever imagined," he said, shrugging and taking a quick glance around before locking eyes with her again. "The truth is, Sam, I feel like my chest can't contain the happiness that's overflowing in it right now."

"And I feel like your brain flipped its dumb switch again, because you've run out of normal sentences... again," she teased, but there was no bite to her words, and they both knew it. "Or should I put it this way? 'I have the sensation that your sanity has fled, for you are no longer—' Ugh, I don't know. How do you make it sound so easy?"

"I don't know, it just flows," he admitted, watching her for a second before flashing a lopsided grin. A grin Sam knew all too well—the kind that warned her another one of his lines was on the way. "Maybe the company makes it easier."

Sam shook her head, glancing to the side with an amused smile. He would never change, huh? Well, good. She wouldn't have wanted him any other way. Not that she'd ever say that out loud.

(Not like he hadn't figured it out anyway.)

"It's almost time," he commented.

Sam nodded, still avoiding his gaze.

"Not nervous or anything?"

"Are you?" she countered, dodging the question.

"A little, maybe. Not so much about the dance itself, but about people noticing. Apparently, we're not as discreet as we thought. Jessica already caught on, and I bet her mom has too."

"Think Carly will notice soon? I mean, she hasn't yet, but it's possible."

"Maybe yes, maybe not. I don't know. I guess that'd save us from having to explain... or make things more complicated."

Sam nodded and yawned, feeling the weight of the day settle in.

"Want to sit for a bit?" he suggested, nodding toward the swing, which had enough space for two.

She nodded, and in silence, they sat down.

The swing swayed gently, the evening breeze cools against their skin. Sam's head bobbed slightly as sleep started creeping in. For a moment, she considered resting her head on Freddie's shoulder, but she hesitated. What if she smudged her makeup on his suit? She sighed and straightened up again.

Just as she was about to speak, suggesting they move before she passed out completely, she found him watching her with that same dumb smile as always.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"The honest version, if possible."

"If I say it, you'll probably think I'm just throwing out another one of my usual lines."

"I won't." Sam reached out and gently hooked her pinky around his. "I promise."

He glanced down at their intertwined fingers for a moment before meeting her gaze, suddenly shy.

"You look beautiful."

Sam blinked.

"You've been telling me that since the very first moment we started dating," she said, confused. "Why so shy about saying it now?"

"It's just that..." Freddie raised his hand as if that would help him find the right words. "Even though I meant it every time I said it before, it was more like... part of our new dynamic and all that. But now... it feels different. I see you differently.

"Well, of course. I almost never get this dressed up; obviously, you'd see me differently."

"Yeah, but no. What I mean is, you look beautiful being yourself. You don't look like some other girl just wearing makeup and nice clothes, like that time with that guy. You look like you, and that's... I mean, that's why I..."

"...Can't stop looking at me?"

Freddie nodded, a little embarrassed, but Sam just gave him a small smile.

"It's okay. I get it," she said sincerely. "To be honest, I can't even believe how comfortable I feel with all this."

"Really?"

"Yeah. At first, I thought it was a bad idea, but I actually really like how it turned out. I feel feminine and myself at the same time. Not like another Melanie or... someone else."

They both knew that "someone else" meant Carly, but neither of them said it out loud.

"I'm glad to hear that. I wouldn't want you feeling uncomfortable all night. I'd be worried about you the whole time, and we wouldn't be able to have fun like we should."

"We probably would've just ditched the dance or something."

"Yeah."

That's when Sam realized how close they were. Closer than before. Close enough that just a small movement would bring their lips together.

And in fact, that was exactly what was about to happen.

But at the last second, Freddie turned slightly and kissed her cheek instead.

Sam frowned, confused.

"Why'd you back away?"

"It's the lipstick. It might stick to me, and it'd be super awkward to ask someone for something to wipe it off. That would totally give us away."

"Ugh. Add that to my list of reasons why I hate makeup."

