IDid This for a Reason

Limping, I'm reluctant to open the door to the Shay residence. I told myself it was either here, or enter my own apartment, which was more like committing social suicide. There was no way I was letting my overprotective mother see me yet. So I turned the knob and slowly walked in.

Carly and Sam sat on the couch watching their favorite show, Girly Cow. I never got what was so great about that show. Without even turning, Sam said, "What up, Freducinni?"

"Not much," I replied, trying to stifle my pain. "Could I get some help please?"

Carly turned, and immediately, her eyes grew wide. She rushed over to me to help me to the couch.

"Oh my gosh! What happened?"

"I got in a fight." I winced as I took a seat between Carly and Sam.

"Figures you'd get hurt." Sam lifted my arm and flailed it. "Look at these noodle arms."

Carly returned from the kitchen in which she was in with a wet cloth. She dabbed at a wound on my forehead. I winced again. She gasped when she saw my stained shirt.

"Freddie! There's blood on your shirt!"

"It's the other guys'."

Sam was definitely surprised. "Maybe I was wrong. Our little Fredward's growing up!" She ruffled my already mussed hair.

"So what happened?" Carly questioned.

"Well, you know how Sam broke up with Toby yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"That jerk," Sam added angrily.

'Well, after baseball practice today, he started saying some things about Sam."

"Like what?"

'Well…." I hesitated, afraid I was about to set Sam on a rampage. "He told some of his buddies you were just a guy in a wig."

I expected Sam to go chase him down and murder him, but she sat there in silence. Solemn.

"He said that?" she asked in a hurt tone.

"Yeah. So I told him to stop talking about you like that. Then he shoved me and asked what I was gonna do about it. I calmly told him I didn't want to fight. Then, he said, 'Of course not, wimp'. So I spun him around, then hauled off and punched him in the face. That's what started the huge fight."

"So, basically, you got whooped," Carly said, more a statement than a question.

"No," I smiled. "I broke his arm."

Sam smiled, too. "You broke his arm for…………for me?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Then, in a surprise attack, she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tight.

"For a dork, you're not so bad Fredweird."

I gasped, "Yeah. That's great and all, but I think you're bruising my bruises."

Sam laughed and let go. "Ah, a little pain won't hurt ya. It builds character."

"There's my Sam," I smiled.

"Huh?" she asked, confused.

"I was getting worried there for a second. You were actually being nice to me."

That's when the door burst open.

"Freddie! What happened?"

"I got in a fight but…"

"Fredward Benson! What did I tell you about violence?!"

"Mom! It's okay!"

I ended up getting drug back to my apartment, grounded for two months, and sent to bed. But I didn't care.

I was one step closer to winning Sam over.