


To be Something More

by hartful13



Category: iCarly
Genre: Adventure, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2013-12-14 21:34:11
Rating: T
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,176
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5849119/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/456247/hartful13
Summary: A bet that would start a ride Freddie Benson nor the University of Washington will never forget, nor will Samantha Puckett if he loses this bet... Seddie/Cibby





	1. Chapter 1

Disclamier: I don't own iCarly or the NCAA or its teams and Universities so please don't sue me...

iWant to be Something More

Chapter one: The Bet

_"If you had to write an obituary for yourself, what would be in it?"_

Before that, Freddie Benson was ok with being the tech producer of the biggest Web-show around. He was ok with going to the University of Washington for Communications. However, when he received that assignment at the end of his senior year of high school it got him thinking.

What would be in his Obituary? How would he be remembered, really? Who would remember him?

Freddie Benson went through high school as the A/V guy and if nothing else he was a techie. Not even a 'tech producer', just a techie… or a nerd… or any of the other things that Samantha Puckett would call him. He would try to ask his other friends about how they'd remember him, but none of their answers piqued Freddie's interests…

_First he tried to get Germy Jeremy's opinion, "Try… AACHOO! Biochemistry… Achoo! and help find the… Achoo! cure, to... Achoo! allergies..." Germy Jeremy sneezed out his answer. Freddie slowly backed away as Jeremy went into a sneezing fit. _

_He decided he'd go find Shane, and see what he thought. "What about what you're doing now? Be a producer… of like a news network or something. You know you'd be great at it." Shane replied while tinkering with his digital camera. Freddie thought to ask him what he was doing, but decided that it could wait._

_He, then,. decided to swallow his pride and ask Jake Crandall, "How about helping me with my music career? It could get you big bucks being a producer in the music industry. Especially for me, since I'm about to hit it big, and all" Freddie struggled to contain a scoff. Music career? Jake still had all of the singing ability of a falling brick._

_Unable to locate Carly at the school and running low on options he went to Spencer, "Bungee Jumping! How about bungee jumping? It's all about taking risks and... wait. Do you smell something burning?" Spencer turned around to see his coffee table engulfed In flames. All Freddie could do was watch in a stunned disappointment. he resolved to wait at Carly's place until she came home. _

_Carly walked through the door and greeted Freddie. Instead of barraging Carly with questions about his future he waited until she was settled in. _

_Once she was settled in Freddie asked her what she thought he could be, "Freddie, you should do what you love, and make it something that you are comfortable with… Something that shows everyone the real you. Something like... what you're doing now." Carly finished with a half hearted smile. She knew It wasn't the answer he wanted but before she could amend her statement she noticed the coffee table. "What happened to the coffee table?" Freddie shot here a 'duh' look and watched as she exasperatedly turned to face her brother's room, "Spencerrr!"_

The advice that he got was acceptable, he supposed, but it wasn't what Freddie wanted to hear. Every answer he got just pointed him back to what he already was. What he didn't want to be anymore… a techie, and a nerd. That really was what everybody thought of when they thought of him. He was getting nowhere.

Then He decided to talk to his best guy friend, Gibby. Gibby was getting a scholarship to play basketball for the University of Washington Huskies. He had beefed up during high school and had turned into a powerful force on the court. he had also developed a pretty mean jump shot. He lead the district in scoring during his senior year, however, that isn't what impressed the Washington Head Coach Lorenzo Romar. What impressed the coach was his ability to grab defensive rebounds. Along with leading the district In scoring, Gibby also led the state in rebounds.

Freddie spoke to Gibby a few days before graduation. They were shooting around on the courts right outside of the Bushwell Apartment Complex. He was hoping that he could get some good advice from Gibby...

Gibby thought that he could give Freddie something better...

_"Look Benson," Gibby said while trying to shoot a three point shot that hit the rim and bounced out of the hoop. "I am going to be starting training camp in July." Freddie grabbed the ball and passed it to Gibby. Gibby tossed Freddie the ball, "You wanna take a shot?" Freddie shot him a glare and threw the ball back to Gibby. _

_Gibby caught the ball and shrugged. He took another shot, and then continued talking, "Anyways, before training Camp…" The shot went in. "…there's this guy, some hot shot recruit from New York who actually decided to come to Washington, he's staging some sort of 'pre training camp' for us freshman to get used to our teammates and to get some early practice in." Freddie passed to Gibby who, in turn, passed the ball to Freddie once more, "C'mon man, take a shot." _

_Freddie released a sigh and walked over to where Gibby was standing. Gibby continued, "They said we can bring a friend to join us and I want to bring you," Freddie set his feet, jumped, and released the ball, "To see if you wanna go my route, you know?" They watched as the ball sailed through the hoop. Gibby chuckled and retrieved the ball. _

_While passing the ball to Freddie he said, "Either way man, it's totally your call." Freddie set his feet, jumped, and shot once again, sinking another shot, "But it definitely couldn't hurt."_

Freddie told Gibby that he'd think about it. Much to his surprise, he found himself actually taking some serious time to see if it was something that he could do. A basketball player? Is that what he wanted to be? It would certainly take up most of his college life other than studying. Is that the future for him? Could it give him what he wanted?

He was still thinking of these things at the Graduation Party, which was being held at the Groovy Smoothie.

Samantha Puckett waved her hands in front of Freddie's face, "Freddork, you're in nerd mode, get out of it!" Freddie came out of his trance and looked around. They were the only ones left. The place was empty, aside from T-Bo cleaning up. Carly was nowhere to be seen.

"Sam," Freddie would say. "Where is Carly?"

"Carlotta and Gibson walked each other home. I swear they're a couple." Sam took a sip of her smoothie, "They need to admit it to themselves..." Carly and Gibby have become closer in the past 2 years since Gibby and Tasha had broken up.

Even though they've each admitted to their respective friends they like each other, neither one of them were willing to ask the other out. They had so many excuses 'I am waiting for the other to ask first.' or 'I just got out of a long relationship.'

It didn't help their cause that they were dancing 'like a couple' during the graduation party.

Sam was already convinced that they would get together saying; 'it's a matter of time.' but when would it happen?

"Oh." Freddie would have gone back to thinking but Sam stopped him there.

"Freddork, what in ham hock is wrong with ya?"

"Nothing." he lied. He wanted her opinion. But he was unsure of how to get it without having her ridicule him. He knew her, and he knew that she would seize his insecurity and hold it over his head. The last thing he wanted to do was give her more ammunition.

He decided to ease into it. "Hey Sam," Freddie would say finally, "What are you doing this summer?"

"Why would you want to know, nub?"

"I'm just asking..."

"Well," Sam leans forward onto the table. "I am going to get settled in at U-Dub, spend some time with Carly, and then I'm off to Volleyball camp for the rest of the summer."

"I Thought you were gonna try-out for the basketball team. I'm sure you could make the team as a walk on…" Freddie would have continued, but a sudden hand went across his face. "What the… What was that for?" Said a flabbergasted Freddie, holding his jaw.

"I've retired from all of that remember?"

Freddie rubbed his jaw, in an attempt to alleviate the sting. "Whatever you say." Freddie knew the reason for Sam's 'retirement'. Sam was, way, too good of a Shooting Guard to give up that easily.

A few months ago, at the McDonald's All-American game, a verbal spat with, 6'8 behemoth, Center Evelyn Carter, turned into one of the most shocking one sided fights that many had ever witnessed. Sam squared up, and sent a fist across Carter's jaw; knocking her straight out. That video is still top 5, all-time, on Youtube. Even though the internet fame was welcome, ever since that game, no school will go near her. They seemed to be way too afraid to deal with someone like that.

So, for anger management purposes, she took up Volleyball. She led Ridgeway to a state title and received her scholarship to play for Washington by this fall.

"So, Freddork, what are you doing this summer?" Sam said to change the subject "Going to your 'Nerd Camp for Adults'?"

"It's Technology Camp!" Freddie would, sharply, retort. After a breath he calmed down, "But I'm not going this summer. I'm thinking of taking up Gibby on his offer of going to New York with him."

"For what?" Sam laid back again slurping her Citrus Berry Blast.

Freddie sighed, and braced himself for her reaction, "Basketball."

Sam suddenly burst into two minutes of uncontrollable laughter, sprinkling Freddie's face in the smoothie that had previously been in her mouth.

"Sam!" Freddie screamed while he wiped his face off with the nearest napkin.

Once her laughter had subsided, she spoke, "You think you're athletic? You're more on the pathetic side, Benson," Sam would say after calming down from her laughing fit.

Freddie didn't think it was quite as funny as she did, and said the words that would change his life forever...

"Wanna bet on it?" Freddie asked suddenly.

Sam looked up and stared at Freddie's face. He couldn't be serious. Fredward Benson, the biggest dork in the universe, thinks that he can be an athlete? It'd take a miracle for that to happen. Then again, humiliating him was always fun and this might be the most fun yet.

"Yes. Why don't we? Here is the deal. You have four years to prove yourself to be the 'athlete' you THINK you are. You have to start two games in one season for any athletic team." Freddie was smirking till she said "And Fencing doesn't count nub." She smirked in turn while watching his own fall. She loved it when she can wipe that smirk right off Freddie's face.

"But If I win, Sam, you will have to act like a girl on the week of our graduation. And I don't mean just straightening your hair and wear a little lip gloss. No. I mean, we're going back to the Victorian Era, lady. I want to see pure proper out of you for this." Freddie watched as her smirk failed and eye began to twitch. Freddie loved it when he could tick Sam off.

After Sam recovered from her moment she She offers up her end of the bargain, "Oh-ho, and if I win, you will have dress like the king of dorks. Suspenders, thick red glasses, a bow-tie… guess who that is?" Freddie's sense of smug satisfaction was quickly destroyed. Sam had turned the tables on Freddie. So quick… so sudden… she really was a ninja. On top of that she wasn't done, "Also, as Icing on the cake; you'll be smelling like a skunk going up to get your diploma! How would you like Pepe Le-pew cologne?" Sam's grin made the Cheshire Cat's grin look like a good natured smile.

Freddie couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was she out of her mind? Would she think that Fredward Benson would take a bet so insane… take a risk that was so crazy, that if he failed he would never see the light of day after graduation aside from going to work and coming home? Was this the way she would want this to go down? He found her lack of faith disturbing. Samantha Puckett really thought that Fredward Benson wouldn't go through with this. she really though that he would run and cower.

He'd show her.

"You're on!" This girl had another thing coming. As they pinky swore on it, and sat back to finish their smoothies; both would think: _easiest bet ever won_.

After dropping off Sam at Carly's, he called Gibby right off the bat and put his plan of beating Sam once and for all, in motion. Who knows? Maybe, in the end, it will make him a better person… make them both better people.

"Gibby, I'm gonna take you up on that offer." He would tell Gibby into his Pear phone. "When are we leaving?"

Unbeknownst to him, he is about to get involved in one of the craziest four years of his life.

Well that is the start of my new story, iWant to be Something more. It's a plot bunny that i have been thinking of for a long time but i think this will be a good read so please tell me what you think. Your reviews are important... and don't forget the other story I am doing with Tech-Man, iChoose by HarTech inc. So my second chapter will come up soon and please review, please?

Thanks for the support if you do.

Hartful13


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"So, what do you know about this Humphries guy?" asked Freddie, Still staring out into the New York skyline.

It was, now, two weeks after graduation and they were about to land at La Guardia Airport. He didn't know anything about his potential teammate.

Not even Gibby knew that much about Jerome Humphries, aside from the obvious. "All I know is that he may be the highest ranked player to ever come to Washington. He is a 3-time Sporterade New York State player of the year. He is the National Player of the year in Basketball this year. He is tops in just about every recruiting board in the nation. They call him the Next coming of Magic Johnson, only, more athletic." Freddie, not knowing much about Magic Johnson, decided that he'd look him up later on.

"The only thing that's holding him back is that he has leadership issues. He played for Franklin Delano Roosevelt High School in Brooklyn. The thing is, they never won a state championship, heck, they've never, even, gotten past the state semi-finals. And on two occasions, he was the team captain. Still, he was offered scholarships to many great schools all across the nation: From Syracuse to Kentucky, even Duke… _The Duke University_, gave him a chance to start from off the bat." Freddie mentally noted that he'd have to look up Duke University as well. He knew of the school, of course, but was unfamiliar with their athletics.

"If he was so highly regarded, why did he come to the University of Washington?" Freddie looked over to Gibby.

Gibby just shrugged "That question will hopefully be answered today."

Freddie sighed and turned back to look out of the airplane window. His excitement and curiosity is giving him "moths" in his stomach, butterflies sound way to girly for the feeling he was feeling right now. This was what he has been waiting for. No matter what he was getting into by joining Gibby in this odd venture, he was still excited.

Then they heard the Stuart's voice in the intercom, "Please fasten your seat belt, we are about to begin our descent." They were landing. Many of his question would be answered. This is the day that he came down to meet the man that was about to change everything.

While inside the airport, a sullen Jerome Humphries had many thoughts on his mind. Throughout all of his years in High School, and with all of his individual accomplishments, there was one thing kept slipping away from him… a New York State Championship.

In New York City, basketball players go through the same regiment as a Gladiator… in a sense. The streets were his training facilities. He's go in and get 'roughed' up in pick-up games on some of the city's best courts.

Madison Square Garden, in Manhattan, was the Coliseum. There's a battle in that stadium every year for the State Championships. They say that it's the best show, next to the Big East Tournament, as the Knicks and Rangers are not what they used to be. If you wanted a good show, this is where you went.

It is considered quite a feat to get there more than once. Jerome had reached the stage once before. He led them all the way to the semi finals. He failed then. Playing in the Semi-Finals once again… he couldn't let it slip away from him again. Not when he had such a rare opportunity. That was the time when he could show them: the scouts and his critics, just how great a leader he could be.

Ever since the last state Semi final round, which was over two months ago, his thoughts would always go back to that infamous night in Madison Square Garden. He would always remember it as one of the biggest disappointments in his career.

_March 1st 2010 New York State Athletic Association Division 1 Semi-Finals_

_H.S. 119 Franklin Delano Roosevelt High School (Brooklyn, NY)_

_vs._

_H.S. 123 Booker T. Washington High School (Bronx, NY)_

_Madison Square Garden, Manhattan, New York._

_In New York City__,__ basketball players go through the same regiment as a Gladiator… in a sense. The streets were his training facilities__.__ He's go in and get 'roughed' up in pick-up games on some of the city's best courts. _

_Madison Square Garden in Manhattan was the Coliseum__.__ There's a battle in that stadium every year for the State Championships. They say that its the best show__,__ next to the Big East Tournament__,__ as the Knicks and Rangers are not what they used to be. If you wanted a good show, this is where you went._

_It is considered quite a feat to be here more than once. Jerome had reached the stage once before. He led them all the way to the semi finals. He failed then. and now… playing here in the Semi-Finals once again… he couldn't let it slip away from him again__.__ Not when he had such a rare opportunity. This was that time when he could implement his "leadership". _

_FDR High is down 3 against a furious__,__ Booker T. Washington__,__ squad; which was led by his main rival: Jake Morgan. He was shooting threes from NBA Range and stifling the offense that the FDR Tigers had become known for. Booker T. Washington was forcing FDR to play to their tempo by negating the speed of the FDR offense. _

_There's 30.8 seconds left and FDR was forced to foul Morgan, putting him on the line for 2 free throws. In a stroke of luck that could've been mistaken for destiny, he missed both and FDR called a time out as soon as they got the rebound._

_Jerome stood in the middle of the huddle, looking at his players. They were staring back at him, looking on, as he tried to keep their spirits up, "Look__,__ he missed both free throws and we have a damn chance to get things done! At this point we must go for it right here. if we can get this thing to overtime we could win this game and get to the finals damn it,"_

_As the team captain__,__ he had a responsibility to keep his players urgent at moments like these. But as he looks on__,__ he could see that his words were just going in one ear and out the other. The team looked as if they were dead on their feet. You could see it in their heavy breathing, and the creases on their eyes. Their hands were either; on their hips__,__ or even worse, on their knees. They weren't ready for a team like this. They weren't fit enough for games like this, and the only person he could blame was himself. He wasn't anywhere near as tired as the others but that was because of his own training regimen._

_He knew he should have been more involved with his players, especially since he was the point guard, A position in which you are the general. The point guard starts plays and gets the ball to the open man.  
_

_But he had to remain focused on this game. "I know you guys are tired. It's been a struggle but we are almost there__.__ We can tie this damn thing and take it to overtime." He heard groans all over the place as he stared wide eyed at his teammates the shock of them not wanting this as much as he did._

_"GUYS! Do you want this thing or what! I know I do!"_

_"I feel like throwing up," said one player._

_"Me too,"_

_That started a chain of his whole team saying they had reached their limits. It was stunning for him because he felt like he could reach overtime, but his guys couldn't even get past the final 30 seconds__._

_At this point, Head Coach Eddie Rodriguez had to step in. "HEY GUYS!" he yelled__.__ The team stopped their chatter. "We need to get it together! We have thirty seconds to make something out of nothing here! We may need to drag it out just a little longer but we can win this game!" So he puts out one of their original plays they do in practice. It was easy for Jerome; not so much for the rest of his team._

_So they walked back out to the court. Everyone's legs for FDR were just about to give out__,__ other than Jerome's. When he looked over to the opposition's bench he noticed that they looked like they could go five or six overtimes. At that very moment__,__ he knew._

_He was a great talent, but such a horrible leader… they were all right. _

_The papers, the scouts, his coaches… they were all right._

_They inbounded the ball to Jerome. He looked at what was in front of him. _

_Morgan was following his every step. He looked like a spider about that was about to eat his prey alive. _

_He looked around see that his team was two steps slower than their Bronx counterparts. he noticed that they were easily getting disrupted by the screens Booker T. had set up for them. They would try to stand up straight__,__ but they weren't in position to take advantage of the any of the one-on-one matchups. This was causing trouble for Jerome because FDR's main strength was finding and capitalizing on the mismatches that he created. However, since Morgan was able to play Jerome one-on-one, there was no way to draw a double team and get one of his other players open. He called for a screen and the small forward came and stood to the left of Morgan. However, the small forward was too tired to set an effective screen and it was easily avoided by Morgan. They were tired. All of them were tired way past fatigued and on to the point of exhaustion. Jerome came to a startling realization… The play was dead before he crossed half court. He had to think fast._

_He went to the right side of the court and gave it to his shooting guard at the top of the key. The shooting guard tried to cross the defender in front of him to get to the basket but the defender was following him step for step. So he passed the ball back to Jerome who had taken his place at the top of the key__._

_Jerome looked up at the clock on the backboard that was in front of him and watched as it continued ticking down to the end of his career in high school. All of the work he put in on the many big time courts around this very city could go down the drain. He looked from the clock over to Morgan, who was wearing his trademark smirk on his: sweaty, tired__,__ yet proud face. He had been bested once again, and Morgan knew it. _

_Jerome looked around to see if his shooters were open but they were closely guarded around the edge of the 3-point line._

_Jerome looked up at the clock and saw that there was 5 seconds to go__.__ He had no choice but to launch one up to the basket and hope for the best. So he took his stance and was about to lift the ball up to take his shot but he was surprised to find that he was pulling up air__._

_Jerome, baffled, looked behind him and saw Jake Morgan with the ball. He running down to his half of the court and Jerome gave chase._

_But it was too late, as Morgan laid it in and time expired._

_FDR was beaten once again__._

_Jerome just stood in middle of the court looking at his team who's, usually, bright red jerseys were a shade darker because of the sweat. Their legs looked like a Jenga tower that was about to fall__.__ Some of their heads were down and others were glaring daggers directly at Jerome._

_He just hung his head down and that same feeling that he had the previous year was back and this time the sting of this defeat lingered. He was a senior captain and point guard. He was touted to have the ability of Steve Nash, but condemned to be as clutch as bargain brand trash bag. He felt that sinking feeling on the inside and outside. That's when he knew that he didn't lose that game in the final five seconds. _

_Instead he had lost this one before they tipped off to start the game._

Present Day.

Jerome would think about that game and that lingering, sinking feeling that never left. he has been told that being unable to let go of big failures is in his blood. He was also told that these failure were to be used so that he could recognize that he had a long way to go until he reached greatness. It was what his cousin and mentor Sean Jackson had always told him.

Sean's a legend already at 20, leading his Newcastle United soccer team to their first Domestic Titles ever by winning the English Premier League and F.A. Cup Tournament in the same season in their first season in England's Top League.

That last semi-finals game basically destroyed any desire that Jerome had, to play in the Big East Conference. The Big East Conference Tournament would be there in that same place, and he can't take that. He has to go far away and go to a place where he can get another chance to be a leader. The University of Washington gives him that very chance.

His last chance.

He looks up to see his players come down the airport hallway...

The players are feeling a sense of excitement as they get off of the plane. They feel as if they're ready for almost anything. Jerome stood up and stared at his freshman, the people that he would lead.

He sees tall kids, short kids, stocky kids, lanky kids. They looked like that would almost fit into their positions, but they needed more work. He knew what he was getting himself into… he wanted this. He was going to give Washington a National Championship before he was done there. Failure meant losing his chance at leading a NBA team… his chance at being the player he always wanted to be.

"Welcome, boys," he would yell out. "Welcome to the special training camp that I made for us before we go back to Seattle for actual training camp. We want to know if you're here to win, or here just to mess around. I've played this game for almost 11 years and I don't play around,"

"Yo," said a taller Mocha skinned man that came and stood behind Jerome.

Jerome turns around to see his good friend and other, future, teammate Rudolph Henderson. "Hey Rudy I was getting worried. Boys this is Rudy Henderson: Power Forward. He's my best friend and balling partner. He is also a recruit that Coach Lo picked up for the next four years."

"Who's Coach Lo," came a voice from the back of the group.

Jerome stifled a growl, "He is the head coach of the basketball team; Head Coach Lorenzo Romar."

Rudy would laugh as he leaned over and whispered in Jerome's ear, "Looks like we got a batch of keepers here." Rudy would chuckle as Jerome shot him a glare, "Hey guys," Rudy would say, addressing the crowd of newcomers, and they would return the greeting.

"Alright guys," Jerome would put his hand up and interrupt, before we get into introductions, I have to do this," he would give each player a booklet, "Open those up please." They opened up and see a ticket.

"There is a saying that 'if you can't take the heat stay out of the kitchen', well," he would stare at the freshmen intently, "This kitchen can get to around 90 degrees Fahrenheit… and on our worse days, almost a hundred. If it hits a hundred we'll stop but we'll will feel it."

"You are here and should know that this month that you're going to go through will be an adventure," he holds up his hand to them. "We will push you mentally, physically and emotionally, and if you can't take it, well, there it is. Your ticket to Seattle to start school. But, after this, don't ask me if you can come back. That is for the people that can take the heat and if you couldn't, it wouldn't be fair to them." Jerome knows that he needs to show his ambition as well as his ability to lead. He wants that lingering feeling to be gone. One way or another, he'll make it happen.

"So! Are you guys ready for this?"

Freddie looks around and can see the nerves that are present in all of their faces. He feels it to and begins to wonder if he can make it or if he'll go Insane trying. They all nod, trying to mask the fear that; even if they do have the tickets, they may not make it back to Seattle to start the real Training Camp.

"Cool lets go to the van then we can all introduce ourselves there."

Thanks for reading Chapter 2 and i know you guys are asking about what is a screen and what is the Big East? well I'll help you out with that here...

College Basketball Terminology

**Big East Conference **- Made in 1979 and now consist of 16 Colleges and Universities amongst the northeast, southeast and Midwest, the schools are Connecticut, Rutgers, St Johns, Providence College, Nortre Dame, Louisville, DePaul, Seton Hall, Pittsburgh, South Florida, Villanova, Marquette, Georgetown, West Virginia and Syracuse. They are the biggest conference in College Basketball on number of Colleges/Universities and holds the record for most teams to get invited into the NCAA Tournament in 1 single season with eight.

**Screen** - A screen is a blocking move by an offensive player, by standing beside or behind a defender, to free a teammate to shoot, receive a pass, or drive in to score. In basketball, it is also known as a pick. Screens can be on-ball (when set for the ball-handler), or off-ball (when set for a teammate moving without the ball to get open for a pass). The two offensive players involved in setting the screen are known as the screener (who blocks the defender) and the cutter (who gets free from the defender).

**Sporterade - **another word for Gatorade, the sports drink.

If you want to ask anymore questions just review and pm me also. Please Review and thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Before I start this chapter i have to give props to my muse and beta Storyteller41, i felt that she was the only one really listening to my ideas and wanted to when others was ignoring me she was there listening, that i thank you and this one is for ya, please guys look at her stories and look out for some iCarly stuff from her, I smell a pure Cibby coming in from her so, thanks again and you guys after you read would love to hear from you. Also, again thank you KingxLeon21 for helping me with this story. You've been a good friend...

Chapter 3

_So, this is New York? _Freddie thought, as he sat in the window seat with Gibby in between him and a six foot eight inch, tall, dark, and lanky figure.

They were driving towards Jerome's house in Brooklyn. They took the scenic route and went through the streets. They were driving through Times Square in Manhattan. Freddie eyes roamed all over the place. He looked at the bright lights that were unlike anything he had ever seen In Seattle. From Broadway signs to Billboards, it was an orchestra of how far people had come in technology.

He was so lost in the scenery that he missed most of the other freshmen introduce themselves. Before he knew it, it was his turn.

"Benson," Jerome said as he looked up into his rear view mirror to see Freddie looking out at the light show that is Times Square. All Jerome could do is smirk. He knew that someone would be sucked into the view. "Someone get Benson out of his zombie trance."

