Summary: So now, she would finally answer her own question; return to what she remembers loving, to those she remembers loving

Summary: So now, she would finally answer her own question; return to what she remembers loving, to those she remembers loving.

Disclaimer: iDon’t Own iCarly or any of it’s characters. Only the ones I make up:)

iRemember

Chapter Twelve

“Sam!” A voice jolted Sam Puckett from her dream about Ham-man attacking Ham Francisco.

“What?!” She looked around, panicked. “Who’s there?! I know karate!”

“It’s the dork.” Freddie replied, sarcastically. He was holding his camera. “We were supposed to do Wake Up Spencer tonight, remember?”

“So I forgot!” she whispered, in her usual Sam-like tone.

“You forgot?!”

“Well, sorry my love for sleep distorted my memory!” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “And anyway, normal people don’t stay up ‘til four AM.”

“Right, because we’re so normal.” He exclaims, smiling slightly. “C’mon, let’s go before we wake Carly.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam rolled her eyes and got out of her sleeping bag. The two frenemies left Carly’s bedroom and walked across the hall to her crazy brother’s room.

“Alright, Freddork, let’s do it.” Sam whispered, turning on his camera for him. “Hey iCarly viewers. We’re back in Spencer’s room –”

“To wake him up.” Freddie finished enthusiastically.

Sam stared at him. “I think they knew that already. The segment’s called ‘Wake Up Spencer’, moron!”

“No need to be rude.” Freddie shot back. He zoomed in on Spencer’s clock. “As you can see, it’s 4:12 AM.”

“Which, unbeknownst to Spencer, is also wakey-wakey time.” Sam joked. She turned to Freddie. “On three. One…two…three –”

“WAKE UP, SPENCER!” They shouted at the same time. Spencer sat up abruptly and started muttering gibberish and flailing about.

“Wh-what? Wait, where am –” Spencer muttered sleepily.

“You forgot to iron your pomegranate!” Freddie told him, laughing.

“I, wait, my polished helmet?!” Spencer was completely out of it. Freddie and Sam burst out laughing.

“Quick, run, it’s in Canada!” Sam yelled between laughs.

“But I can’t run to Canada! I don’t have a poma…helmet…Canada…”

“Use the mop!”

“The strawberry flavored one!” Freddie chimed in.

The two of them continued the segment, laughing like crazy and having a blast, completely unaware that it could’ve been their last time.

Because come tomorrow, Jaryn Frund would view Sam singing on an episode of iCarly, and Sam would decide to leave; Freddie, meanwhile, would decide with all his might not to care.

I’m going to do it.

And the thought is so ridiculously, undeniably scary that I’m shaking, and quite frankly, you might just see my dinner again in a moment. But it’s also a true thought, which makes it even scarier.

I’m lying down in my sleeping bag, reading one of Carly’s old books (The Truth About Forever, by Sarah Dessen). Well, sort of reading it. I can see the ink on the pages, but the words just aren’t fazing me. I keep rereading the same line over and over; You have to have a little bit of disorganization now and then. Otherwise, you’ll never really enjoy it when things go right…It just happens to be the line that my eyes fall on each time, but weirdly, it seems to fit me perfectly.

Then I look up at the clock; 3:56 AM. Way too late to be up, and waiting. Yet I am. There’s no way I’m turning back now. I didn’t before; why start now?

It was almost like a routine. Read the same line again and again, look up at the clock, think that scary thought once again, and then we’re back to reading that line.

I bet you’re curious what I’m staying up waiting for, so I’ll tell you.

I’m going to talk to Freddie. I really am. And without arguing, too. I spent a lot of time today thinking about what I have to do to completely become Sam Puckett again.

For the few days I’ve been here, I’ve been feeling more and more like myself. And it’s great…but I realized about five hours ago that there can’t be Sam Puckett without, you know, a dork by her side.

The people you meet throughout your life play a huge part in who you are, and who you might be. You don’t realize it at first, but they do. Sometimes they only affect you in an insignificant way; so small that you can’t even notice. But they do.

And sometimes, a person can affect you in such a large way, that they become part of what defines you. And if they leave, well, it changes you. That definition, what makes you you, is forcibly altered in trying to fill that void. Because wherever that person is, they took part of you with them. I mean, Carly, Freddie and I parted ways, and look what happened to us.

