


iSaid Hello To You

by Slytherfoot



Category: iCarly
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2015-03-28 11:19:25
Rating: T
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,079
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7197586/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2793041/Slytherfoot
Summary: It started with a simple hello, but can it end with a just as simple good bye? We watch as Sam and Freddie grow together, sharing struggles and protecting each other, sharing true colours and mixing with each others feelings. Seddie. R&R Please!





	1. iSaid Hello To You

iSaid Hello, Is There A Problem With That?

**Kishigo: Hey! It's me! This idea came to me today and I decided to write it! I'm still wondering if I should make it a life story (Maybe even being an epilogue sort of thing for another one of my stories or something) or keep it as a simple one-shot. It was left like it is for renewal purposes and stuff- Don't get psyched about it. I have 7 other stories to juggle and I have no idea why I uploaded this,e but I did. If I am going to continue it, don't expect ti to be that long or updated that quickly- I'm already doing the best I can. I don't own iCarly, enjoy! Seddie!**

_Ridgeway School, Seattle_. The fate of the most beloved web show comedians on the internet.

Before we got to the dramatic romances, angst-y relationships, and jealous sibling rivalry though, we were stuck with young age and prospering development. Specifically, young childhood years.

Many memories taunt us as we so desperately wish to return to the past, just for one day and relive our 'Happy, gleeful and divine childhoods.'

Honestly, I never felt that way. Maybe it was because of that one day, that day everything that changed. It wasn't necessarily a _bad_ day, but it surely wasn't one of my favorites, granted. What was this day? Heh, I'll give you that one.

_The first day of grade school_.

It's the day of first friendship, the day of first impressions, the day of first real school work.

And sometimes, if you're lucky...

...The day of first love.

That is how to term of _love at first sight started_, right? A simple gesture of kindness and a perk of the lips to form a smile. A lot of people don't believe in first love...

...But I do. I'm feeling it right now. This very second really.

Recalling these occurrences, it's like reliving the memories all over again. Sharing the moment and spicing it with the crazy innuendoes you only realize were wrong or hilariously embarrassing now.

Nervous, really, sometimes it is a little disturbing, and sometimes you look back at it and face palm as you watch yourself do the stupidest things for the stupidest reasons. Wether it is hollering at one of the boys for sneaking a peak of the girls bathroom or crying because someone stole your lunch money, well, that's irrelevant.

You were still stupid.

I remember one day specifically. Ok, so it wasn't a day, more like a session, an amount of time that I don't consider to be important because it was on the first day of school, but because it changed my life _forever_.

It was the recess me and Freddie Benson met.

The recess I... Broke my arm...

_Yeaah_... Let me just tell you the story.

The bell rang, dismissing the overly bored children lurking the halls, feeling over exerted with their first day of pure pressure and work. Meeting the friends helped to get through the day, but recess was like redemption for those how didn't meet anyone yet...

...Basically, a time for losers like me to pick from the scrappy kids left to be friends with...

Those of that group who weren't nubs, dorks or possessed with some strange disease, were bullies. I guess that's how I was influenced into becoming me. I don't know, maybe it's because I knew this was how it would always be.

Me, the nubs, and the people who want to beat those nubs up.

As I sat alone on the bench plotting revenge on - Our grade one teacher- For giving my extra homework, I spotted some trouble arousing in my peripheral vision.

A group of older boys- Maybe third or fourth graders- Where picking on a brunette, cornering him against a tree. He clutched a satchel that looked as if it was overflowing with textbooks and other learning supplies. The phrases '_Nerd_', '_Dork_', '_Noob_' and '_Fredwiener_' were tossed around as they snatched away his book bag an played piggy in the middle with it. The unfortunate victim was desperately crying, tripping over himself in an attempt to retrieve his bag.

Of course, he failed. _Miserably_.

Many people watched the scene, people younger and older gapped and glared at the group, but non stood up to stop the cruel actions.

I mean, I didn't blame them, who would be such a loser to stand up to biggest bullies in the school, just to save some stupid kid? The _biggest_ loser, to describe in the least.

"_Hey_." A voice interrupted the terrorizing of the young boy- I could now see, he was one of the new kids in my class- The group turned to their disrupter. The school yard went quiet.

Who was being brave enough, to sacrifice their pitiful life? Who was _stupid_ enough to stand up and challenge them?

Everyone in the yard shifted, eyes staring at the person who stood broadly, clothes swaying in the wind and eyes alert- Almost intimidatingly, she pushed her brow down and pushed her clenched fists on her hips. She was a short girl, but lean- No fat on her at all. She had a weak, though semi-developed hour-glass figure that hung around her, resembling her curved face as she cursored her manipulating and cold shied eyes on the gang. They continued to stare with brute force- She looked tough enough to handle it, but when you're a head and a half shorter than the smallest guy, it's easier said than done.

"What do you want, punk?" That was when it hit me. The comment was directed to _me_.