"Look on the bright side—it looks really nice on you."

"And what good is that if I can't...?" She stopped herself mid-sentence, realizing what she was about to say and feeling embarrassed.

Freddie raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Kiss me?"

Sam suddenly felt the urge to run away again. But she knew Freddie well, and unlike Melanie, he would definitely chase after her until he found her.

Instead, he just kissed her forehead and kept gently rocking the swing for both of them.

Two minutes later, Melanie stepped out of the house again, and this time, they both got up to meet her when she called them.

"Well? Are you calling the taxi, or do you still want to stay a little longer?"

Freddie gave Sam an inquisitive look, and she simply shrugged. She didn't mind leaving early or late, as long as she was with him.

"We'll call it now," he informed Melanie, "but first, let's make sure we have everything. You're not forgetting anything, are you, Sam?"

"Nope. Everything I need is right here," she replied, showing him her small black purse. "What about you? Didn't bring anything with you?"

"Just my phone, my wallet, and... the bouquet. By the way, where did you put it?"

"I took care of it," Melanie chimed in. "I put the flowers in a vase with water to keep them fresh. I'll make sure they get home safely."

"Perfect. Then I think that's everything, right, Sam?"

"Seems like it," she replied, though she suddenly recalled the conversation she had overheard between Melanie and Jessie—something about her sister needing to give her something. "Or so I think. Are you sure you didn't forget to give me anything?"

"Me? I don't think so," Melanie said casually, then suddenly froze. "Oh, wait! I almost forgot! Hold on, I'll be right back!" she exclaimed before rushing back into the house as quickly as Sam had run just moments earlier.

"She's fast," Freddie remarked. "Reminds me of someone..."

"Don't you have a taxi to call?" she shot back, unfazed.

He picked up on the implicit warning in her tone and, with a mock-innocent expression, raised his hands in surrender. Still, even as he dialed the number, that sly, mischievous smile remained on his face—the same one Sam had grown to love more and more each day.

When Melanie returned, she was carrying two small boxes—the kind used to store jewelry like earrings, necklaces, or bracelets. Without a word, she handed one to each of them.

With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, they both opened their cases at the same time.

"It's a chain," Freddie murmured, holding it up to the light so Sam could see it.

"And mine is a long necklace," she replied, showing it to him in return. "They look pretty similar. Did you get them as a matching set for us?"

Melanie nodded shyly.

"That's right. Do you like them?"

"They're really nice, but you didn't have to—" Freddie began, but Melanie waved him off dismissively.

"I know. But that doesn't matter. I just want you to have a good time."

But that wasn't all. They all knew it. However, this wasn't the time to bring it up.

"Thank you," Sam said sincerely.

Freddie examined the chain with a thoughtful look.

"Wouldn't it be a little suspicious for us to be wearing matching necklaces?"

"Oh, you can wear them differently," Melanie explained. "You can tuck the pendant away, add another charm, or just wear them under your clothes. However..." She glanced at Freddie. "I'm not sure if it really goes with what you're wearing right now. Maybe you should save it for later."

"I'll do that, then."

"I want to wear mine now," Sam announced. "Melanie, can you help me?"

Her twin nodded and stepped closer, but just then, someone called her from inside. She gave a quick apology before disappearing through the door.

Sam sighed. Well, it looked like she'd have to figure it out on her own.

"Need some help with that?" Freddie asked, noticing her moving her hair aside.

"Yes, please."

And just like that, they unintentionally checked off another classic moment from romantic movies—the boyfriend gently fastening a necklace around his girlfriend's neck.

Once it was in place and Freddie had tucked his own jewelry box into Sam's bag, the taxi arrived. Almost at the same time, Melanie reappeared, ready to say goodbye.

The farewell was brief but heartfelt. They thanked her again for everything and offered to return the favor, though she refused to accept. Then, Freddie stepped ahead to open the taxi door for Sam before getting in himself.

As the car pulled away, they waved at Melanie through the window, and she waved back from where she stood.

