Summary: Just when Freddie's life seems perfect, he receives a secret admirer note

Summary: Just when Freddie's life seems perfect, he receives a secret admirer note. Suddenly, that mystery girl is all he can think about. Seddie.

A/N: I know you're all highly anticipating iSwitch, but this idea refused to leave my brain. REFUSED. The good news is, I think you'll like it.

Disclaimer: iDon't own iCarly. Nor do I own I'm Yours, by Jason Mraz.

iNeed To Find Her

By Colors

It's the first time a poster for a dancer has ever made me so happy, I decide, as I reach the door to Ridgeway High. "MASQUERADE MADNESS TOMORROW IN THE GYMNASIUM! WHAT TO BRING, YOU ASK?! FORMAL ATTIRE AND A MASK!" Even the corny rhyme doesn't ruin its meaning.

It was one of those insanely awesome days when you woke up and just knew that the day was gonna be one of the best of your life. I could feel it, as I laid in bed waiting for my alarm to sound, as it sounded, shocking me into falling off the bed (and I didn't even care!), as I showered, as I got dressed in my most clean-cut shirt (Carly loves it when I'm clean-cut and good), as I, for once, happily ate my mom's spinach omelet, and you know what? I didn't even care when she yelled, "Have a beautiful day, honey! I packed extra underwear for you, just in case!" when she dropped me off.

And I still don't care. I'm too happy to care!

Why, you ask?!

Because today is a beautiful day. It's the day I've been waiting for for five quadrillion, nine hundred sixty-seven trillion, one hundred fifteen billion, and seven hundred and seventy-six million days. More or less.

Last night, after iCarly, I asked out Carly Shay. To be my girlfriend and go to the previously mentioned masquerade dance with me. You know, to try again at my becoming Carly's second husband. Nothing too unusual.

What was unusual, and completely amazing, was that she actually said yes!

Well, actually, she said, "Fine, Freddie, I'm going to give you a chance. But just to prove that it's not going to work." Or I think that's what she said, because honestly, my mind was racing way too fast to input coherent words.

Whatever. The point is, I, Fredward Benson, am currently Carly's boyfriend. And today is the day the whole world (okay, school) is going to see.

As I enter the school, Carly's in plain sight, heading towards her locker, which brightens my already impenetrable, happy mood. Nothing will ruin this for me. Nothing, I tell you. I smile triumphantly, pondering ways in which I should approach her. There's the locker lean, there's the taking her by surprise by shouting 'boo' thing…I could just walk by and see if she makes the first move to greet, you know, to keep it cool…Oh well, whatever I decide, nothing and no one's gonna spoil this for –

"Move, dork!" A familiar blonde girl charges past me, knocking into my shoulder with force, sending me nose-first to the ground. Aw, man. Strike that last statement.

Because Sam Puckett has this ability to just knock the perfect normalness out of anything and anyone who happens to be in her way. Or out of her way. Any way, really.

Sam reaches Carly's locker before me and my crushed nose and starts talking frantically to her about something. I get up and groan, brushing possible dirt fragments off my no-longer-as-clean-cut shirt. I approach the two girls, feeling mad all of a sudden – but you know what? It's okay! Because boy is Sam going to be getting an 'I told you so' soon. She didn't think Carly would ever love me. But soon, she'll totally be swimming – no, drowning - in her statement's own falsity.

"…with a hammer?! How did you even find one?!"

"My backpack! And he was asking for it!"

"But the police were right there –"

"Hey Carly!" I say brightly, suddenly happy again. Because this is our day. Sam can try all she wants, but she's not switching anything this time.

"Hi." Carly smiles.

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Aw, I don't get a hi?" she says, in a way that's supposed to sound like she doesn't care.

"I don't greet people who knock me over in hallways." I tell her evenly. "Why were you in such a hurry anyway?"

"Well, I was walking by Miss Briggs' ex-husband's house, and I had this hammer –"

"She hit and run." Carly finishes.