What. The _hell_. What was I _doing_? Was I trying to get myself _killed_? I must be absolutely _nuts_! This was basically like attempting suicide! My mouth ran dry as my accusation was confirmed- A slit of metal flashed as one of the middle older kids twiddled a piece in his hand- They had a weapon! They were _armed_!

I knew many things that were plain not right, but this was beyond that. Heck, it was day one and I had already broken some of the strictest rules. But I knew for a fact that having a lethal weapon in your possession was a free trip to expulsion, and in some cases, worse. they could do anything- I needed to do something, I need to get myself out of there. Stat.

But before I knew it, he was pointing the weapon at the brown haired boy.

I gapped. How dare he? He couldn't just threaten a little kid like that! That is _illegal_! (I think.) I growled at him and took a step forward unknowingly, even though I knew deep inside I was fighting off of willpower, not common sense, so I let my body have it's way with it's actions. The audience that stood by watching exchanged nervous glances. This wasn't going to end well, we all knew it too.

Especially me. When your less than three feet, are being threatened, have the sexist disadvantage and you have no weapon to defend yourself when your opponent does, the odds are very much against you.

That was further proved when one of the boys lunged at me and punched me in the abdomen. Well _that_ hurt.

"That should teach little punk princesses like you to mind their own business."

"D...Don't call me that." The boy turned, surprised that I wasn't on the ground crying my head off.

"_What_ did you say?"

I cringed but managed to stand, one arm securely protecting my stomach. I repeated, bolder this time.

"_Don't call me that_!" It was the boys turn to take a step back in surprise. I took this short moment of lead and lunged forward, using the moment to my advantage.

Bad idea.

Really, _really_ bad idea.

The middle older boy snapped out his blade and lunged.

He lunged at the little brunette boy.

I could have sworn my motion switched in mid air, I flipped myself and snapped my leg forward, successfully- Though equally surprisingly- Knocking the dagger out of the bully's hand. He looked at me shocked, but I wasn't the only one with fast reflexes.

The boy that I had been speaking with lunged backwards and brought his elbow down to match mine.

That's when I heard a loud, piercing snap.

And a scream.

I expected the scream to be mine, of course, since my arm had just been presumably broken, but it wasn't, it was the brown haired boy I was sacrificing everything for.

He screamed for me. The armed boy leaped to grab his dagger and swung around, it in hand. The chocolate eyed boy tolerated non of that and slapped the boys hand, successfully breaking the weapon form the boys grip. He grabbed his satchel and rushed over to me, it was if he finally got the will to fight- After I had run out, of _course_.

The onlookers finally saw it as their oppurtunity to step in and actually _do_ something, so they called over a supervisor and got the boys taken away to the principal, I was carted away on a stretcher, the boy profusely demanding he come with me.

Instead of being taken to the hospital however, I was taken to the nurses office- Apparently it wasn't big enough to require 'special attention.'

It sure as hell felt like it did.

As it was patched up- I couldn't even look at it, I swore it had a bone sticking out- I exchanged glances with the little boy. Okay, so he wasn't little, given, he was even a bit taller than me. He had pale skin- Maybe that was just the anxious guilt that penetrated his ever nervous mud eyes. He looked away, shoulders drooping with fear, his auburn hair flying with him. He shifted and sweated in his polo shirt and jeans, you could see him feeling regret.

Hey, I did too.

I was told to wear a cast for a month or so, and to report to the doctors if anything went wrong. Don't get it wet, don't get it dirty, blah blah blah.

I wasn't really paying attention, I never really did.

I was more focussed on the anxious stare the boy was giving me. I'll be honest, it was creeping me out. We had never talked. _Ever_. But now we seemed close. I felt as if that fight had brought me closer to him than anything had ever brought me close to anyone. Not that I liked '_bonding with people_' anyway.

Next after the nurses office was Principal franklin's office, though I like to call him Ted. It was a nice name, and reminded me of soft and cuddly teddy bears. Sure, they weren't that fitting, and I wasn't too fond of vicious animals sleeping with you at night, but it was better than calling him Principal as if it meant something.

I guess, after all these years, it kinda stuck.

"Well, Samantha, so far on your first day, you have broken three of this schools strictest rules, the safety of our school's students, the block between older and younger student and who's dominant, and your arm..." He nodded towards my bright lime green cast. I was ready to protest on many levels, but was interrupted by a dismissive wave of his hand. I just mumbled, mostly to myself.

"I was just trying to defend myself..." Ted picked this up, however, and gave me a '_Yeah right'_ look.

"Are you sure you were protecting you...? Or... someone else?" I stiffened. _Gah_, I hated it when people could see through my coverups. We both looked over to the boy on the chair in the back, he was staring at the ceiling. When he finally looked back at us and noticed we were watching him, I could almost see him jump out of his skin. He literally had to hold himself to the chair to prevent himself from jumping up and hiding behind the chair in fear. I sighed.

He sure was skimpy.

