(Author's Note: This was just spit out when I was taking a break from my art commissions. Prepare for grammatical errors. Otherwise enjoy.)


He's gotten taller lately. His voice is dropping too – no longer does it squeak in annoyance or crack when he yells. It's all pretty much one level.

He's not as lanky as he used to be either. His arms are thicker, his frame more slender than tiny. He's still wearing two shirts, collared shirts, the same stuff he used to – but it fits him differently now. He doesn't look like he's hiding behind large shirts. In fact, he looks downright cozy. One could curl up on his shoulder and sleep for days.

God, what am I thinking?

Shake it off, Puckett. Don't be an idiot.

I can't deny he's changed though. I hit him the other day. And that motherfucker hit me back. Never thought he'd ever get up the nerve, to be honest.

And he smiles a lot more now – not that he didn't before. It's just different now. It's… smug. I've noticed how those full lips poke out and roll into this twisted little smirk that I'm fairly sure he learned from me. He couldn't look so wicked on his own. Definitely not.

Maybe it's because he does his hair now or something. He's making the effort. I thought it was to get Carly's attention first.

But he doesn't seem too upset when she ignores his advances. I do find it kinda funny that I can beat the crap out of him and she's crueler to him than I am without even realizing. She can't help it. Carly's fucking loveable. She just doesn't share it with everyone. Sorry, Fredward. Just friends for you two. Do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred bucks. Better luck next time.

When did he get taller than me, anyway? When did I have to start looking up at him to scowl? When did I start wondering if he was watching me from up above my head? It's creepy. Sends little tingles from my stomach up and down my arms. At least, I think he's giving me the creeps. Can Freddork do that? I mean, it's not like he's pulling his shirt off every five minutes like Gibby. That's creepy.

On Gibby it is at least.

Not sure what it would be like with Fredward.

Not really willing to think about it, to be honest.



No. Do not want.

He can raise his eyebrow. I just noticed that, and I know he's being doing it for years. It gives him this smart look, like he's questioning the world and why it is the way it is. Then again, if you knew someone like me or Spencer Shay or even Carly sometimes, you'd be puzzled too.

Not that I find myself all that interesting. Tough. Not interesting.

I think he does though.

Maybe that's why he watches me with that confused look.

Paired with that smirk of his, it's a deadly combination.

Not that I'd ever tell him that or anything. Wait. What? What's there to tell?

I'm losing it, I swear.

He grabs my shoulder and says something. I'm not paying attention. I don't really pay much attention to him anyway. I have noticed how big his hands have gotten though.

When the hell did he grow so much? Maybe I'm shrinking? Did someone get a memo that I didn't? Carly doesn't seem all that surprised.

Then again, she doesn't spend the majority of her time trying to body slam him.

It's getting a bit harder to do that nowadays.

Maybe I need to drink some more milk or something. Or he needs to stop shoveling his mommy's vegetables in his mouth. We can't have Freddie getting tough on us. Someone's gotta keep him in line, after all. Why shouldn't that be me?

Is he still talking? Why's his hand so warm? It's warming my shoulder all the way down to my chest! Jeez! How hot blooded is this kid? Considering his mom's more like a lizard, I always expected his hands to be really cold. I yank away from him and look at him like he's lost his damn mind – even though I have no idea what he just said.

"I have better things to do than listen to you."

I really don't. But whatever. I'll hang with Carly and try to forget about it. I must be getting sick or something. Cause I don't feel right. I feel really weird. Freditis or something. Maybe we can make an iCarly skit about it. No. No no no. I'm not telling Carly about this. Bad idea, Puckett. We all know what she'll assume. After she found out we kissed? Yeah, she's just think I was…

That's stupid.



What just happened?

Okay, Freddie – let's regroup here. Think back on the past few minutes. I was standing by the lockers, waiting for Carly and Sam, and out comes Sam from her class. She just seemed different. She's seemed different to me lately. Maybe it's the new viewpoint I'm seeing her at. I'm honestly not sure if I've grown or she's shrunk. I don't feel like I've grown – but my clothes don't fit right anymore and I've had to buy new ones, so logically, I assume I've gotten taller. Maybe she's angry cause she's not able to take me down so easily anymore.

