Sam sat on her blue duvet, leaning into her pillow, her knees bent and her foot on her right knee, scraping a foot file across her heel and her mobile pressed between her shoulder and her ear. She was lazily filing her heel onto her bed, not bothered much by the mess. "Yes Carly. I'll talk to him, I promise," she said, referring to Freddie and this problem he was in. She heaved a sigh, trying to balance her concentration between both tasks. Listening to Carly and removing dead skin from her heel. They both seemed equally important right now. "Now why would I help Freddie? He could probably fight on his own, right? Heh. Who am I kidding. He has the emotional stability of a pregnant woman and the physical stability of a six year old…girl."
"Come on, Sam. You and I both know Gibby's gonna kick his butt for flirting with his girlfriend." Sam sat up, stopped filing, frowned at the phone then continued filing. She chewed down on her lip then moved to the end of her bed, filing her skin onto the floor.
"Was he flirting with Tasha?" Sam asked, trying to sound nonchalant as if she was asking someone to pass the barbeque sauce. She never liked Tasha, from the moment she'd met her which in hilarious fact was when she went to the Gibson house to ask Gibby to the dance. The silence on the phone between the two of them irked Sam to no end, though she didn't voice her frustration as she waited filing and filing and filing. The sandpaper sound was starting to bug her.
"Uh, I don't really know. I wasn't there, but Freddie insists it was just a rumour," Carly said, in a tone that implied assurance towards Sam. This worried her quite a bit – Carly's tone of voice – and made her suspicious as to how much Carly thought she knew. She pressed her shoulder to her phone and used her free hand to rake her fingers through her flaxen, knotted locks. She put her hand over the phone, leaning into it, her elbow on her unoccupied leg. She must've let slip the balance of concentration on both tasks, as she informed Carly of her dead-skinned heel. "Man, with this much dead skin I could make another foot," she commented, throwing the filer off to the side and shuffling back up the bed leaning against the navy headboard.
"Smooth as a baby's bottom," she added with a slap to her foot. "Sorry Carls, ignore me. Continue," she quickly said.
"Uh, okay. Anyway, you're going to have to fight Gibby. You're the only person he's scared of, other than his mum of course – well, only when she's angry about his ripped underwear," Carly pleaded, then added a forced cough to the end of her last sentence. Sam rolled her eyes, turning onto her side and resting her head on her phone. It was about half an hour until midnight, which was a genuine reason for her to be worried about something because Carly doesn't stay awake past ten.
"Dude, if it'll get you to stop calling me when I'm getting my stomach sleep, fine." Carly let out a small squeal.
"Wait, stomach sleep? Don't you mean beauty sleep?" Carly inquired.
"My stomach needs its beauty too."
Carly chuckled, "Night Puckett."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I am a dedicated MMA watcher, you know. I could take Gibson down with just my pinkie finger." Freddie weighed the options in his head. Get beat up a championship black belt shirtless boxer or let a championship bully scare him away. Option number two, please. Freddie nodded, finally agreeing this was the right thing to do. He'd later explain to Gibby why this had to be done, all would be forgiven. Everything would be completely, utterly, totally normal. Normality will be fully restored. Normal, normal, normal. Breath in. Out. In. Out.
Sigh. "Okay, Sam. He's coming down the stairs now. I'm hiding in Rodney's locker, good luck." Freddie ran off, bumped fists with Rodney and slipped him ten dollars and found refuge in Rodney's locker (it was the only locker in the school that was top and bottom), his eyes peering through the vent. I don't need luck, she thought. She laughed in the face of that thought – she humiliated and violently abused Gibby most days. This was nothing new. He strolled up to her and unzipped his white jacket. It looked pretty gay if you asked Sam, with a silver star on the front. Anyway, he unzipped it and underneath – no shirt. Very Gibby.
"You seen Freddie, Sam. Daddy's about to show him what an angry boyfriend looks like." Sam ignored how totally off-subject and weird that grammatically incorrect sentence sounded and slapped Gibby with the stick of salami in her hand. He stumbled backwards and wiped his face with the back of his hand. Sam stepped forward, grabbing Gibby by the collar. "You lay one finger on Fredward and you're dead meat. You know what I do with dead meat?"