"I'm not surprised." I mutter, then I go back to smiling again. "So…!"

"So what?" Carly asks.

"Did you tell Sam the good news?!" I'm still smiling. I can't help it. It's just way too perfect. And so what if I kind of want to shock Sam? I think I'm due, after all. Nothing seems to faze her.

Carly immediately looks guilty, and my hypothesis has been confirmed – Sam still doesn't know. I mean, I guess it makes sense – Sam had already left when I asked the fateful question. It was pretty late. She probably went home and slept way longer than a normal human should.

Sam slowly turns to her friend. "Good news?"

"Carly and I are dating!" I state, clearly and enthusiastically. She just looks at me for a couple seconds, her expression unreadable, until she bursts into a laughter that really gets under my skin.

Still hysterical, she nudges Carly in her abdomen. "Can you believe what this kid is saying?!" She continues nudging, waiting for Carly to join in on the mocking, but Carly just bites her lip, looking awkward. Sam soon realizes this, and her laughter fades. "Uh, why aren't you laughing?" We're silent. "That was a joke, right?"

Carly sighs. "No, we are dating." She looks over at me sternly. "To prove we shouldn't."

"We'll see." I tell her, and by that, I mean she's crazy. We're meant to be.

Then her eyes fall back on Sam, who looks kind of betrayed. But that's her problem…"I was gonna call and tell you last night, but the last time I called you while you were sleeping you threw your cell phone across the room and killed your fish."

"I understand." She nods fakely, but then the act soon ends. "You know what?! Okay, no, I don't understand! Why would you date that?!" She points sharply to me.

"Hey!" I yell. "Just because you think only bugs are attracted to me doesn't mean it's true!"

"Let's just go to class." Carly says hurriedly.

"I'm takin' the long way!" Sam shoots back, already strutting away in the opposite direction.

"Do you think she's okay?" Carly asks me, concerned.

"Yeah, you know Sam…" I push away the subject like a tree branch blocking my vision on a path. Because it's not important. I shouldn't be worrying about Sam. I shouldn't be worrying about anything. I'm with Carly Shay!

So I grab her hand and walk the opposite way Sam did.

It feels nice holding her hand – they're really delicate and pretty, but for some reason, I feel like her hand's just laying there and not holding mine back.

You know what? I totally just need some time for it to sink in before I can truly fathom how amazing I feel. Yeah. That's it.

"You okay?" Carly asks, giving me a small, pretty smile.

Which automatically causes me to say, "Of course! You're here, aren't you?"


By lunch, the news that Carly and I are an item has spread all over our grade. Shannon and her friends have been crying in the girl's room all morning. Jonah keeps sending me glares. Jake sighs when we walk by.

It's strange, being envied. It's never really happened before, unless you count Jeremy babbling on and on in awe with my camera…and then sneezing on it…

I enter the cafeteria, lunch tray in hand (the special today is meatloaf surprise…the meatloaf I'm okay with, but I'm not too sure I want to find out what the surprise is, so I just got a turkey sandwich), spotting Carly and Sam at our usual table right in front of the vending machine. Sam chose it, her argument being that she hated getting up to walk to the machines, and well, getting up in general.

I take a seat next to Carly. "Hey you."

She laughs lightly. "Hey to you. How's your day been?"

"Boring." I respond. I look down at my tray of food. "But I've got a pudding cup, so it's all good now!"

"Mind if I try some?" she asks, smiling.

"Not at all." I open the pudding, take my spoon, and fill it with the creamy goodness that is pudding. Then I wait, the spoon in the air.

"Freddie, no way are you feeding me!" she argues, meaning it and being playful at the same time.

"Oh, come on." I prod. "I insist." I think I catch a glimpse of Sam rolling her eyes, but I'm not positive.

Carly then rolls her eyes, defeated. "Oh, fine."

Somewhere between happily feeding my girlfriend, discussing iCarly, and Masquerade Madness plans, I look up to find Sam's chair empty. But I don't let it bother me.