Sam felt, once again, like Cinderella—but this time, she was bidding farewell to her fairy godmother. However, rather than making her sad, the thought amused her. Yes, in this whole mess, Melanie was definitely her fairy godmother... or rather, theirs, since she had also helped Freddie.

After a while, they settled into their seats, drawing close without hesitation. Almost unconsciously, Sam rested her head on Freddie's shoulder, and he let her do so without a word.

A minute passed before he broke the silence.

"Can I borrow my chain for a moment?"

Sam nodded, rummaged through her purse, and handed it to him. Freddie examined it curiously, and almost instinctively, she did the same.

Her necklace was black, with a stone that, on its own, looked like a simple diamond. However, when tilted at a certain angle, it revealed itself to be half of a heart, seemingly designed to fit perfectly with Freddie's silver chain.

He seemed to reach the same conclusion.

"Do you think they have magnets?" he asked.

"Wanna try it?"

He nodded, bringing his chain closer to hers.

Both were surprised by how quickly the pieces snapped together. Before, they had only looked like diamond-shaped pendants, but now they formed a sort of heart.

"Incredible," she murmured, fascinated.

"Definitely," he agreed, running his fingers over the joined pieces. "I've seen some from afar before, but I've never actually had one myself."

"I can't imagine why," she began, already considering which of her many"Before-me-your-love-life-was-basically-nonexistent" cards she could play to tease him.

He caught on immediately, furrowing his brows in an attempt to look serious, though the rebellious curve of his lips betrayed that he wanted to smile.

"Don't start."

"Come on, drop the kicked puppy face. We're supposed to be having fun."

"And making fun of me is part of that?"

"A little, yeah."

Feeling bolder than before—maybe because they were slipping back into their usual dynamic—Sam brushed her fingers against his cheek. Instantly, he smiled the way she knew he wanted to.

This was better.

As fun as it was to tease him, she loved seeing him happy. Too much.

"What?" he asked, placing his hand over hers.

"You look really cute when you smile," she admitted before embarrassment could catch up to her. "And in that outfit. Always."

Sam could practically feel the heat rising to Freddie's cheeks as he blushed at her words.

And suddenly, she really wanted to kiss him. A lot.

"Thanks," he replied, gazing at her with tenderness.

Sam couldn't resist anymore.

"Can I kiss you?"

It was rare for her to be the one asking instead of Freddie, but it didn't matter. He more than deserved this kind of attention, too.

"I think you already know the answer," he whispered.

"But I'd like to hear it from you."

Freddie pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand.

"Yes."

This time, nothing else mattered. And fortunately, the taxi driver had the decency and kindness to roll up the partition—and, for good measure, the tinted windows as well.

---

Freddie had to admit it: it had been a bit (too) embarrassing for him to pay the taxi driver, knowing that he had probably—and by that, he meant definitely—seen them kiss in the back seats. Or maybe not. Who knows? The window was up when they arrived.

(Lies, he knows very well the driver rolled it up to give them privacy, but he prefers not to think about that right now, thanks).

But hey, look on the bright side: after a couple of kisses, Sam noticed that Freddie didn't have a single smudge of lipstick on his face. Realizing this, they both felt a mix of relief and embarrassment. Relief, because it meant they could kiss without worrying about telltale marks; embarrassment, because it meant Melanie had purposely chosen that kind of lipstick. She had definitely given them a big help, and she was seriously mistaken if she thought Sam and he wouldn't return the favor somehow. Even if she didn't notice it.

Anyway, when they got out of the taxi, instead of going straight in with the other students, they stood by the entrance. Sam pulled out her phone and told him she was going to text Carly to see where she was, so Freddie took the opportunity to look around.

Most of the students were walking straight into the dance with their partners, while the less fortunate ones were in groups of friends. Some looked excited, others a little sluggish, but everyone was dressed for the occasion.