"Uh, well most of the time you…" Gibby gulped, "eat it." Sam raised an eyebrow.
"No. Well, yeah. But that's beside the point. You gonna leave Benson alone so he can carry on being an unharmed nub? Yeah, you are. Okay?" Sam said, patting down Gibby's collar and biting her salami stick. Gibby nodded, picking up his gay yet oddly awesome jacket and running back up the stairs. Sam turned around, seeing Carly giving her the thumbs up then walking into class. She jogged up to Rodney and nudged him. "I'm done here. You can let him out now."
"I'll unlock it as soon as you pay me twenty dollars, cash."
"It was only ten to get in," Sam objected, slapping Rodney with her salami. What? She enjoyed slapping victims with meat by-products.
"Yeah, well now it's twenty to get out. They don't call me Rip Off Rodney for nothin', babe." Sam grabbed his collar. That's the second collar she's grabbed today. She felt in a collar grabbing mood. Yeah, a collar grabbing and salami slapping mood. She'd put that as her new status on Splash Face when she got back to Carly's.
"Don't touch the doodies, Puckett. Unless you want your boyfriend out of the locker. Hurt me and you aint' getting the combo." Freddie protested from inside the locker. Sam punched the locker and smiled in satisfaction as she heard a groan.
"First off, calling clothes doodies is lame. Second, Count Fredula is not my boyfriend."
"Whatever. All I know is my ten is getting lonely and needs some company, and until then, he's stuck in there."
"Don't you need your books?" Rodney pointed at his backpack. Sam growled.
"I only have thirteen dollars, a piece of string, a fork and…" Sam said, digging into her pocket, "Well I'm not really sure what that is. I think it's beef jerky, but it's kinda green so I don't really know. Let's just say it's vintage."
"20 dollars. Final offer. By the end of the day, Sammy." He'd slapped her butt before he ran into class after Carly, tucking his ten dollars into his back pocket. Sam wanted to hit him so bad, she wanted to hit something. She slammed her fist into the locker, said a quick sorry as she heard the painful yelp and sighed. She took a seat on the floor, leaning against Rodney's locker. Heh, she was gonna skip Math anyway so she might as well keep him company.
"So," Freddie broke the silence. "Thanks for sticking up for me." Sam grunted in response, knowing full well if Carly hadn't forced her too last night, the thought wouldn't have crossed her mind. Okay, so maybe that was a big lie, but who cares. Sam was cool with Freddie not knowing about her feelings, hey she didn't even really know much about her feelings either. All she knew was it was getting harder to make fun of the nub stuck in the locker because looking up at him lessened the intimidation and his eyes and lips were pretty distracting and sometimes she couldn't finish her sentences/threats.
But she was totally cool living with that constant pain. Yeah, whatever.
"Don't get used to it, Benson." What? Just because she may not dislike him as much, doesn't mean she's going to stop playing the last name game. She liked the way his lips meshed whenever he said Princess Puckett, so it was going to continue.
Sam stood to her feet, peering though the vent. "You got any money in there?"
"I have four dollars, but that's for a bus ticket."
"You won't be getting out of the locker if you don't hand that over." Freddie dug his hand into his back pocket and slipped the money to Sam. In truth, Freddie had another two dollars in his front pocket but for some reason, he didn't want Sam to leave.
"Be right back." Freddie watched her walk over to Gibby's locker, give it two punches and the locker sprang open. Sam rifled through it and then closed it, walking back up to Rodney's locker. "Okay, we're done here," Sam cheered, walking into Miss Briggs English Class and handing the money over to Rodney. She and him both ignored Briggs as Rodney counted the money and gave Sam a slip of paper with his locker combination on it. She strode out of the classroom, with a wave at Carly and an arrogant smirk at Miss Briggs and shut the door behind her. Freddie knocked his head twice into the side of the locker at his failed attempt to keep himself in the locker and Sam in the conversation but before he knew it, Sam's fingers were turning the dial and he was falling onto his hands knees. He sighed as he stood up, brushing his hands against his jeans.