"Where is she?!" Carly asks, pacing the studio like something is after her. It's a week later; Friday. The night we always do iCarly. And Sam hasn't shown up yet.

And I knew Carly's question didn't just apply to tonight. It applies to yesterday, and the day before, and all the iCarly rehearsals, and, well, all this week. I feel like day by day, she exists less.

And I know I'm supposed to be her frenemy and all, but isn't there a reason for the fr in that word? It's gotta kick in sometime. So, surprisingly enough, I'm sort of worried too.

But I'm Carly's boyfriend. Carly's boyfriend (has a nice ring to it, right?). I've got to be strong. I've got to act like I've got all the answers. Which I do. Sometimes.

"Don't worry, she'll be here." I tell her gently, even though I'm really not sure whether or not Sam will show up. She's a mystery, that girl.

"Oh, like she was here for rehearsal yesterday? And for lunch the last five days?" she says back skeptically.

"Come on, she's only…" I glance at my watch, noting that Sam is thirty minutes late, and iCarly is set to start in four. "Some…minutes…late…"

She still looks panicked. "What're we gonna do if she doesn't - ?!" The elevator makes a ding sound, and a moment later a tired-looking Sam rushes out, looking out-of-breath while carrying her lock-picking kit.

"I'm here, I'm here, be calm!" she yells.

Carly immediately looks relieved, but still angry. I decide to mimic her expression. "Do you realize we've got –" She grabs my wrist then drops it. "-three minutes 'til we're live?!"

"Yeah, where were you?" I question.

"I had some…" she shifts in position, glancing down at her kit. "Business to take care of at school."

I raise an eyebrow. "At night? What would you need to do in school at –" I immediately stop, disastrous options filling my brain. "Uh, actually, don't even tell me."

She rolls her eyes. "Was I planning to?" She turns to Carly. "Carls, tell your nerd to count backwards from five already."

I try to pretend I didn't hear that, and start the show.

"Carly here!"

"Sam I am!"

"Welcome to iCarly!" Carly says cheerfully. "The only webshow guaranteed to make you crave meat!"

"It's workin'!" Sam laughs. "So, Carly, tell the web world what we've got planned."

"Okay guys…" Carly glances left, then right, to build suspense. I smile. "Prepare yourselves for…"

"The Blab Cam!" The two of them yell together, using the weirdest faces possible. I laugh quietly.

"Okay Freddie, do your stuff." Carly commands. "Please."

"Oh, as if the 'please' was necessary." Sam rolls her eyes. "Fredward, just pick a person." I stare at her, confused for a second, and then shrug it off and stare down at the unbelievably crowded waiting list.

"Hey." I say, surprised at the first person. "We've got a request from Jason Fields." This gets me excited. This guy is not only a director, but a genius in the art of web shows. I actually got a lot of tips from his site.

"The guy who sings that 'I'm Yours' song?!" Carly asks, excited.

Sam then takes this as an opportunity to burst into the song's chorus and dance around. "No I, won't he-za-tate, no more, no more, it cannot wait, I'm –"

"No!" I say sharply, and Sam stops immediately, looking surprised. She's been acting weird lately, even for her. "That's Jason Mraz. Jason Fields is the director of tons of famous tech-related movies. Let's talk to him." I click 'accept' on the screen, and immediately a young-looking dude, probably in his thirties or something, pops up on our screen. I change the camera setting and walk over.

"Hello there Carly, Sam, Freddie." He greets.

"Hey/hi/yo." We all say.

"I just want to say," I start excitedly. "That I'm a huge fan of your work!"

"Likewise." He says. I hear Sam mumble something that sounds a lot like 'dorkfest.' "Your iCarly affects are magnificent. In fact, I was hoping you could come down to the studio tomorrow night for an interview…I think the writers could really benefit from your creativity. That's why I requested a chat. How about it?"

"Why do I feel like this show is headed right into Geeksville?" Sam questions, bored.

"Carly…" I prod.