Gibby did that job, being the nearest to Freddie. He tugged Freddie's arm "Benson," he said.

Freddie quickly shook out of his trance and looked around him. "Huh? Who said my name?" Gibby pointed up to the driver's seat where Jerome was sitting.

"I did Benson, you're the walk-on around here. The rest of us got scholarships. What're you here for?"

"Well," Freddie said, "I'm here because of a bet."

Jerome cocked a brow. "A bet?"

"Well, yea..."

"What bet, Benson? "

"Does it matter?" Freddie looks to the rear view mirror and sees that Jerome is staring at him.

"It _matters_ because you need drive to survive this trip. If your drive isn't big enough, you'll give up easily. Especially with the way I'm gonna push ya." Jerome put a sly smirk on his face.

"Alright, I'll tell ya." Freddie said responding to Jerome's nonverbal challenge. He told them the insane bet that Sam had put out for him because of an odd moment of pride.

"Bet ain't that bad Benson. You may want to avoid the first few class reunions but after the third, people wouldn't even know that you were guy at graduation that looked like a white Steve Urkel!" Jerome chuckled and so did Freddie and the rest of the occupants of the van.

"Yeah, but that's not the only reason I wanted to come on this trip."

"Then why did you come?" Jerome looked up and stared directly at Freddie's eyes. Freddie felt like he was on a polygraph test, with the way Jerome was pulling the icy stare off.

Freddie had to tell the truth, "I am here because I want to be more than just a techie on a web-show. I want to be a part of something that is bigger than just me; something that I can be a part of… something different… something special."

Freddie's eyes were locked on Jerome's throughout his entire explanation. Freddie's look oozed with confidence and trust. _I hope you can give me what I want._.

Jerome kept his stare but made a small smile. _You work hard enough and I can give you that plus more_... Freddie somehow understood and mirrored his smile.

"Well I know that most of us are here for that, to be something more than ourselves; to know how to be a part of a championship team. It's a special feeling. It really is something, to know that, to the other people around you you're, actually, a legend in their minds. It's what my cousin Sean Jackson said to me, and I want to feel that. i want to know that, somewhere around the nation, the world even; someone thinks of our team as legends."

"Wow," Freddie whispered, "that is a hell of a feeling"

"Yeah, it is. When you see videos form when Sean won his first English Premier League title and the smile that was plastered on that bastard's face; you will be jealous. But believe me; if you turn that envy into drive then that drive is gonna be your best friend, even when it looks like your worst enemy. You will thank your drive in the end."

Freddie thought about that last part intently. He knew that he was going to be physically tested. He knew that Jerome was going to prove that basketball is a very physical sport. What Freddie didn't know, was that Jerome copied his cousin, Sean. Sean's style used the very environment around you to train, and the surprises that you could get were limitless.

Freddie suddenly remembered the question that had been bugging him on the whole plane ride over, "Hey Jerome, why did you decide to come to Washington of all places? From what I hear you had some really good schools coming for you." Freddie suddenly said out loud.

"Cause, I felt that it was the farthest away from it all. I feel that going into the Big East Conference would not do much for me. Second…" Jerome glanced out of the window while at a stop light; a somber look on his face, "This city has turned into a curse for me. I love this place to death but," Jerome gives a long sigh, "But since losing that semi-final game, it feels like I am in exile. The only people I talk to from my days in high school are my coaches and Rudy." The light changed and Jerome continued driving, "No one else would give me the time of day. A lot of people around here feel like I am not a leader. They feel like I can't be counted on when It really counts. I'm gonna probe those guys wrong."

Freddie cocked an eyebrow in confusion, "Then why not go to some other school, like Kentucky or Duke? They offered you scholarships too, right?"

"I felt that there were too many 'divas' on those teams. Plus, I wanted to come in to a team that was young and had potential. So when Coach Romar came to me and offered me a scholarship, it felt like I was in a great situation you know. Young team, ambitious coach, in a good conference the Pac-10; we, really, have a chance to make a name for ourselves. This is what I was looking for so I went for it."

_Intriguing answer, for a guy so talented _Freddie thought, _he has some demons regarding this city._

"Plus," Jerome said suddenly, "The girls up there are the hottest in the conference." then he suddenly laughed as did the others.

Even Freddie gave a slight chuckle. He had a feeling the next four years, good or bad, would not be boring, not at the very least.

Later that night, Freddie was laying on the floor in the Living room. The bare, mahogany, hardwood floor rubbed up against him, along with the warmth of the room and the New York summer night, was making it hard for him to sleep. It, also, didn't help that he had just gotten off of the phone with his mother for what was the fifth time saying that he was still alive. Why he had to reaffirm this notion five times in five separate phone calls, he'd never know.

Just the thought of what would happen if he came home tired and he had to field a phone call from her in that condition, sent a shudder throughout his body. His mom taking the earliest plane here, worried to death about her son, would do irreparable damage.

He checks his PearPhone and sees that its 2:00 am. he decides that he should go to sleep. They have to get up at 5 o' clock in the morning, They had a long day that was in store for them tomorrow.

Back in Seattle...

Samantha Puckett was just finishing up with helping move Carly into her Dorm room. Sam would have a apartment off of the school grounds, thanks to the help of Aunt Maggie and her Uncle Garth.

After getting the love seat in, with help from Spencer, she sat on it and laid back with a sense of accomplishment. "Well that was a hard day's work." Sam said.

"Sam," Carly turned her head towards her, "you barely did anything til the end, and that was just so we could finish faster and go out to Applebarn to eat."

"But, they have this awesome 'Meats from Around the World' meal that I want to try," Sam got up and walked over to Carly to shake her by her shoulders, "They have the Bolivian bacon!"

"Well, we are almost done, so sit back as I get everything settled, OK?"

"Yeah Ok Carls." Sam sat back into the love seat that she helped bring in and was bored immediately. So she decided to do the first thing that came to her mind.

Annoy the dork.

She checks her PearPod and sees that its 11am PST, and a light bulb turns on in her head.

"Carls," Sam asked, "Can I borrow your Cell?"

Back in the city; Freddie is, finally, about to get some shut eye when he hears his phone go off. He checks to see who it is. "Carly?" Freddie would say to himself. He sees that it's a text message so he reads it.

**HEY FREDDIE!**

Freddie was confused, _why wake up a person this late_?

So he texted back...

**u no its 2 am right?**

another text came quickly.

**i no but i miss u**

Freddie gets a feeling that something is off. He cocks an eyebrow and texts back...

**I've only been gone a few hrs.**

He waits hoping that he would be able to end this soon, because in 3 hours he had to get up. He hears his phone beep and the text says...

**Well can a person miss u ****  
****Freddie?**

Freddie was taken aback by that comment. Had it been a few years ago, he would be all over this, and he would have run to Carly right after he read the text. Now though, things had changed. After his junior year the crush he had, basically, wore off. When Carly told him that she had feelings for him, he said that it was basically too late, and that his love for her was more of a sisterly deal.

So he would quickly text back...

**Look Carly, we talked about****  
****this b4. I don't feel that ****  
****way about u anymore, ****  
****things change, u no? Ppl ****  
****change. **

Sam wasn't expecting this. She was expecting a 'miss you too' or 'your second husband also misses you.' What he said felt so different. She never thought that he would say something so...

Mature?

It sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't ignore it but she shrugged it off, _Must be the wind. _She looked around to see if any windows are open.

All of the windows was closed in the living room.

_Whatever._ She quickly pushed it aside, and texted Freddie back;

**really r u sure?**

and as soon she sent it, another one came...

**Yea**

_Guess I should stop playing with the nub, got too boring too quick_. She thought, so she quickly texted him.

**Congrats u nub, u passed ****  
****my test**

Freddie heaved a sigh of frustration. _I should have known_, he thought, so he texts back Sam.

**Sam, y do u have Carly's ****  
****phone? **

**Cuz nub, boredom is a slick****  
****bstrd**

**I have 2 admt tht is tru. **

**So ur dn hlping Carly****  
****move n?**

**Yea, we're sposd 2 go out 2  
eat n a min.**

Sam drooled at the possibility of Bolivian Bacon...

**But freddork, u got n2 NY  
safely?**

Freddie cocked a eyebrow and smirked in interested, _she cared?_

**U care princess puckett? I ****  
****thought u never did**

**HA! u wsh! I was making sr****  
****ur tht I dnt h2 wake up 2 ****  
****frntc fone cls frm ur psyco ****  
****mom.**

Even Freddie had to shudder at that...

**Touche ms puckett, but I've gotten ****  
****here safely & now I need some ****  
****sleep**

**Y?**

**Sam it's 2 a.m.**

**no it's not its 11**

**Sam we have different time ****  
****zones**

**oohh...**

Freddie gave a slight chuckle, how did she graduate again?

**I h2 gt up 4 trning 2mro. **

**Wl good lk w/ tht, o & 1 ****  
****more thng, gt a pic 4 u. **

Freddie opened the message with interest. That turned out to be a huge mistake. There stood a Steve Urkel picture, right in front of his eyes.

**Nice try Puckett.**

Sam gave a hearty laugh and texted him back...

**Freddie u no resstnce is ****  
****futile rite?**

What she sent back surprised her and ticked her off and she really wished to take it back.

**A rare funny GW joke, I like it**

**WE look gt sm sleep & I'll c u l8r**

**Later.**

Sam sat back in thought. Did she, really, end up saying something that Freddie liked? I mean Galaxy Wars was OK... He shall never know... But she didn't mean to say what she said. That thought was never supposed to make it outside of her mind. What in the heck is going on? Is he bringing out the 'dork' in her or what? She knows that she went to him for help so that she could get her grades straight so that she could get into U- Dub, but this was just plain ridiculous.

_I'm not a dork, I'm not a nub, Fredward Benson has no affect on me, whatsoever__._

Only problem was; if he didn't she wouldn't be starting college this fall.

_Crap__._

Back in New York, Freddie was finally getting back to sleep. He knew that she was trying to get into his head about losing this whole bet. But If Freddie had one thing going for him, It was his determination.

He had never felt as determined as he does right now. He hadn't had to put his body on the line to prove a point since the fencing incident. Basketball was different, though. It wasn't like he could treat this like fencing, but he did know one thing.

He had a blonde headed demon back in Seattle to prove wrong.

Well that's another chapter done... More Terminology real quick

**Pacific 10 Conference** - Otherwise known as the Pac-10, is a college athletic conference which operates in the western United States. It participates in the NCAA's Division I; its football teams compete in the Football Bowl Subdivision (FBS; formerly Division I-A), the higher of two levels of NCAA Division I football competition. The conference's 10 members (which are primarily flagship research universities in their respective regions, well-regarded academically, and with relatively large student enrollment) compete in 22 NCAA sports. It was founded as the Athletic Association of Western Universities or AAWU in 1959, and went by the names Big Five, Big Six, and Pacific-8, becoming the Pacific-10 in 1978.

Known as the Conference of Champions, the Pac-10 has won more NCAA National Team Championships than any other conference in history. In fact, the top three schools with the most NCAA championships belong to the Pac-10 (UCLA, Stanford and the University of Southern California); while UCLA holds the most, winning a combined 104 team championships in men's and women's sports. Its colleges and Universities are University of California Los Angeles, University of California Berkeley, University of Arizona, Arizona State University, University of Oregon, Oregon State University, University of Washington, Washington State University and Stanford University. University of California Los Angeles has the most National Championships of any school in Men's Basketball with 11.

If you have anymore questions or much needed Feedback please review or for the heck of it pm me on here and thanks for reading and hopefully reviewing.


	4. Dog Days of Summer Part 1

Here is the next chapter thanks to KingLeonx21 for the help and uh Enjoy...

Disclaimer: Don't own iCarly, NCAA Colleges or University that is said in this story this is just for fun.

Now hope you like this next chapter

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Chapter 4: The dog days of Summer Part one

So Jerome sits forward staring at the players in front of him with a stare that would have Sam shivering.

"First week of our training Camp will consist of Conditioning, We are going to use what is around through most of the day and then get some weight lifting done after dinner at a twenty-four hour place. Then, the second week will be learning the offense and defense our team will do under our head coach, we would want to be ready for what is head in the actual Training Camp that is coming up for us, and don't worry, we will talk about it also during out conditioning week but we will go through plays the second week. Now for the last two weeks we will be actually playing." Everyone's eyes lit up at the prospect of getting to actually play in real games. "We'll do pick-up games during the third week…" He shot a glance at Rudy, "Then during the fourth week, we will be in a tournament."

When he said that everyone was looking at him with slacked jaws and confused looks. They were perfectly fine with playing in pick-up games that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, but a tournament just carried an air of importance that scared the crap out of them.

He held his hand up to quiet the place down.

"Okay, I know you're thinking: 'why that soon?' but you guys were basketball players in high school, we learn this offense well enough, and we can do well in the tournament at Rucker Park." Jerome could tell by the look on the newcomers' faces that their fears weren't eased by his confidence. So he decided to give it to them straight. "I know that you guys can play, but the level of competition at this level is unlike anything you've ever seen before. This tournament will give you that chance. So…" Jerome's eyes darkened, "you can either, embrace this chance or let it run you over."

At that point Rudy who was sitting next to Jerome looked at him with intrigue and curiosity. "Rome, the Ruck? Ain't that around the time of the..."

"Yea," Jerome interrupted, "The Entertainers Basketball Classic"

"Rome, can we talk in private, real quick?" Rudy said.

Jerome nodded and excused himself from the table, as did Rudy, and they went to his room.

Jerome sat on his bed and as soon he closed the Door Rudy let him have it.

"Are you insane?" Rudy whispered loudly, "That is the most competitive Street ball Tournament Rucker Park holds! The most physical players in the city play there. They're the definition of roughhouse basketball! They will have to fight for every possession… every basket… they may even have to just fight… period!"

Jerome just nodded his head.

"You're gonna be bringing kids that don't really ball like that, to a fireball of great college players and pros! The only high school players that go are one and done guys. Even most of the players we played with in our district said that the EBC is something they didn't want to go into 'til they were ready..." Rudy turns around to see a look of nonchalance, gracing his friend's face. He can't anything but shake his head in disbelief, "You really _are_ crazy… aren't ya?"

Jerome, through all of this, just raised his eyebrows, "Yeah... I am. Didn't you know that when we met in the Cage, all those years ago?"

"Of course. You was the smallest guy in the Cage, and you showed up everybody." Rudy sat on the bed next to Jerome, "But, you have any idea what's on the line, here?" Rudy hopped off the bed in frustration, "NBA scouts will be there, and those guys _do not_ play, man."

Jerome lets out a long breath, "I know, but those _kids_, as you call them, need to see the level of competition that's coming at them. It's not for the faint of heart... and you know that just as well as I do."

Rudy sat in a chair in the corner of the room, "I understand that, Rome. But they may seriously get overwhelmed." Rudy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "If the team suffers, the scouts will question your leadership ability, and that is something that you definitely don't want, especially if you're going to be a franchise player in the NBA."

"You're right," Both men stood up from their respective places and Jerome ran his hand through his hair. "But right now, for me it's about winning a National Championship, and doing what I can for the team that is out there, for the team that I am going to be around for the next four years. If the scouts can't respect what I am doing, well they don't know what basketball is."

"True, but look," Rudy would stare back his eyes darken, Jerome looks at him with a raised eyebrow and a confused stare, he's like that when he feels something will go wrong. "I believe that this team can do something with us on this team, but remember…" He places a hand on Jerome's shoulder, "You don't know what you're putting this team through, and they don't know what lies in store for them. Those guys out there…" He points back towards the closed door, "Those are west coast boys, and basketball in the northwest, as far as talent is concerned, does not compare well to the rest of the coast. They are west coast boys that might as well say they never balled outside of the state."

Jerome smiles at his friend, "Yep…" Rudy grew confused at his friend's smile, "Luckily, that's about to change."

"Okay, but I have a feeling that this may hurt before it helps." Rudy said and they both walked back out to see the players.

They walked into the group talking amongst themselves and having a mostly fearful look, they weren't ready for this and was about to take back the tournament till he looked up at Freddie and Gibby, those guys looked as relaxed and excited as they could be. It was like they had no doubts of the future ahead it was crazy.

Jerome likes Crazy...

**Week One: Conditioning**

Freddie Benson thought that conditioning would be a menial task. Even though you wouldn't call him an Adonis, he still went to the gym with Gibby, and held his own.

_I should be good, right? _

Freddie wasn't good at predicting those things well. He started to know that this was truly another animal when he was on the third block of their morning "Run" or what Freddie would like to call.

_The Urban Obstacle Course from hell... _

The Run consisted of running across town, six blocks from where they were at the Corner of Bushwick avenue and Sudyam, to Bushwick Park. It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't have to cut through alleys and climb over fences that seemed to be getting higher and higher the further they got. The worst part though…

"AARF! AARF!" Would be the Rottweiler that has been chasing them for the last two blocks.

He was faster than he thought he was as he was, gaining separation from the dog, and was rounding the corner to the last block till they had reached the park and Freddie looked up.

He has never seen fences this tall in Seattle. It had to be six feet tall and the rust from years of rain was showing, but as he stood there, hypnotized by the monstrosity that stood before him, the barking that he thought was gone was getting louder again.

_That damn dog, _Freddie thought as he tried to climb the wall. At this point, his legs were feeling it as he was climbing fences the five alleys before. He was starting to think that he should maybe find a way around the fence, but feeling the breath of the dog's bark on his butt got his butt in second gear and he got over that fence and dropped to the ground, on the other side. He ran across the street and saw the rest of the guys waiting for him at the basketball courts, they were all sitting on the asphalt with their backs against the metal fence that was surrounding the court. Their faces showed that they were feeling it just as bad as Freddie was. Heavy breathing, heads back and eyes closed. The sight made them realize that this was not what they expected.

"So the fastest here get their own Sporterade and 2nd through 5th gets to share one, while 6th gets a bottled water, and last," Jerome looks up towards Benson and with a Cheshire grin he says "The water fountain is over there."

Freddie ran to it like it was the last thing left on this barren land that is called Earth, but as he got a taste of the clear liquid he noticed what was wrong, it was warm...

He spit it out as soon as it hit his mouth and laughing could be heard throughout the whole park. Jerome walked over with a bottle of water.

"Yea, just a little lesson when you train here, don't drink from the fountain." He chuckled as he poured the water onto the ground, emptying the bottle to half capacity. He handed the half full bottle of water to Freddie, who wore a look of disbelief.

His chuckle disappeared and was replaced with a menacing look. "This is another lesson: Don't lose. Or else you'll have to watch everyone else celebrate with the thing that you want the most." Jerome walked back to the others.

Freddie couldn't believe this at all. However Freddie was overwhelmed by his thirst and couldn't really process Jerome's words. Freddie just took the colder clear liquid and it was like ice water hitting hot coals. He could've sworn he could see steam coming out of his mouth.

_This is more insane than i thought... _

At the end of a day full of the harshest conditioning Freddie had ever seen, let alone taken part in. Freddie lay in the room. He was absolutely exhausted.

Freddie was feeling no better at the end of the week than he had at the beginning. All of his organs threatened to stop functioning. All of his appendages threatened to fall off. He wanted to die, but he knew there was a reason he had to stay alive. To prove _her_ wrong. Although at the moment she seemed to be correct in her assumption that he wouldn't last.

Freddie knew Sam was going to revel into this, he felt tired and broken down, the body was just not ready for this harsh of conditioning. He was taught this week how harsh the Brooklyn Summer can be, his skin felt like it was on fire, and he looks a shade darker. His throat was on fire from the number of times he had thrown up today. His stomach felt so empty but he couldn't eat a thing when dinner came onto the table, he ended up drinking water through out. He felt like he was knocking on death's door after the eight hours of Conditioning, from running suicides, to push ups and climbing more fences after the morning jog. He felt like a Jenga Tower that was barely holding on to the final foundation stick before tumbling over and demolishing, and Samantha Puckett wanted to be that person to take that final piece and send him to his inevitable doom.

_Maybe I shouldn't even call her tonight. She'll just make it worse._ Just as he was about to put his phone in his bag, it rang. He looked at the phone to see who it was. His breaths out a long breath of despair before answering the phone.

"Hello?" he tried to sound full of vitality but that required more energy than was currently available to him.

He hears her cackle and he knows that he sounds a whole lot worse than he wanted to. "Ha. I knew it! You're already broken. Mind if I give you your bib and pacifier and call it a day?"

"I had a feeling you would say that," Freddie whispered; in his mind he was ready to just call it, give up and get ready for repairing my reputation after the graduation.

"Freddork, I know you are feeling destroyed, like you can't do this, and its only going to get worse, before..." She paused. "You are on the way back to Seattle… and I WILL be at the airport laughing in your face!" She then gave a maniacal laugh.

He couldn't respond… he just hung up the phone. He looked at the time. It was 1:00 in the morning. He had four hours of sleep before his day started again.

His phone rang once again. It was her again. He silenced the ringer and turned the volume all the way down and put it at the bottom of his bag. If he were to keep talking to her he very well may have gone home.

Meanwhile, Rudy and Jerome were reviewing the players' progress over the past week

"So Rudy, what do ya think?"

"You really wanna know what I think?" Jerome could hear the agitation in his voice. He could guess what the issue was.

"Well of course, you're my right hand in all of this."

"I think you're crazy for putting these kids through your training regimen."

"You know what the purpose of this month is?"

"I thought that it was to prepare them for the rigors of the coach's training camp… the _coach's_ training camp."

"Allow me to enlighten you."

"Please do. Because at this rate you aren't gonna do anything except…"

"Exactly. That's what this pre-training camp is for." Rudy's eyes widened in disbelief, "To weed out the week. Only the strong will win a championship, and I will weed out all of the ones who can't cut it."

"That's bull Rome. Even in high school, no one could keep up with you. You're gonna destroy these boys."

"Good. If they can't cut it then they don't deserve to be on this team." Jerome walked over to his charts that he used to document the progress of the boys, "So what do ya think?"

Rudy knew from previous experience that Jerome would not be easily swayed. Especially when it came to the game. He had to oblige, for now. "Well… the Gibson kid seems to be the beast of the bunch."

"Yeah, but what about the guy he came in with?"

"Who's that? The Benson kid?" Jerome nodded and looked over at Rudy for his input, "Well he seems to be a slow learner but…"

"Yeah, slow learner may be an understatement. At this rate he'll bring the whole team down."

"Come on Rome, give him a chance."

"A chance to what? To force this team down to mediocrity, to be a constant anchor, always draggin this team down… keeping us from reaching our full potential?"

"So what are ya gonna do? You're just gonna dump on him until he decides to quit?"

"If that's what it takes. I refuse to share the court with a bunch of weak links."

Rudy had to try to stop this. Jerome was sounding even crazier than he usually sounds, "Remember that game our junior year against Bushwick Community High School?" Jerome's body went rigid, "On paper, it should have been a walk in the park. What happened that night Rome?"

Rome shook his head at the memory of one of his greatest failures, "What's the point you're makin' Rudy?"

"My point is that, yeah, on paper this kid doesn't look like much but to count him out… to count anyone out, would be a big mistake. We slept on that teams potential and bit us."

"So what? Are you saying that…"

"Yeah, I'm sayin' that maybe this kid isn't the workout warrior that you may want him to be, but he may have potential. And as the leader, it's _your_ job to pull that out of him."

"Well, Job or not, he'll have to prove himself to me." Rudy could just shake his head in disappointment, "I think it's time to turn in, got a long day tomorrow."

With those words Rudy and Jerome went to bed, knowing that tomorrow would be the start of the most mentally taxing week of the young players' summer.

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Please Review, I am just glad you guys are reading though so I am cool with the hits and keep on doing the hits.


	5. Dog Days of Summer Part 2

**Dog Days of Summer pt.2**

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_Freddie looked up at Sam and the look on her face struck fear into his heart. He looked around and saw that he was behind a curtain on a stage of some kind._

"_Ready or not dork, its show time."_

"_Showtime? What do you mean…" He looked down at his clothes and was horrified to find the he was adorned with suspenders, and really thick glasses. He was also dressed in a pair of the tightest pants and the dorkiest shirt he had ever witnessed. It was fully stocked with a pocket protector and two pens and a mechanical pencil._

"_And now for the piece de resistance." She retrieved a small bottle of something from her pocket, and sprayed some on Freddie. She gave him a sniff and immediately recoiled. Freddie sniffed his shirt and instantly knew why she looked as if she was ready to vomit. He now reeked of cheese. And not the good kind like mozzarella or the kind that comes in a can, but the stinky stuff. The limburger or feta. It was truly atrocious._

"_Wait. Sam why am I wearing this stuff?"_

"_Oh no you don't Benson. You shouldn't have made the deal if you were afraid of the consequences."_

"_Consequences? You mean I lost? But wait I don't remember…"_

"_I suppose it was something that it you'd wanna forget. You guys managed to suck for four whole years… and you weren't able to do a thing about it." She gave a loud chuckle of pleasant disbelief, "I mean... the coach sent in the towel boy before you." She shakes her head as Freddie can only listen in dread. "To be honest, I never expected much outta you to begin with. In fact, the only thing I expect outta you… is a good laugh every now and then… luckily you're about to give me that in about a minute or two." With those words she disappeared through the curtains._

_He could hear her voice as it resounded over the amplifiers. "Ladies and Gentleman of the University of Washington graduating class of 2014… I present to you, Fredward Q. Urkel!" Without warning the curtains flew open and Freddie was exposed to a blinding light…_

"Ok Fellas! Rise and shine!" Freddie opened his eyes only to be blinded further as the sudden introduction of light was too much for his retinas to handle. "Today we learn the playbook."