"Woah, baby!" Sam said, taken back, as Freddie looked at her.
"Well, I don't like to brag," Freddie said, carding a hand suavely through his hair which earned him a punch in the shoulder. He grunted and rubbed his upper arm, narrowing his brown eyes at the offender.
"No, doofus. You're nose is bleeding. A damn lot."
Freddie touched his fingers to his upper lip, and upon seeing the blood on his hand he began to freak. "O-O-Oh my," he stuttered, dropping to the floor in a recovery position. Sam held in her laughter, though she was greatly amused by the panorama unfolding before her. "Okay, mum gave me a manual entirely on what to do in this situation," he mumbled quickly, in a panic, to himself. Sam let out a laugh disguised as a cough into her hand as she lowered the cough as Freddie looked at her, putting a faux serious look on her face with a crease in her brow. "Gosh darn, why didn't I read the stupid manual," he ranted, arching his back to lean his head far back.
Sam rolled her eyes and looked for the nearest toilet. It was the men's restroom but she shook her head and held her nose as she walked in. Thankfully, it didn't smell so she grabbed some paper towels and wet them under the tap. She jogged back to the door, pushing it open halfway. "Come on, Fredula," she snapped, nodding her head towards the empty restroom. He wriggled in his foetus position and shook his head, to which Sam responded by kicking him in the butt. He yelped as he stood to his feet grabbing his bag, allowing Sam to drag him by the collar into the restroom.
"Sit on up there," Sam instructed like some kind of school nurse (he wondered why he didn't just walk out of there and to the nurses office), jabbing finger in the direction of the counter where the sinks were located. Freddie sighed dropping his backpack, not even bothering to argue with her as he jumped up onto the countertop in between two sinks, his head leant back with a terrified look on his face. Sam wet the paper towel more and stood in front of Freddie. He looked down at her with worried eyes.
"Well, lean." He gulped at the familiarity of the instruction but she didn't seem to recognise the imperative as a novelty of last year's past. He leaned down and watched her face cautiously as she tilted his head back into the palm of her hand and began to dab at his nose. He winced slightly but it didn't surprise him much as she took no notice of his pain and continued clearing the blood. "I'm guessing this is my fault. I shouldn't have got angry and punched the locker when Rodney called you my boyfriend."
"Why? You mean you shouldn't have got angry and punched the locker, or you shouldn't have got angry because he called me your boyfriend?" Wow, Freddie's feeling bold. Sam mused over this, the different ways of answering and the reactions that Freddie would have. She didn't know what to say, the former or the latter. She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and kept her gaze on the wet paper towel as it swept over his top lip, wetting it so now it was sort of glistening under the glare of the restroom light. Sam chuckled lowly at how trashy that thought sounded then paused, answering him. "Both, I guess."
Freddie flinched away from the paper towel. Sam ran a hand through her hair, thinking how hot the restroom was. She didn't know whether he flinched at what she said, or at his bloody nose but he soon pressed his upper lip back to the paper towel. Sam was still as she met his gaze. She wanted to make his nose bloodier, but the hand that was on the back of his head stayed where it was and Freddie leaned forward so her hand slipped to his neck. He shakily jumped off the counter, keeping her blue eyes locked with his chocolate ones. They should be fighting right now, not staring at each other with heated gazes. She should be straddling his back and bending his leg to his back and pulling fistfuls of his hair up whilst he makes attempted grabs at her hair, which was her only weakness.
But no, Sam was just still and so was he. They both had no idea what was happening. Nothing was happening, that was what. They weren't leaning away from each other, readying themselves for an argument but they weren't leaning towards each other either, readying themselves for a head butt or…a kiss.
The thought was fleeting in Freddie's mind and he pushed it away in a failed attempt, but it was very well on Sam's mind as her breathing hitched, her other hand dropping the paper towel into the sink and meeting her other hand on the back of his neck where her fingers locked. That was weird. This was so weird and Freddie thought about running as he stared at the door but as soon as he looked back into her eyes then a flickering glance down at her lips, it suddenly came to him. The confidence. They hadn't been in this territory before, and he felt the need to be bold.