Ted let us out of school early- Both of us.

For some reason, I was mad at this boy, he couldn't stand up for himself, he couldn't talk without being paranoid that he said something wrong, and he wouldn't let himself get involved with anything until someone- Specifically me- Got hurt. I had every right to be mad. I was in pain, I was righteously pissed at this young boy. He had made me get into a fight to save him. I guess I _was_ a little hard on him, I didn't talk to him- Though he didn't talk to me either, so it wasn't that awkward- But I deserved to be hard on him.

My arm _hurt_.

As we strolled down the street to a road that our houses split upon, he turned twitchingly to me and reached out his hand. He gingerly looked up at me with his chocolate eyes and whispered.

"Freddie..." I raised an eyebrow and deadpanned.

"What?" He shifted nervously and looked at me, than his feet, than back to me.

"My name, it's Freddie." I slowly nodded my head- Why would I care? I rolled my eyes.

"Eh, I'm Sam." He nodded and smiley genuinely. I noticed that even though we had made introductions, he was looking expectant.

I realized he was still holding his hand out for me to shake. I muttered an 'Oh' and shook his hand with my good hand. He held onto my hand, silently refusing to let go. I brushed it off and let him clutch it for comfort. It was fine, really. Nothing bad could come from it, right?

"T...Thanks... No one has ever stood up for me before, let alone do _that_." His high pitched voice squeaked, gesturing to my cast that was securely pressed to my chest.

I laughed bitterly, this day was a bad day. Freddie, full of simplicity, looked up at me and smiled.

"You remind me of a firetruck! You are respectful and loyal and kind!" I raised an eyebrow. I huffed, I could see he was getting to the fact that he considered me his bodyguard. Even though we were the same age, I was clearly superior when it came to maturity.

"Firetrucks have troubles too, they may help people with their problems, but they have to stop at red lights when enough is enough. Just like every other vehicle." Freddie's wide grin that reached ear to ear didn't falter and he buzzed, continuing his statement.

"But, Sam, firetrucks don't stop for red lights!"

We parted on semi-good terms, and turned out to be pretty good friends. But then again, that was stage one. Stage one of many, many stages of life, blood, purity, clarity, perseverance and love.

**Kishigo: Again! Don't get psyched! It was a road-y type of ending. Don't expect a quick update and a new chapter- I don't even know if I should continue it. Please consider what I said earlier, please. **_**Review**_**! You won't get anything until I get enough reviews to think of it worthy to be added to my busy and never-ending list of things to do/finish. I have a list of elite, and other lists- Hundreds and hundreds of story ideas- Yeah, I got loads. Don't worry, if I get enough support to continue it, it will simply be put on **_**Hiatus**_** for the time being. If you are reading this and it is Hiatus, don't fret, I'll get to it soon (Months... Two or three of em' at the most?) Don't over expect. :) Love ya fans! **_**Review review review!**_** If you can favorite or sub, you can **_**review**_** too! I spent my entire day on this! favorites and subs will not count. Period. So I hope you understand, I want criticism. What did you like? What didn't you? Does it float you boat? What can I do to make it be that way? **_**REVIEW**_**!**

**~Thanks, **

**~Kishigo, out.**


	2. iReally Am In Dire Need Of Luck

**Kishigo: Hey guys! Okay, so I have a tendency of writing at midnight, three in the morning, and in this case, five xD that's how most of my stories are written. As you can see, I decided to continue this story, and boy do I have big plans. I'm glad this story is liked by two people :] But, here's the thing. For the next chapter, I want one of the people who reviewed previously to review again on this chapter (along with others as well) ;) I'm getting tricky, but I'm also testing you guys' loyalty towards my story. I can't stand it when people review once, and never review again .-. I don't own iCarly, enjoy.**

"…Alright class, let's begin today's lesson. First, let's open our textbooks to page one hundred and forty four…"

What. A. _Drag!_ Mrs. Duckle had to be the most _boring_ teacher _ever_! I swear to god if I hear one more repetitive lesson about the important of the saxophone I'm going to scream! Again!

"…So, can anyone tell me what year the first saxophone was made?"

Oh my god…

"Samantha, how about you? Do you know the-"

"Sam."

"…Pardon?"

"My name, it's not Samantha. It's _Sam_." Mrs. Duckle looked at me flabbergasted, looking back and forth between her sheet and me, with an expression that clearly read '_but on the sheet it says…_' She was about to say something again when someone else spoke up.

"I believe the saxophone was made in 1840, miss," Freddie interrupted, I sighed in relief. For once it was good to be friends with the nub. The teacher sighed,

"Correct Freddie..."

The rest of class went by slowly, as usual, but uneventful as well—thank god. Unfortunately, we got homework, and lots of it. I wouldn't do it anyway, of course.

"And that's all for today's class! Don't forget to do your homework!"