Week two: The Playbook

Jerome started tossing books at all of the players. Freddie feels the book hit him in the chest and he thanks God that the book wasn't heavy enough to cause any damage. His eyes finally adjust and he looks over to his side to find a bowtie nest to his pillow. His eyes stretch and he throws the bowtie away from him as if it's very sight could give him the plague. "Alright, who put this bowtie next to my sleeping bag!" Gibby could only chuckle at his tiny prank.

"I'm sorry man." Gibby apologized through his fit of laughter, "Sam texted me last night told me to do it when you were asleep." Freddie just grumbles because he knows that Gibby has to be telling the truth. Nobody else hates him enough to pull something like this and Sam is the type of person that would text one of his friends to pull a prank on him. Torment him close _and_ from afar. It was a style all her own… at least that's what she told everybody. No one would dare to disagree.

Freddie reads the title of the playbook. "Basic Triangle Offense" Hmm, it says basic, so how hard could it be? He looks inside the playbook. His brain promptly explodes.

Now sitting in the den of Jerome's brownstone, Jerome took this time to brief the players about the offense that was in the playbook. "Now, this playbook contains the triangle offense that we will be using this season." Everyone opens their playbooks and leaf through them, most don faces of despair, and fear.

Seeing their fearful faces, Jerome smirks and decides to deliver the death blow, ""The Triangle Offense is one of those offenses that is special for how simple it is. We all have to work together for to this offense to run like a machine, and with this we learn to run it from here on in for the next four years."

"Wow," Freddie would say under his breath. As he stared ahead to the book that is in front of him, he cannot seem to stop staring at the x's and o's that is scattered in front of him. Arrows point too many different directions... Freddie, scoffs. "You call this simple?" He quickly realizes, however, that his voice carried a little farther than he wanted it to.

"Benson!" Freddie snaps his head up and sees the icy glare that Jerome is giving him, "You got somethin' to add?" Freddie, fear stricken, can only shake his head. "Good. Get your buts in gear gentlemen! We're headed to the courts."

And so started a week full of: early morning jogs, grueling afternoon practices, and late night study sessions. The work was exhausting but at least there was a routine. The routine helped Freddie to mentally prepare for what was to come. He was slowly becoming acclimated with this workout regimen, which he was certain wasn't really recommended for anyone who wasn't an Olympic athlete.

Later on that week, Jerome decided that everyone was too helpless to learn the plays on their own. So once they reached the courts he decided to give them a crash course in his understanding of the triangle. "So, since all of you have proven to be hopeless idiots, I'm gonna give you guys the basics of the offense." Freddie rolled his eyes.

He doesn't like to be called an idiot, "The play set up doesn't begin until we cross the half court line. From there we give the ball to the point guard, from there the center and power forward will set up at the elbow and the shooting guard and small forward will set up at the wings. From there we start the play. I give the ball to one of the players on one of the wings and use him as a screen to get to the corner. The player on the other wing will take my place at the top of the key. When I make the move to the corner the center and power forward will crash to the baseline to screen off any defender when I make my move to the basket. If I pass on the lay-up then the play will switch to the other side of the court. Which means that: when I am moving to the basket the player at the top of the key will move to the open wing and the player that occupied the other wing will move to the top of the key. Any questions?" he was received with blank stares and some more fearful faces. He could almost hear the brains sizzling between their ears.

_Jerome calls this the basics? _Freddie had a great deal of questions. He couldn't understand half of what he just heard, and what he did understand was too little to be put together into coherent sentences. It baffled Freddie. How in the world did anyone understand it? Where to go, the timing and precision; it all went way over his head. To him, the playbook was just a bunch of scribbles, and the spoken explanation of the playbook was nothing more than jargon. _Now I know how everyone else feels when I talk tech-stuff._

Whether or not Freddie had questions or not wasn't the issue. More like: How many questions?

Hearing no voices and seeing no hands, Jerome was satisfied with his explanation. Truth be told, he wasn't very likely to change his explanation anyway. "Good! Let's get started. Benson, Gibson, Foster, and Jamison… you guys are with me on this court. The rest of you will go to the adjoining court with Rudy." Everyone stood and went to their destinations. When Rudy's group left the court he turned to the group he was with and looked at Freddie with his most fearsome look, "Let's get started." He raised the whistle to his mouth and blew into it. He handed the ball to Freddie. Freddie just glared at him trying to will the ringing in his ears to stop.

And with that they were off, running to the other end of the court.

"Foster, you have to get down the court faster! If you're not there, the timing is thrown off!" Jerome shouted out to the players.

It was around 2pm in Bushwick Park Courts, they had their warm-ups and everyone, even Freddie, (_slowly_, of course), was getting used to the routine. So it was time to learn the playbook that we will have in the future. It was the triangle offense that they will learn. Mind you it's a more scaled down version of it. It was, supposedly, easier to learn.

Freddie couldn't really tell, "Benson!" Freddie cringed at hearing Jerome belt out his name across the court, "You have to get to the wing, why the hell are you standing in the corner!" Freddie was exhausted… everyone was. There had been no break all day… at least down at his end there hadn't been.

He looked to the adjoining court to see the group under Rudy's tutelage seated on the pavement. "Jerome, why haven't we been given a break yet?" Upon asking his question, Freddie immediately wished he hadn't.

Jerome turned and looked at him with a look that, he was sure, could kill anyone on the court. "You'll get a break when I decide to give you one! Now… we're gonna run it again to the other end of the court," He looked over to see Steve Foster, the center, gawk at the new order. "and we'll keep runnin it, until you get it right!"

Jerome raised the whistle to his lips. The groans of the four others on the court reached Rudy's ears. "Hey Rome, give 'em a break. They've been goin since five this mornin'!" Jerome grimaced and blew his whistle twice, signifying that they could rest for five minutes.

"Volcanoooooooooo!" Gibby screamed echoed across the court as he ran to the garbage can in the corner to throw up.

Foster, and Mike Jamison, one of the other forwards on Freddie's court, took the opportunity to pass out where they stood.

Jerome surveyed the surroundings and his face sprouted an evil grin. Working like a charm. He thought with a sick satisfaction. He looked over at Jerome to find him smiling as well. He shot Rudy a look as if to ask, What're you smiling at?

Seeming to understand, Rudy nodded over in some obscure direction. Following Rudy's nod, Jerome turned to see Freddie standing observing the scene, just as Jerome had been doing. Jerome's evil grin faded to an irritated grimace. He looked over at Rudy who was now giving Jerome an,_ I told you so look_.

Jerome returned his icy glare to Freddie. Freddie's eyes found Jerome's. He had, long since, decided that he didn't like the way Jerome's been treating him. These, less than savory, feelings caused his eyes to fix themselves into a glare. Those same feelings caused his mind to think,_ Try me. I can take whatever you have to give._

Jerome knew this look. Jerome practically_ owned_ this look. He easily read this look and sent a glare of his own to answer Freddie._ You ain't seen nothin' yet. _The amount of fatigue that Freddie was experiencing, coupled with the sheer intensity of Jerome's glare, caused Freddie to cower. His glare faltered and he backed away and went to go comfort Gibby in the corner.

The rest of that practice consisted of: Freddie's group running the "basic" triangle offense, Jerome yelling at them for screwing up the "basic" triangle offense, and Gibby throwing up from excessive yelling and exhaustion from running the "basic" triangle offense. Night had fallen and the lights had come on they went home… after staying an hour longer than Rudy's group for a reason unknown to Freddie.

Freddie's group drug themselves through the door at around 11 o'clock that night. Jerome was behind them and glaring holes through all of them. Too disgusted with the very sight of them, Jerome went up to his room. In his room, he found Rudy waiting on him.

"Rome, what the hell was that?"

Jerome just raised his eyebrows questioningly, "What was what?"

"At the courts. You worked them harder than I ever seen you work anybody before."

"You're crazy…"

"Gibby was vomiting in the corner!" Rudy received a blank look for Jerome, "The shirtless one!"

"Oh yeah… what's up with that anyway?"

"What, his vomiting?"

"Not that." Jerome chuckled and shook his head, "Why's he always shirtless?"

"Rome, focus!" Rudy tilted his head back in frustration, "At this rate, they won't be of any good use to the team."

"I already told you. If they can't cut it then they don't deserve to be on the team." Jerome opened a folder in which he's documented the players' progress.

"You remember when I started callin' you 'Rome'?" Jerome looked up from the folder to find that Rudy had his back turned to him. He returned his gaze to the folder. "It was after you lost the semi-finals… the first time. You wanna know why I started callin you 'Rome'?" Rudy turned and faced Jerome.

"Because it's the shortened version of my government name?" He answered never taking his eyes off of his folder.

"No."

"Was it because my leadership ability and commanding presence reminded you Caesar?"

"Are you crazy?" Rudy asked, completely dumbfounded. "Why would I recognize leadership ability after a loss like that?" Jerome opened his mouth to object. Rudy just put up his hand, signifying that he wasn't finished. "Look, I call you Rome because no matter how long it took to build it… Rome was still, easily, burnt to the ground."

Jerome tilted his head in thought. "So I remind you of Nero?"

Rudy shook his head in aggravation, "I'm turnin' in for the night." Rudy stopped at the door to the room, "Oh… Sean called, said he'll be in town for the next couple of weeks." Rudy didn't wait for a response. He walked down stairs, thinking, Maybe he can help you better than I can.

When he reached the living room he surveyed the players and noticed that one was missing. "Where's Benson?"

Gibby spoke up, "He had to make phone call, so he's in the kitchen." Rudy nods his head. He looks towards the kitchen.

Deciding that he's too tired to check up on him he lays back on the couch.

In the kitchen Freddie was just finishing a phone conversation with his mother. When he started the conversation with her, it was midnight. He had, now, been talking to her for an hour.

"No mom, everything's fine."

"But what about sunscreen? If you don't apply it your skin will start to peel and that rash will come back."

"Mom I never had a rash!"

"Well then I guess the sunscreen was working then wasn't it?"

"Mom I don't have time for this. I'll talk to you later." Freddie's mom had been releasing two weeks' worth of fussing on her son for the last fifteen minutes.

"But it's only ten o'clock."

"I know that mom, but on the east coast its 1 in the morning." He immediately regrets his statement.

After a long, deafening silence, "FREDWARD BENSON!" the storm comes. Freddie has to move the phone away from his ear to prevent any permanent damage. "WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU UP THIS LATE!"

"Mom… mom… I'm going to bed right now." He didn't wait for an answer. He hung up the phone and took a deep breath. He hadn't the energy to deal with her.

On the other hand there was one person who he would, somehow muster up the energy for. In all honesty, he was actually doing better than he was last week. In addition to that he felt bad because he hadn't spoken to Sam since he hung up on her the week before.

That conversation was on a Friday. She called a couple of times on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. After that, the calls stopped. Time to mend some bridges. He thought as he scrolled down to Sam's name in his caller id. He pressed send. All that was left now was to wait.

"Well, well, well… " Freddie smirked at hearing her voice. "Look who learned how to use a phone."

"Hey Sam. Look about last week…" He was cut off.

"What was up with that Benson? I had to call Gibby to see how you were doin'."

"Why would you care about how I was doin?" Freddie was beginning to recognize one of the rare moments where he had the upper hand in a battle with his nemesis.

"Just… protecting my investment." Her slight hesitation only increased Freddie's drive.

"Really? Then how come you only told Gibby to do one prank the whole time we've been up here." No answer comes and he's jumping up and down in his mind. "You care about me… You're concerned about my well being."

"Watch it nub-stain. I mean that I want you to, at least, make the team so I can watch you ride the bench for four years and suffer from the mental anguish of never being good enough to be there at the opening tip." Freddie's face fell, "Your fail is my win, dork. It just wouldn't be any fun if it all ended so fast."

"Ok… ok… I'll back off." Things fell into an oddly comfortable silence. Freddie decided to break the silence. "Seriously. I'm sorry for last week."

"No need. You probably did the right thing. I was gonna go for the kill that night." He could almost see her smug smile.

"Yeah well, now that my fears and regrets are relieved: How is Volleyball goin?"

"It's goin' ok… I guess."

"You guess?"

"I don't know. I like it but it feels like its…"

"Lacking?"

"I don't know… I guess that's one way to describe it."

"You miss the game don't you?" silence once again… this time, it's less comfortable. Freddie once again breaks the silence. "You know, I really do think that you should play again."

"What about the volleyball team? What will they think if I just quit?"

"Since when has Sam Puckett ever cared what anyone else think?"

"You know… I think you're right." Freddie's eyes widened at her admission, "But remember, you never heard that from me. You tell someone and I'll publicly deny it… and then I'll privately beat you senseless." Freddie chuckled. He'd be lying if he said he never missed their fights. He hears her breathe a long sigh. "Well Fred-bag, I'm gonna let you go. Keep up the good work…" was that a compliment? "I hear you've already managed to piss off the guy in charge with your overall suckish-ness." He hears her giggle, and all he could do was shake his head.

Normally he would argue, but he wasn't entirely sure she wasn't telling the truth. Not willing to ponder it further, he just shook his head. "Alright then, later Princess Puckett."

She giggles once again although this one sounds a little different. "Later dweeb." He just shakes his head once again, too tired to give it any thought at all. He hangs up the phone and saunters back to his sleeping bag.

Back in Seattle, Sam closed the phone to find Carly smirking over at her.

"What?" Sam shot at her friend.

"Who was that?" Carly asked already knowing the answer

"it… was… Johnny Matthews." Sam could lie to anyone… teachers, parents, officers, lawyers, judges… but she could never lie to Carly.

Carly noticed how her eyes shifted. "Uh-huh… and since when was Johnny's nick name Fred-bag?"

"Fine, so I was talkin to Fred-wimp. What's the big chizz?"

"No big chizz," Carly commented casually, "Although, you did do a lot more giggling than normal." Receiving no answer from her she sighed. "Well I'm gonna head back to the dorm, mind walkin me to my car? It's late and I'm pretty sure the skeevs are out around this time of night."

"Sure, let me get my bat." She grabbed her bat and shoes and they headed to the parking lot. "You know? It really sucks, that you won't stay with me in the apartment."

"I already told you, Sam. I wanna experience college life."

Sam just scoffs, "You wanna experience Gibby life." Carly just nudges her friend in the shoulder.

"Shut up." They reach her car and Carly walks around to the driver's side, "You really should try it."

"No thanks Carls, I'll let you have Merman Gibby to yourself."

"Gibby is not a mermaid, Sam!" Carly put her head down to hide her blush, mumbling… "And he's already mine."

"What did you say?" Sam's sudden question shocked Carly as she was sure that she kept her voice low enough that Sam couldn't hear her.

Thinking fast Carly tried to cover her tracks, "Umm… I said, 'I meant college life'." That sounded the same didn't it? Sam just eyed her friend suspiciously.

Sam just waves her hand, dismissing the subject. "I don't really care about the college experience or any of that chizz."

"You're soundin' more and more like Freddie." Carly chuckled when Sam glared at her for daring to utter such an obscenity.

Sam's glare faltered, "Yeah, whatever."

"Yeah, whatever." Carly mocked. "Get in I'll drive you closer to your door."

Sam got in and enjoyed the short journey to her front door. She walked up the stairs and gave it some thought.

_Am I really starting to sound like Freddie?_ She shuddered at the thought. _Maybe I should think about giving the college experience a shot._

**A/N: and that is another chapter, I know that all the basketball terminology Is confusing but its putting into Freddie's shoes about this, hes a techie trying to understand something new at the highest level. So I hoped you like it more is coming and please review I appreciate it so much. Thanks for your time. And also to ask any questions about this story review too. Or PM what ever lol.**


	6. Dog Days of Summer Part 3

**Authors Note: Thanks for the hits for the last chapter I hope you like what you see here and Please review and pass this story on it would be a great help. **

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**Chapter 3: The Dog Days of Summer Pt.3 **

**Week 3: Pick Up games **

**F**reddie was thinking one thing as he sat scrunched up in the L train towards Lower Manhattan.

_"Why is it this packed when its 6:30 am in the morning?" _

Freddie and Gibby were the only ones standing amongst the players in the middle of this packed MTA train that was going through most of Brooklyn at the moment. This could be considered a claustrophobic's nightmare. He was scrunched between some people who were wearing suits and just going off; yelling into their cell phones about their jobs. They sounded like they were Wall Street Brokers on the way for the early morning bell.

"I TOLD YOU TO SELL THAT STOCK!" Bellowed the Broker on the right.

"HOW, IN THE WORLD, DID YOU MESS UP THE STENMAN ACCOUNT? HE WAS ONE OF OUR BEST CLIENTS!" yelled the one on the left. The frustration was evident in both of their voices as they would just yell and add to the noise pollution that was already caused by the forsaken train. Freddie would look down to a quiet Jerome. He had his IPod on and the world around him was nothing more than his music and darkness, as he had his eyes closed.

_Wish I had that luck to feel like that right now, _Freddie thought as he kept looking around. Amongst the crowd he saw Rudy talking to another one of the freshmen about the play book. He sees everyone else talking amongst themselves except...

"Hey, where is..." he would say to himself mostly but then...

"HELP!"

Everyone would look to see that Gibby was the claustrophobic one, as he was sandwiched between so many people. "ANYONE! HELP MPHHH!" His sound would get sucked in more as the large number of people literally became a black hole where Gibby was.

A teammate decided to give Gibby his seat, before it was too late, and Gibby suffered a mental breakdown. He, gladly, took it; hyperventilating, with his eyes wide, "I feel like I just got violated." The look on his face showed it as well, with his tousled hair, and sweat pouring off of his face and cheeks turning a bright red. New York really can leave an imprint on a person.

Beep! Was the sound of the train making one of its stops? The Wall Street people got off at that stop.

He sees a lot of people get off, as they were at a stop, and he saw a free seat become open that was across from Jerome, who, through all of this, still had his eyes closed. He went for it and got to it in time. Unluckily, however, other people also boarded the train and, even more unluckily, his seat. Before he knew it, he was squished between two manly looking women.

_Maybe they were beefed up you know, like bodybuilders?_ Freddie thought, hopefully.

Then, the one on the left spoke, "Hey baby, how's it hanging?" it was, truly, a man's voice that came out.

"You looking delicious this time in the morning... and I didn't have breakfast... yet." The one on the right sounded just as manly as the one on the left, and you could hear a loud gulp from Freddie.

A slight chuckle came from Jerome. _Welcome to New York Benson._ The rest of the way he was trying to sway off any attempts to give him a "Wake up Call" of sorts... Freddie couldn't have shuddered any more than he did at that moment, _Maybe losing this bet wouldn't be a bad idea... _

30 Minutes Later...

"Finally!" Gibby would say from behind them. He would breathe deeply. Suddenly, a hacking cough could be heard. The air on this day wasn't much better than the scent that was the Subway. They had the summer to thank for that. They look at what is ahead of them for the better part of the week. It was a bunch of courts scrunched all together and Steel Fences would cover all of the surrounding courts like they were in jail or something. Ballers are in light showing for now, as the sun is just now rising in front of them, but there were more than what you would usually see in the morning.

Then, Jerome would, suddenly, walk in front of them and stare them down.

"Boys," he would say. "Welcome to the place where my name was first known. The West 4th Street Basketball Courts, otherwise known as, 'The Cage'. It was here where my Talents were picked up to another level. I love it here... more than Rucker Park, because 'Roughhouse' was the game that I picked up here. It is also the game that I am about to show you guys in some pick-up games." Jerome would scan the crowd standing before him to see his possible teammates. What he sees is that; what he has ahead for this week will be crazy. Then again… it's what he wants. What ne needs… crazy. "I don't know what you guys got, up in the Northwest... but here, it's about who has fight in them. What you see in highlights of street ball is at Rucker Park. What happens here is true Physical play. People have had ribs broken; came home with strained backs; and I even seen someone break their hand, and come back for more the next day. This is the place you need to go through if you lived in New York, you don't survive here, you surely can't survive tournaments at 'The Ruck'. So, you guys ready?"

Fear was woven to the boys' faces, everyone except Freddie and Gibby, who were just confused. "Ok, its better than people running, so what will happen today is; We will have some other players come and we are going to play some classic 21." As Jerome said this to the others they were relieved. "Simple. Right? Oh, there they are! Guys, come over here." They looked to the right and saw some regular looking guys. They had a good build, but nothing out of the ordinary. A tall looking dudes around 5'9 to 6'1. Nothing out of the ordinary really. They looked like normal people.

"Ok," Jerome would say as he pointed to the shortest, tan skinned player. "This is Raymond Keller, 2 time All-State guard, He played Shooting Guard and made 1st team all-state and then moved to the Point in his senior year and got to second team, All American, He is going to play at the Syracuse University this fall."

Fears were upped a notch for everyone.

Then Jerome went to the next shortest he was 5'9 Darker skinned than the rest but had most muscle, "This is Jamal Hart, he plays Shooting guard in is the only one not All – State…" Relief spread throughout the group, "But," Jerome perked up, with a conniving smirk, " That is in basketball, as he is a All American in Track and Field, Excelling in the one hundred meter dash, He goes to LSU in the Fall " The guards in the group was whispering to each other wide eyed in all.

Jerome has definitely done his job.

"And finally," He looks to his tallest guy mocha skinned man. He looks to be the strongest of the three. "He is Our SF/PF, His name is Eddie… how you pronounce it again?" the player would whisper his name, "Oh, Eliakendu. He is All-State and All-American not just in basketball, but in wrestling. He is from Liberia, tough guy he is. He goes to Oklahoma State in the fall."

By this point, even Gibby was freaked out by what he maybe going up against.

"So, we're just gonna have a simple game of 21, to see how everyone works against, well… our opposition, they are also on teams that are in the Tournament at Rucker Park Next week, after the first time we will have a break, a couple of the guys may leave to do different things but random people will come in on this and it will get physical. Think you're up to it?"

No one has a real answer for that, while Rudy's hand would cover his hanging head and he would shake it in disappointment.

"OK," Jerome would say in excitement, "Lets get started."

Hours Later…

Rudy and Jerome would be captains, and pick players. Jerome chose two of the players that were theirs and Rudy would have one, also Jerome would take the players that have shown the most potential (secretly of course). Among them would be Gibby.

Freddie, of course, would be stuck with Rudy's team. During the first few games of 21, Freddie didn't get much of a chance to show his "abilities" per say. He just passed the ball a lot. But defensively he was, definitely, up the creek because he was paired up one on one with one of the "other" Players. Jamal, the Track star. He was definitely the wrong guy for Freddie to go one on one with.

Mother Nature was in on it as well. As she was trying her best to embarrass Freddie, as the heat was showing its fangs. It was reaching 99 and at other points of the game around 103, as it was shown on the thermometer on the fence. He was feeling those infamous rays as he tried to catch up with his matchup, but it felt that the guy was always one step ahead of him. His Matchup, the shooting guard/track star, would use every trick in the book to get open and get his shot off. He did everything, from forcing Freddie into crashing into players by making his sharp turns, to his notorious crossover, which was going from left to right so well that he would just leave Freddie in his dust in an embarrassed, heap on the pavement. And if Freddie was lucky enough to keep track of him, Jamal just made him look foolish, by going for the shot only to quickly pull it down and make his sprint towards the basket. If Jamal didn't make him look foolish, then, he would make Freddie look weak by simply powering through him. _When Jerome said roughhouse, he wasn't kidding._ Freddie, many times, thought about calling for a foul then thought better of it, figuring that he looked weak enough as it is.

The Uncanny speed of his Matchup paired with the heat has taken a toll on him, more and more he felt like falling and not getting back up, he thought he was done for, then, Jerome stopped the game.

"Hold up," he would say he would stare intently towards Freddie, and then would look at what he was facing, "Hart," he would say to him, "That's enough," _Was I offered Mercy? _Freddie thought in his head. He was feeling a huge weight off his shoulders.

"I'll take him on," _AWW CHIZ! NOW JEROME! _Then it felt like a bigger one was put right on his shoulders…

"Hey J!" a new voice came onto the fray and Freddie looked up to see a guy that was three inches taller than Jerome at 6'3 and was the same shade, He had a plain white tee and Jean Shorts on and his fitted baseball cap tilted forward. He looked familiar…

"Well, well, well…" Jerome would say towards the Mystery Person.

"You should give these boys some rest." He eyed the weary players, "They looked like crap." Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone vomiting in the corner, "Is that one yours too?" he would ask with a knowing smirk.

Jerome turned around to see that, it was indeed, one of his players, "Gibson! Stop Throwin' up and get over here!"

"Yeah J, They definitely need a break." He would say with a chuckle.

"Yea ok, only because you're here cousin," Jerome would say. Again, the weight was lifted off of Freddie's shoulders as he sighed in relief. It was their third game of 21 and they were starting to wonder if they were ever getting a break again.

"Aunt Janine said you would be out here, and Rudy was right about what he said on the phone about giving people a rough time."

"Oh he did really!" Jerome would glare straight into to Rudy's eyes. Rudy would just shake his head…

"Well aren't you gonna introduce me?"

"Right. Guys…" Freddie noticed the sudden change in Jerome's demeanor. _Guys? Since when, are we 'guys'? What happened to 'gentlemen' or 'boys'?_ "it's a pleasure to introduce Sean Jackson…"

_Wow, _Freddie thought, _Jerome was right after all…_

"This guy is one of the best strikers on one of the best teams right now in the soccer world. He led his Newcastle United Soccer team to their first English Premier League title this year in their first year back from being in the League Championship. It's a feat that's never been done before in the history of, not just English soccer, but in history of the worlds game. And in a few weeks he will go on to represent the United States in the World cup in South Africa!" Jerome would say enthusiastically. _This new Jerome is kinda creepy… but at least he's pleasant._ Freddie thought, while still gauging the "new" Jerome.