The atmosphere at the school felt more festive: lights, decorations, posters, and he could even hear the music from the gym outside. Of course, there were also teachers and security guards everywhere, ready to stop any couple that tried to sneak off into some lonely corner of the building.

He checked the time on his phone and then looked for some game to pass the time. Yes, pass the time. No, he wasn't in any way trying not to think about the sweet things Sam had said to him earlier. No, of course not. He's Freddie Benson! He was used to saying cheesy things and clichés. A couple of nice words and gestures couldn't make him feel that happy (and nervous).

Of course not.

Well, perhaps yes. But could they blame him? There were few times when Sam gave him a real compliment, called him cute, or admitted that she was attracted to him. So every time it happened, he felt really happy and gave her all his attention, trying to stay calm so she wouldn't feel nervous or pull away. But he hadn't expected that excitement to be so intense that it made him feel anxious, too.

A part of him wondered how deep he could love her... and if he could handle it. As flirty as he might be sometimes, deep down, there was still some fear of getting his heart broken or being let down. And yes, he knew it was more than mutual now, but what if one day it stopped being that way? What if they decided to just be friends when the month ended? What would he do then? How long would it take for him to be able to love someone again without fear that...?

"Carly says she and her date are by our lockers," interrupted suddenly, the reason he had gone from "loving-thoughtful-shy" to "loving-thoughtful-shy-and-nervous" in less than a minute. "Freddie?"

"Sorry, were you saying...?" he replied, pretending not to notice. He had heard every word perfectly, but it was better if she thought he was distracted and not nervous thinking about... well, her.

"Carly told me she's waiting by the lockers with her date," Sam repeated more slowly. "Should I tell her we're meeting there, or do you prefer to go to the snack table first?"

"Lockers," he decided. "I'm sure it'll be too noisy in the gym, and we won't be able to talk peacefully."

"Sure? You seemed like spacing out a second ago."

"I just got distracted thinking about something. It's nothing. Besides, if I was feeling bad, why would I want to go eat?"

"I don't know. I would. That way, I'd focus on the food and not on what bothers me. You should try it sometime."

"But that wouldn't solve anything."

"Sothere is something bothering you," she pointed out with an arched eyebrow.

Freddie stayed silent. Sam crossed her arms, waiting. Finally, he sighed and gave in.

"I'm nervous. Not about the dance itself, but about... you know." He made a gesture between him and her. "I really want everything to go well. I don't want to... lose any of..." He sighed. "You get it. Although I'm starting to think we should have a code for talking about this too."

The last part came out a little sadder than he intended, and he regretted saying it. He should be happy because they had shared a nice moment together, and instead, he was ruining the mood for both of them...

"I don't either," she confessed in a whisper. "I'm happy about... the whole pancake thing, and I don't want it to end. But I guess we just have to keep cooking them carefully to make sure they stay good. So let's stop thinking about burning everything for today and just have fun, okay?"

Freddie raised an eyebrow, impressed that she took the code seriously and created one so quickly. It made him a little nervous to know that Sam had similar doubts, but at the same time, it reassured him because it meant she cared about keeping things good between them as much as he did.

He sighed, nodding at her words and trying to get back to himself. He thought about saying something to start a fun conversation, but instead, he ended up offering his arm to Sam.

"Isn't this something couples do?" she asked.

"Let's say it's for your shoes, then," he suggested softly before silently pulling his arm back. "Or we could just walk, if you think it's a bad idea."

"No, it's fine," she replied, linking her arm with his. "I guess it'll make me less tired."

And I like being close to you, anyway.

The last was what she didn't say out loud, but they both knew it was there. Then Freddie smiled, saying, "Let's go, then," so they could head toward where Carly was.

Although he still had his doubts and fears, for tonight, he would set them aside and have fun with Sam.

---

Well, that was all for the first part. I hope you liked it. I'm leaving you some dividers with images I generated a while ago with AI for this chapter on Wattpad and Ao3. Blessings and have a good day or night.