"Sam, that wasn't….nice. And stuff." Carly tells her, sounding like she doesn't really have much to say on the subject. Sam rolls her eyes and stares at her fingers.

"I'd like to, but I can't." I tell the guy, remembering Masquerade Madness.

"Hey, I'll go. My brother can take me." Carly cuts in cheerfully.

I stare, wondering if she forgot or just doesn't want to go. "But Carly –"

"Great then, I'll email you the address in a while. Goodbye!" And then the screen goes blank.

I hide my shock until the show ends.

"Carly, the masquerade thing is tomorrow night!" I remind her. Sam looks up immediately.

"Aw man, I forgot." She says, disappointed. "Should I cancel?" She sounds like she doesn't really want to cancel.

Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I think. But she actually seemed genuinely excited about it before, and I don't want to seem pushy or anything. I mean, it wasn't official or anything, I guess. "No, you go ahead. It sounds cool, and it would be great for iCarly."

She now looks excited. I mean, it makes sense. She's going to be interviewed by professional, famous programming people about what it's like to be a web star.

Still…I can't help but be kind of disappointed.

"Thank you so much!" she says, wrapping her arms around me tightly.

Disappointed?! Me?!

Nah!

"You know," she says, as we pull apart. She looks over at Sam, then me. "You guys could go together. Like, as friends."

"When pigs fly." I mutter.

She gives her 'aw, look, a nerd' face. "Wow, you fly?!" Then she just glares. Her glares are like daggers.

I roll my eyes and look back at Carly. Her eyes are less painful, but they feel far away.


The next morning, the whole school is buzzing with excitement for the masquerade dance. I'm wearing this mask, and the decorations are this, and the food will be that. Blah, blah, blah. It's all everyone is talking about. It's like your life won't be complete unless you attend.

It's not like one dance can change someone's life, okay?

Maybe I'm just kind of bitter because I'm not going, but it's not a crime.

I head over to Carly's locker to find that neither she nor Sam is there. So I walk down the hallway to my locker, and I sigh with frustration when I notice my two favorite (note the sarcasm) football players head-to-head right above my locker.

"Guys." I say loudly over the shouting. Obviously, I'm not heard.

"That was my sandwich!" Duke screeches at Mike – the other footballer. He slams him with great force into the lockers. "Mine!"

"Guys!" I scream, and they stop and stare. "Uh…free meat?"

"Sure, nerd." Duke rolls his eyes. "We're not falling for that one again."

"Yeah!" Mike chirps in.

"Free sundaes in the parking lot?" I suggest weakly. The two crazies turn and stare at each other excitedly.

"Last one there's a rotten porcupine!" Duke yells, and makes a point to slam me into my own locker before running away.

Ugh. I'm in some pain here.

Out of nowhere, I feel something strange and papery on my neck. This strikes me as odd, considering lockers are usually made of metal, so, still rubbing my throbbing head, I glance behind me to find a note stuck to my locker, labeled 'Freddie.' I'm the only Freddie in our school, at least to my knowledge, and well, it is on my locker, so I assume the note is for me.

I pull the note off my locker, noticing with slight disgust that it was attached with gum, and I read its contents: Page 56 of your History textbook.

Huh?

Confused, I open my locker, noticing with an annoyed groan that my lock is missing. Did Duke eat it or something?!

I take out my history book and flip to the page, hoping to find some answers.

Instead, I find a note. A rectangular piece of white stationary with red flowers bordering the edges.

Freddie,

I don't even know why I'm doing this, because I (and, well, the whole school) know that you're dating Carly. You're even going to that masquerade thing with her. Maybe it's because I just need you to know without you actually knowing. Okay, that made no sense.

I've been in this stupid battle, This mind battle, because honestly, writing this note, telling you these things, feeling this way, makes absolutely no sense.

But I like you. I might even more than like you. And I know it doesn't even matter, but it had to be said before my sanity went KABLAM (aka, before it exploded).

Trust me when I say you do not want to know who I am.

I wanted to find answers, but instead I just find more questions.