"Again J, I had a team. I was not alone." Sean would interrupt.

"But you scored 4 goals in a comeback against Manchester United at Old Trafford!"

"I know but they had to pass it to me to give me those chances, that team gave me a chance to win the game." Sean would say annoyingly.

"Well ok," Jerome would hang his head down.

"But anyway," Sean would say as he turns towards the others, "You boys hungry?"

Everyone would nod their head furiously.

"Well, I know a place not far from here. It has the best fried chicken in the city. Come on! It's on me! Including you J! We need to talk anyway."

"Alright then, let's go," Rome would say as they would walk towards the restaurant.

30 minutes later they were at the restaurant eating the food they'd ordered. Freddie and Gibby were together with Rudy at one table and the other freshmen were at another. In the far corner, Jerome and Sean were feasting on their Fried Chicken and Green beans.

"So… _this_ is Soul Food. My goodness, its touches you man." Gibby would say as he was finishing up his plate of Fried Chicken, Okra, Mash Potatoes and Cornbread. Freddie was even impressed how good it was. He wouldn't call it a out of body experience like Gibby would, but it was good nonetheless.

"Sean was right dude," Rudy would look up from his chicken and waffles, "Best place to eat some down home southern cooking, is here." He would put syrup all over his plate, and dig back in.

"It's good…" Freddie would say…

"GOOD! GOOD!" Gibby shouts back towards Freddie, "It's on another level… Sam would even love this that how good it is."

"Gibby, Sam would love any place that served any type of meat." Freddie found his mind starting to drift back towards Seattle, "Still… Sam would never leave this place if she didn't have to."

Then he hears his cell phone that was in his bag, going off, he goes to see who it was and see the devil herself was on the other line.

He wonders if he should take this call, knowing she is out to ruin a good time he was having with the boys. The fact that he was getting overwhelmed overall didn't really help to motivate him to answer. He wouldn't want to deal with another one of her rants from her of all people. _But maybe it was an emergency about Carly _Freddie thought, _yeah that's it. It's Carly. _

"Hey guys I have to take this, I'll be right back." He would say and he would go outside and open up the phone.

"Hello?" He would say but then he knew that it wasn't an emergency.

"So, Dork, how is it playing in the big kid's sandbox? Did you cry to mommy and get a plane ticket on the way back to Seattle?" She would say in a serious and bored tone like she was not having fun with this, but he knew she was, it was way too obvious…

"Sam, you know I would never do that" Is what Freddie said aloud, _Even though I have been thinking about whether I will come back to Seattle on a stretcher or a casket._

"Ok Fredward, but how is the rest of the city, are there any good restaurants you been to?"

"I've only been to one, but this one has very impressive Soul Food."

"Soul Food? What's that supposed to be, like an out of body experience?"

"Well," Freddie said "Gibby thinks so, and he said you would have never left. That's how good the food is." Then for the heck of it he described the food. "Sam," he would lower his voice in a hushed sensuous tone, "the food is on another level, the collard greens are supposed to be cooked with a hambone in it for flavor. It would be your favorite veggie when you're done with it, and the mashed potatoes are just delicious how they would drench it in pure dark brown gravy,"

He heard nothing on the other side so he thought it was good thing and continued. "And the Fried Chicken," he was sure he heard a whimper, he would chuckle and then he whispered, "It's double battered in this special oil that just makes it crunchy and delicious that would make your taste buds explode. From the first crunch till the end, you would feel like you were eating chicken that came straight from heaven." He hears a sharp intake of breath and smirks, "And the ham is to die for." He didn't even have the ham, but he figured it would be the perfect torture for Sam who was stuck, with an entire country separating her from her ham.

The next thing he hears is a click on the cell.

Back in Seattle, Samantha Puckett felt like she finished a workout, heavy breathing even some sweat dripping off her temple. _ It is hot today, _She thought, but she looked at the thermometer but it was at a cool 71 degrees.

So she screamed up stairs to Carly "Carls, Get your purse we are going to KFC!" and then Carly would come downstairs and would grab her purse and say "Why Sam?" Sam's only response before closing the door to her apartment was…

"Because mama is hungering for her Extra Crispy."

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**Authors Note: And that is Chapter 6, i hope you like it, and their will be a good amount of seddie in this story and it will get better also. but thanks and read and Review! **


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1 please...

**Chapter 7: The Test Part one**

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After a long week of pick up games that really pushed Freddie to the limit. He tried to stay away from play as much as possible. He would just pass the ball whenever he had it in his hands, even when he is open. On defense it was pretty much the same, as he would just get embarrassed with the talent he came up against. It didn't matter who went one on one with him. So it was just enough to get him past the week with few problems.

It was the night before the tournament. It was very late and even Rudy was sound asleep. Sean and Jerome were in the kitchen, seated at the island. Sean wanted to talk to Jerome about his leadership skills.

"You're bold for pulling this off. You know?" Sean would say with a shrug, "But I don't recommend this as a way to be a leader in Amateur Athletics." Sean and Jerome were seated at the family table.

"Aww come on man," Jerome would say in frustration..."You've done it with your Teammates at Newcastle."

"But…" Sean interrupts, holding up a finger, sitting forward as he stares intently at Jerome, "Those guys were professionals. Your guys…" Sean nods towards the front room where the team is asleep, "…they don't seem to want to take the road you're taking."

Jerome groans again, "Look, cousin, I know what I'm doing, and I sort of understand where you comin' from, but I warned and promised them that they'd be pushed to their limits and I am going through with my promise." Jerome takes a deep breath to calm himself down.

"And what promise would that be? Trying to kill them before their college basketball careers start?"

"Sean…" Jerome closed his eyes, and groaned. He's been going back and forth about the 'regimen' hes been putting on these boys.

Sean puts his seat forward. "Now look kid…"

"Kid! I'm only three years younger than you!"

"Whatever," Sean waves his hand dismissively, "Look, I know what you're doing; tryin' to correct the mistakes you made in high school. Am I right?"

Jerome, confused, looks over towards the door where he knew Rudy was sleeping on the couch. With a groan he looks back towards his cousin/mentor. "Did Rudy put you up to this? When he gets up he is going to get a can of whoop- ass..."

"Rome, you're not going to beat Rudy's ass for this."

Jerome looked at his cousin, confused "Now you calling me Rome?"

"Hey," Sean raises his hands, "As Rudy explained it, it makes total sense." Sean sits back with a smirk on his face, placing his hands behind his head.

Jerome sat back with his arms crossed. "Still think it's something to do with Caesar." He would grumble childishly, like a kid who had been sent to his room.

Sean would Chuckle heartily. Caring for his family is his main job; the soccer gig just pays the bills. Caring was the key to his success as a soccer icon. He always trusted in the people he had. That's why he's taken such an interest in what Jerome's doing. He want to give Jerome that knowledge.

After calming down from his chuckling fit, Sean regains his composure, "Look," Sean would say as he sits upright. "I feel like you have that talent and that eager ambition that will take you places, kind of like how I was when I was at Newcastle, but please listen. Show them you can have fun as well." and he would stare intently at Rome "That, among other things, will make you one helluva leader."

He knew Sean was just being a good cousin but he, also, knew this was going to work… that it had to work. So, he leaned forward and said, "I know what I am doing, and damn it, I have my ways to make this work, ok? Now…" Jerome leans back with a smug look on his face, "…watch Caesar work his magic."

"Ok, *cough* Nero *cough*"

"What was that?" Jerome would say through Gritted teeth and squinted eyes.

"Nothing, oh powerful Caesar." Sean would give a slight chuckle and a mock bow.

"Yeah whatever." He looks at his cell phone. "Look, it's almost four in the mornin' and I have to wake up the fellas at ten so that everybody can get to the courts for practice before the tournament, so I have to get some kinda sleep." Jerome heads to the kitchen door and turns around before leaving, "You're gonna be there tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, kiddo." Sean chuckles.

Jerome scowls and turns to walk out of the room, "You're only three years older." Jerome lay in his sleeping area reflecting on the conversation he had just had. Could he be overdoing it? Could he really bring about the destruction of his own team?

_Nah… everything will work out fine…_ He turns on his side trying to focus on the game… _It has to._

At eight, that morning, Freddie was jolted awake by a loud beep. Somehow, everyone is still asleep. He checks it out anyway, and what he sees surprises him...

_Hey Freddie its Carly. Surprise! Me and Sam are in New York to Root you guys on, (Well just me, Sam wanted to see that Soul Food Restaurant, that got her all hyped up)_

Freddie had to chuckle on that one...

_Now, I would love to meet you guys at this Cafe over at Times Square, Sam won't be with us, and I don't know why maybe shes off to find that restaurant. Oh well think you can meet me in a hour?_

Freddie unsure if he should do this goes to a sleeping Jerome…

"Jerome." he says as he is shaking him...

"What Benson?" he mumbles, still in a slumbering state.

"Can I go see some friends that came from Seattle?"

"Yea Benson, just be at the courts by 1 o'clock, ok?" Jerome promptly turns over, burying his face in a couch pillow.

Freddie Nods furiously, "Great thanks,"

"Nah leh abrah slee." Jerome mumbles sleepily into his pillow.

Freddie, not sure what Jerome said dons a confused look, "What?"

Jerome turns and faces Freddie with an annoyed groan, "Now, let a brotha Sleep. I want to be ready for the game." And Jerome turns over, drifting back into his slumber."

Satisfied with his answer, he responds to Carly.

_Of Course, I got the ok from Jerome and ill meet you there,_

Freddie would get his instructions and say he would meet her there, now he goes to wake up Gibby and he's out cold...

"Gibby," Freddie would shake the little giant as hard as he can.

Gibby groans and gives off an annoyed sigh, "Freddie, I know about the text I got one too." Hoping that the conversation's over, Gibby puts his head on the pillow.

"Well…" Freddie Whispers, "You gonna come with?"

Gibby groans once again. This time, more angry than annoyed, "Not now. I told Carly I meet her later."

"Alright. Will I meet you at the courts or with Carly? "

"Most likely with Carly," Gibby turns his back to Freddie signifying that he's finished with the conversation.

Freddie didn't take the hint, "Gibby…" Gibby releases a loud snore. Having caught on, Freddie smirks "Ok, Later man." Freddie takes a shower and gets dressed...

He comes down the stairs ready to go. He grabs his phone and checks the time. _8:45? How much time did I spend in the bathroom?_ He shrugs it off and heads to the door.

When he's about to reach the door, Jerome mumbles loudly. "Oh, and be careful Benson; New York is a very easy place to get lost."

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The quick pace of New York City was something new for Freddie and something scary at the same time. He was usually traveling with the rest of his team, and that was using some form of transportation.

"I could've sworn it was this way." He looks around at the bustle of people and immediately found out that you shouldn't stand still on a New York side walk.

"Hey watch it!"

"Sorry sir I…" Freddie looks up to see the same man-lady that he saw on the subway. Hopefully he… or she… didn't remember him.

Judging by the grin, and look of realization on the person's face, there was no hope for Freddie. "Well, if it isn't my subway sweetie." Freddie blanched at his nickname.

"Sorry but I'm late for… a meeting." Freddie silently thanks the powers above that his arguments with Sam increased his ability to think on his feet. With those words he hastily heads away from the man-lady.

Deciding not to risk any more chance meetings, he decides to hail a cab. He hasn't had to spend a lot of money on this trip so he had what he hoped was more than enough to cover the trip. After seeing a number of people sticking their hands up and yelling out for taxis, he figured that was how it was done. "Taxi!" the yellow car slowed down and stopped.

_Hmm… that wasn't so hard._ He started to walk to the taxi but was, abruptly, pushed aside as a tall red head open the door and got inside. "Hey what the…"

The woman rolled down the window and yelled out, "Sorry kid, you snooze, you lose." Freddie stood there with his mouth agape. As the cab sped off, he heard the woman's voice, "Tough luck kid!" She didn't have to tell him.

He repeated the taxi hailing process. He rushed to the cab this time and got in. "Where to, kid?"

"Umm… Times Square." The cab driver sped off towards the destination. By the time he reached Times Square, he convinced himself that he would never take a cab again. He hastily paid the man, told him to keep the change, and jumped out of the car.

Luckily he could see the café in the distance. Grateful that his journey was almost over, he walked to the café. He was amused to find that the café's name was El Café.

Freddie walks into the café looking for Carly. He scans the café but is unable to locate his friend. He contemplates yelling out her name, but decides against it, knowing how crazy he would look yelling out random names in public. He decides to walk over to the counter and orders himself a coffee. While waiting in line he checks his cell phone. _10:18. I can't believe I wandered around New York for an hour and a half before deciding to get a cab. I could've died._

While the waitress takes his order he looks to the tables and sees Sam sitting by herself. He takes his coffee and pays for it, forsaking his change. Against his better judgment he decides to speak to her. "Sam?"

"Freddie!" Sam's surprised look doesn't go unnoticed. However, the surprise quickly fades and is replaced with her natural disposition, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm supposed to be meeting Carly here."

"Of course you are." Her exasperation is evident in her voice.

Freddie sighs with the same amount of exasperation, "It's not like that, Sam." The crush has long since been dead, and he was getting tired of defending himself, "I didn't even know you guys were gonna be here." Freddie takes a seat across from Sam. "So…"

"So…" Sam didn't like this type of silence. Nothing good ever came from this type of silence. "You said you were lookin' for Carly?" Freddie sighs, noticeably, angrier than before, "Calm down, dork. I was just gonna say that maybe you're at the wrong café." Sam points to the window which faces the other side of the walkway.

Freddie looks in the direction as directed by Sam's finger and his eyes stretch as he sees a café across the street. However, that wasn't the worst part. Upon further inspection of the building on the other side of the walkway, he sees that it has the same style, same setup, and same name as the café that he was currently in. Indeed, it was the same café he was in and yet it wasn't where he was.

Seeing Freddie's dumbfounded expression, Sam had to laugh. "I know. It's crazy right?"

Freddie quickly recovers, "So, the game doesn't start for a while. What do you plan on doing until then?"

Sam pauses, she hadn't really thought about it. She supposed that she would just spend the day with Carly. Carly's aunt lives in New York, so she supposed that they would go back there until the games started. Just as she was about to answer, she saw Freddie's jaw clench as his eyes trained on the door. She turns and spots Jonah as he comes through the door.

"What's he doin' here?" Freddie murmurs before he could stop himself. He averts his gaze to his coffee cup in hopes that Sam didn't hear him

"He's in the tournament today." His luck never was all that good. He looks up to find Sam glaring at him, "Didn't you know?" Freddie's frown seemed to deepen, despite his greatest efforts to control his face. Sam instantly went on the attack.

She gets up and walks over to Jonah and gives him a hug. Jonah returns her hug and whispers in her ear, "What are you doing?"

She responds, "Just go with it, or you can forget about Val."

"Why do you have to bring Valerie into this?" Sam finds some loose skin on his back and pinches him. "Ahhh... Alright, but you REALLY owe me!" Whispered Jonah.

"Atta Boy." Sam patted him on his back twice.

Freddie notices the length of their hug and his insides start to boil. Not only for the fact that they have been in their embrace for more than thirty seconds, which is an extremely long time to hug someone, but also because of the fact that Freddie remembers Jonah as the first guy able to make Sam stop being herself. He crushed her and Freddie hated him for it. He shakes himself out of his thoughts just in time to realize that the two had rejoined him at the table.

Freddie, once again, lost control of his mouth. "What is he, your boyfriend or something?" He immediately regretted the words.

"I don't see how that's any of your business." She trains a glare on him as Jonah sits back amused, "Listen up, doofus. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself. So what, if he's my boyfriend?" Jonah dons a snide look and extends his arm around Sam's shoulders, never taking his eyes off of Freddie. "I came over here for him." Sam's glare was challenging his, "What are you gonna do about it?" Freddie lost the will to fight her glare and looked away. She was right. What could he do?

Freddie clears his throat and looks towards Sam, "You're absolutely right." He looks over at Jonah, trying his best to remove the frown from his face, "So, I hear you're in the tournament today?"

"Yep, got into Washington State on a scholarship. One of the teammates said something about a tournament that features the best of the best so I figured that I should be a part of it."

"Ok, cool, I'll see you out there then."

"Oh yeah, that's right Gibby's down here with the group from U-dub." Jonah nods thoughtfully, "That's real cool of you to come all the way across the country just to support your friend."

"Actually," Freddie clears his throat again. Although he doesn't really know why, "I'm playing as well."

Jonah laughs, "You! I don't think I've ever seen you pick up a basketball, let alone join a basketball team."

"Yeah well…" Freddie started

Jonah interrupts, "I mean, you didn't play for the high school…"

"I know but…" Freddie tries to interject.

Jonah, continues, "You didn't play for a rec league…"

"Yeah but…" Freddie tries once again getting more and more frustrated._ How would he know that?_

"I didn't even see you in any of the parks I played at when i went back to the Sea-"

"Alright, chill!" this earned Freddie the looks of the other patrons in the café.

"Sounds like you're the one who needs to chill, Benson." Jonah says with a hint of laughter on his voice.

Freddie hears Sam snicker and glances over at her, "Alright then, I guess I'll see you on the courts." Freddie rises from the seats trying to make an exit before he can make a bigger fool out of himself.

"Yeah, I doubt it… but you keep on thinkin that, if it'll make you feel better." Jonah laughs and Freddie, not having the will to continue, heads towards the door.

Freddie checks his phone _11:30? Guess I'll go back to the house._ When he walks for the door he looks up from his phone and sees Carly and Gibby.

"Hey Freddie, I didn't know you were over here." Carly smiles. Usually it's infectious, however, at the moment it's just annoying.

"Yo Freddie," Gibby speaks, "Did you know that the same café is across the street? That's crazy right?"

"Yeah, it's pretty wild." Freddie tried to inject some life into his tone. He failed miserably.

"What's wrong, Freddie?" Carly voiced her concern.

"It's nothin' something came up and I gotta get back to the house. It was nice seeing you, Carly. See ya at the courts Gibby. See you guys later." Freddie makes his, hurried, exit before either Carly or Gibby could inquire into his problem.

Freddie hurried down the sidewalk. He wasn't too sure where he was going but he had to get away. Away from the café, away from him… away from her. He had to get out, "Hey Freddie, wait up." They just keep pulling him back in.

He turns around to see Gibby jogging up beside him. "Hey. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be spending your last hour of free time, before practice, with Carly?" He couldn't stop the venom that poured from his tone. He was trying to recreate himself and his image and this was a major step backwards.

"Whoa chill out man." Gibby raises his hands in caution, "I just came to see what has my friend so shaken. It's not good for the game." Freddie turns to continue walking as Gibby quickly falls into step with him.

"It's nothin'. I just have to get myself focused." Freddie, not too sure whether or not Gibby bought his story, increased his pace. They walked in a companionable silence until they came to the subway. Freddie looked at Gibby and said, "I'm going back to the house. You can go and hang with Carly if you want. I'll be fine." he boards the train and Gibby is still silently following.

having decided that he's been quiet for too long, Gibby decides to speak up, "I saw Jonah at the café." Gibby watched Freddie's shoulders briefly tense, "I wanted to let you sort this out on your own but Carly wouldn't hear of it. She shooed me out to check on you as soon as she saw him." Still hearing no reply from Freddie Gibby decides to press the issue further, "Look man, I know you don't like him because of what he did but…" Gibby never was one for subtlety

"And how do _you_ know about it?" Freddie no longer cares about how he sounds. The memory of it makes his skin crawl.

Gibby disregards Freddie's tone, "Carly told me about it a while ago." Gibby looks towards the tracks as they would wait for the subway. "Its messed up, what he did to her."

There is another long silence that lasts the duration of the train ride. They have to wait for a different train in order to reach their destination.

Freddie and Gibby take a seat on a bench and wait. Freddie decides to oblige his friend with an explanation, "It's not that he did it, more than it's that she's goin' out with him again."

"She is?"

"That's what she told me." Freddie shrugs, "She said she was here to see him."

"Man. That's rough." Freddie nods, "I mean, first Carly, and now Sam." Freddie, feeling this may go south, quirks an eyebrow in question.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that, in all of the time I've known you, you've seriously liked two girls… Carly and, now Sam."

"Why would you think…"

"Come on Freddie… I know a crush when I see one." Freddie is silent for a while. He has to figure out a way to play this off.

They see other trains come and go, but its not their train so they wait. The hustle of the subways gave Freddie time for a rebuttal. "Even if I was crushing on Sam… it wouldn't matter. That's where we're different Gib. Your crush is also crushing on you, despite your vehement denials."

"What, you think Sam would never like you? Are still beating that dead horse? Please, man… that's a tired old excuse and you know it."

"It's not what I think, it's what I know. While your crushing is crushing on you, my _crush_…" Freddie puts the word, crush, in finger quotes, "spends all of her time crushing me."

They look up and see the train that will take them back to Brooklyn. They stand up and move closer to the edge of the standing rail to be ready to get on. "Man whatever, you know that's how she says she likes you… I say go for it." Gibby would say while giving Freddie a pat on the back.

"If that means she likes a person then she must've been torn between the two of us in high school."

"Well, come on Freddie, everybody secretly likes me. It's part of my Gibby charm." Freddie would look at Gibby and laugh. "What? It's true!" Freddie continues to laugh at the absurdity of the statement and Gibby joins in as the train stops in front of him. "Whatever man. Look, I say just walk up to her and tell her what the deal is."

Freddie gives a breathless laugh at what Gibby was suggesting, "Subtlety's not your strong suit is it?"

"Come on, Freddie. Who're you talkin' to?"

They start to board the train when a familiar hand on their chests pushes them out.

"Hello boys!" Jerome, with his trademark smirk, comes out of the train and the rest of the team follows him out.

"Uh... Jerome! What are you doing here?" Freddie in sudden fear.

"On the way to the tournament, and you guys are right on time!" He exclaims as he gives them their bags. "We're gonna run to the next subway station." he looks at his watch. "Five minutes! lets go!" And so, The team would be in a sprint towards the next train station.

Gibby can't seem to get why they are sprinting if they have five minutes. So, he decides to ask. "Hey, how far away is the next station?"

"Uh, 2 miles away. So we gotta get movin'!" Jerome claps his hands and the team follows him out of the station, "Let's go people!"

All Freddie can think is, _He really is trying to kill us. The one time I need her craziness, and she's nowhere to be found. _

Well, he never had the best of luck.

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**A/N: well that is the next chapter and I hope you enjoyed props to KingxLeon21 for his proofreading and help on this and I hope you review and most of all pass the story on and if you have ideas pm me or review (i rather have review but private messaging is not bad either heh, heh) so Thanks and Stay Curious my friends.**

**"I am Hartful13 and i approve (most) of this message"**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Test: Part 2

20 minutes after catching the subway... Holcombe Rucker Park, Harlem, New York

Rucker Park, the mecca of Street Basketball, this place is what made Streetball into what it is today a show of quick reflexes, grand speed, and devastating power. It was what the 'Ruck' gave in the end, a show. Named after Holcombe L. Rucker the man who started the first known streetball tournaments in New York in 1947, it grew to massive proportions when Wilt Chamberlain; known to score one-hundred points in a game, made it into his own playground. Since then, street greats like, "Dr." Julius Erving, winner of the first ever slam dunk contest, as wel as Hall of Famer, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, have graced the courts of Rucker Park. This place has clout; here, the courts are more updated then the any of the other courts in all of New York. However, one thing has always remained the same. The green court concrete, which is notorious around the basketball world.

"So," Jerome would say after finally getting to their destination. They were outside of the court that they were supposed to play today, sitting on the fence that surrounds this very court. "So today is the start of Rucker Park's biggest tournament, the entertainers basketball classic. Its gonna be a crazy day. We are going to face some true college players, and maybe see..." He looks over to see what he should have expected, but hoped not to... "Morgan." He said darkly.

Jake Morgan walks in with the rest of his team, he's in his patented Aviator sunglasses, Light gray sport vest, which is open, a light blue shirt, and matching jeans. He was out looking like a mobster coming to work,

"Well, Jerome, interesting team you have here." He brings that trademark smirk, the same smirk that was in front of Jerome when he lost for the second time, in the state semis.

"Morgan, shouldn't you be at the kiddie pool in Syracuse?" Morgan was known to be second fiddle to Jerome in almost every aspect. Even when going to Syracuse. Morgan only received the scholarship because Jerome declined it. In everything Jake has always been the silver medal even when winning the gold. When Jake led his team to a state title last year, Jerome was still crowned the best player by New York Basketball Magazine, the authority in Basketball in this state.

"You really want to say that when your conference is the kiddie pool?"

"The Pac-10 is a power conference!"

"Because of Football! You know that Jerome, USC made that conference and basketball is the LAST thing they truly worry about, I mean the proof is in the last few years," Morgan for all of his arrogance was right to a point. The Pacific-10, in the last four years, has been weakening basketball wise, with a declining number of teams that have been making it to the tournament, let alone going very far. The only light showing of hope has been UCLA, who has made two straight final fours, but then even they couldn't make it last. Conference experts think it's a rebuilding stage, but others think it's something else.

"Aren't they adding more members next year?" Morgan says smirking.

"Yeah, so?" Jerome snarked.

"Colorado and Utah, aren't those guys strength in football as well?"

"Maybe..."