As the bell signalled our release, I nearly raced out of the class to the courtyard. Lunch time. Putting my bag down, I smiled, snickering. Freddie was bounding—nearly tripping—towards me with a ripe bag of books and sheet-work. It was hilarious, really. As he threw his much larger bag beside mine, he said, gasping for air,

"Gah, I don't like homework," I threw my hands up in the air, crying sarcastically,

"Halleluiah! The nub has come to his senses!" I laughed, and I heard him chuckle as well. He grinned, placing his hands on his hips,

"Not that much, at least." We laughed. Of course, knowing my luck, which had run dry a long time ago, we had to be interrupted. By the worst people possible.

"Well look who we have here?" The bullies. I had learned their names in the sparse week of our last conflict. The one who broke my arm's name was Izaac, the one who grabbed Freddie's bag was Luther and the other one was Quin.

Freddie, much to my dismay, had stuck to his previous nature of considering me his body-guard, and hid behind my back. He was literally vibrating in fear. We were both at a disadvantage really, I was still condemned to another three weeks of clean, non-wet cast wearing torture. And Freddie, well...

...He was _Freddie_.

"What do _you_ want?" I spat, displeased by their presence. Why were they still here? I thought they were expelled!

"You little brats got us expelled for a whole week and now we're back to make you pay!"

..._Oh_.

One of them—I think Luther- pointed to Freddie who was literally clinging onto me, and snickered. I growled, "What?" they just stuck out their tongue and teased,

"Does Princess Puckett got a boyfriend?" I blinked. _What_? Me, Freddie, together _as a couple_?

Not in a million years! I deadpanned,

"Are those _your_ boyfriends?" I gestured with my eyebrows towards Izaac and Quin. He looked appalled and nearly through a fit,

"What? No!" I just shrugged,

"Well then, there's your answer." They scoffed, I took my turn and stuck my tongue out at them. Of course, Freddie, being the immature baby he was, just had to intervene.

"Well... I do kinda-" I slapped my hand across his mouth. I don't care about what he was about to just say, I just didn't want him to say it. Quin, hearing this, made a face and howled,

"Maybe this little love is one-sided! Maybe little Freddie just-"

"Shut _up_!" I yelled. Like usual, I yelled it before I thought. The group, yet again gave me the '_are you so stupid to make us do this again?_' look. I could see him thinking of a way to draw this out and make me more angry before striking. They all knew I had weaknesses, and they, unfortunately, knew how to use them.

"Look, Princess, you're actually pretty strong, and I'll give you that. Here's an offer: How 'bout you join us?" I gave them my most flabbergasted look that clearly read '_are you serious?_' "All you need to do is punch that kid, real' hard, just to make sure your not some social wimp." I glanced at Freddie, who was again gripping my shirt tightly, looking up at my with trusting but confused eyes. I could punch him, I would, too. If these guys weren't psychotic idiots.

"No way! Freddie..." I gulped, why did this sound like one of those child soaps or something? "Freddie is my friend." They laughed. Full on giggles. I stomped and growled,

"You know, I ought to say, if you resort to a girl to do your dirty work, you're no better than a hobo scavenging for food!" that shut them up.

I watched in my peripheral vision as our playground audience gaped at us. De ja vu man, de ja vu. I noticed one particular girl watching, wide-eyed and mouth open. Izaac nearly barked something again when the girl ran over and cried,

"Izaac! Stop it! That's not nice!" the team just looked at the girl before scowling. They mumbled to each other, as if discussing their next move. What was the girl _doing_? Wait, were they _listening_ to her? Why didn't they give _her_ the look? The girl with the brown hair growled. As small and skimpy as she seemed, that girl seemed to have vicious power—maybe not psychical power, but still. They group just glanced at each other before slowly turning and slithering into the shadows of the basketball court, I almost heard them yell behind them.

"We'll get you next time, Princess!" I grinded my teeth, but restrained myself form doing anything aggressive when seeing the girls face. She looked apologetic, like one of those people who repeatedly say sorry even when they don't do anything. Heck, where was this chick last week when I really needed some help? This girl looked pretty thin, and not very strong. She had looks, given, but I could tell just by looking at her eyes that I could beat her in an arm wrestling competition in a second, and she knew it.

She looked as if she was going to say something, but winced as she glanced at my cast (was it intimidating?). She just looked around her before scampering off towards the tree she was previously seated under. One other thing I noticed was Freddie fantasy eyeing the girl, his globes flashing. I shoved him to the ground, my palm pushing on his face so he couldn't dazzle at the girl any longer. Walking off, I remembered something, turned around and looked down at Freddie, who was squabbling on the ground, trying to pick up his mixed belongings. When he fixed his back pack onto his back, I picked him up by the handle of his back pack and carried him off in the direction of the back of the school. He flailed in mid air, definitely surprised at my action and unsure of what to do. He was so skimpy, skittish too. I sighed and half carried half dragged him towards the back of the brick building.

