Author: MissPopuri PM
Fans of Charlie Brown and Lucy will love this Seddie take on the classic football scene. My first iCarly story.Rated: Fiction T - English - Sam P. & Freddie B. - Words: 2,013 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 11 - Published: 03-17-09 - Status: Complete - id: 4929498
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"Right here!" I raise my hand and inform the coach that I am here for football tryouts.
"No need to get funny with me, boy, we don't need comedians or tech boys here."
I swallow some air as I respond, "I wasn't trying to be funny."
"Let's see here...your first name is Fredward, eh? Do you know my niece? She talks about a Fredward all the time."
"I don't know if I do. What's her name?"
My mouth drops open in surprise. Whoa, Sam's uncle is the football coach. I thought all her family was in prison or on parole. "I would never have thought anyone in Sam's family would not be in prison or on parole."
The coach grits his teeth and replies, "I was in prison for 18 months. I got paroled for good behavior. I have had a clean record for 20 years, but I would not have a problem going back to prison if I had the opportunity." Coach eyes me curiously like he wants to kill me for bringing up a sore spot in his life. Aww sugar, I shouldn't have angered a member of Sam's family. This is not going to bode well for me.
"Anyways, you miserable excuses for men have the balls to try out for football, and I am here to weed out the puke to find the cream of the crop that happens to be among you. In honor of this puke (pointing at Freddie), I say you all need to take a lap around this field to warm up." The coach looks to me when he says this, and the other guys all groan as they start to run around the field, grumbling under their breath and giving me dirty looks. This is going to be a long tryout.
"Good job, Benson, that was a nice kick."
"Don't get cocky just yet, I want you to do 50 kicks like that before you hit the showers."
"Oh alright." I go set up the kick stand up for kicking practice, grumbling under my breath that I have to be held back from leaving. He is worse than Sam. Nothing ever satisfies him. He has to nitpick everyone. I take my position behind the ball, and I straighten my foot so it makes a nice cozy lift off point for a kick off. As my foot makes contact with the ball and soars through the goal posts, I hear a familiar voice ask me.
"What are you doing out here, Fredward? It's a little late for football tryouts," Sam laughs.
I turn to the voice, and I am surprised to see Sam in a cheerleader outfit. I mean, I have seen her in a skirt before, but she usually wears leggings underneath because they are a little short and she threw a corndog at the dress I wanted her to wear for that Wade Collins video. Thank God, they didn't lengthen the skirts of cheerleader uniforms. She looks really cute, too. Oh God, Freddie, get a grip, this is Sam here. She thinks you are weird enough as it is, you better not be drooling.
"I had the pleasure of impressing your uncle today, Sam. He wanted me to kick this ball fifty times into the goal posts before going in," I answer, eying Sam up and down, "what is with the outfit, Sam? I would think you hated cheerleading."
"Cheerleading isn't so bad. It keeps me out of trouble, and I only have to wear this so mom knows I wasn't lying about trying out this year."
"You didn't make the squad?"
"Oh no, I did. I just have to wear this because I tell my mom I try out for cheerleading, and she is disappointed when I tell her I don't have to go to a game."
I can't help but laugh at this. "Why did you want to appease your mom this year? That doesn't sound like you."
Sam clinchs her fists by her sides and walks right up to me, glaring at me, "I felt like it, ok, Fredweird, I wanted to do something different."
"Calm down, Sam, no need to get your cheerleader panties in a bunch," I hold up my hands in innocence, "I was only making an observation."
"I could observe this fist in your face right now."
"That doesn't make any sense."
Sam shakes her fist in my face, "Does that make sense, Fredward?"
Placing my hand on her fist, I lower it down to tell her, "I have to get back to kicking the football between the uprights."
"I could help you if you want."
I turn my head and cock an eyebrow at Sam, "Why do you want to help me?"
"I just thought you would want someone to help you by holding up the football, you need to learn how to kick with someone holding it when you are in a fourth down situation."
"How do you know so much about football?"
"Hello, my uncle is the football coach. My mom also dated a football player back when she spent one semester in college."
I laugh wholeheartedly, "That's true, I guess you would know about some football."
"Throw me the football and get ready to run at the ball."