That makes me pretty happy, actually. So why do I feel so burned right now?

She's always been really skinny – like, boy skinny. But now she's… Oh, how do I put this politely? She's… filled out, I guess. Not a lot – not like Carly. Ooh, I should probably stop thinking on how my two friends have filled out. What kind of disgusting freak am I?

Oh yeah, I'm a boy. I guess that explains everything, doesn't it?

Anyway, she just looks distracted today, so I finally got up the nerve to ask her what was wrong. Yeah, I'm aware I was risking my neck, but I am her friend, so I have a right to be concerned.

When I saw her from the side, she seemed like a completely different person. She hadn't seen me at that point, I don't think. There was this soft look to her – feminine. If I ever told her that, she'd throw me off the top of my apartment building or something worse. Either way, it wouldn't bode well for poor Freddie Benson. My name would be in the obituaries. But her lips are plump, her eyelashes are long, and her hair is actually somewhat manageable today. She must have used Carly's shampoo and conditioner or something. Or maybe she's actually brushing it when she gets up now.

After all, being friends with Carly tends to make you work on your appearance. Never want to be too outshined by her – even if she can't help she's naturally beautiful.

…Carly, I mean. Not Sam. Carly. Carly's the pretty one. Carly's the one I'm infatuated with.

We've been over this, I'm sure.

Sam's interesting though.

Definitely an intriguing woman.

Wow, that's weird – referring to her as a woman. She's a girl, yeah. I took the humiliating sex education class. I know how everything works down there and all that – but I've never really thought of her as a member of the opposite sex. She's just…



They should name a new gender after her. Woman just doesn't describe her well enough.

Ugh. What am I thinking?

Shake it off, Benson. You're going insane. Maybe she's delivered one too many blows to your head.

So I approached her. I put my hand on her shoulder – you know, friendly fashion and all that. Besides, it helps me feel the muscle in her shoulder so I know if she's going to wheel around and hurt me in some horrifying fashion.

God, her shoulder is hot. Did she have a jacket on or something?

She tensed. But she didn't turn around. It's like I startled her.

I guess she was distracted.

My curious nature begs to know why.

So I asked her. But she never answered. She just stood there, staring into the locker as if she could disappear into it, pearly teeth slipping over that fleshy bottom lip and causing it to redden slightly.

I can't help but think it was a bit reckless.

Touching Sam Puckett tends to be… dangerous.

I ramble for a few minutes, but I know she's not listening, so I finally ask her why she isn't.

"I have better things to do than listen to you."

Ouch. My pride.

Don't know why it burned so much, but it did, as the venom spewed over those lips of hers. I can't believe I kissed them and didn't die from poison or anything. She didn't take me off to her lair and wrap me up in some cocoon to save for feasting later. Yikes.

No, actually.

Kissing her wasn't bad at all. It was a while ago, but I can remember it pretty clearly. My first kiss.

With a girl I can hardly stand.

Or at least, I think I can hardly stand her.

I mean, I spend a lot of time with her considering I hate her.

When Carly's not in town, we pretty much mope around my apartment or the Groovy Smoothie as if our worlds have been tarnished and we're stuck with each other. She fiddles with the straw in her drink and I watch with an oddly keen interest. She's completely different without Carly around. She's quite a bit more reserved and sad looking. It kinda makes me want to pull her close and give her a hug, just to cheer her up.

I'm sure the body slam she'd deliver in return would put a huge grin on her face.

Hugging her seems like a weird notion. I mean, what if she didn't hurt me? What then? I wouldn't know what to do? The numbers wouldn't add up. Two plus two doesn't equal five, unless you're Gibby. I imagine she'd be rather warm if she'd allow it. Maybe she'd smile into my chest, and I'd actually feel accomplished in making someone else who was really hard to please smile. And I wouldn't even have to take a pie to the face for it.

Woah, there Benson. You are treading a very fine line here. And I'm fairly sure you don't want to cross it.

At least, if you don't want you testicles embedded inside of you.

That makes me shudder.

She stalked off. I watch her go.

Well, I'm not telling Carly about this. Nope. Not gonna. After we kissed and all, she's gonna think we're awkward because… no way. That we liked each other or…

No way.

That's stupid.