As soon as we were hidden by the school structure, I immediately grabbed the collar of Freddie's shirt

and pushed the little nub against the wall with such force the wind was blown out of both of us. I spat at him, my voice raised and rash, "What was _that_ about?" Freddie was visibly shaking, his voice delicate and screechy, he just whimpered apologetically,

"I-I'm sorry! I-I just... You know I'm not brave or strong!" I spat again,

"That doesn't mean you have to make things _worse_ for me!" he looked at me blankly, giving me a very confused and innocent stare. He deadpanned,

"What do you mean?" I mocked him and mimicked his voice,

"Well, I do kinda-" Freddie yelled at me,

"How do you know what I was going to say!"

"Gee, 'cause _that one_ sure isn't obvious." He crossed his arms and glared at me daringly,

"Prove it, finish that one up for me." I bit my lip. He got me; I couldn't just say it, it was... well, it was embarrassing! Not to mention awkward...I just released my grip and stuttered,

"I noticed you google-y eyeing that brunette chick, too," I saw his expression quickly warp and he blushed,

"W-What? No! _Y-You're_ the one who saved me..." I growled,

"Sounds like you need to convince yourself that first," I turned and mumbled, "besides, I hate to admit it, but I couldn't have done it without her..." I could see Freddie in my peripheral vision glance back at me, another confused stare thrown my way.

"So... what does that mean?" I didn't want to deal with this. I just chuckled and grinned,

"It means _payback_, nub." He started to cold-sweat, and just by the looks of it, I could see his face run pale. I had given him a taste of my fury the day after I got my cast. I had twisted his arm behind his back until he yelled mercy what had to be at least a hundred times. I noticed a hose out of the corner of my eye and grinned even more evilly. Freddie, petrified, was still frozen on the spot. I picked up the hose, turned the blue knob, and watched as water started spouting out of the end. I had unintentionally aimed it towards his crotch, making it look as if he peed himself. This was _very_ satisfactory.

"H-Hey! What was that!" he stuttered. I just smirked,

"That, my friend, was the ushe."

**Kishigo: So, how was that? :D Personally, I think it sucked ;P It lacked length and some parts were a little sketchy D: Anyways, please review! I'd like maybe 2 reviews, and at least one of them someone who reviewed last time! :) If I'm going to be really picky, then I could say on my profile (the place where all my writing schedule will be held) that I want 2 reviews by people who had never reviewed, AND one from someone who has reviewed. I don't think I'll be that evil, but you never know! Just review please! :D **

**~Kishigo, out.**


	3. Authors Note - Update Alert!

Hey guys!

So, remember when I was going to do weekly updates on that story? (Jily One-Shots)

Yeah, good times.

Well, I promise that come the New Year, I will be updating each and every one of my stories. Yep. That's right. I'm going to get up off my righteous ass and do something. Now, the new year may seem like a long time to do some writing, but I'm also entering the NaNoWriMo contest – if you don't know what that is, here's a basic outline: you (try to) write a 50,000 word novel from November 1st-30th, writing about 1,700 words a day. It's pretty fucking cool. I'm stoked, and I think any and everyone should at least give it a shot – it's all for fun, and rarely anyone ever completes it, but it really helps your experience with word count when writing fanfictions, or whatever other project you have going on.

And oh hey, does anyone like my new penname? XD

So, yes, also; I will be taking down some of my fanfictions. They're embarrassing, badly written, and my account has been discovered by some personal friends (heytharRhiannon) and I'd prefer if my younger writing days stayed shamefully in the depths of my computer.

tl;dr

Some fanfictions will be deleted off my account permanently, though I will be updating these stories listed come the New Year:

Jily One-Shots

iSaid Hello to You

Hey Granger

iNever Knew (Maybe…)

Who Are You (Big, big maybe…)

Alrighty, bye for now!

~Slytherfoot, out


	4. iTotally Won Show and Tell

Show and tell. Yes! My favourite school day. The one day of the year that I could bring the most disgusting item I could find under my bed, bring it to school, and not get in trouble for it! But, I'm guessing I should wait and save that opportunity until I find that rat that ran under there and didn't come out... Instead, I'm going to be creative...I'm going to make something out of...meat! Yes, meat! Better yet, I'm going to make it out of _bacon_! Oh man, am I brilliant or what? Hmm... Now what to make…

Looking around my room wasn't very inspirational; most of it was trash, or some unidentifiable object that I, well, didn't want to identify.

I heard some kind of mix between a barf, a scowl and a hiss from behind my dresser. "Frothy!" I smiled. Frothy was my cat. My hideous, vermin-ridden, scruffy, old, lovable cat. I have no clue how old he was, but he is still going strong. Frothy has vomit tinged hazel fur, with darkened patches and even some bald spots. His eyes are a mix, one was brown and the other is blue; they are always darting suspiciously back and forth. His claws are always unhinged, alert and ready to scratch you if he needed to (or just wanted to). I found him (well, with some help) in the gutter near the Seattle tower. Some hobo must have left him there or something. Well, we brought him home, washed him - not that it helped that much - and I named him Frothy, since every time we tried to brush him he would hiss and white foam would drip out of his mouth. I thought it was pretty cool.