I sit there for a while, just staring at the note. Contemplating it. The handwriting is messy but….I guess you could say hesitant. It's crumpled up a bit, so maybe this mystery girl had second thoughts about giving it to me.

I've had admirers before, and admirer notes, too. Shannon and her followers spent half of last year cramming this very locker with love notes. All of which I completely disregarded because they were just flat-out creepy. To the fiftieth power. So I sort of decided I hated admirer notes.

But…there's something about this one. Something…I don't know, honest. Real. I'm not really sure what to make of it, especially the last line – "Trust me when I say you do not want to know who I am." 'Mystery Girl' had underlined 'not' three times. I could picture her, whoever she is, feeling angry about how important the point was. Or maybe sad. Or maybe both.

I suddenly shake my head, letting the hand containing the note fall to my side. What am I doing? Why am I even thinking about this note? I have a – no, the – girlfriend. The girl of my dreams. I shouldn't be –

"Boo!" her voice startles me, causing me to jump slightly. She frowns. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

"N-no." I say, my voice probably higher than it should've been, especially since this whole puberty thing had caught up with me. I compose myself and try again. "No, I'm fearless!" I smile triumphantly, my heart beat dying down to normal level.

"Whatcha got there?" she glances curiously at the note in my hand.

"Homework!" I say back quickly. "Just homework. Stupid, dumb…homework!" Okay, so I'm kind of a bad liar. I shove it back into my history book and into my locker in a fraction of a second.

"Someone's oxymoronic today." She giggles. Then, her expression turns serious. "Listen, I just wanted to apologize for the masquerade thing."

"It's cool." I tell her, only partly meaning it.

"No, it's not." She sighs. "Not really…" Her head falls onto my shoulder as she looks deep in thought. Not gonna lie, she's cute when she's thinking. Her head then springs up. "Hey, why don't you go anyways?!"

"Because it'll be boring without you." I huff.

"Maybe you'll meet someone special, hm?" she nudges me in the side.

I stare at her, unfazed. "Not funny. I'm dating you."

"On a trial basis." She reminds me. "I really think you should go. It could be fun…"

She is sp innocent in saying it all that I just can't let her down. "I'll think about it." I mutter.

She grins. "That's all I ask."


I bet you're wondering why I am where I currently am after school, instead of at my place or Carly's.

Don't ask me why (I won't have an answer), but this…this secret admirer thing has been bothering me all day. I sat in all my classes, trying to think about Carly, or school, or iCarly…anything else, but my mind kept slipping back to the girl with a face I can't identify scribbling angrily onto the paper, feeling without hope.

I know how it feels, to wait for something, or someone, that you're not sure is even on its, or their, way. I get it.

And finally, I decide I want to know who she is. Not for dating purposes, as I'm with Carly, of course. I just need to know. I need a face to match my vision with; I need to know who can relate to me in such a way.

But obviously there's no point in trying, somehow, to get this mystery girl to reveal herself. Clearly she doesn't want me to know.

So I put two-and-two together…who does one go to for assistance when defiance of requests and sneakiness are involved?

Well, here's your answer.

"Hey there, Freddie." Sam's mom open the door for me, a bag of Dorito's under her arm. "Sam's in her room. Go right on up."

"Thanks, Ms. Puckett." I thank her, and head up the stairs of Sam's apartment in Landson Plaza B. I've been to Sam's lace enough times to know where her room is.

Her door, white and sleek, clearly states, "NO DORKS ALLOWED" under her Drake Bell poster. I guess I'm the exception.

I knock once, then twice. "Sam? You in there?" After a few moments, I decide its okay to open the door. When I do, I find that her room is empty. She's not on or in her bed, at her laptop (which is, carelessly, may I add, on the floor), nor is she at her desk, which is right across from me.

"Sam?!" I call again. "Your mom said you'd be –"

"What is it, Fredwad?!" her desk chair rolls around quickly, and I scream from surprise. She waits, impatiently, for me to stop. When I do, she adds, "What do you want?"

