On Their Knees, An iCarly fiction
I do not own iCarly. Please review.
She angrily stabs the smile of raisins Spencer put in her oatmeal. One sags down, and the face looks like it's winking. Now it looks worse than before, and she proceeds to jab at the other eye. She's really picturing it's his face.
He sits at a table for one, sucking a fruit smoothie through a curly straw. It's giving him brain freeze. Normally, he'd grasp his head in pain and cry out. But today he doesn't care. A numb mind is keeping his mind off of her.
She disposes of the now empty bowl in the sink. Specks of oatmeal stain the edges, but she disregards them. She doesn't have time to wash her dish.
Eventually the cup is hollow and the only thing traveling up his straw is air. The brain freeze no longer preoccupies him. Had it always been so eerily quiet on a Saturday?
Maybe she should explain. A little tight on cash, Carly had decided to fill the position of counter girl at Groovy Smoothie for the summer. She had been hyped up about getting her friends discounts on their favorite drinks. It was all going to be amazing.
That is, until Freddie walked in. She had been feeling closer to him lately, and was eager to give him her first discount smoothie, a blueberry mango. She handed over the large cup and watched as he took a long sip.
"So do you like it?" she had asked, hoping her first drink wouldn't be her last. He released the straw and took a deep breath. She prepared for the worst. Unfortunately she had prepared for the wrong response.
"Yeah. It's great. I'm really going to miss this place." He continued to suck on it again, taking in big gulps. Carly was confused.
"What do you mean? We're not closing. At least I don't think we are." She looked around for wrecking balls or moving trucks, anything that showed her it was the end. It couldn't be though; she had just started yesterday.
"That's what I came here to tell you. My mom is making me be a counselor at this one summer camp. I'm going to be gone for about two months. And unless I am mistaken there is no Groovy Smoothie at camp." He pulled the straw up and down. It squeaked with every motion. It seemed as through he was doing it solely to keep noise around them.
"When do you leave?" Her voice was sullen. Her eyes had shrunk back, a feeling of disappointment washed over her. She stood up tall, and tried to be happy for him. It's what he'd want right? That's what she told herself anyways.
A man with bushy eyebrows and a bouncy gait came and stood behind Freddie. Freddie ignored him. "Tomorrow night." He grabbed Carly's hand. "I would've told you sooner, but she just sprang this on me at the last minute. I gotta go pack."
She squeezed his hand, silently begging him to stay. His eyes bore into hers. The guy interrupted their moment. "Are you two going to kiss?" His pudgy face wore an eager expression. By now, he had forgotten all about that raspberry smoothie he was going to order. He'd much rather have popcorn. Then he could observe like the movie goers that binge on popcorn during the juicy scenes at the theater.
Freddie looked away. Well, he had been planning that by maybe some slim chance of fate, there was a slight possibility he could've just leaned across the counter and put the tiniest of pecks on her cheek. And maybe Carly had been planning to grab his face and kiss his button nose again. But neither of them were going to admit that.
"What kind of smoothie can I get you sir?" She let go of her grip on his hand and the moment was lost. He walked out with the rest of his smoothie.
Maybe he should explain. Desperate to avoid another summer with his mother, he jumped at the opportunity to be a camp counselor. He hadn't really thought things through and on the agonizingly long car trip up there in which his mom detailed every safety procedure she could possibly think of his mind drifted to what he was leaving behind. Or rather, who he was leaving behind. The scene was on repeat in his mind.
After being assured that the medical cabin had plenty of medicines to keep her son safe, Mrs. Benson left. Freddie pulled a sunny yellow t-shirt over his head. He felt anything but. How was he expect to help kids with their problems when he couldn't even solve his own? Regardless, he straightened his baseball cap and trudged on.
At camp, he met another counselor. It had turned out she was his cousin on his dad's side. She spent most of her afternoons telling him all about the missing half of his family. He never got to know his dad's side of the family before he left and now he was finally learning more about himself then he ever knew.
Carly had come up one weekend with Spencer to visit. They were coming to see a Cuddlefish concert nearby. Seeing his cousin and him together made her jump to some conclusions. He hadn't had a chance to update her since my cell has like zero signal out here. That weekend was just the start of it all.
Now, Carly opens the door to Groovy Smoothie. Her shift starts in ten minutes. There is a long line thanks to the August heat. She groans to herself, pulling her hair back into a sloppy ponytail. She elbows her way to the register.
Freddie stares dejectedly into the bottom of his cup. No matter how long he stares, it's not going to refill itself. That's what his brain keeps telling him. He liked it better when it was frozen. So he gets up, and back in line. He's hoping if he stays here long enough he'll have to catch her shift. Then he'll get on his knees and plead her to listen.
It's ten minutes later and the crowd has died down. He's the last one in line. So he gets down, on both knees. He's not going to propose. At least, nothing like what the customers are thinking. He proposes that she hears him out. She says yes. She tells herself it's only because he's on his knees. The voice nagging her in the back of her mind is telling her otherwise.
He explains what happened. He goes farther than he planned. She wasn't supposed to know about the countless letters he tried to write her before crumpling them up and throwing them away. She wasn't supposed to know how he met one kid that looked like a cross between the two of them. He had pictured himself as a full grown man, trying to teach her how to play baseball in the backyard. He pictured a pregnant Carly giggling softly as his daughter tried to convince him to play Barbies with her. She wasn't supposed to know.
It surprised him as she lowered down on her knees to be eye level with him. He'd half expected her to slap him. The other half of him was hopeful. And then Freddie felt a presence behind him. One that just happened to have bushy eyebrows and a pudgy face.
"Are you sure you guys aren't going to kiss?" They stood up. The moment was yet again broken. Freddie grabbed his cup and took a long, annoyed sip. He slammed the cup down against the counter. The man left them alone.
They were so close now that he was gone. All he had to do was lean forward and boom. Sparks would fly.
"I'm sorry I stabbed your oatmeal face," she blurted. He jerked back.
"I was oatmeal face?" She nodded, ashamed. "What kind of oatmeal?" he asked curiously. She leaned forward and kissed him.
"I rather like that kind."