"The Fact is, your going to disappear in a Football Conference that also has basketball and I will be flourishing in one of the best conferences in all of college basketball." True, the power the Big East Conference has over the rest of College basketball is comparable to what the Roman Empire had on the rest of the world. It's not just the biggest conference in the nation, but the deepest, as they would break records on how many teams that would be in the tournament.

"Man they don't give a damn about you, you were sloppy seconds, remember?"

"Jerome, the fact is you could have any big time program in the country, and yet you went to Washington?" At this point they were dangerously close together and people on both ends were getting nervous...

"Okay guys, we are done here." Rudy finally came in-between them and things cooled down. Both turned around to walk back to their teams but Morgan turned back around.

"Oh and one more thing," Morgan said, Jerome just stopped not turning, "Diana and me had a VERY interesting night before she left, if you know what i mean." And yes, they had a interesting night, it was the night that she broke up with him. But Jerome didn't know that, and what Jerome didn't know was bound to hurt him, at least, Jake hoped so. Jake succeeded as that comment struck a nerve in the smaller guard and he came charging at Morgan. Luckily though, with Rudy right beside him he wasn't going to get very far.

"Let me at that idiot! I wanna whoop that ass so bad! I got you Morgan!" Jerome screamed while in being held back by Rudy dragging him back to his team. Jake was laughing heartily back towards his chuckling team also.

"Rome, you need to calm down, Diana was never yours to begin with and you know it." Rudy said after reaching their team.

"Rudy, Diana is one of our best friends and we went out remember?"

"But Rome," Rudy retorted, "Didn't you and Diana break up because of the rivalry you and Morgan had?"

"Yeah, Can we not talk about that please?"

"Okay," Rudy takes his fitted baseball cap off and rubs his head over in frustration and puts it back on "Look, we have 10 minutes okay, let's talk to our team."

"Yeah," Jerome looks back towards where Morgan was and he turned to leave. It destroyed him when he found that Diana didn't even go to their graduation and disappeared with only her parents saying she went to college. It was stunning that she just left but it was understandable, the last time he saw her, the rivalry just got to him. It was humbling.

"Let's go then," So they would walk towards his team and Jerome spoke first.

"Sorry about that. I almost made a mistake back there but now I am ready and focused. That is the main thing." Jerome pointed at every one, "and i would like to see the same for you guys, I know the work we pulled here today and its going to be worth it by the end of the day, believe me." Everyone shared a worried glance, it was nerve racking, what was about to go down today.

They have never faced talent this good before. It was so evident that even Freddie realized that. But, Jerome believes that they can pull off an upset. He was always a believer in bold calls.

His whole family was bold: from his Cousin Sean, to his girl Tameka, to himself, and other cousins. He knew that his people were bold people one way or another. It was family tradition. "Grab life by the horns," was the family saying. They lived life by that moniker proudly.

"Okay men, let's go to war!"

Upon hearing this Freddie's stomach sank to his feet.

The Players finally reach center court as the tip-off is about to begin. Jerome's team is wearing Red with white outline on the edges on the jerseys, while the opponent's team was wearing black and white out-line.

The notable player was a top Recruit from Upstate New York that will be going to St. Johns. Small Forward at 6'7 204 all muscle and impressive shooter. He's not as fast as he is strong. He's known for running people over to get to the basket and twice destroyed the glass on top of the rim in high school games. Rudy was on him.

Freddie, however, had a bigger issue. The Shooting guard that he was facing had to be 6'6 and a giant towering over Freddie's 5'9 frame. But what got to Freddie the most was the fact he was forced to start and face up to him... He was a top 20 recruit... In the nation.

The fateful conversation still rang in his ears.

_"Benson!" Jerome called out 10 minutes before the game started. Freddie was talking to Gibby about the game, he was so glad that he was not starting and Gibby had some impressive talent he had to man up against._

_"Be right back Gibby," Freddie said quickly and went over to where Jerome was sitting. Jerome patted on the ground to sit by him. Feeling nervous Freddie went to sit down anyway._

_Jerome was looking around towards everyone else except the guy that was sitting next to him and Freddie was feeling the tension and it just never led to good things when he can feel the tension._

_"Alright, I ma-" Jerome Stopped himself, "Okay, WILL regret this but we have no choice."_

_Freddie suddenly, eyes wide, felt like the oxygen had just left his lungs, "You're cutting me now c'mon man! I tried to work with ya but this is what I-"_

_Jerome interrupted with his hand to his face... "NO! That's not it Benson… it's actually the opposite." Jerome took a deep breath, "I need you to start." Freddie even now even wide, stared them towards Jerome, and in his mind is thinking that maybe it would have been better to be cut at this point._

_"Uhh..."_

_"Benson, we have no choice, the only other Guard is injured, too sick to play said something in the food got to him..." Freddie's eyes looked up in shock and was about to look back to Jerome and at the corner of his eye, he sees Gibby with his thumbs up. did he-_

_"So get ready cause you're starting and I hope luck onto us all..." Jerome said with a pat on Freddie's Shoulder. He stood up and went over to Rudy._

_Freddie couldn't believe the luck he had, don't know whether to be excited or to be scared for his life..._

_'No' he thought, 'Scared for my life sounds more sensible right now'  
__**  
**_Freddie comes to find out later that Sam told Gibby that it would be a good idea to put some concoction into the other player's food the night before, and now he is way too sick to play. Dude couldn't stay out of the bathroom all morning.

So the lineup looked like this for the game...

_**Starters**_

_**Jerome - PG**_

_**Freddie – SG**_

_**Gibby – SF**_

_**Rudy – PF**_

_**Steve Foster - C**_

_**Bench**_

_**James Morrison – C**_

_**Marcus Sanders – PG**_

_**Tim Gunderson – SF**_

_**Mike Jamison – PF**_

So, here he was, on the other side of this giant of a player and getting ready to get the tip-off of a big time tournament that Jerome forced them in. 

_Yay... _is all Freddie can think of as the blond headed demon was in front of him in the stands laughing at something that _nub..._

_Nub?_ Freddie thought, _Am I going to need to read another Sigmund Freud book… or I am Jealous... _

Then Sam turned to him and gave a sly smug smirk and a wink. That said it all, _ah I do love when things come together, YOU FAIL DORK!_

There is a moment when you know that you felt in the pit of your stomach that someone wass doing something more than what they were really doing.

This, was one of those moments...

"BENSON!"

Freddie was shaken out of his trance by a yell and a sudden pull of his jersey collar...

"Focus!" whispered-yelled Jerome who is face to face and has a hand on his collar and pulled back and to see the tip-off.

Freddie did his best to focus and looked at the ball that the referee has thrown up in the air and the two centers went for the ball...

There was a light crowd as the day was ending at Rucker Park and their court wasn't of much focus as other teams were playing games at the same time. However, Morgan's team was there, of course, and of all people, Jonah had to be on it. It sickened both Freddie and Jerome to see those guys in the stands. Morgan, with a huge smile through those Aviator glasses, lying back with his hands behind his head just loving the mess his rival's team was going through at this point. Freddie couldn't help but notice that Jonah was having a very animated conversation with his 'ene-friend' right now, that was more enemy than friend. Much, much more.

Freddie was outmatched in almost every way possible. It's on a new level, he couldn't take the physicality of street, Jerome put the team in a 2-3 zone, where there is your point and shooting guard at top and the bottom would be your Small Forward to your left and Power Forward to your Right, and the Center, your true big man in the middle. The team though, as much they tried to teach them what they knew as basketball the opponents, felt otherwise to make mismatches and it was working to a tee. Sometimes they would have the big man outside but they were fast and just easily got into the mid-range where they would double team and it left the guards open for wide open shots.

The offense was an even a bigger mess.

The guys couldn't get anything going, they would have a play set up and then the man-to-man defense the opposing team would play was so close onto each other they could barely move, they were fly paper and Jerome's team was the flies. They just got stuck. It either led to traveling which means moving without dribbling, or steals. And there were many of them.

The war inside was a more to Jerome's team because of Rudy's great athletic ability to grab the rebound, the way he was always there in the air felt like he was flying, kind of like Superman. Gibby was trying to hold his own, but he is learning that being all district in the city of Seattle is not the same being All-Americas and future NBA draft picks either.

So we go back to our hero, which at this point is playing like a zero, Freddie was feeling everything bearing down on him, from taking this position to the added pressure Gibby put him in (For positive reasons) and Sam (for her 'evil and demonic reasons...' quoted Freddie's mind.) Also, the fact the person Freddie has matched up with is too good for his own meager talents to keep up with.

Everett Smallings, Shooting guard that is, from the borough of Queens New York, 6'3 210 pounds, some call him a small forward with the size, but he prefers Shooting guard to frustrate the 'ants', as he would call whose who would match up with him. Because of his size, they underestimate how fast he truly is. Kid ran a 4.20 40 yard dash in track and field, he's pretty fast by University of South Carolina regards as they was the only team to pick him up as a shooting guard.

Freddie, though, wasn't worried about anything else but the fact that Smallings was all over him whenever he got the ball. As he came face to face after a tussle for the ball, Everett tried to take the ball from him. During the tussle Freddie looks over to Sam and Jonah. The smile on her face that was directed towards Jonah and how good they looked together in addition to the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about how those jeans hugged Sam ever so nicely, or the way her lips looked so luscious, like they were meant to be... kissed?

When he takes in the entire scene of Sam and Jonah's interaction his heart is torn to pieces.

But as he was indulging in his angst, Everett saw the opportunity, as the bigger match-up, to make his move. He tore the ball out of Freddie's hands, elbowed him in the head and made a sprint towards his basket with the ball. Freddie dropped like a lead balloon to the court as Jerome made a sprint to catch up to Everett. He was too late, as Smallings did a one handed slam dunk into the basket adding two more points to what was already a rout.

Freddie felt a throbbing headache all of a sudden and didn't have any idea why.

The game went downhill from there, if that was even possible, and ended 64-37 in favor of the opposition. The split in points was like this; 14 points by Rudy, 14 by Jerome and the rest of the team scored a total of nine points. It was an embarrassing showing all around and the worst part of all of this was that the night was just beginning.

Jerome was staring towards his team after this staggering defeat, he sees them sitting on the same fence all day in a line like a mash unit in the army; bruises all over their bodies, ice bags on their heads or eyes, the feeling that they were in a battle and Jerome chuckled to himself. Beofre the game started he boldly declared, 'okay men lets go to war!'. The accuracy of that statement struck his funny bone. As he kept chuckling he turned to see his pissed off best friend who was on the fence bearing down with his stare. The chuckling stopped immediately.

"Rome," Rudy said surprisingly calmly,

"Uh, Rudy?" Jerome looked at him with a brow cocked in curiosity.

"So, what did we learn today?"

"We learned that we need to give these guys a backbone!" He gestured to his team on the fence, "They played like wussies out there!"

"No," Rudy again with the calmness.

"We learned that we can look back and laugh at this?" Now thoroughly confused.

"No," Rudy came up from the fence staring at Jerome and was about to open his mouth and then another voice came into the fray.

"That the streets is way too different from a sanctioned basketball game."

Both looked around to see Sean of all people staring at them both with a smug smirk on his face.

"Boys." He came to them and leaned on the fence.

"Hey cousin," Jerome said nervously.

"Rome, you remember what you told me last night?"

"Uh," Jerome stumbling as he tried to feign confusion and denial. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Heartily chuckling, Sean is clearly enjoying this, _man I love when I am right _his thoughts conveyed. "Okay. Does 'let Caesar work his magic' ring any bells?"

Jerome knew he said it, but he will NOT be outdone by his cousin, "Nope not a single one."

"Okay then, but you can't see that you made a mistake?"

"I made a mistake alright," Jerome seethed getting tired of his cousin's meddling, "I made a mistake of talking to you the night before."

Sean cocked an eyebrow with a big smirk on his face. "You can't seem to understand that you play a different level to the other guys around you except Rudy talent wise," Sean then bowed his head and shook it slowly from left to right, "But, being a leader, well that's a different story."

Jerome stalked closer, almost face to face with Sean "What are you saying, cousin?" Then, for the second time today...

"He Says you are not the leader you think you are." Morgan in front of both of them and both rotated their heads as they were a gas station sign towards the rival.

"See," he saunters over towards both of them with a smug look on his face. "Your 'talent' is respected in this city, but your leadership, as has been proven SO well in high school," he took a moment to lightly chuckle, "Is in dire straits."

Jerome at this point felt like a slowing raging volcano ready to spew out all its lava on everyone on the path, with the way he was getting bombarded by questions of his leadership by his rival and cousin. "Morgan, do me a favor?" Jerome asked calmly "Could you stay the HELL out of this?" he would come out howling at the last part as he felt like he was going to lose it.  
Ever the peacemaker, Sean would not let that happen.

"Morgan," Sean insisted quietly, "Could you please walk away now?"

"I got ya Mr. Jackson I am gone, but one more thing to Jerome," Morgan took of his Aviator glasses, came to bore down on Jerome and whispered into Jerome's ear."I hope being the first pick in the SECOND round of the NBA Draft is nice as the first, because I don't think Diana would want a draft bust as a boyfriend you know?"

"Have a nice day Morgan!" Sean insisted hastily, he was getting tired of his antics at this point himself.

Morgan put his dark aviator glasses on and walked away.

"Look Jerome," Sean insisted after turning to him looking face to face. "Morgan AND Diana should be the last thing on your mind. Right now your priority should be thinking of a way to talk to your team. You want to show that you're a good leader, right? This is where you start."

He sighs with regret and slumps down in defeat. "Alright."

During Jerome's quarrel with Jake, Freddie was walking from the bathroom behind the stands which was almost empty, save for a few people who stayed back for one reason or another. It was the end of day one and Morgan made it past the first two rounds and was in quarters of this 12 team city tournament which started tomorrow afternoon.

Freddie watched them play and they were an aggressive bunch. Physical and disciplined. They stuck to their assignments like white on rice. Freddie was also amazed at the fact that they didn't seem to have plays. It was pure basketball, shooting, dribbling, and dunking. Freddie was keenly observant of how Jake led his team. He was the General and he almost flawlessly led his team to open spots and scoring opportunities.

But what impressed Freddie the most was Jonah. Jonah was lights out at one point, scoring ten unanswered points. And most of those shots were past the three point line on the court. His Speed was okay, but it was his strength and technical prowess that got to Freddie the most. He was stunned of how good he was on the court that day. As the game ended Freddie couldn't help but notice the disparity in his talent and Jonah's. He was on a very different level. One that Freddie wasn't sure he would be able to catch up with.

"You were Impressive today, Jonah." Sam's voice rung from above the bleachers as Freddie was walking, making him freeze on the spot. The logical side of Freddie screamed: _Eavesdropping can be a felony offense if taken by full state of the law, so I really suggest you to GET OUT OF THERE! _His other half, the impulsive lax side, was saying, _Might as well hear for a quick minute... _at that moment Logic was smashed like a nail by a sledgehammer, and he stayed and listened intently to the conversation of the people above.

"Thanks, when I left Seattle, I learned to play basketball as an after school deal in the gym of my high school."

"Well buddy you did an impressive job just shooting. I remember having a day like that once or twice." Silence... "Okay," Sam piped up. "more than a few times." Her and Jonah laughed at that.

"Well I heard you were a great player." Sam looked at him questioningly, "I heard from the women's team in our high school when they went across the state to face you guys. They said it was like you had two levels with your energy." He said.

"Well, momma's got game when she wants to. Wanted to show the kiddies at your school how to play some real basketball." She was smirking to the last part.

Jonah chuckled to that. "Somehow, i agree to that, but..." a laugh was bubbling in him "Did you see how bad Freddie's team was?"

"Goodness that was Lewbert's wart bad," and they were both laughing.

Freddie was feeling it, he should have known this would happen. He hung his head and prepared to leave, but Sam wasn't done yet.

"Look ,let me tell you something about a Mr. Fredward Benson," She said.

"Benson, is a weakling, how much he can pick up? a spec of dirt?" Freddie suddenly was gritting his teeth.

"He is worthless to the team, athletically retarded, he doesn't go after what he wants, I blame that crazy mother of his for that, he never truly worked for it besides him getting his nerd work done. He needs to get his hands dirty."

He felt like he couldn't take it anymore but the next thing somehow got him over the top.

"But most of all," Sam inquired, "He gives up so easily... He usually gives in to what I do to him I mean they only time he showed he had cartilage in those bones when he stood up to the bully when he was fencing, FENCING! I mean if that didn't have nerd all over it. But you would think it gave him confidence, but nah nothing as far as my eyes tell me. Now I think a bet will be won and I will just destroy his college rep and just sit back and enjoy the fireworks."

Even Jonah was stunned on Sam analytical remarks on Freddie, and as for Freddie he wasn't around to see the rest of it.

Freddie went to a nearby wall that was away from mostly every one and the feeling of everything she said just flown into his body, and it kept reverberating in his mind as if it was etched in stone... He turned and started to punch the wall as he repeated everything he heard from her in a soft but stern fury.

_"Weak," _Left hand.

_"Worthless," _Right.

_"Giving up with no Fight," _Left again and as he kept punching into the and blind with fury he felt his punches turned faster and faster and he could have kept going but he felt a hand on his arm and then he sees what he really has done.

Rudy was walking out of the bathroom going back towards his team and he sees Freddie, he look of raw fury, hatred seeping out of his pores. His head towards a wall punching the wall with his BARE hands. He runs sprints to him.

"Yo, dude you ok?" He puts his hand on his Then he sees the wall, and realizes he should be asking that to the wall, the hole in it was as big if not a little bigger than the man who just literally bore into it like a manual Jackhammer. But a bigger problem arose when he looks at his hand, as blood has made a canvas all over both of his hands.

That's when Freddie finally realized the extent of his injuries and let a ear-splitting scream throughout the whole park.

20 minutes, some ice and A LOT of water later Freddie, his bandaged hands and Rudy was sitting on the sidewalk outside of a corner store across the street from Rucker Park. In his mind Rudy couldn't stop thinking about the hole that he seen on that concrete wall. He'd never seen a hole as big as that before that was made by human hands. He had to ask why.

"Ok so why is there a hole as big as your hand on a wall?" Rudy asked.

"Words," Freddie whispered, blankly staring out towards nothingness.

"Words? didn't your momma tell ya 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me?'" Rudy said trying to

"Didn't get the memo," Freddie said flatly.

Silence came upon them. They were both staring out towards the Park for no particular reason. Then, after a few minutes Freddie was the one who spoke up, and broke the silence.

"I know I am not a good player, or athletically talented..."

"Whoa kid, it's not about that," Rudy said to him. "It's about knowing your game and what you can do for your team, we all had a rough game out there. You weren't the only one and you had some good assists, and-"

"Can you please let me finish?" Freddie suddenly puts a frigid stare towards Rudy that gave the man goosebumps.

"Yea, sure"

"I know that this week has been hell for me in more ways than one. I never felt any more embarrassed in my life as this week went on and I was about to go down quietly, but some words were said that have convinced me otherwise... If there's one thing us northwest kids are, is stubborn. Think you can help me?" He looks over to Rudy and he doesn't have anger, nor fear in his eyes anymore, Rudy senses ambition and determination in those eyes.

"Look," Rudy said. "You can get help from your friend Gibby, and if you get on the team through walk-on tryouts, I will help you as much as possible, deal...?"

"Yea," and they shook on it.

Freddie continues to look out of his Airplane window as the plane goes back to Seattle the next day. He learned a lot about himself through this trip and found out a lot about who people really are. He now needs to get on this team more than ever, to him, it started as a bet.

"It's so much more now," he spoke to himself as he sees Seattle in his sights. He has two weeks till the walk-on tryouts for the team.

He has work to do.  
**  
A/N: I am gonna end this chapter here for now I hope your enjoying this and I can't wait to hear from ya so please keep reading and hopefully reviewing . But thanks for all your reviews and favorites and alerts. I appreciate them all**.


	9. Walk On Tryouts Part 1

Sam was laying in the hotel bed after what transpired with the tournament. The things that she said earlier, about Freddie, were still resounding in her mind. She wears a blank expression but her mind cluttered with thoughts. The cold, callous, words that echoed out of her mouth, were words that she never would have uttered out to anyone to be honest, but it didn't mean she was apologetic. She meant every single word she said, and despite how evil it sounded, that is what she really thought of Fredward Benson.

To her he was her pawn… and she loved it. Everything, from: her making fun of his "love" for Carly, to the total number of jokes and embarrasing assaults in front of all of Ridgeway. It's what made her years at Ridgeway fun. She reveled in it, she was proud of what she could do to people mentally. To be honest, after the fiasco at the All-American Game that forced her to take the Volleyball Scholarship after she received no offers for basketball, she felt, especially, miserable. And like the saying goes; 'Misery Loves Company.'

She was still deep in the depths of her mind when Carly opened the door and closed it behind her. That shook her out of her thoughts. A sudden tense draft overwhelmed the entire room.

"Hello." Carly said with a deadly tone staring straight at Sam.

"Hey, Mrs. Gibson…" Sam said, still staring up at the ceiling, "… how was hanging with Mr. Gibson?"

"Fine," Carly's face turned a light shade of red, "I had a VERY interesting conversation with Gibby."

"Uh, Really?"

"Yes, Really! Why would you do that to Freddie!"

"Well it's true what I said about Fredwina he is, to sum it up, a hundred and forty-five pounds of pure fail!"

Carly, then, dropped her jaw, "Sam! I was _talking_ about poisoning that player to force Freddie to have to play an-" Then she thought more about what Sam just said. "Sam… what else did you say… and to whom?"

"Well," Sam dragged. "I may have said some words to Jonah about the nub."

"What words?"

"Are you serious!" Carly was shocked at the things Sam was saying. She never would have believed it, coming from any other mouth, the things Sam Puckett have said about Freddie. No matter what she has done to him she would think she was messing around, but to hear what she said about Freddie was stunning her.

"I am not apologizing, at all, for what I said, Carly. You and, especially, me know how much of a loser Fredweird is!"

"Look, ok, so: Freddie is really smart, and he has a huge Galaxy Wars collection, and is our Tech Producer, and President of the A/V Club. It doesn't always mean he's a loser! Remember Shane?"

"Well," Sam says a little taken aback. She was sort or surprised at first and then she thought, _Its Carly, she would find the nice in Hobos even_, "Look Carlotta, Shane," She puts her left hand up, "Way hot! while Fredward…" her right hand touches past the bed and nearing the floor. "Just plain... NOT!"

"Look, I know you Sam. You CAN'T mean the things you said to Jonah. You obviously forgot he was the only one to believe you about that chizzbag Missy at the time?"

"Well," Sam said defiantly "I was very," Sam, then, puts her balled up fist up near her chin and added a sly smirk. "Persuasive."

If, by persuasive, you mean, begging Freddie at a huge time of need, during the worst time of her life… then yeah, she was _very_ persuasive. It was impressive, even for her, the act she was putting on for Carly. To be exact, she was grateful beyond belief, and was glad of what he pulled off to truly put Missy away. But her defiant denial doesn't want that to be known... by anyone…

Ever.

"Well, Sam, you have to know that he is more than that as he, SAVED MY LIFE!"

"Pssh! Puh-lease! It was a simple taco truck, you could have took it head on."

Carly, still standing, put her hand to her head in frustration, "Sam, you can't be serious..."

"Look, you know that in the end those short bouts of super-human strength was what it was… short! Now, if you want to join the wagon of Benilevers go, right on, ahead..."

"C'mon Sam, 'Benilevers'?"

"What? making new words makes me sound smarter." she gave her statemnt a quick thought, "I mean, just, looks good smart not 'nerdy' smart."

"Yea, whatever Sam." Carly sits on the bed, beside a laying down Sam, and stares straight at her. "I just hope nobody close to Freddie, heard what you said," Carly pauses for emphasis, more than anything else, "or Freddie himself for that matter."

"Well, if they did so what, maybe he will gain some cartilage, and proves me wrong." Sam finally sits up and just leers into Carly's soul. "And until that happens, I will always believe that Fredward Benson is nothing but a: weak, nerdy, foolish, dork!" Sam sat back with a confident smirk on her face, "Carls I think today has shown how Fredwina Benson REALLY is, and this bet" She puts her hands behind her head, "Is mine to lose..."

But what she couldn't shake out of her mind was: _What if someone heard and told Freddie? What would happen?_ But that thought was light in the back of her mind, as she was visualizing Freddie in that infamous Steven Q. Urkel outfit in front of the University of Washington crowd, and a large smirk played across her face.

Late July - The practice court of The Hec Edmundson Pavilion

Jerome and Rudy decided to get In a game of one on one before tryouts started.

Jerome took the ball at the top of the key. He maintains a steady dribble as he looks Rudy in his eye. He feigns a move to his left but Rudy isn't fooled. Jerome resets himself and calculates his next move. Rudy reaches to steal the ball. Jerome spins and charges to the basket. Thanks to his long stride, Rudy is able to recover. Jerome finds himself in front of the power forward. He lets his instinct take over and he switches hands. He backs up as if he's going to reset. Rudy takes the bait and eases up. Jerome takes his opportunity to try to blow by his opponent. Rudy is taken off guard by the action but quickly springs towards the basket. Jerome stops and lifts to shoot rather than drive to the basket. Rudy leaps and gets a finger on the ball just before it flies out of his reach. The ball hangs in the air.

A lot of good can be, and has been, said about Jerome, but one thing he couldn't do was out rebound Rudy. Rudy comes down with the ball and takes it back outside of the three point line. "You're gonna have to do better than that Rome." He would say with a smirk. "Especially if we're gonna make a splash in the tournament this year." Rudy drives to the basket.