"Well, I wanted a heart attack," I tell her sarcastically. "But no worries, ya did the deed!" She raises an eyebrow, waiting. I sigh. "I need your manipulative, sneaky, maniacal mind."

"For?"

I hesitantly reach into my pocket, pulling out the note. I place it on her desk, and she picks it up, examining it. Her expression isn't readable.

"Someone left it for me in my locker." I explain, feeling awkward. Who am I kidding; she is so going to rip on me for this. "I'm just curious who wrote it. I was hoping you could help me find her."

"You're dating Carly….?" She states, though it sounds like a question.

"Well, yeah, but –" But I don't know. "I don't know! I'm just curious, okay?"

"Okay, okay!" she raises a hand. "Jeez. No need to go all crazy."

After a few moments of silence on account of Sam reading the note over, I speak up. "So will you help me or not?"

She thinks for a second. "It'll cost you."

"Name your price."

"Three wedgies." She smirks. "Wherever, whenever."

"You do that anyway!" I grumble.

"Yep, but for these you can't be all 'Carly, scold Sam.' Got it?" She waits. With a sigh, I mumble an agreement. "Good. Now, here's what you do. She mentioned the masquerade thing, right? And it's tonight."

"Yeah…" I'm not sure exactly where she's going with this.

"So, go." She tells me, rolling her eyes as if it's obvious. "Maybe she'll show up and reveal herself." This surprises me, because it's actually a decent plan that doesn't involve illegal activity.

I think it over for a second, wondering if it's wrong. Eventually, I decide it's a no. It's not like I'd be going to the dance with the girl. I'd just be meeting her. Big difference. And anyway, there's no sure fire way to guarantee she'll reveal herself, or be there, for that matter. "You're sure this'll work?"

She shrugs. "It's worth a shot. Now leave."

"Wait." I tell her, and she surprisingly does. "I'm just wondering…"

"Yeah?" It's odd. She actually looks like she cares about what I'm saying. That doesn't happen very often. Or…well, at all.

"Why do you think she'd send me a note?" I ask her the same question I'd been wondering for hours. "I mean, like, instead of just telling me to my face?"

She exhales sharply. "How should I know?!" She pauses briefly. "She probably just isn't ready."

"Ready for what?"

"To put her feelings out in the open like that when there's a high chance of rejection." Sam explains. "My guess is she's not even ready to accept the feelings herself." I nod, wondering if Sam is right. "Now leave, and read the sign next time, will ya?!"


The lights in the gym are way too dim, and the music is way too loud, significantly adding temporary impair to my sense of sight and sound. It makes matters even worse when I'm wearing a hideous black mask that's too big for me. I borrowed it from Spencer. It was part of his burglar costume three years ago. He shoved it under his bed after he got arrested by accident. Apparently it brought back some unpleasant memories. It's also really itchy.

The entire room is a blur or masses of people in fancy clothes and strange masks, all falling together in one way or another. I feel kind of out of place. I've never liked dances. A lot because I can't dance.

Ten minutes into the thing, the question strikes again: What the heck am I doing? I'm standing here, looking like more of a dork then usual in Spencer's mask, being blinded and deafened by everything around me, all for some random girl who might not even be here. That's what I'm doing.

I shouldn't be here. I'm crazy. Sam is wrong, there's no way –

"Alright, y'all." The DJ cuts off the blasting music, but everyone is still talking loudly. "We're slowin' it down a little on this next one, for all you Romeo's and Juliet's out there. Everyone grab a partner!" A slow song I don't recognize begins to play, and honestly, I feel like it's my cue to leave. Especially with seeing all these couples forming on the floor. It makes me wish Carly were here. No. Not even Carly. Just anyone. Someone to be with, who understands.

It's a good thing I didn't find the mystery girl. It would've just made things more complicated anyway. So I begin making my way off the floor.

And then I probably jump about ten feet in the air when I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. I whirl around to face a girl. It's somewhat difficult to see her in the darkness. She's shorter than me, her hair blonde, long and straight. She's wearing a silver mask and dress. I sort of gaze in awe, but stop myself.