So that’s why I’m lying here, waiting for Freddie to return from wherever he is, so I can finally become whole again, in the way I want to be.

Seriously, who stays out ‘til four AM?

This is getting ridiculous. I close the Sarah Dessen book (well, I wasn’t going to read it!) and yawn. The gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach hasn’t decreased in the slightest bit.

You know those times where you just want to get something over with, so it’s done and you can say it’s done?

You do now.

The worry is suddenly replaced with hunger when my stomach growls. I decide to go downstairs and get something to eat, not caring how late it is.

I pull myself out of the sleeping bag and slip on Spencer’s rainbow slippers. Quietly, I head out of the iCarly studio and down the stairs, thinking about just what I’ve gotten myself into.

Because there he is. He’s sitting on the couch reading some book. He looks lost in it, and suddenly I’m really curious what it is that he’s reading; what book could make ‘bad boy Freddie Benson’ look lost.

On top of my curiosity, I’m also feeling slightly sick. Maybe this isn’t such a brilliant idea after all.

But before I can turn around or say anything, he spots me. He slams the book shut and looks around the room awkwardly.

I walk towards him, suddenly feeling dizzy again. It’s probably just because I’m tired. It is four o’clock in the morning. “Hey.” My voice feels louder than it is in the quiet, sleeping apartment.

He raises an eyebrow, studying me, probably trying to figure out why I’m coming down to talk to him so late at night. “Hey?” His response comes out as more of a question.

“Have you been down here all night?” Oh wow, Sam, way to ask the dumbest question on the planet.

“Why would you care?” he asks quietly. And honestly, I can’t blame him for wondering. I haven’t been all that nice since I’ve gotten back. I wasn’t so nice before I left either. I guess I thought I sort of had to be mean to him, since that’s how I acted towards him before everything changed. But really, I wasn’t all that whole back then, either. I had a void to fill back then, too. And maybe this will finally fill it – becoming actual friends with him.

After a couple of seconds, I shrug. “I…I dunno.”

We just stare at each other for probably the longest time. None of it feels real yet; me being here, seeing him. Have you ever noticed that everything seems less existent at night? The morning seems so far away and out of reach. I guess this is why most people sleep at night.

But time and time again I learn that I’m really not like most people. And Freddie used to be different, too. We were the bad girl and the nerd – though we had different ways of showing it, we never let anyone tell us how to live and what to do.

Boy, have things changed since then.

I hear a couple of crickets from outside one of the Shay’s open windows. They’re so free. They can sing whenever they want and still be who they are and with their own that they want to be with. They’re so lucky, those stupid bugs. Lovely, now I’m jealous of singing insects.

“Okay, this is freaking me out.” Freddie finally breaks the silence, causing me to jump slightly. I was concentrating on his eyes. Oops. “You’ve been within ten feet of me for a full minute, and we haven’t argued or insulted each other yet.” I slowly relax. Was that a joke?

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s happened since –” Realization dawns on me. “Ever.” I can’t read his expression as I say that. I shift uncomfortably and my eyes fall to the book in his lap. It’s dark so I can’t really see what it looks like. “So…whatcha reading?”

“Nothing!” he answers, probably too quickly, and for a split second, I see nervous, nerdy Freddie Benson, until he glares and hisses, “Why?” like an obnoxious brat, forcing the vision away again.

Suddenly, I’m really annoyed. Why is he acting so defensive over a book?! Now I really wanna know what it is…

“I’m just curious.” I roll my eyes. I see him try to hide the book, but with my super quick reflexes, I snatch it from his hands. Ha, yes! I flip open the book before he has any time to react. Now to –

I freeze, not believing what I’m seeing. My heart beats faster than normal as I slowly look from the page to Freddie, and then back to the page.

I’m staring at a picture of Carly and I, age eight, with a tuna sandwich.

At my photo album.

“Where did you find it?” I ask softly. I quickly snap out of my trance and put on a Sam face. “I’ve, you know, been looking for it.”

“You left it in my apartment, after you saw –” He pauses, not looking at me. “Just, you left it there.”

But wait a second.

He hasn’t been in his apartment since the fire.

My heart starts beating even faster. So fast that I think it just might fall out of my chest and bounce off the walls of the apartment. I can’t think straight anymore.

“You rescued it, didn’t you?” I hear myself ask, but I feel far away…like I’m drifting backwards. “Before the fire.”