Frothy tried to escape, as he usually does, but I snatched him up and cradled him. He doesn't let people know he likes to be held, but when I finally get him to stopped squirming, he'll purr softly when I pet him, but only if you listen really carefully.

Making a bacon Frothy would be too much work, and I'd eat most of the bacon before it'd be completed, so I settled on just taking Frothy to save me the trouble, and then I could just eat the bacon!

Ah, I'm so smart.

I shoved the bacon into my bag, throwing out my Science and English notebooks (They weren't really important anyways), and tossing out my Social Textbook (with my collage of gum wrappers on page 88) for good measures. Perfect. I grabbed my coat, and, putting it on, I snatched Frothy and stumbled out the door. Not that I was excited to go to school, no, I just couldn't wait to see the look on Mrs Briggs face when he lashed out at her (like I hoped he would) and Freddie... Oh, yes, today was going to be a great day.

By the time I got to school, class had already started, and I, of course, didn't care. English wasn't until second period, and that was the class Show and Tell was scheduled for. I grabbed my pack of bacon out of my packsack, threw my bag into my locker (where god knows what resides) and dashed down the corridor. Frothy was howling under my arm, since I hadn't let him go since we got to school.

You should have seen their faces.

Most of their show pieces were mixed together at the back of the class. I could spot out some homemade airplanes, boats, and kitsch cottages sloppily glued together with pounds of glue, some already imploding into mounds of popsicles sticks and paint. I also saw a few stuffed animals, and some dolls and with handmade clothes (how lame!) and real make up. They looked almost as horrifying as the teachers face when she noticed I had a squirming, splotched, screeching cat under my arms. Not that it was hard to notice; half the class was staring.

I smiled and waved.

Plopping down in a seat near the back of the class, I immediately opened my bacon and started munching; it was as good of time as any. Frothy leapt out of my arms and promptly sat on the desk, licking... something off of him. I smiled at who I was sitting beside. 'Hey Freddie!' Nonplussed, he stared at Frothy and muttered an unsteady, "Hey."

'Why are you sitting back here? Usually you'd be the one right up at the front,' I said, rolling my eyes and muttering an inaudible "teachers pet" under my breath. His loud self came back and he tried to redeem this "bad act" of his.

'Well, you know, I'd be up there right now if it wasn't for my show and tell piece,' he nodded at his words, and before I could ask what could possibly need supervision at the back of the class, he pointed to a large, clunky, metal object in the closest corner of the class. It was a hunk of wires, steady beams, constructed pipes and glass.

In nerd word, a super computer.

'That has to be the biggest dork machine I've seen you produce, Benson,' I snickered.

'Why thank you, crazy cat lady'" he stuck his tongue out at me. I snapped back at him,

'Excuse me, but I'm not crazy, and I have one, perfectly healthy, beautiful cat,' my "wonder-cat" took this opportunity to cough up a hairball, square in the middle of the desk. Acting nonchalant, I added quickly, 'And his name is Frothy.'

Freddie started giggling, so I kicked the desk in my attempt to kick him, but continued a little loudly then I would have preferred, 'Look, idiot, don't insult my cat. That hunk of junk is the only friend you'll have for the rest of your life if you keep your stupid act up, so I suggest you keep your big fat ugly mouth shut-'

'Samantha!' I flinched. Stupid Mrs Briggs.

'Thanks a lot, Fredfart,' I mumbled dangerously. Briggs growled,

'TO THE OFFICE!'

'But I'll miss show and tell!' I cried, holding Frothy up as if to exaggerate my point.

'I don't care! March!'

I glared at her and Freddie murderously before storming out, slamming the door as hard as I could behind me. At least I got the satisfaction of seeing them all jump out of their seats. Even Briggs bounced a bit.

So there I was, trotting down the corridor, Frothy playing dead to avoid any more disruptions to his day. He was that sort of cat that hated being man-handled. I really didn't care.

I took my time making my way down to the principles office. Why rush? It was obviously nothing to look forward to. Honestly, I would have ditched any other day, but hey, show and tell!

'Mrs Puckett?' a voice boomed. It was just then when everything came rushing back. I was going to the _principal's office_. It wasn't that I was afraid of a bad school record - that was one of my goals – but what if I got kicked out? What if I had already crossed the line? I hated being at home… Oh, please… 'Mrs Puckett, please come with me.'

A surprisingly comforting hand let itself pat my shoulder, leading me down the stairs and into the office. The stares I received were none I saw, though I know they were there. I couldn't dare look up into the teacher's eyes. What if he was mean? What would that mean for me? Was I actually going to be kicked out? Was this already the end?

When we entered his office, the only thing I could notice was how clean his carpets were. I was about to say something about it, until I remembered just why I was there. My focus remained on the floor.