"Uh, hi." She says awkwardly. "I don't really have a dance partner…so I was wondering…"

"Uh, sure." I hear myself say, and then I mentally snap myself. You have a girlfriend, Freddie. I would just dance with her. That's it. No harm done.

We sort of start swaying to the music in time with each other. She says something, and I can barely hear her.

"What?" I ask loudly.

"I said 'the music is loud.'" She says with a laugh. I laugh along with her, suddenly realizing that there's something familiar about her. Something comforting and tangible.

"Yeah, it is." I agree. "So what's your name?"

Her eyes shift downward. "Uh, I'm not sure it's the best idea to tell you…"

I stare, confused. "Why?"

She bites her lip, looking nervous. "Well…"

Realization dawns on me, and it surprises me how happy it makes me that my mystery girl actually did reveal herself. "You wrote it, didn't you?"

"I know it was stupid," she sighs. "I know you love Carly a lot, and I don't wanna get in the way of that. I'm sorry to bug you." She turns to leave, and I act on impulse, pulling her back because of some unknown force.

I feel like I know her.

"Do you want to dance?" I ask her, my sensible side not reacting. "Like, actually dance?" As opposed to the awkward swaying from before.

She smiles carefully. "Yeah…okay…" I put her hands on her waist, and hers come up to my shoulders. We sway around to the music, and it's weird, because I hate dancing, but I feel like it doesn't matter. Something is telling me it shouldn't matter.

Throughout half the song, we're sort of staring all around, at anywhere but each other. This strange feeling submerges me, and I can't identify it. It's like my mind is foggy and can't function properly. I'm listening to a different organ, I guess.

Finally, our eyes meet, and even through her silver mask I can see her bright, piercing blue eyes. Where have I seen those eyes before? They're drawing me in, and all thoughts of Carly fade slowly away. I keep trying to draw them back in, to make sense of the situation, but she's so close to me, and….ugh, where have I seen her before? Why wouldn't it be lighter so I could see her better?

"You know," she whispers. "You're kind of dorky."

I smirk. "And you're okay with that."

"Very."

And something comes over me.

Maybe it's the fact that she is so familiar. Maybe it's because I feel like, somehow, I can relate to her in a way I'd never related to anyone before. Maybe it's her bright eyes piercing into mine. Maybe it's all three.

Whatever the reason, it happens. I pull her in and kiss her. And she kisses back.

Everything else melts away in the darkness. Chills emerge throughout all of me, and it just feels so perfect. Like fate. Like magic.

And –

Carly. Carly.

My eyes snap open, and I pull away abruptly. Her eyes fall, looking frustrated with herself. It's strange. The angry look in her eyes makes her feel even more familiar.

"I…Carly…we…" I search for words, but my mind is melted, scrambled and completely done with. Melted to goo. I don't know what to do, what to say. I just kissed my mystery girl, and I'm dating my fantasy girl.

"I gotta go." She says hurriedly, clearly upset. "It's fine. Whatever. I knew it wasn't meant to be anyway."

"Wait!" But she's already headed for the door. I watch as she pulls off her mask and throws it on the floor, the runs. I'm too far away to catch her, just as I was too far away to see her face. I quickly run over to pick up the mask, and carefully look it over before placing it in my pocket.

"Freddie! Hey!" I look up, shocked. It's Carly.

"What…what are…?" I can't even get the sentence out. I'm completely frazzled.

"The interview ended earlier than I'd thought." She says, looking me over. "Are you okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

I stare at Carly Shay. My girlfriend. She looks pretty in her pink dress. We probably look good together. We're the envy of the school. But why don't I like the idea much anymore?

Images fill my mind. Of 'Mystery Girl' and the looks she'd given me tonight. The way she made me feel like anything is possible. I picture her sitting in her silver dress and mask, writing me that note…She meant it.

All of it.