Jerome backpedals to stay in defensive position. "What do you mean _if_?" Jerome would say as he took a halfhearted swipe at the ball. "This is the Pac 10. Our only competition is UCLA." He moves to press Rudy, to try and force a mistake.

Rudy backs off, "I'm well aware of the competition, but don't sleep on Cal. They're returning a lot of players and plus they have the guy from San Jose, James Abernathy." Rudy starts to back Jerome towards the basket.

Jerome extends a hand to keep Rudy from getting too close. "Yeah I'm well aware of him… but he could turn out to be a wash." While Jerome is talking, Rudy spins to his left and Jerome manages to knock the ball away.

It goes out of bounds and Jerome goes to retrieve it. Rudy heads to the three point line. "It's possible, but let's be real about it. There's very little chance of that actually being the case. He received scholarship offers from Kentucky, Florida, UConn, and the rest of the Pac 10." Rudy says as Jerome passes him the ball. He waits for Jerome to get reset, "The only difference between you and him is that he's in Cal while you're at Washington." They check the ball and resume their game.

"Man, whateva, I saw him play. I'd run him up and down the court." Jerome remarked, as Rudy backed him towards the basket.

Rudy releases a chuckle, "I'm sure he says the same thing." Rudy fakes a spin to the right, then pivots on his left foot to spin to his left. He rises and releases the ball. Jerome doesn't have a chance to block it. He watches the ball sail into the basket.

Rudy pumps his fist and goes to retrieve the ball. "Please. I'll mop the floor with 'im." Jerome says as he takes his place at the top of the key. "By the time I finish with him…" Rudy passes him the ball and they check, "…He'll be calling me the janitor." Rudy stares at Jerome with a blank look on his face. Jerome takes his opening to shoot the ball.

Jerome releases a chuckle as he runs past Rudy to retrieve the ball. As Rudy catches the ball he continues to stare at Jerome. Finally he forces his mouth to move, "You are so lame." Rudy remembers the original topic of conversation, "Anyway, I hear Oregon is slated to make a comeback." Rudy backs down Jerome once again. This time he spins to right and rushes towards the basket. Before Jerome can recover, Rudy is already in the air sailing towards the basket with ball in hand. He throws down a slam dunk and hangs on the rim for good measure.

Jerome walks to the three point line, "You only hear that because of Oregon's newest gimmick." Jerome catches Rudy's pass, "How're you gonna try to psyche out another team with floorboards? It looks cool and all, but come on man, let's get serious."

Rudy checks and surprises Jerome with a long shot of his own, sprinting to the basket after he lands from his jump shot. As he predicted, his shot doesn't go down. Jerome snatches the rebound before Rudy gets to the ball.

"Yea, but the main focus is about the team that we play for..." Rudy says as he went in defensive stance ready to take anything from Jerome.

"Well I like the Gibson guy, high energy, now if he would only keep his shirt on..." Jerome eyes Rudy and goes to a stance that has him ready for his next move, ball gripped two hand solid and away from player.

"Yea, I know. But we have some alright players her already Coach Lo' knows what he is doing for the most part." Rudy decides to rush in and attempts to make the steal.

"I know man, and we have a Strong Backcourt Seward and I scoring like mad men, but I trust that this season things can happen..." But Jerome takes advantage and with a burst of speed slides past him, and instead of a layup he would stop form up and make that patented quick release. Ball goes in all net.

"I don't know about that, we are pretty young overall, but we will see." Rudy just shakes his head on how quick witted Jerome is, He has learned from his cousin well, he thought.

"Well at least your girl troubles hasn't gotten to your game," Rudy turns around after saying the first parts and mumbles "Yet,"

"Henderson?" Jerome turns quickly and meets Rudy eye to eye, " I heard that..."

As Jerome was gonna deny that he has any, the practice gym door opens, and nervous looking Fredward Benson comes walking in with an eager looking Gibby next to him.


	10. Walk On Tryouts Part 2

Outside of the Hec Edmundson Arena Just a few minutes earlier...

"This place felt smaller when me and mom walked through for the On-Campus tour, Gibby." Freddie felt like Hyperventilating, his mind filled with a number of disconcerting thoughts.

For one thing, it's about one hundred degrees in Seattle in the middle of July, and its only 11 in the morning. He can't seem to figure out why he decided to wear a jersey without an undershirt, he hates the feel of sweat. It just makes him feel... Yucky. And, perhaps being the biggest distraction of them all, Samantha Puckett hadn't spoken to him at all in the weeks leading up to this. He hasn't received a single phone call from her, not even a text. He wouldn't be as worried if this was the day she went off to Volleyball Camp somewhere up in the northern area of Washington.

_Nope. That's tomorrow. _

After a week of not hearing from her, his paranoia had reached an all time high. If he wasn't thinking about basketball, or trying to prepare for his upcoming freshman year in college, he'd be trying to figure out what Sam's next move would be. When he would see Carly alone or with Gibby at the Groovy Smoothie, with Sam was nowhere to be found, he'd immediately become suspicious. He would be worried about Sam, on occasion, but then, before they would leave Carly would order a Blueberry Blitz to go for Sam. Still, he'd heard nothing from her until the night before his tryouts. He received a lone text from the Blonde Headed Demon.

All it said was... "gl"

Two letters.

You see, had anyone else sent those two letters, he would know that it meant good luck. However, with his paranoia running amuck, combined with the nerves of what lies ahead for him has his mind humming with all kinds of possibilities. Was it, really, 'Good luck'… or could it mean 'Go Loser'… or even 'goat licker'? No, that's a little extreme… even for Sam… right? She had called him worse names… right?

His thoughts were running at a pace of a mile a minute. _Pull it together Freddie._

His thoughts needed to be focused, solely, on the matter at hand. This is a huge part of his development into the player he wants to be… the _person_ that he wants to be, and towards winning this God forsaken bet. He will have to try his hardest, and be at his best, or it will be the end of him.

"Look Freddie, we prepared for this day for so long. You must know that you can do this." Gibby has been there for him throughout this entire ordeal, since coming back from New York.

It also helped Gibby as he was about to get into Training Camp with the coaches. This was becoming very real for the both of them. Even Gibby was a little unnerved as the day of training camp drew near. Camp would start two days after tryouts.

"You don't understand Gibby," Freddie said feeling the quiver in his voice. "I don't think I can do this." He was about to turn around to run back to his dorm, but Gibby took him by the collar and dragged him to the entrance of the arena.

"Dude! You see this!" Gibby pulled up his shirt and the color red was embedded in his skin. "This is over two weeks of runs and practice. This is the result of me getting you ready and showing you what try-outs are going to be like… all… for… you!" Gibby punctuated the end of his sentence by poking Freddie in the chest.

Freddie countered "But you should have put a shirt on you knew it was gonna be 100 degrees all week..."

"I DON'T DO SHIRTS! IM GIBBY!" He retorted and pushed Freddie through the arena entrance, following behind him.

"Gibby, understand this, I can't thank you enough for your help this week. For real. Do you know what I have been through this week?"

"Freddie," Gibby took a breath. "You understand that Sam ignoring you isn't some kinda mind game. You know that she is what she is."

"No, you see, that's where she has you all fooled. To _you_ she just looks like your average troublemaker, but What she _truly_ is, is a egotistical psychopath that I can't seem to get out of my mind, even when she is _not_ around!"

"Sounds to me like you like her, dude" Gibby puts up a ghost of a smirk.

"HA!" Freddie says as he walks away towards the Arena's entrance and Gibby grabs him by the collar and reigns him back in.

"Look dude YOU are going to try-outs and you're gonna work your butt off like you've been doing the past few weeks! You want to win this bet don't you?"

"Yes, I do. But..." Gibby had received all of the confirmation he needed. He grabbed Freddie by the collar once more and proceeded to drag him to the practice court.

As a Game of twenty-one was in progress on the practice courts, the doors flew open with a loud bang. Rudy and Jerome look up towards the sound and watch as Gibby drags Freddie through the doors.

Rudy holds the ball and gestures towards the door with a slight chuckle, "Hey, check that out."

Jerome gives a quick nod as they observe Freddie yelling something that is unintelligible and it almost seems like he's… Crying? Gibby gives a quick smile and wave and looks towards the doors towards the locker rooms. The doors open and close. Gibby yells to Freddie from the other side of the doors, "AW, MAN UP!" Gibby storms through the doors to retrieve Freddie.

Jerome and Rudy look at each other and back towards the double doors that Gibby and Freddie went through. "Remember those days?" Rudy commented.

"Yep" Jerome agrees.

They suddenly burst out laughing. "NOOBS!" they both say and go back to finish the game.

* * *

It was fifteen minutes later and Gibby and Freddie were standing outside of the visiting locker rooms Freddie in his purple basketball jersey and shorts. He has black and white Air Jordan sneakers. They had ten minutes to kill before practice started. The terror was apparent in Freddie's eyes. This was it for him. A month and a half of practice and pain and humiliation all comes down to this. It was obvious what was ahead. And yet…

He still didn't know if he wanted to do this.

"I need you to snap out of it. NOW!" Gibby yelled into his right ear giving Freddie's mind the jump he needed to get out of his negative thoughts.

"Sorry," Freddie mumbled.

"This is it, you should go out there and get some time to shoot around, I already helped you with stretching and all that. So..." Said Gibby.

_It's so good to have a friend like Gibby. _Freddie thought. _He's been around from the beginning and it felt like he is the brother I never had. I am so lucky to have a great friend that will be there for me no matter..._

"So I wish you luck and see you later at the Groovy Smoothie, buddy" Those words came so rapidly to Freddie's ears he felt like he was shot.

"Wait! Where your going man?" Freddie asked.

"Important business… tried to get out of it but couldn't… but you don't need me! You will be fine man… remember, no matter what, I believe in you dude!" And gone Gibby was as he walked quickly towards the same double doors

_Shirtless turncoat bastard._ Freddie, now, found himself alone. He's standing outside of the visitor's locker rooms... This was going to be a very long day...

* * *

Freddie looked around at the number of people who had gathered in the gym. He counted fourteen others. He silently wondered to himself how many open spots there were. These thoughts were dismissed. It didn't matter how many were open; all that mattered was that he got one of them.

Freddie had been in the gym for around ten minutes, and was currently in the midst of a shoot around. While waiting for the ball he noticed the gym doors open and close and observed three men enter the room in what appeared to be matching tracksuits, Freddie assumed them to be the coaches. He watched as the three made their way to center court. The other students in the gym took notice as well and the dribbling stopped leaving behind an eerie silence that only seemed to highlight the coaches' walk through the gym.

Freddie made his own observations of the three newcomers. One was a tall man who wore a whistle around his neck. Another man, whom also wore a whistle, also carried a clipboard. Freddie also took notice of the third guy. He seemed to be younger than the other two, yet, he also carried a clipboard. Freddie noticed, however, that he was devoid of a whistle. Before Freddie could ponder the third person any further a whistle sounded and his attention was drawn to the tall man who was now at center court.

"Alright! Everyone who's here for tryouts, move to the far end of the court, and form two lines! Everyone else leave!" at the end of the proclamation, The sounds of the basketballs hitting the hard wood could be heard and Freddie spun around to watch as the players ran to the end of the court where they were instructed. Freddie tried to hustle to the other side.

Freddie, however, was too late and ended up at the head of the line. Before he had a chance to bemoan his awful luck, the tall man started talking again in a booming voice, "Gentlemen, welcome!" The man surveyed the two lines, "These are the tryouts for the, University of Washington Huskies, Men's Basketball team!" He turned to his left, "This is coach Daniels! He's your assistant coach!" He turned to his right, "and This is Coach Haskins... and while he is a student... you will address him as if he were a part of the staff!" he turned once again to face the kids who were lined up at the base line, "And I am your head coach: Coach Romar! Are there any questions!"

Freddie had a multitude of questions but before he could raise his hand, coach Romar continued talking, "Good! Now, we are going to start with lay-up drills!"

"What's a lay-up?" The squeaky voice came from a skinny kid who was at the back of the line to Freddie's right.

Coach Romar quickly tried to mask his exasperation at the question. "A lay-up is the most basic shot in basketball! I'll have Coach Haskins demonstrate!" The man to the coach's right placed his clipboard on the floor and jogged to the opposite end of the basketball court and kicked a number of the basketballs off to the side. When there was one basketball remaining, he picked it up and walked to center court while dribbling the ball. Upon reaching center court he stopped and rested the ball between his hip and his forearm.

Coach Romar turned to face the prospective players and continued. "You start by dribbling the ball up the court on either side of the goal!" Coach Haskins started to demonstrate as coach Romar started talking, "Once you're directly under the goal you'll jump off with the foot which corresponds with which side of the goal you are on, while the ball will should be in the hand which is opposite of the side of the goal which you are on. Once you are in the air you'll bank the basketball off of the backboard and into the basket!"

Freddie was absolutely flabbergasted. He couldn't even begin to process the information that he was given. Was this really the most basic shot in all of basketball? If these were the basics, then what would it be like when they reached the hard stuff? It wasn't until now that he had started to really think that he may have been in over his head.

Why… Why did he ever make that stupid bet in the first place?

His head shaking palms sweating mumbles of "Why" in under his breath and those questions was embedded in his mind...

_Why would Gibby leave me alone like this... _

_Why didn't we go over this in practice... or did we? _

_Why does Sam always seem to invade my mind__._

_Why did she have to do it this week… _

_Why was she able to do it… even when she WASN'T there! _

_WHY? WHY? WHY? WH... _

And before he could even think another 'why' the basketball suddenly dropped in his clammy hands...

It was go time.

He made a sprint out towards the basket dribbling the ball quickly in his right hand.

Running down the court, with the ball still dribbling in his hand he stares intently at the hoop with one thought running through his head...

_What I am supposed to do next? _

His breathing is shallow. Confusion is ingrained in his eyes as they dart left and right. He struggles to think of what to do next. His shallow breathing increases to hyperventilating. He's never felt more confused and unnerved in his life...

But he knows that he has to, at least, _look_ like he knows what he is doing. So when he is at, what he hoped was, the launching point; just past the free throw line, instead of planting his left foot and and launching towards the basket to go for the lay-up...

He switches the ball to his left hand, plants his right foot, and fires a hook shot that...

_THUMP!_

Hits the backboard.

The ball bounces off of the backboard right back at him. He catches it and decides to go towards the right. Freddie performs an underhand motion with the ball and it hits the under the right side of the rim... he picks it up takes a quick jumper and watches as it goes in through the hoop... He retrieves the ball, dribbles back to the other end of the court, and passes towards the next player in line as he reaches the starting line of the drill...

Freddie, with a face that was beet-red with embarrassment, sees almost every person in the room holding back their laugher, or, even worse, just staring at him. His only friend seems to be the floor as he continues staring at it throughout the rest of the drill...

Things are _**NOT **_going as planned. It's just been one failed drill after another.

There was the passing drill, where he could seem to pass to everyone and everything: the wall that is behind the player in front of him, the coach that is beside the other players, the other player's shoes, knees, and face… he made every pass except the one he was supposed to be making.

The shooting drill didn't go as bad. He was doing well with the close and mid-ranged shots. He even made some 3 pointers. However, when he missed...

_THUMP! The ball goes to the backstop... _

_THUMP! The ball ends up in the bleachers... _

_THUMP! The ball ends up ricocheting off of the back of a players head as he was doing Free Throw drills... _

He couldn't feel any worse. He was glad that the floor didn't have eyes because that is the only thing he's been looking at throughout these tryouts...

The only thing he could feel, somewhat, good about was completing suicides; sprinting short to long distances across the practice courts. However, by the end, he could barely stand and he knew there was more to come...

After another thirty minutes of drills Freddie hears the whistle, for break time, Freddie is sitting on the wall drinking Sporterade by the cooler. He couldn't believe how much of his body felt like was on fire. He doesn't even know if he can get up. He face couldn't be any redder and his muscles feel so heavy that they'd, basically, become deadweight. He'd just regained his breath from the last drill he had to do.

As he lifts his cup to sip on the cold concoction of electrolytes, he sees Jerome right in front of him staring intently.

_I'm surprised he didn't laugh at me... _Freddie thinks, but then he remembers that the day is not over... _Yet. _

But he knows what he lost grasp of, his micro chances of making this team were, if not gone, fading in the wind. His mind wasn't in it. It never was. Not at the beginning of practice. Not the night before. Not at the start of the week. It was then that he realized.

_She did this to me. By giving me that message__,__ she knew that I would think about the subliminal message that laid beneath the text. She knew how much I would think about it, and how everything that she's done (or hasn't in her case) would just take over my mind. She knew how to screw with my head in any way shape and form... _

"THAT INCARNATION OF SATAN!"

The whole gym stopped and looked at him in stunned silence as they heard Freddie's voice boomed throughout the indoor court.

All Freddie could do was groan and put bury his face in his hands. The sun couldn't match the heat radiating in Freddie's cheeks at that point.

* * *

The remainder of practice went as you'd expect. He fell down… a lot. He missed passes… a lot. He dropped the ball… a lot.

He'd embarrassed himself more today than Sam ever had in high school. And he did a better job of it.

At the sound of the whistle the students lined up again. They brief silence before Coach Romar spoke seemed to last an eternity.

Finally his voice was heard as It boomed throughout the gym. "Ok! That'll do for today! I'll post a list in the gym for those of you who made the first cut some time tomorrow! Thanks to all of you who tried out. If you made the cut, I'll see you on Wednesday. If you didn't make it, you can always try again next year!"

With those words the three coaches turned to leave the gym. The other students started to talk amongst themselves. Freddie just wanted to leave that place as quickly as possible. He went to the locker room and packed his gym bag and sent a text to Gibby saying that he would skip the Groovy Smoothie today.

After this hectic day he just wanted to go to his room and be alone… or dead… at this point he didn't care which. It was 7 o'clock in the afternoon. When he reached his room his phone vibrated.

He looked at the display and saw that the message was from Sam. _Yeah right._ He pressed end and placed his phone on the nightstand next to his bed. About ten minutes later his phone vibrated again. He checked it again and saw that it was Sam… again.

_Why's she so chatty now?_

He shook his head and pushed his phone to the floor. It vibrated again five minutes later. He releases a frustrated groan and gives his phone one last look.

It's Sam… again. _Can't I just one day? She's already accomplished her goal? What more could she possibly want?_

He yanks his bed sheets and comforters off of his bed and proceeds to bury the vibrating phone under them.

_You've won, Puckett. _He lays on his bed and turns his back to the phone. Not even looking back when he hears the soft buzz of his vibrating phone. _I'm done._

He finally drifted off to a restless sleep, dreading the inevitable day, when he'd be forced to face Samantha Puckett again.

* * *

**Author's Note: Man Sorry for the long wait but I hope you guys enjoy this chapter of IWBSM, in the Next week Chapter 11 should come out in light of the NCAA Mens Final Four in Houston! GO VCU! So you guys enjoy this and i hope you Read and Review. Thank you.**

**P.S. Stay reading my friends.  
**


	11. The Blame Game

_That same night, across town..._

Jerome was coming in from training, and watching the walk-on's try out for the team. His eyes were bloodshot and his shoulders sagging. He was exhausted. What would usually be a boys night out with the others, wound up just being a night alone. As he dropped down to the couch that resides in the small living room of the apartment that he shared with Rudy, he sat looking out towards the Seattle skyline.

He was immersed in his thoughts. So much so, that he was still running on autopilot when he decided to open his laptop. He went to his media player and clicked on "Avril the 14th" by Aphex Twin. He began to click around his desktop, going through all of his old files. He found a number of Word documents, containing various papers and personal writings. He continues to click around and go through more files, unsure of what he's actually looking for. As he continues to click around, he finds a folder marked memories. He knows that he shouldn't click on this one but, something inside of him is compels him to do just that. He is presented with all of the memories of him and Diana.

He found old pictures from his high school basketball courts, after Jerome's basketball games. He looked at others that were taken after her games. Both of them smiling brightly and even being a little silly sometimes. There were pictures from trips the school would have them take. As well as pictures from times when she would accompany him on family trips of his.

_They were good times indeed. _He thought with a sigh.

He tried to scan over each of these pictures pretty quickly. For the most part, he succeeded; to some degree, but there was one special picture that stopped him.

He stared at the picture of Diana. She was about to eat one of the dishes that he had helped her make. He remembered that it was a Tuscan dish called; Arista Alla Florentina, a roast pork dish. Most would look at the picture and just see another photo of a pretty girl. But it was much more to Jerome. It was a photograph of the past that he could never forget. It was a picture of what he once thought would be and what he still hoped could be. It wasn't just another night with his girlfriend like many would perceive it to be. This was the night that Jerome knew he was in love.

* * *

_June 4__th__, 2009; Brooklyn Terrace Apartments _

_It was a balmy, June, night in Brooklyn. Which, usually indicates that the Summer is creeping closer. In addition to the heat, he was running late. With the Elevator out, he was forced to take the stairs and Diana was expecting him over thirty minutes ago. Luckily, he was wearing a dark blue, button down shirt so the sweat didn't show as much. He took off his blazer and held it in one hand. In his other hand he had the ingredients that Diana told him to bring so that they could make tonight's dish. He didn't seem to have any sweat on his khakis at all. _

_He made it to Diana's apartment, 5B, and he can hear the RJD2 Mix blasting through her door that he made for her. The mix had everything from: his early work the "Your Face or Your Kneecaps" Mix CD, to his last album to date, "The Third Hand". He gave himself a once over. Satisfied with his appearance, he knocked on her door. _

_He heard Diana's voice ring through, "Its open!" He walked in and made his way to the kitchen in the back room. _

_"Ciao piccola Italia!" Jerome yelled over the music. _

_Her wavy long brunette hair whips as she turns her head to stare at him with a bright smile. "Finally, you understand its 'Italia' not 'Italiano' " She said as she turns back to her Roast Pork, she turns down the music a little so they can use their inside voices. _

_They have been the closest of friends since they were in the seventh grade. He rounded a corner and ran into her 5'9 frame. He had stayed by her side ever since. Even when puberty hit him and he reached high school at a height of 6'2, and the girls started to come on to him, he decided to just be with her instead. As hard as the girls tried, it was always Diana Cassano whom he would have the most fun with. He didn't want to lose that. _

_"Well you could have been more understanding on the topic, you know?"_

_"Are you serious?" Diana retorted not turning around. "You are looking at a proud Italian American that ended up spending an entire Saturday afternoon with you, learning AND teaching you the language." _

_"You know… I am getting better with it. Maybe it will catch up with my game. When that time comes, then you should be worried, D'." _

_"Bastardo arrogante." she breathed with a smirk._

_It had started out as just something to do. Diana wanted to learn Italian to 'be a bigger part of her heritage'. Jerome, being the tagalong that he was decided to learn it as well. At first they used it as code for pick-up games in the local parks. They'd always make quite a haul off of the suckers they'd find. Eventually, though, it turned into something special. Eventually, it turned into their thing._

_"Oh really?" he slid up behind her and took her by the hips and lay his head on her shoulder as he watched her cook. "Is that what you really think of me?" _

_Diana's smirk never left her face, "Tell me, what you think of me, __se mi conosci così bene__?" _

_The confusion on his face just showed how perplexed he was. "You suck. You know that?" but the Smirk was too playful to go through the whispered fib. _

_"Please, I bet what you're really thinking of is how much you want to kiss me."_

_"__What if__," He started kissing her right shoulder, "you're," then her left, "Right?" _

_She turns her head, and stares at him and the room turns deftly silent, except for the mix that is still playing _

_"__Un modo per scoprire,__" she whispered. So, he leaned in, and got closer. Diana began to close her eyes. With his eye on the prize and so close to claim... _

_CRASH! _

_They jumped apart to see that a pile of pans had fallen over from the countertop on the other side of the small kitchen. "Uh… Let me pick it up." Jerome uttered silently, once he noticed both of their red faces, He went to pick up the pans that were on the floor and she went back to tending to the roast pork. _

_After that was done she went to back to the authoritarian side she usually displayed. "You get the stuff I asked you about?" She asks. _

_"__Sì, l'ho fatso__" he replies, then he pulled out a small box of garlic cloves and put it on the counter near to her. _

_"Not bad, but its 'fatto'," she corrected. She then proceeded to start giving out orders. "Now I can start dicing the Rosemary and mince the Garlic, you look after the roast pork." _

_They switched sides and started on working on the rest of the dish. As he tended to the pork that was on the skillet, he glanced over to see her mince and dice. It amazed him every time he saw her work. It was crazy to see her cut with such precision and accuracy as she quickly started dicing the garlic. She did it like a pro. It had been like this for over a few years since she cooked for him the first time. He had wanted to learn ever since. He looked up to her eyes and saw how focused she was. _

_He became bored watching the pork rather quickly. He wondered who taught her how to cook. Whoever it was, he was sure that they got a great student when they got Diana. She always was a fast learner. He was impressed at how quickly she caught on to things. Even on the courts, when he taught her how to play basketball, she picked it up really fast. She, eventually, turned into a top prospect at Small Forward, Shooting Guard, and Point Guard. She was working on a third straight District Title and their first State Title in the FDR High School Basketball history. He couldn't be more impressed and most of all proud, with how well she developed._

_Twenty Minutes later... _

_They were in the dining room at a small round table sitting side by side looking at their finished plates. They saved the rest for; Diana's mom, who worked the night shift as a Registered Nurse at a Hospital in Manhattan, and her Grandfather, who owns a grocery store that is two blocks away. _

_Admiring their work and taking in the smells of pork, rosemary and garlic, Jerome finally decides to break the silence, "Think we 'fatso bene'?" _

_"Si," She laughs lightly, then adds, "and again, its 'Fatto'," She would correct as she lightly tapped him on the cheek twice "You're getting there, Jerome." She looks down to her food and declares "Lasciaire di mangiare!" _

_"I still feel that is too much just to say 'Lets eat!'" he quips with a chuckle. He sees that she is about to take her first bite and gets and idea, "Wait!" he shouts. And Diana stops with the fork half-way to her mouth, "Stay just like that." He takes his cell and activates the camera. _

_"You gotta be kidding me Jerome." Diana mumbles, slightly annoyed that Jerome is preventing her from eating._

_"Don't you want to keep this moment forever? I mean, this looks to be your best dish yet!" Jerome explains to her. _

_"Make it quick!" She declares, now visibly annoyed, wanting to enjoy the dish that is on her plate. _

_He points the cell phone up towards her face and says "And... Sorriso." _

_FLASH!_

_*Ends Flashback* _

It was such a great night for him. They swapped stories, and enjoyed the Tuscan style cooking that she made. He smiled, remembering that night so well. But in the following two years, his rivalry with Morgan took Diana on an emotional joy ride that she wanted no part of. Those words on prom night said it all...