'Mrs Puckett, will you explain exactly why you were found in the halls? With that…cat?' he questioned Frothy being feline more than why he was there, though since I was avoiding all eye contact and my shoes were found to be fascinating, I couldn't see the face that accompanied the puzzlement.

'…I got in trouble…' I mumbled, eyes wide, though still focusing on a miniscule piece of mud on my shoes, 'and this is Frothy, my cat… I brought him for show and tell…' I was ready to accept being thrown out, suspended, _expelled_. I was prepared for anything. …Except for what happened next.

'Well, how about I let you off with a warning? I remember I did the same thing with my pet ferret. It was the worst part of my childhood,' he reminisced. Still confused on both why he was sharing this and why this was significant. Out of sheer stupidity, I asked,

'So what happened?'

'Well… there was this girl in my class… she had a bull dog named Cupcake… poor, poor Buster…' I managed the bravery, though encouraged by the pure curiosity of the moment, to look up into his face. I was, to say the least, surprised. He was dark-skinned, middle-aged and kind-looking. The exact opposite of what I was expecting. How stupid of me! I was expecting some Mr Howard kind of guy, and here I am, sitting in front of some bloke with watery, small eyes and the ghost of nostalgia hugging his wrinkles. Most of them looked like laugh-induced wrinkles, too. 'Well anyway, I've held you for long enough,' he looked at his wrist… though he didn't have a watch… 'I think it'd be about time to let you got back to class. Enjoy it.' He smiled, opening the door. I looked back at his desk, which was covered in family photos, files and gifts.

'Thank you… Mr Franklin,' I smiled. He just grinned back at me,

'Anytime, Sam.'

'Very good, Susan! Let's see whose next… Oh.' Mrs Briggs frowned. 'Sam.' She threw the list down onto the desk in disappointment. I gave her a moody glare before strutting up to the front of the class. I had no stage fright, since I grew up in front of a stage – tap-dancing. Don't ask. Anyway, things were going along great with my presentation until –

'Oh, no!' Freddie cried, as his… contraption… sparked and combusted into instantaneous flames. I raised an eyebrow and snickered, oblivious to everyone else's panic. Frothy hissed at the fire, and everyone started the evacuation program.

Yawning, I grabbed Frothy, and casually made my way towards the door, where this girl – I think her name was… Wendy? – was crying. Typical.

'Thanks a lot, Fredbag!' I yelled, yanking Freddie by his dorky collar, with his dorky face, and dorky scared expression. _The dork_! 'Now I can't do show and tell, 'cause you almost burnt the school down, which would have been perfectly okay,_ if it wasn't show and tell day!_' I scowled, releasing him. Freddie took a deep breath, silently giving thanks for his life – and he should be! He turned to me, cowering under my glare.

'I-I-I'm sorry, Sam! It's not my fault-!' I held a hand up and he stopped immediately, intently focused on my hand and where I could potentially – and painfully – put it.

'It's not your fault?' I started, my voice dangerously even. Freddie's eyes bulged and he tried to reword his sentence, fruitlessly. I silenced him again. 'It's. Not. Your. Fault? I'll show you what's not your fault-' I started stridently, stepping towards him – however, some girl – that Carly one! – flashed behind him. I looked over Freddie's shoulder and saw her staring intently, stricken by my intensity. I sighed, though it came out in a growl.

'Look. I'm giving you this one off. But if you pull anything like this off again…' I left the threat in the air, pointing my finger at him with both eyebrows raised. Freddie gulped audibly.

'Got it. Definitely got it. Yep. Got it with extra 'got it' on top. No one's got it more than me.'

I rolled my eyes.

After making the slow-process home, I opened the door, all spy-like, finger-guns and all. However, the quiet act not-with-standing, what with Frothy hissing perceptibly at the extremely creaky door.

'SAM!'

Thanks a lot, Froth.

'_SAM PUCKETT!_' I heard a voice howl from the kitchen, slurred with the bitter tone only alcohol could induce.

'Yes, dear mother of mine?' I replied in an artificially sugary sweet voice. The aforementioned figure waddled out of the kitchen pointing her glass, not at me, but at Frothy.

'Don't sass me, young laaaady!' she formed the word, too drunk out of her mind to make sense of a string of words. I bit the inside of my cheek, placed Frothy down, adjusted my packsack and backed out of the door once more. There was no way I was staying in that house.

I heard her continue howling at Frothy, still mistaking the poor feline for me. Was this considered animal cruelty?

'Oh, and do your homework! ABCDEFG…'

…Probably…

'…HIJKLMNOPQRS…'

…Definitely.

I took a deep breath. This was going to take all of what dignity I have, and throw it in the trash. Just do it. You don't want to go back to that tent. You can do this.

_Knock Knockity Knock Knock, Knock Knock._

I pounded the door in a rhythm I saw on television. I smiled at myself – I thought it was pretty cool. Of course, I'm just psyching myself out, trying not to make this so hard.