"I've been in this stupid battle, This mind battle, because honestly, writing this note, telling you these things, feeling this way, makes absolutely no sense.

But I like you. I might even more than like you."

"Carly?" I speak up. "Can I try something?" She looks confused for a moment, until she sees me leaning in a closes her eyes, still as a statue. Our lips meet and –

And nothing.

I pull away. "You were right. I'm sorry." So I tell her everything.

She understands, but I don't.

It's like what my mystery said had said, feeling this way makes absolutely no sense.


Saturday morning, I find myself back in Sam's room. I need advice. Lots of it.

"Sooo…" she says, elongating the word as I walk in. She's sitting on her bed. "How'd it go?" I notice she isn't looking at me. She's looking everywhere but me.

"I kind…" Um. "Kissed her."

Sam's eyes widen considerably. "You're dating Car –"

"I broke up with Carly." I tell Sam, walking over to lean on her desk beside her bed. "Actually we sort of broke up with each other, decoded to be just friends."

Her mouth falls open, but she quickly recovers. "Who are you and what have you done with Freddie?"

"Ha ha, Puckett. Very funny." I actually don't find it amusing at all.

"Seriously, Benson." She says, looking completely freaked out. "Why would you dump Carly?! You've been chasing after her half your life!"

I think about my answer carefully, wanting to mean it. "There was just something about her, Sam. I dunno. I felt like I knew her. I felt like everything was right in the world when I was with her."

"You're such a geek, with your analogies." She says, not sounding all that confident. She actually looks slightly panicked, and she still hasn't looked at me. "Do you even know her name?"

"No." I tell her sadly. I pull out the silver mask she'd left. "But she dropped this, so maybe she'll want it back."

"Maybe…" She now looks completely panicked, and stands up, abruptly. "I need some Sam." And she rushes out. Well, that was weird. I wonder what's driving her so nuts.

I inhale, exhale, and then look at what's on her desk while she's hamming it up.

Huh, nothing too exciting. Empty bucket of KFC, dusty math textbook, stationary with red flower border, diet Coke, h – WAIT.

I stare, wide-eyed, at the stationary in front of me. It's the same as the note.

But…but then…that would mean…

"You know, you're kind of dorky."

Oh my god.

With a jolt, I stand up from her desk and race to her closet, my heart pounding. I swing open the door, and there it is, in plain sight. The silver dress.

I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding, and smile.

I found her.


FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

Sam Puckett sighs, frustrated, as she finishes off the last of her ham. Though it is tasty, it's not decreasing the possibly unhealthy rate in which her heart is beating.

She didn't mean for this to happen. She didn't mean to open Freddie's locker with her kit, she didn't mean to write that note, she didn't mean to lead him on into thinking that his mystery girl was someone special…she didn't mean to kiss him back.

Or maybe she did. Maybe she meant it with all her heart, but she knows she shouldn't.

Halfway through her ham intake, she'd made a decision. She needs to set Freddie straight, to tell him that it was her, not some incredible girl that can make him feel invincible. It is getting too out-of-hand. She doesn't want her dork to end up disappointed to find her at the end of his mystery request.

She mentally prepares herself as she walks up the stairs and back into her room.

Freddie is gone. I guess he must've left quietly while I was eating. She would just have to write him another note from her grandma's girly stationary. It would save her the embarrassment, anyway.

So she sits down at her desk and grabs a pencil, expecting to see a blank stationary page. But instead, she finds something she didn't quite expect.

Mystery Girl's silver mask is atop the stationary pad. Right underneath is a note.

Whenever you're ready, Puckett.

Love, Freddie


A/N: GAH, I am SO sorry for the lack of updates. I've been crazy busy, so I thought this'd be a treat. It certainly boosted my Seddie craze writing it, lol. Did you guys like it? I hope so!

Oh, and wasn't iHurt Lewbert so incredibly Seddie?

To Nature9000- Don't worry, I promise I will read all your updates! I feel bad because I keep running out of time.

Excuses errors, please. I'm tired!

Later!

-Colors