I toss Sam the football, and I make the necessary steps that all kickers make when they get ready to kick. I count down from three, and I start running at the football. When I am positioning my foot to kick, I see Sam lift up the football as my foot should have made contact with the ball. I couldn't stop myself as I followed through, and I found myself skidding along the grass and lying flat on my back in shock. I hear Sam laughing as she snorts out, "You need to work on that kick there, Freddie."
"You need to not take the ball away when I get ready to kick it."
Sam smiles innocently, "I did no such thing besides you can't tell me what to do even if I did."
"I'm going to try that again." I get up, brush myself off, and get ready to kick again. Sam laughs as she puts the ball where she had it before. I point a finger at her and wag it signaling that I won't be taking any of her funny business. I start running at the ball again, and I am there about to kick it when I only feel air on laces as I flip over again on my back. Sam bursts out laughing. I sit up and turn to glare at her, "NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!"
"You're not the boss of me."
"I'm going to try that again, Puckett, and so help me, you will be in deep chiz if you take away the ball again."
"Oh, I'm quivering in my tennis shoes, Benson."
"You can put up that ball and shut up." I stomp off to reposition myself, and I notice Sam has stopped laughing. I wonder what she is up to. She angers me so much. I want to get her back for all the things she pulls on me, but I always end up getting pranked ten times worse than what I would have pranked her in the first place. I know I shouldn't mess with her, but she needs to be taught a lesson. No one else seems willing to do it.
"Hurry up, Benson, before my clothes go out of style." That skirt will never go out of style, I think to myself, she really shouldn't be kneeling like that. I shake my head of the thought, Stop it, Freddie, you can't be looking at her panties. I hold up my arm in a ready position, and I acknowledge Sam is ready by the nod of her head. I lower my arm and start running at the football. I didn't even remember there being mud in the endzone before now, but I saw the mud and was going to make contact with the ball but my left foot slid on some mud, and I found myself on my back again. Sam burst out laughing, and I lose it. I throw myself at her, tackling her to the ground before she is able to defend herself. She tries to wiggle out from under me, but I position myself so I am straddling her. I grab at her wrists and force them to either side of her head. In the heat of the moment, I hadn't realized what I had done until my head got closer to Sam's. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest as I am on top of her, my own heart rate quickening as well. Sam is still wiggling underneath me, and I am really trying to make her stop wiggling because I finally notice the excess friction rubbing against my shorts. I raise her arms up over her head to keep her from wiggling more, "Sam, you don't want to do that." My voice sounds a little husky now, but I am trying to keep it normal. "I want you to get off of me, Freddie, right now." She is still fidgeting, and I feel myself getting hard. Oh no, please don't, not now. "I can't do that, Sam." I wasn't even trying to disguise my voice. "Why not, Freddie?" I am the one in serious chiz here. I have her in a compromising position, and I can't get off of her or else she will know for sure. Ugh, I need to think of something else quick to keep from disgusting Sam. "I really don't think you want me to get off you right now, Sam." Sam stops wiggling for a second to look at me, puzzled, "What is the matter with you, Fredweir...?" Ah screw it, I might as well do this. My lips find Sam's as I stop her from talking. Her lips taste exactly how I remember them. I like the strawberry lip gloss she wears. My hands move up to intertwine my fingers with hers as I lick her lips with my tongue, as she parts them for me I moan with pleasure. I explore her mouth with my tongue, and she teases my tongue with her own. A groan comes out of the back of my throat as I play tonsil hockey with her tongue. I have moved my hands so that one of my hands is still holding both of her arms over her head, and the other hand is feeling up her thigh pushing up her skirt. Sam lets a moan when my fingers inch closer to her panties. I am completely unaware of anyone else but Sam as I continue to kiss her until I feel a pair of hands lifting me off Sam, and I am appalled to see my mother standing there with a Blonde-haired woman I don't recognize.
"FREDWARD BENSON, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" My mom yells at me.
"SAMANTHA PUCKETT, YOU ARE GOING TO COME HOME RIGHT NOW AND NEVER SEE THIS BOY AGAIN." The Blonde woman who I didn't recognize pulls Sam up and drags her away, "What am I going to do with you, Samantha? First you lie about cheerleading and then you make out with a boy in public." Ms. Puckett exclaims as she walks away.
Smiling to myself, I knew my mother wasn't going to be very helpful, but I had no idea that Sam's mom would be even worse than my own. I was too distracted to notice my mother mumble under her breath, "Wet and sticky is very icky, Sticky and Wet makes mommy upset."