However, when I saw who opened the door, I realized that this was going to be very hard.

Very, very, _very_ hard.

'Oh. Hello, you must be one of Freddie's friends.' Mrs. Benson said strictly, giving me an artificial and prim smile, though it came out as more of a grimace. I just smiled, as innocently and nicely as possible without matching her scowl.

'Yep. That's me. Just a friend-' I said, looking over her shoulder discreetly, looking for a sign of Freddie to save me from this torture.

'Or are you a _girlfriend_?' she asked accusingly, pointing a finger dangerously, 'Aha! I knew Freddie-boo-bear was keeping something from me! I _knew_ it! Now, you stay away from my son, you rotten-'

'_MOM_!'

I never thought I'd be saying this, but thank god – it's Freddie.

'Freddie! You've been lying to me! How many girlfriends do you have?'

'_Excuse_ me,' I interrupted, though it came out uncaringly rude. 'I happen to be his friend. That's it. _Friend_. I'm a girl, and a friend, not a _girlfriend_. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to hang out with my _friend_.' I finished, gritting my teeth. Mrs Benson pursed her lips, handing me a sanitizing spray, as well as a cloth, a gel, a duster and toothpaste.

'Clean up before you come inside, Samantha-'

'It's _Sam!_'

'Alright, _Samantha_, whatever you say.' She turned heel and hurried down the hall, bouncing haughtily.

'Err… sorry about her…' Freddie scratched the back of his head. I raised an eyebrow, placing all the equipment in his arms before walking in, trailing mud and god-knows what else all over the pristine carpet. I heard an audible thump, and I didn't have to look to know he had fallen over under the weight of all the cleaning supplies.

I made my way to what had to be Freddie's room – the Galaxy Wars name tag on the door that said 'Freddie,' with a heart on the 'i' made it obvious enough.

'Once a Freddie, always a Freddie,' I said, chuckling to myself, though when I pushed the door open, I think I spoke too soon.

Every. Single. _Inch_ of his room was covered in some 'Pear' poster, or 'Galaxy Wars' poster.

'Oh – _no_, Sam!' Freddie burst into the room, horrified of what I would guess of what had just been revealed to me. The nub lair.

'What is it?' I asked innocently.

He gripped his head. 'The mother load of fire starters for insults. The beginning of the end. The apocalypse!' Freddie supplied, throwing his hands up in despair.

'Well, excuse me, but when the Zombie Apocalypse comes, I've got a fully-fledged plan! So have fun in your nerd-cave while I'm running the world on the front line of zombies!'

'Sam, zombies don't exist.'

'Your future girlfriend doesn't exist.'

'That,' Freddie pointed at me, 'was not very nice!'

'Oh darn, you know I always try,' I said, my voice dripping in sarcasm.

'Are you going to start coming to my house to pick on me? This is my salvation!' he huffed, gesturing at the desk, which was littered with more computers than paper. I opened my mouth to reply, but closed it almost instantly. What was I to say?

Freddie became instantly suspicious. 'Hold on. Why are you here, anyways?'

I tried to change the subject. 'So, did you get the report done on Aunt Chinut Romania?' I asked quickly. Freddie raised an eyebrow.

'Ancient Rome?' he supplied the correction. I nodded briskly.

'Something like that,' I muttered.

'Well, yes, of course, since that was due _two weeks ago_,' Freddie emphasized, raising an eyebrow.

'Yeah, trick question.' I turned towards a shelf, which was stacked with _dolls_…

'Before you say they're dolls, they're figurines,' he said quickly, 'there's a difference.'

I threw some mini spaceship across the room, watching him yelp like a girl, then grapple to get it. I snickered lightly, 'Whatever you say, Frednub.'

I stayed at Freddie's that night. Besides junior juvie, this was my first sleepover. On the fire escape route. It was kind of fun. Thankfully, I think Freddie caught onto the fact that I really didn't want to reveal my abrasive mother, and he dropped it. We talked for a bit, and that Carly girl came up again. Freddie so obviously liked her. Maybe I should talk to her some time…

**Hey thar! So, I REALLY SERIOUSLY APOLOGIZE FOR THIS BEING SO LATE D: I PROMISE THAT I'LL UPDATE SOONER? – Well, no, I won't, because I probably won't keep that promise. Err. I'm kind of getting ideas as I go, though really guys I dunno if I can guarantee regular updates... like, ever... However, as you can see, I'm bringing Carly in soon. By the way, I'm not doing day by day. There's probably going to be 5-6 chapters per school semester, about 3-4 every summer, but this is until the episodes start. I'm going to do bits of the episodes, perspective shots, behind the scenes and the bits in between. XD It makes sense when it gets going – I know it seems sketchy. Once more, I'm sorry this is so late! I hope the length makes up for it! (Yeah okay I know it doesn't, but hey it's still the New Year so my promise is still sort of fulfilled.) On a final note, I need feedback – is this sort of thing good? Are they all in character? Etc? PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


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