And in a second, everything changed. Freddie had made the move, leaning his head the ninety percent which was required, as said in the unwritten guy rule book. All he had to do now, was wait for the unruly blonde to go the extra ten. She watched his eyes shine then flutter closed. She thought about everything that had happened in the past hour and closed her eyes, taking the risk.
She pushed herself onto her tip-toes, unlinking her hands and crossing her arms around his neck in an effort to get closer. Once he was sure she was going to kiss him, his hands immediately flew around her waist, hands on her lower back, almost too low but to Sam's liking. She had admittedly wished herself in this situation for a few months now. Not until five minutes ago had Freddie realised himself to be attracted to Sam. And he let that thought linger in his head as Sam pressed her lips to his hungrily. His lips tasted like spearmint and hers tasted like he imagined; root beer and sugary processed foods. His mouth upturned, smiling into her lips. His hand involuntarily slipped under her shirt and he rubbed circles into her lower back with his thumb. She took in the smell of shampoo and his cologne smelled like coffee.
She felt him lick at her lips and she parted her lips to let him in. She'd never gone this far with any other boy and didn't really know what to do. But he seemed to. His tongue explored his mouth and she responded by biting his tongue lightly and deciding she needed to breathe. She pulled back, breathing erratically. Before Freddie could even open his eyes, Sam pulled his body to hers and attached her lips to his in yet another bruising kiss. She bit at his lip and he welcomed her in, letting her explore his spearmint tasting mouth. Freddie involuntarily groaned, and pulled away embarrassed by his outburst, slapping a hand over his mouth. Sam chuckled and wrapped her arms around his torso, dropping flat onto her feet and nipping at his neck. He turned them both around and pushed her against the sink.
He let out a squeak as she bit into his the skin under his collar bone, giving him a hickey. Sam Puckett just gave him a hickey. He tried to laugh at the unbelievable circumstance but his laugh was masked by a less embarrassing and less emasculating moan as her hands ran down his back and slipped into his back pockets.
Finally, there lips unattached eliciting a grunt from Freddie, but there hands remained where they were. Sam looked up at him from under her thick eyelashes. "Wh--"
Freddie shushed her with another quick kiss. "Don't ruin this, Sam. Please don't tell me this means nothing." Sam looked away, and Freddie sighed.
"Of course this means something Freddie," he looked at her hopefully. "I'm just not sure what."
"I think it means you like me," he said with a cheeky smile.
"I think it means you're a loser," she jabbed back, slipping a hand out of his left pocket and jabbing him in the side.
Before he could respond, Sam interrupted, "Please don't say something gross and stupid like "I'm your loser." I'll throw up all over your new shoes if you do." Sam gagged, and Freddie let out a small laugh knowing full well that was exactly what he was going to say but he shrugged it off and concealed that fact.
"I-I was just going to say that I like you too," he was obviously going to get to that. Sam grinned, avoiding his eyes but he turned her head back to his with a finger under her chin. He placed a light, almost non-existent kiss on the side of her mouth and smiled at her. "How trashy is this. We just made out in the boy's bathroom?" Freddie commented as Sam pulled away from him and picked up his backpack.
"Hm, yeah," Sam said as she licked her lips, throwing her own bag on.
"Well, this was nice." Sam nodded in agreement.
"It was good."
"You make me feel…alive," he chuckled, placing a kiss on her cheek.
"As apposed to feeling dead?"
"Guess so," Freddie responded and slung an arm around her shoulder as he opened the bathroom door. "Who said you could put your arm round my shoulder. It's not like you're my boyfriend now. Maybe I just wanted to kiss you, for no reason in particular," Sam said. Freddie dropped his arm from her shoulder and stopped outside the bathroom, staring at her with an angry yet innocent look on his face. She laughed and they came to a silent agreement. They were officially a couple. Wow, that sounded so weird in Sam's head. She grabbed for his hand as they walked, linking their fingers. He smiled.