_"You and Morgan can't seem to stop putting me in the middle of all of the crap you two get into when you go up against each other, and you know what! I! AM! SICK OF IT!, I thought that I could at least get away from the drama that my family gives me about going to college in the states rather than back in Italy, but you proved me wrong. You ALWAYS prove me wrong." She stormed away from the hotel and out of his life. She turned to address him once more, "You seem to be getting better and better at that. Bastardo Arrogante!" _

With those words she was gone and out of his life. She didn't even come to the schools Graduation, as she picked up her diploma days before. As she would turn out to be gone out of his life physically, she never was out of his mind. All of those years of being friends and going out even through that Junior and Senior year, down the drain in the end. Ironically, like the way he plays in his high school basketball tournaments, start brilliant but just couldn't finish. He shakes his head at that memory. He continues looking at pictures. Once he's finished, he closes

the laptop and lies back on his couch and stares out towards the bright Skyline. And as he drifts off to sleep, the last words he breathed out for the night came out of his mouth is a slight...

"Damn..."

* * *

_Four days Later, somewhere in the woods of Spokane, Washington. Spokane Hills High School Gymnasium... _

The Washington Lady Huskies was starting day three of their own training camp. Today was almost perfect for a day like this. Everyone seemed to be excited about their upcoming season. They all believed they had a chance to become great, but Samantha Puckett wasn't thinking about any of that. No, her mind instead was occupied with thoughts of why Freddie hasn't been picking up his phone or replying to the texts that she sent. It's been three days at the camp and her focus has been waning and being replaced with anger, frustration, and even a bit of worry, but just a tiny bit.

Her heart wasn't in it. At first it didn't show. She ran as well as anyone else on the team, and spiked harder than everyone else on the team, just like the athlete she was. After the end of the first day though, she had started to finish behind the other girls. She began opting to set up other players rather than spike. By the second day she began missing her spikes. And her serves began to fly out of bounds. She could hear the snickers from her teammates. Even more unlike her, however, was the fact that her anger wasn't focused on her game. Instead, it was placed elsewhere.

She couldn't believe the nerve of Freddie to not reply or call her back! He could, at least, have told her how his try-outs went. Or anything, to at least let her know that he was okay. But he decided to ignore her. But that wasn't even the worst part. Her game was suffering because of it. Why! Why was her game off? Just because he decided not to talk to her? Had she fallen so low as to need that nub to have a good game? She checked her phone for a message through those three nights, in her bed at the hotel. Her display was blank.

_Unbelievable,_ she thought.

She drifted off to sleep, every one of those nights, thinking about what diabolical plan she would implement for her revenge on Mr. Benson when she returned to Seattle.

The next day, Sam started her day with an exercise session in which she was able to keep up with the senior starters. She also lifted pretty well in her weight training. She was back at her Puckett best. However, at lunch, she checked for anything from Freddie, in her Pear Phone...

Nothing... Again.

Her frustration was now at a dangerous level, once again and it began to show at her scrimmage against the upperclassmen.

She was at the net. She had been set up perfectly twice before. And both times, she spiked too hard and sent the ball out of bounds. The serve came once again. Sam watched as the ball was hit up into the air and sailed to the girl on her right. The girl clasped her hands together and bumped the ball high above Sam. This was it… her redeeming moment.

Sam took a step back, and jumped into the air. She swung her arm forward and hit the ball.

It was a shot that missed everyone, and including the line but the view from Sam's angle was skewed...

The Head Coach, Gina Kaplan, blew the whistle. "It's out, Puckett! Rotate!" Coach directed.

If this was the day before, she would have just let things be and rotated with little more than a frustrated grumble. However, today, her frustration with: the way she is playing, and how she thought she was bouncing back, and most of all, Freddie not talking to her, her resolve just broke. Her anger flowed like water from a broken dam.

Sam just wasn't having it. "What are you? Blind? It wasn't out! It was inside the line, I had it in!"

Coach Kaplan wasn't having insubordination at anytime. "Puckett! It was out! Rotate NOW!"

Sam was going to do just that when another freshman right in front of Sam started whispering towards another teammate. "Where in the hell does she get off, yelling at the coach like that?"

Sam heard and immediately attacked, "What the hell are you doing in my business?" Sam may not have been quite herself, but she wasn't going to take any lip…

From any one.

The red-haired teammate turn around towards Sam, face to face she was. "And just what the hell do you think you're gonna do about it?"

If Sam had any modicum of self-control, it was broken at that very moment. Her mind was flooded with angry thoughts, she was overwhelmed with an all too familiar feeling. The desire to hurt something… anything.

A sudden smacking sound resounded powerfully all throughout the Gymnasium. Students were holding Sam back from pouncing on the girl that was, now, on the floor. She wanted to finish the girl off. _I don't take crap like this! Who the hell they think they are? _

The assistant coaches finally ran in and pulled the red-haired freshman away from the scene. Coach Kaplan came into the circle with an aura of animosity, annoyance, and disappointment. The worst part was that Sam could see all of it in the way the caoch was looking straight into her eyes.

"Puckett! Locker room! Now!"

* * *

Since she came to be the head coach at Washington three years ago, she had an overall record of 15 wins and 74 losses. She was on the hot seat. Her job was on the line and this season could very well have been her last with the Huskies. She made a desperate plea to the school's Athletic Director to keep her job; promising a winning record and a solid showing in the NCAA Women's Volleyball Tournament. She knew that she had to take some risks. One of them was picking up, problem child, Sam Puckett.

She knew how good she was as a double athlete at Ridgeway High; winning state titles in both, Volleyball and Basketball. She also knew about the punch that made Sam such a risk in the first place. She was also very aware of Sam's Juvie record which was as long as Coach Kaplan's, fourteen year old daughter's cell phone bill. But she took the risk, and she brought her in. To this day, she doesn't know how. Her grades were dismal, but they were just high enough to be within legal borders of NCAA regulations.

But for that risk to behave in the way that she had earlier, was unacceptable. Sam's actions were grounds for getting kicked off of the team. Even more than that, it was grounds for actually legal consequences. She really hoped it wouldn't come to that. Coach Kaplan believed in second chances. She received one from the Athletic director, so she could most certainly give Sam one. Not to mention it would reflect horribly on her, since she was the one who **personally** recruited her.

"I took a risk on you!" Kaplan's voice boomed through the locker room.

She waited for a response. Seeing the defiant look on Sam's face and hearing no response let Kaplan know that yelling wouldn't get through to her.

Kaplan sighed, "I took a big risk, but I am not willing to give up on you yet." Kaplan says exasperated, "I am a person who's all for second chances. But you need to know this is NOT Ridgeway High School, this is the University of Washington and misconduct and insubordination will NOT be taken lightly, _especially_ on my squad." She takes a deep breath and continues, "You are now suspended from this team indefinitely. You come back on this team when I decide you can handle yourself better than what I saw out there. So you need to show it in the grades, I want you to hold at least a 2.7 Grade Point Average. You do that, your back on. Also, when you do return I want you to give the girl a written apology. If you come back on this team you will be red-shirted for the rest of the season. Am I understood?"

All Sam could do is nod.

"Good, you are to leave the premises immediately. Do you have anyone that will come up this far to pick you up?"

"Yes," Sam whispers solemnly.

"Well, you need to wait outside for them," She was about to fully walk out but turned around back towards Sam. "And please, don't talk with anyone on the team as you leave." Coach Kaplan says as she walks out of the locker room, leaving Sam to pack up her things, alone.

* * *

Sam is trying to convince herself that nothing that happened today was real. She wanted it all to be a dream. _My mind is not right, that's all. I am not sitting outside, after getting suspended from the team, BEFORE my season even started, still trying to call Freddie Benson. _

Everything is very real though. Her mind couldn't still comprehend what went down, just ten minutes earlier. She felt the rush of someone being pushed towards the limit and just blacked out. The next sight she remembers is: getting held back by not just her teammates, but the coaching staff as well, a girl on the floor scared for her life and being pulled away, like a cowgirl that just got thrown off by a bull in a rodeo, and an irate coach telling her that she was suspended indefinitely.

There was no one she could blame. For once she was blaming herself...

_It's that dork Freddie's Fault. _Okay, maybe not.

And as she was getting his voice mail for what it felt like the thousandth time she left a message...

_I don't believe you. You won't pick up a single message from me! And now look where it has gotten me! I am now suspended because of all the frustration YOU caused, you bastard! Just one reply from you or a call... But nothing you dork! And I thought we were friends... But I can see what you really think of me... _

She hangs up the phone. Then Sam decides to call Carly to pick her up. Sam knows she has a long wait and sits near the gym's double doors looking inside towards the players that are on the court in middle of a session. She sighs, knowing that it's not all Freddie's fault… Knowing that she may have these underlying issues, and seeing that those issues are about to hurt the people around her.

_HONK! _

And speaking of people around her...

It was hours later, late in the afternoon to be exact, when Carly had finally come to pick her up. She was sporting a stern look that had Sam shivering and silent as she came in the car. Her head down knowing she will get an unrelenting 'talking to' by Carly. All that was left was to brace herself for the relentless, unyielding, scathing, sound of Carly's… silence.

She was met with silence...

At first Sam found herself relieved. But the ride was a long one, and Sam could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her. This feeling was worse than any talk she's ever received.

Sam cracked, "WILL YOU SAY SOMETHING TO ME!" Sam yelled all of a sudden to a surprised Carly.

"What you want me to say Sam? That I'm super pissed off at you? Which I, totally, am because not only do I hear that you got suspended but also that I have to come pick you up and then go back and get ready for my night with Gibby! I don't like to get ready in that short of a timeframe Sam! You owe me big time!"

"Yes I know, some is my fault but Freddie..."

"Freddie did what, Sam?"

"Freddie," Sam gave a huge sigh before continuing. "Didn't reply to my texts or answer his phone during the time I was here and… I don't know, I guess it got to me, and..."

"Wait..." Carly interrupted "So you go lash out at one person because you're mad at Freddie. The same Freddie that you love to bother and annoy… The same Freddie that you claim annoys you and bugs you and, on occasion, makes you sick… but yet, he ignores you and you just get all mad and take it out on the girl next to you?"

"Sort of.."

Nothing was said from Carly the rest of the ride...

The last words from Sam for the rest of the five hour ride, was a quiet...

"Damn him..."

* * *

Authors Note: I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I wrote it. I have some ideas for the next chapter in my head and I hope you guys will enjoy the ride I have ready for everyone involved. So please read and review. I love any type of feedback to make me a better writer, so you guys will read a great story.

Stay reading my friends,

Harful13

P.S. Please read the works of iCabal, the great bunch of people are...

**aussiemma, axel100, BaalRules, BoxOfTrinkets, Boxofpiglets, , Commander Lagasse, Coyote Laughs, Deviocity, hidden-in-the-pictures, ItalianBabexo8, iCabal, iCarlyangst, iLuvNathanKrEsS, JamesTheGreater, KingxLeon21, Myjumpingsocks, ober22, pairababes, Pigwiz, Tech-Man, The Earl of Sandwich, Waffels of Doom, xXACCEBXx. **

Hope you enjoy those bunch of characters as much as I do.

Italian Translations

'Ciao piccola Italia' - Hello Little Italy

'Sì, l'ho fatto' - Yes, I did

'Fatto bene' - Did well

'Un modo per scoprire' - One way to find out

'Lasciaire di mangiare' - Lets eat

'Se mi conosci così bene?' - If you know me so well?

'sorriso' - smile

'Bastardo arrogante' - Arrogant Bastard.

_Next time on IWBSM..._

_"**Sam, I should deserve the right to be laughing at the fact of how karma just bit you so bad, I should deserve the right to joke at your anger FINALLY catching up to you, but I am not because you know why Sam?" **_

_**"Why?" **_

_******"Because Sam, Lowering Levels wont take away the fact that I failed. It won't take away the fact that at this point I am not there mentally yet, and it doesn't take away the fact that, unlike what you did with everything else in your life except some meaty conception, I won't give up on what I want.** "_

Interested in the next chapter? Reviewing will help me big time onto getting to it.


	12. Chapter 12

_Four days after Sam's dismissal, Freddie's Dorm Room_

Freddie was laying down on his bed, his head is buried in a large black hardcover book. Was it math? No, he did that earlier. Was it history, English or even communications? Nope, Freddie had decided to turn his full attention to, _"Advanced Basketball: For Dummies"._ Freddie decided to take a couple of summer classes at the University. However, those classes weren't his main focus. He spent the days in the classroom focusing on his school work but once class was over he spent his nights focusing on the lingo of the game. He would get big, large books by some of the smartest and most revered names in collegiate basketball: John Wooden, Dean Smith, Bobby Knight and Mike Krzyzewski. He dove into these books but he still didn't have a complete understanding of everything he was reading. While reading, however, he came across the offense that the team was using. The 1-4 Offense that UCLA made famous in the 60's and 70's. All of the x's and o's, and lines and arrows; it was to make Freddie's head spin but he slowly read on.

After trudging on like this for another hour he figured that he was getting nowhere. he would call Gibby when he got a chance.

His thoughts and focus on reading came into a sudden halt as he heard a knock on the door. He stopped reading and was hoping that his best guy friend came over for a visit. However, as he opened his door, he saw that his hoping useless. Instead, his "sister" Carly was in his doorway; hands on hips, leering at him, pursed lips, and a raised left eyebrow that Former WWE Wrestler "The Rock" would have been proud of. Never in his life, did Freddie think that he would be afraid of Carly. But the fear in his eyes and the sweaty palms, proved that there was, indeed, a first for everything.

"Hello, Fredward"

Suddenly Freddie thought quickly, _Is this Sam in Carly's disguise? _

"Uh, Hey… you!" _Why in the world I just say that? _

"Why haven't you been around lately?"

"Uh," Freddie was stumped. He didn't want to avoid Carly, but the idea of Sam being around lately has been just too much for him to fathom seeing either of them...

"Why haven't you been taking any of our Calls?"

"What in the world happened to you!" Freddie was taken aback at Carly's sudden raise in her voice, "I mean I haven't seen you or heard from you in over a week!"

"OKAY!" Freddie screams. "CALM DOWN AND LET ME EXPLAIN! CHIZ CARLY!"

"HEY! SHUT UP OVER THERE! I'VE GOT A CLASS IN THE MORINING!" Came the voice of one of Freddie's neighbors.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, the two best friends fell back into silence.

Freddie sighs, "I just didn't want to see Sam..." Freddie answers in a squeak of a voice.

"Can I come in? Because we really need to talk."

_"Figuring out Samantha Puckett, felt like disarming a high grade bomb. a whole bunch of wires to cut different colors and what not. All seem to have no way of being the line to cut disarming the bomb that is her. So, why try? Why stay around and be the friend she doesn't ever appreciate? Ever? I am still figuring that part out myself. So, get in line..." _

_A few days later, University of Washington Athletic Department... _

Freddie Benson had never felt the adrenaline pumping as he had felt in the past two weeks trying to avoid a steaming mad blonde haired demon, even though the last few days had been spent in his dorm room. He has gotten no end of trying to escape her grasp.

_I feel like a spy, infiltrating Fort Knox._ Freddie thought, as he took his sneaking around to new levels as today Sam would be talking to the Athletic Director and Dean with Coach Kaplan at the department today. All Freddie wanted to do, was see who made the Basketball team.

_Okay Benson, get in, get out and get on with your life. _After a few minutes of sneaking around he finally came to his objective, the large bulletin board outside of the Athletic Director's office. It stopped him in his tracks, knowing what could be on that paper. But, he had to look anyway.

So after a taking a huge breath he quickly walked up to the board, and flipped through the list of who made it, and started looking for his name. It didn't take him long to know his fate.

He wasn't on the list...

Suddenly...

_POP! _

_**That's great, its starts with an Earthquake, birds and snakes an, aeroplane... **_

A plastic fork just missed his middle and index fingers and was perfectly lodged in the bulletin board. He stretched his eyes, his throat dried up and he was scared lifeless as he turned around to meet the glacial stare of Samantha Puckett. Her hands were on her hips and the look on her face was daring him to say anything that would detonate the bomb that she is.

"Hey... You?" Freddie squeaked. _Yea, that defused it. _His thoughts dripped with sarcasm.

_**Lenny Bruce is not afraid**_

"I haven't seen you for almost 2 weeks, and THAT is what comes out?" She asks in a quiet voice. Her eyes, which at one point held a tiny ember, are now ablaze with something akin to a wildfire. _It's actually kind of fitting_, Freddie thinks idly.

But he wouldn't dare speak, so Sam continued, "You don't take my calls..."

_**Eye of a hurricane, listen to your self churn... **_

"You don't reply to ANY of my messages!"

_**World serves its own needs, dummy serve your own needs, **_

_**Feed it off an aux speak, grunt, no, strength, the ladder start to clatter **_

"You even told Carly, not to tell me where you were!:

_**With fear fight down height, Wire in a tire**_

_**representing seven games, and a government for hire on a combat site**_

"You spent all of this time avoiding me, and sneaking around corners, and acting like some sort of spy… reject…" She slowly starts to close the space in between them.

_**Left of west and coming in a hurry **_

_**with the fury's breathing... **_

Freddie hadn't moved since her tirade started. Sam, thinking that she had the upper hand, decided to make her move. In three strides she pounced…

"And, all you say is..." Her voice dropped to a threatening calm.

_**Down...**_

_**"**_Hey..." she grabbed him by his collar.

_**Your... **_

"You?" She says the last part in a harsh whisper.

_**Neck... **_

Sam had been waiting for this moment ever since getting suspended. She's been waiting for the day when could just destroy the boy that seems to NOT get out of her damn head of hers; even as today loomed closer and closer.

Today was the day that her fate would be decided. Today she found out if your college career ended. She was scheduled to meet with the coach, the AD, and the Dean. However, while waiting for her name to be called, she saw Freddie looking at the bulletin board. She couldn't, NOT, take advantage of this. This was about her getting the point across that SHE was still in control. This was about putting this dork in his place…

Once and for all.

_**Team by team reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped**_

_**Look at that low playing...**_

Freddie closed his eyes, waiting for the beating of his life, but there was nothing. Freddie warily opened his eyes.

She seemed to start to fall back...

_**Fine...**_

_Whew, _he sighs...

_**Then...**_

Suddenly, she harshly yanks him by the collar; dragging him to a more secluded area, making sure that she could still hear her name being called for her meeting.

_**Uh oh, overflow, population, common food but it'll do **_

Pushing him against a wall and pulls out a permanent marker, and puts it up towards his forehead, straight at the temple to be exact.

"Any last words, before your name turns from Fredward Benson, to Sam's bitch?" Her harsh whisper was quiet but it spoke volumes...

_**To Save yourself, serve yourself, **_

_**World serves its own needs, **_

_**Listen to your heart bleed, **_

_**dummy with the rapture and the revered and the right, right **_

And as she came closer to brand what she said to him to his forehead…

_**You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light...**_

The fear of the awaiting embarrassment of it all, well...

_**Feeling... **_

it just...

_**Pretty...**_

Wasn't there.

_**Psyched!**_

He looked closer and saw; not of the strong and feared Sam Puckett, but instead, he saw a tired and distraught Sam. Her voice, now, held less venom. Which, was pretty surprising. What surprised him even more was that he felt more fear when he was talking to Carly earlier that week, than when he was assaulted by Sam.

_There really is a first for everything. _He thought.

He felt that this may be the _only _chance he would ever have. He couldn't let an opportunity like this pass him by. So, he just let all of the anger and frustration out.

_**Its the end of the world as we know it... **_

"Go ahead Sam," Freddie spat, "Etch 'Sam's bitch' across my forehead. And you know what I'm going to say to the first teacher that asks me about it?"

"What?" She suddenly whispered.

"I'll say 'Samantha Joy Puckett did this to me', And if you think things are bad now… You don't have Principal Franklin to help you out. This is NOT Ridgeway High, _This is_ the University of Washington and with the crap you were dealing with before, you will never… EVER… set foot on this campus again!" Freddie spoke with a certain fire that Sam wasn't used to.

Sam ws stunned into silence, so Freddie continued, "But I won't"

Sam was thoroughly confused, "Sam, I have every right to be laughing at the fact of how karma just bit you so hard, I have every right to joke at your anger FINALLY catching up to you, but I won't. You know why Sam?"

"Why?" She asked unable to move.

"Because Sam, stooping to your level won't take away the fact that I failed. It won't take away the fact that, at this point, I am not where I need to be, mentally. And you know what else? I won't stoop to your level because that'd make me no better than you. Unlike what you've done with everything in your life… I refuse to give up just because the road got a little rough."

"Samantha Puckett!"

She suddenly heard the sound of the Secretary and finally she had no real choice but to let go of him.

Silently she began to walk to the conference room when she heard Freddie say, "Mark my words, Puckett. I WILL be _better_ than you."

She didn't say a single word as she walked around of the corner and entered the conference room.

_**Its the end of the world as we know it... **_

Freddie stood there and couldn't believe that worked. All he could say was...

_**Its the end of the world as we know it...**_

"Finally, I have some time alone..."

He stalked back to the safety of his dorm.

_**And I feel fine... **_

Sam was sitting at the single chair in the conference room of the Athletic Department building. In front of her, stood the three people that would decide her fate. Coach Kaplan was on the left. On the right, was Athletic Director, David Hoffer and in the middle was the one that would dictate it all. University Dean, Janice Harper. The only person Sam wants to see again soon is Coach Kaplan. She doesn't want to deal with the other two again till that final day in the university as she receives her degree for graduation.

"Samantha Puckett, you are here because of fighting during university sanctioned activity, do you understand the charge?" Said AD Hoffer with his left eyebrow cocked high.

_Hmph… fight… hardly. It was one-sided considering the way I smacked that skunk-bag to next week. _"Yes" She responded through gritted teeth in all.

"Well," Said Dean Harper as she leaned forward, staring directly into Sam's eyes. "Anything you need to say before you make our verdict?"

"Yes," Sam says lightly and then she clears her throat and sits up straight and stares back with conviction.

"I know what I have done is unacceptable and is grounds for expulsion. I feel, though, that I have to say that I apologize for my unsavory behavior. Also, I want you to know this," She takes a deep breath and continues.

"I will promise you that I WILL keep myself out of trouble and I will be a better person that my team and the university as a whole will be able to respect. I would like to say that I am, honestly, sorry. Not just to the girl that I hit, but also to Coach Kaplan and all of you here today. I would love to have another chance to play for the Lady Huskies and I will understand if I have to be dismissed from the team. I would deserve it because you all took a chance on me that no one else would. If I am reinstated I promise that I will comply with any punishment you hand me. And upon my reinstatement to the team I will give one hundred and fifteen percent." Sam had rehearsed this with Carly from the time that she received notice of this hearing up until this moment. She knows that she needed to approach it in a professional manner or well for a lack of better words...

She would be screwed.

Silence engulfed the room and the three people in front of her would stare back and forth at each other...

"Miss Puckett" Dean Harper would say, "I believe in second chances, and even though you seem to have such a sordid…" She thought about it for a moment. "history. I believe in how sincere you were in your speech and will give you another second chance… on these conditions." Dean Harper looks towards Coach Kaplan in a knowing stare.

"Sam," Said the coach. "You'll have to do a hundred hours of community service in addition to the other conditions that we have already discussed. You will also have to issue an apology to the team and to the player you fought. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Sam again said, through gritted teeth, of course.

"So, even though you are redshirted, you are welcomed back to the team." Sam was finally able to smile. However as she stood to leave the conference room the Dean had a word of caution.

"Miss Puckett, you have been given another chance… be sure not to waste it. Just one more incident and you will be dismissed. Do you understand, Miss Puckett?"

"Yes." She walked out of the room, ignoring the chill that ran down her spine.

_Three Days Later... _

"There is a city called George? What the hell?"

It was a long drive. Two and a half hours long; driving down the stray road on I-43 to a Homeless Shelter in George, Washington. It's a small town, as on Google maps you'd have to zoom in quite a bit to see the city as all, but its there. In the center of the small town there is a homeless shelter that does, weekly, Sunday dinners. This week would be her first of many, as she started to work off her community service hours…

Slowly.

Sam had already apologized to the team, and that went well. But apologizing to the freshman was a bit trickier.

Getting T-Bo to give the girl free smoothies for a year was trickier, still. But it was done. It took some good scare tactics but she is Sam Puckett, she exudes awesomeness.

She's walked up to one of the servers in the homeless shelter and asked "This is the place for hobos?"

The server, looking confused, answered, "Yes it is and how are you young miss?"

"Sam Puckett," She answered, "I got community service here from the University of Washington?"