He looks down at his feet. “It’s the only thing I rescued.”

Freddie says this, plain as day. And then my mind rewinds back to the week before I got on that plane. ‘Good riddance,’ he’d said. ‘Good riddance’.

I shake my head slightly, trying to understand. “But why would you care about - ?”

“I don’t!” he suddenly yells harshly. “I just kept it…because…”

“So, what, Freddie?” I cross my arms. “You expect me to believe you took it because it’s green, your favorite color?” I stare at him, waiting. He continues to say nothing, and it’s honestly driving me bonkers. Will anything get through to his thick head? “Do you care, or do you not care?” He sighs, obviously searching himself. “There’s no in between…I would know.”

“I don’t…anything.” He answers, frustrated. “I don’t know, okay? Why does it matter if I care about some stupid book anyway?!”

“I swear, you’re just impossible.” I huff, opening the book. “Sometimes I wonder why I even try.”

He raises an eyebrow, confused. “Try what?”

I simply shake my head.

If he really doesn’t care, then why does he act so much like he does? And more importantly, why do I even care?

I’m fine with not being completely whole again now. Just fine.

I mean it.

I turn the page of the photo album randomly, revealing a picture of Carly, Freddie and I on a beach when we were eleven. Carly’s at the far left, with ice cream all over her nose smiling widely. I’m in the middle, pointing and laughing at Freddie, who is on the other side of me, covered in sand, huffing. So obviously I poured sand on him.

I take a deep breath. I’m ready. Time to remember, Freddie. “Hey, do you remember this?” I hand the book over to him, and he studies it. There’s somewhat of a smile of his face.

“Yeah,” he answers. “My mom gave me anti-mineral baths for a month.”

“And those gave you those rashes.” I laugh. He nods, looking slightly confused by my switch in topics, but I need to do this.

Remembering is what helped me realize where I went wrong…and maybe it would help Freddie, too. A while ago, I had some growing up to do; I had to face my mistakes, and the obstacles put up to correct them.

I turn the page randomly again. “Look, this was when we all met the Plain White T’s.”

“Oh yeah,” he smiles, a little bigger than the time before. “I remember that.”

And now, it’s his turn.

“So, Freddie, what do you say?” Valerie stared at Freddie, her arms crossed, expecting a big fat YES because that was just who she was.

“I dunno, Val.” He said, and he meant it. He wasn’t so sure he liked Valerie. In fact, he wasn’t sure he liked anyone nowadays. Sam left two years ago, and suddenly nothing mattered.

“Oh come on, Freddybear.” She pouted. “Don’t tell me you’ve still got that Sam girl on your mind.” He stared at the ground, trying to let her words just roll away, like he did with everything. But she was talking about her. And he couldn’t ignore her, though he tried, and wouldn’t give up trying. “She’s always hated you, you know. I mean, like, she moved away, without even asking you what you thought. And even when she was here, all she did was pick on you.”

“She told me I was important…” he mumbled, more to himself than anyone.

“Yeah, once.” Valerie rolled her eyes. “And then she gave you a wedgie! Yeah, that totally means she cares.” Freddie’s body shook. He couldn’t take much more of her words. “But me…I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

Freddie sighed and put on his bravest face. He’d show her he didn’t need her. He didn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t.

“Sure, let’s go out.” He managed to say, smiling.

Later that night, Freddie Benson signed onto his email, and he gave it one more try. He sent Samantha Puckétte one more email, containing only twenty-four words, hoping that maybe, she’d finally answer as Sam. If she answered, he would dump Valerie. He really would.

To Samantha Puckétte,

Please tell Sam that I miss her. She’s been gone for a while, and I don’t know where she is.

-Freddie Benson

He never did receive a reply.

A/N: Yikes. Intense. But hey, some Sam and Freddie progress right there! As you can see, Freddie’s unsure where to put his heart; if he should put his heart anywhere at all. It’s not very easy to figure out where your heart lies, I’m sure you can all relate to that. Past or present? What will win?!

Stay tuned!

-Colors

PS – I was watching the iCarly Double Date Night Commercial with my nine year old sister Emily. At the end, she was laughing at the thought of Carly dating Gibby, and suddenly she goes, “Oh my god, what if Sam dated Freddie?” And burst out laughing. After that, I had to give her a long speech about the wonderfulness of Seddie, and I’m here to report that I have converted her. Yay!:)