The Server Smiled "Ah, so you're Samantha-"

"It's Sam." Sam countered coolly.

"Sam," the server amended, "Yes, we will be starting our Sunday dinner soon, It would be nice if you could arrive a little earlier to help prepare..."

"Yea, yea, I'll be here when I want."

"Uh, okay." The server shook his head and gestured behind him, "The kitchen is back that way."

"Thanks, hobo helper."

So, Sam reached the door of the kitchen and suddenly saw her workplace.

The place was a total wreck; dishes all over the place. There were some on the floor, somehow, and very few in the sink. Grime and an unknown smell wafted through the degraded room. At the middle counter stood a chef who was working on her whole menu alone here.

_She can't be doing good dishes..._

But Sam looked at the dishes that sat on the table. They contained foods that the hobos would be eating. Sam compared the center counter to the rest of the kitchen and it was a different story. The foods looked like a star could eat them.

"Hey!"

Sam finished her analysis of the situation. She came to the conclusion that; even her dorm room wasn't _this_ much of a mess. But, at least, the girl whom she was helping could get things done.

Sam looked towards the other girl, but wasn't allowed to respond before the chef was asking questions.

"You're the help I was looking for?"

"Yup, I'm..."

"No Time!" The chef yelled. "You're my first help since I started a couple of weeks ago! We need to get started now!" She threw an apron at Sam. "Get started on dicing the tomatoes!"

Many hours later, they were finally done with the shelter's Sunday dinner. They brought different dishes out to George's homeless population. When they were finished serving, they looked at the happy faces that were displayed. It gave her a good feeling, that she made those smiling faces.

She was sitting with her partner-in-crime, eating one of the dishes that they made at the end of the Sunday dinner. And, good eats, it was.

"So," Sam said as she was inhaling her lasagna, "I'm guessing you were forced to be in this dump like I was?"

"No," Replied the chef. "I wasn't."

"Huh?"

"I like coming to George. From my school, it's a nice long drive, and the people need a slice of the life they want to have," she sighed, "It gives these people hope for a better future."

Sam nodded in silence.

"So what did you do?"

"I slapped a teammate on my volleyball team, no biggie." Sam shrugged.

The chef raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because, my nub of a friend wouldn't talk to me."

"This _nub, _as you call it, must be pretty important to ya." The chef replied with a chuckle.

Sam said nothing back.

"Well," The chef sat up and started getting ready to leave. "Will you be back next Sunday? We made a good team."

"Eh, we'll see." Sam smirked through that.

"Well, sorry for the first impressions, I was in the zone. What's your name?"

"Sam, Sam Puckett."

"Name's Diana, but you can call me D."

A/N: So that is chapter 12... So for those who read thanks for your patience and I hope this chapter is up to you guys standards.

And a New story is out called "G-Buddies" I been getting that ready for a while and fell this could be a good one indeed. So look out for that.

So finally I hope you guys review this story and pass it on to others, and most of all...

Stay reading, my friends.

Hartful13

P.S. One more thing...

**Read**

**~The CABAL~**

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**From fluff, to face melting angst.**

**The Cabal authors produce the best.**

**Be sure to look for postings by many of your favorite Cabal authors this weekend!**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

Being early wasn't Sam Puckett's thing… ever… but college can change a person. She went through such a long summer after Freddie got back from New York: trying to fix what she went through with her teammates, her coach, heck, even herself. But the main thing she couldn't get was…

Why she seemed to be missing Freddie so much?

It was a, painful, thought that came in her mind after all these years of thinking she'd held it at bay. All those years of thinking she could keep it inside after those kisses, those _grand _kisses, that she can't seem to forget, doesn't want to remember.

She gave Freddie the brunt of her bulling ways, yet, he pushed through all of that and impressed her. Lately it seems that he's been brushing off her attacks more and more. He even seemed to be more of a friend to her, _before this summer, at least. _This summer has really made a mess of her head and made her almost gave into telling him how she felt.

But that wouldn't do, in Sam Puckett's eyes.

She needed an opportunity to turn the heat up and when she found it in this _joke of a bet, _as she would call it, she turned up the pressure. The pranks were just the tip of the iceberg. She was determined to get Freddie. No matter how far away she was, she wanted to hit, and hit hard at Freddie's will. She thought she had done, just, that at first. How frustrated he sounded at the situation_. _After a while, however, he started to sound even more confident.

_No, that wouldn't do._

So, after collecting her thoughts, she heard from Gibby about the upcoming tournament and got Carly to go down there by making her think that she wanted to see her aunt in Manhattan. _Another genius move, Puckett. _She got Gibby to give the guy that was in front of Freddie, food poisoning. While she was trying to come up with another idea to take Freddie down, _he_ came into the Cafe that fateful morning of the tournament. She was surprised and dripping with confusion until Jonah came walking in also. Then, she turned the tables with her improvising and made it seem as if she was going out with Jonah. Seeing how mad Freddie was will always be a classic.

_And the Oscar for best performance in annoying a dorky best friend goes too... _

Then, the fake conversation with Jonah and the saucy grin that she shot towards Freddie's staring eyes was truly the last domino to be set in place. At tip-off she let it tip over. Seeing his team demolished was, truly, just what she needed to get those foolish feelings out of her. In being so proud of her self she poured what she really thought of him to Jonah.

Her confidence, going into Volleyball Camp couldn't be higher.

She thought she had this bet in the bag and that he would call saying that he'd given up Basketball and will be fitted for the Urkel suit very soon. She waited for that call the night before she left for camp.

But it never came.

She wasn't so mad that he didn't want to talk to her, because the last message she sent him may have rattled him to a good point. Then, time rolled on and he hadn't called at all on the first or the second days of camp. So, she tried to bait him with messages to see if he calls or replies on the third and fourth days. Nothing came. Then the anger started to seep in, leading to more hostile, voicemails and text messages. She didn't understand why she was getting angry, but rather than let it take over, she worked harder at camp. But she's a Puckett, and as such, the anger was bound to take over eventually; and when it did, what started as a normal practice day on the fifth day of camp, quickly turned into a mistake that would make everything spill over. And at that point only one thing could be said.

The game had changed.

It turned from; her taking over Women's Volleyball and being the star of, not just this team, but of all of Division I, to trying to hold her place and scholarship by the end of this season. It shook her, knowing that she was that close to becoming her mother. It shook her even more, knowing that Freddie had caused it. Her mind was engulfed, now more than ever before, on those dark emotions that she didn't want. She thought that she could erase it and put him in his place when they had finally met again, that day at her meeting with the Dean and the Athletic Director, but Freddie showed no fear and just let out everything that he really wanted to say to her.

_For once the dork Manned up!_ And what timing, right?

She barred herself from keying into the old Sam Puckett and through that week apologized to her teammates and to that freshman and eventually rejoined the team. But that aura of intimidation she wanted her opponents to feel was also being felt by her teammates.

That isn't what she wanted, not like this.

She needed a new angle, an angle she never had with her old teammates in Ridgeway. She needed to turn into something that she never thought she could be, or make herself believes to be, ever in her life before.

She was going to have to be a team player.

It was hard for her in the past few weeks but going to those Sunday dinners down in George helped her. She quickly grasped on to the styles that Diana had and, in turn, gave her a certain respect that she had given few people ever in her entire life. They started talking about recipes and other foods, as Sam was majoring in Cuisine at UW.

Eventually, their talk about recipes turned into passing stories and Sam felt that Diana had this ambition that Sam never had before. Sam was also impressed with how Diana dealt with different situations in her life. So she went into detail about what she went through.

_Diana and Sam were eating after finishing another Sunday dinner at the homeless shelter. That night, they were doing classic Tuscan cuisine like the Pasta Fresca with Stracotto – Fresh Pasta with Braised Beef, and the Fritelles – Tuscan style fritters for dessert. They were in synch the way they were bringing out their dishes in great time. They had formed a, sort of, special bond during their time spent together, and they started to open up more because of it. "What was always nagging me for years was; my dad's side wanted to carry on the Cassano name in Italy, cooking in the best restaurants and what not." Said Diana, "Especially my grandfather, he wanted to me be a five-star cook in the best restaurants in all of Europe. You know what I wanted to do?" _

"_What?" Sam asked. _

"_I wanted to start a Italian diner in a quiet town. Not one of those American Italian Joints, no. A Diner that gave pure Italiano cooking from up the northern fringe to down in old Sicily, after my WNBA career is finished, of course." _

"_I thought I had that," Sam, quickly, replied with a scrunched up nose as she looked down and picked at her food. "But that has escaped me." _

_"Nah Puckett," Said Diana. "Nothing escapes ya unless you let it go,"_

"_I think I did," _

"_How?" _

"_I cold cocked an opponent at an All-American game over a boy," _

"_Wait?" She looks up suddenly at her "I thought I remembered you from somewhere. You're 'Parking Lot' Puckett?"_

"_Uh…"_ _**Oh boy**, she thought. Just as she made another friend She had to go and open her big mouth about that dang…_

"_Impressive punch, I never liked that Carter chick, She would use some type of mind game to get to whomever she was facing. Its BS is what I would say." _

"_Huh?" She was surprised at how she acted towards this; to others, they had an aura of disappointment, or fear._

"_Yeah, I mean she had to have some reason to deserve that even if the girl was on my team. She was overrated and somehow because of her size alone got into USC… Child please!"_

"_But it ruined my chance at a good Division I school…" _

"_Then try Division 2!" Diana cuts her off all of a sudden, "Or try the Junior College Route at least two years and then give your tapes to other Div I schools! But you don't give up on a dream when you know you can succeed. I may be playing at Eastern Washington, but I am still going to play my butt off for this team and be a first round draft pick with some WNBA team. I have the talent, the smarts, and the ambition."_

"_You underrate how Scouts are when looking at a school for a good WNBA Career…" Sam said as she averted her gaze. _

"_Pssh! If this were true in the NBA, Charles Oakley or Ben Wallace would not be noticed coming from Tiny Virginia Union and Every Duke player would be drafted. The thing is, Puckett, it shouldn't matter where you come from, it's about where you take your team, when you are on it. So that talk of ruing your chances because of that punch should be stopped. There are other ways; you just need to look for it."_

"_Wow" Sam mumbled. _

"_As you see, I'm not your average cook/basketball player, I feel like every chance I can get, I perfect my craft." _

"_And this is your cooking craft?"_

"_Mostly yes, I master in Italian cooking and mostly Sicilian works. Also, I am a student always and trying to get to our northern neighbors in Florence and Rome." _

_"What about basketball?" _

"_I train in the morning with some teammates before I come down here. I play point guard." _

"_Hmm," said Sam. Diana Seemed to have everything mapped out to a tee. Compared to what Sam is going through right now, as she has no idea what she wants to do in college right now. _

"_So, where you're from?" Diana asked as she took Sam from her thoughts. "Seattle, born and raised, you?" _

"_New York, Born and raised." _

"_Seriously?" Sam's eyes almost popped out of her head. _

"_You can't be surprised Puckett!" Diana exclaimed laughing through it. _

"_I guess I shouldn't be but, why here?" _

"_To get away. Everyone around me in my life was trying to pry in and get involved including family but mostly, my best friend I couldn't be around anymore." _

"_Why?" Why Sam wanted to know so much more about this New Yorker, she'd never be able to tell you. __**I mean, I can barely take Carly's blabbermouth, and she is my BFF. **__She thought. _

"_One day, I'll tell ya that" Diana replied staring at Sam wearing a smirk on her face. _

_Sam smirked back and they went back to their dinner in silence. _

So, Sam started to feel more and more confident towards Diana and felt more attuned to what she had to say. What started as simple Sunday dinner conversations turned into IM's between each other for cooking tips, and phone calls about how they were training. In a month's time Sam had a new friend.

At this point, Sam wanted to give UW School of Cooking a try. So also she did something even more out of her character.

She went to summer school, _**willingly. **_

So she started early trying to take out those, at times, _unbearable _core courses. So on the Volleyball court, she was being more of a teammate, in the classroom, she was trying to gain more 'class' rather than 'ass'.

There was, however, one thing she was harshly against doing at this point.

She hadn't talked to Freddie, which has been going on for about one month now as August. Rolled around.

And she doesn't care at all; not one bit. Well, at least, that is what she's _telling _herself. _But, that Carly, _Sam thought. _She won't stop being the peacemaker, now will she? _

_Carly and Sam are by themselves sitting at a table at a bistro across the street from where Sam is taking summer school classes. Its lunchtime and Carly wanted to see her before Sam had to go back to class. _

"_Sam, this feud" Carly said "No matter how __**justified**__, you think this is. You and I know that it is not." _

_If Sam had really known that Carly was up to another one of her 'aggressive interventions' that she was doing between Sam and Freddie, there would be no chance that she would have gone for this._

_To counteract this, Sam made an actual attempt to study, as she was reviewing for calculus, her next class. _

_So, as Carly was doing her regular 'motherly explaining' Sam was looking straight down at her Calculus textbook with two Paninis, one in each hand. _

_Something's would __**never **__change. _

"_Why are you acting like you're the victim?" Carly continued on. "Like Freddie would take the onslaught for so long Sam, it's a reaction when he stood up to you. And you know what? I am glad he did, he isn't the same thirteen year-old Fredward Benson that was 'so in love' with me all those years ago."_

_**Boy I wish I had that version, **__Sam thought, __**Then hating him would feel so much easier. **_

_"Uh-huh" is what she said as she kept studying._

_"That is gone now, Sam, he's changed into bolder guy now. 'iCarly' helped with being what he is now but you know who's made the bigger impact?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"You did."_

_**What? **Is what Sam thought. ** "**Hmm," Is what she said._

_"Yes, Sam. It's so obvious. All those mean things you have done to our best friend has actually made him even stronger and he's stood up to other bullies at Ridgeway. He said and I quote 'after awhile the words she would say just didn't hit like it used to and because of that I got through high school so much easier' end quote. His. Exact. Words. Sam"_

_**Only you Carly,** Sam thought and chuckling a bit with the thought. **'Only you can do end quotes during a regular conversation. But old' Fredward manning up huh? Impressive for a dork like him of course. **_

_"Well I am a journalism major, and see, I know the quote will get to you!" Carly replied with a big sassy smile on her face._

_Sam suddenly looked up at Carly. She said that out loud? **This may not end well, **Sam thought readying for Carly's next move but then… A loud beeping noise just filled the atmosphere of the table._

_Sam looks down and can feel a sigh of relief on her face as it was her phone alarm going off._

_"Oh Chiz!" Sam exclaims, as she stands up quickly and starts putting her text book and food into her backpack. "I got to go Carls, class starts in fifteen minutes see ya!" She turned around to leave but she stopped and quickly looked back. Sam looked straight at Carly and said, "You're eating that?"_

_Carly, shaking her head with more than just a no expression pushed her plate towards the blonde, and Sam picked the plate up and put its contents in a ziplock bag that she brings with her. She puts the plate down and trudges away towards the school across the street._

_"This isn't over Sam!" Carly yelled at Sam's retreating form._

_"We never are, cupcake!" Sam replied without looking back._

That was two days ago. She hadn't seen Carly around since, but that conversation kept ringing in her mind. Especially the quote about Freddie fighting back.

_It was plain to see, at the time that Freddichini manned up against me… but to say that he was getting to be a better guy because of it?_ "Seriously?" She mumbled, not at the thought of Freddie manning up, but at the sight of Fredward Benson that she hasn't seen in a month, practicing jump-shots at the same arena that the Volleyball team practices in.

Something is surely wrong with this picture.

_Isn't it? _Sam thought as he continued making jump-shots.

"This guy was serious about trying, huh?" Sam whispered with a thinking look on her face and decided instead of leaving, she goes up towards the stands and sees him at work.

**A/N: I hope you guys enjoy the chapter a lot of things been going on and moved up north now in PA so I couldn't really get back to ya guys but hopefully ill get another chance to get to ya guys and give you more chapters because I love this stuff and please Review and tell me what I am doing right and wrong. I want to get better as a writer. **

**So thanks for reading and please review… **


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

_**CLANK!**_

It sounded so much easier in the books he reads.

He was in the middle of a shooting session after a rough three mile morning run through 'The Ave.' UW's University Way where restaurants, clothing shops and other stores stand awaiting the bustle of the Summer School students in the hot Seattle morning.

It was a daily regimen that he had been doing since the try-outs. The Regimen included the run, spending time trying to learn plays, and hitting the gym with...

"_C'mon Freddie!" _

_Another rep._

"_You can do this!" _

_And another. _

"_You're__ right there dude! This is it! Just one more rep!" _

_Freddie feels his arms turn into jelly, his bones shaking like they were made of rubber. _

_But he kept going. So, so, close__,__ he thought. He pushed, and just as he got the weight up there… _

_"WOAH!" _

_The weight, slammed on his throat. Most of his air supply was cut off by the bar and over one hundred and thirty pounds of cold iron. He felt his life drain__,__ but his spotter, Gibby__,__ came to the rescue as he picked his bench bar up and placed it back on the stand where it originally came from. _

_Freddie sat up and breathed for dear life and slowly he brings his breathing down to comfortable levels._

_He__'d__ lifted weights in high school, but never twenty pounds over the weight that he usually went with. As he was catching his breath at the UW gym called__,__ the 'IMA', he doubted what Gibby had been telling him lately. _

"_In basketball, __you push to take what you want." _

_Freddie doubted those words, every time he lifted that weight. _

_That painful, __**PAINFUL**__**,**__weight. _

"_You're__ kidding me right?!" Freddie yelled in a hoarse voice, "TWENTY pounds over my regular bench weight?"" _

"_C'mon dude! Do you remember what I said? You gotta-" _

"_Push to take what you want? Yes I remember man!" __**But I don't want to push to a point where my arms break**__, Freddie thought._

"_Don't you think__ twenty is a bit too much?!" _

"_Okay, how about fifteen?" _

"_Five!" _

"_How about ten?' _

"_Gibby__!" _

"_OK, OK! We will start with ten!"_

"_GIBBY!"_

"_Alright, alright five, but when Gibby wants PUSH!" He turns to look intently stare at Freddie. _

_"Gibby will get, push!" He harshly whispers._

_Freddie gulps… _

The physical training had proven to be rough, but he felt more prepared from the summer he had in New York, so he got acclimated to the physical demands of the training. While the physical aspect was slowly coming along, the mental aspect seemed to escape him. He'd read book after book for days. He'd learned the lingo, and some main aspects of the game. However, when it came to running the play itself, the X's and O's confused him. Where does he go? Where does it start? Where is it supposed to end? It just wasn't enough to just read the books. He had to actually do it… but how? Luckily, he was about to receive some unexpected help.

"_No, I won't help that giant fail!" _

_Jerome and Rudy were at Keller__'s Sports Bar on 'the Ave'. It was__ a maddening Monday Night and most Seattle Mariners Fans, not just from UW but from all over Seattle, came to this spot to watch some baseball. Rudy and Jerome were there because the Chicken Wings were said to be the best in the 'U-District'. _

"_Man, these are some good wings, huh?" Rudy said as he ate another of his mild wings. Jerome ordered the hottest ones on the menu. _

"_Meh, they__ could be better__."__ Jerome stated, as he finished another wing. "Seriously, I will not have guys like Benson on this team!' _

"_And why is that?" Rudy asked. _

"_Because I feel he can get in over his head. And when that happens it could hinder this team at a moment's notice. I do not want that at all." _

"_Seriously? Why are you acting like this?" _

"_Because__,__ I need to look out for the team, man. A lot of people are trusting in us to do make an impact in the coming four years." _

"_C'mon Rome," Rudy Whined. _

"_No Henderson," Jerome grumbled. "Now, we enjoyed the best wings in U-District, can we enjoy the best sorority in UW?" _

"_No! Not until you agree on helping me here__.__" _

_Jerome sat forward looking intently at Rudy with a smirk on his face. "Two things. One__,__ the way you described this place to me earlier this week, do you really NOT want to go?" _

"_Good point," _

"_Two! The only way that guy would make this team if he played on UW on NCAA Basketball 10__.__" after Scoffing Jerome called for the check. _

_Now__,__ Rudy knew that he was only kidding about that, but it got Rudy thinking. A light bulb went off and a smirk crept upon his face. _

_A few days later, Freddie was sitting back studying for another summer school test in his dorm. He was also thinking of how to improve his game__,__ thinking about how to better him in the mental aspect a bit more. _

_Then he heard a knock on the door. _

_First, a quick tap. Freddie went to the door. _

_"Who is it?" He questioned. Not a sound. He decided to look through the peephole and saw nothing. _

_He turned to go back to his almost finished homework__,__ but then, he heard two more taps at the door. _

_He looked through the peephole. Again, he saw nothing._

_Even more confused, he turned back towards his studies once again. _

_Just as he reached his desk he heard one huge knock on his door. _

_"C__'__MON MAN!" Yelled Freddie as he threw the door opens... _

_And nothing. He looked to both sides and saw nothing down the hallways__.__ He looked down to see a box. _

_He picked it up and opened it. _

_"NCAA Basketball 10?"_

_It was EA Sports latest__,__ and according to what people said__,__ final installment of the NCAA basketball franchise. It was a video game series that featured no real names (due to licensing issues), but playbooks were available._

_He looked both ways, once more, in confusion, and he took the game back into his dorm room. He sat on the bed and stared intently at the box. He opened the box and found a post-it note the simply read__…_

_Play this game, and it should help knowledge wise, just choose UW. _

_Good Luck, you're going to need it. _

_RJ_

A week had passed since then, and if he wasn't practicing on the court or dealing with school, he was playing that game. Getting the basics of each game-plan that was available to him. Offensive game-plans, defensive game plans; he was taking in as much in as he could.

He began to feel more and more confident. He was eager to get back on the court and resume his training.

But as he watched another ball bounce in and out of the rim, his confidence began to wane once again.

He released a big sigh as he tried another shot from beyond the three point line.

He looked back absent mindedly but did a double take when he saw who was sitting in the stands. Sam Puckett and the rest of her volleyball team were watching him. What stood out to Freddie the most, however, was that Sam didn't wear any smug look. There was no smirk. There was no evil grin. Instead she looked thoughtful; comprehensive; as if she were appraising him.

That constant paranoia that he seemed to have had ever since the day he first encountered Sam Puckett started to flow in. However, as he set himself for another three point shot he felt a certain rhythm. From the placement of his feet, to the bend of his knees, to the flick of his wrist, all the way to the follow through, It was something that he'd never felt before.

Similarly, the sight of the ball going through the hoop, and the swoosh-like sound of the net, was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

Sure, he'd made goals before, but somehow, this one was felt more official. More…

Satisfying.

Knowing that he'd made that sound happen, Freddie couldn't hold back the smirk from his face. But as he absent mindedly looked around the gym he spotted Sam once again. Same thoughtful face, same lack of smugness.

That smirk fell from his face as quickly as it appeared. "I can make this again," mumbled Freddie to himself, as he took another ball that was on the bag beside him. He tried to replicate the same motion he had before, but the sounds of metal connecting with rubber that came across his ears.

Then, the clapping of Sam Puckett commenced.

"Bravo, Bravo" She yelled from her seat in the bleachers.

Freddie groaned and lifted his head towards the sky.

Sam smirked and trudged on, "It is an amazing sound, the sound of a basketball clanging off the rim. You should make a band of that ya know?"

"Sam, leave me alone." Freddie stated as he prepared for another shot. He tried to run through the steps in his mind but they were all a mixed up. He didn't jump high enough, his release was off and the ball missed the entire rim.

"Of Course," Sam says as she made her way over to him, "Silence is just as good!"

"Sam," Freddie groaned, "If you're having practice here, I'll leave."

"No, its fine, I enjoy watching you fail!"

Freddie sighed, "Then I'll take my leave, before yours starts..."

Freddie was going to take his ball bag and walk back to his dorms, but as he reached for his ball bag, Sam took one of the balls. She quickly set her feet, made her leap, and flicked her hand; throwing the ball up toward the hoop. The sound of ball going through net was heard throughout the gym.

"Like that sound, don't ya?"

Freddie just sighed.

"I bet you can't do that consistently." Freddie turned around towards Sam with a curious eyebrow raised.

"Are you sure you want to go there Benson?" Sam said, as she was face to face with Freddie with determined eyes on him.

Freddie thought for a moment, "I think so Puckett, a game of 21. We play at that court outside of Bushwell, either today after your practice, or tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, I don't have practice, so I can have full energy. That way, I'll be able to truly kick the chizz out of you Fredwina!"

"If I win, you have to go a whole week saying nice things about me!"

"Okay Freddie," Sam said as she was nodding, "But, if I win, I feel an 'All You Can Eat Buffet' coming on!"

"Dea-"

"WAIT!" Sam interrupted. "At two, different, restaurants!"

"SAM!"

"We have a deal, or not?" Sam spits in her hand and puts that same hand towards Freddie in a hand shaking gesture.

Freddie thought about it for a while and slowly extends his hand out to hers. he grasps it with a wet hand.

Freddie grimaced, "Why Spit on your hands Sam?"

"Because it's a promise assured, also I have other ways to make promises. " Sam slightly raised her eyebrow.

"Good Point."

"Yeah it is, now clean up your mess so we can practice, Can't have your stench of failure stinkin' up our practice."

Freddie offered up a halfhearted glare and started picking up the basketballs.

He had to do a lot of practicing before the next night.

A/N: SO! Its been awhile again huh? I Promise myself I would finish this story and I will and with some help I have been putting in work on the outline for a long time and that with problems in real life stopped it. But now we have something of a epic ready for you guys so all I can say is...

Stay Tuned!


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