Chapter 1: iHam&Jealousy (updated spelling and grammar)
A/N: I am going back through and doing my best to edit the spelling and grammar in each chapter and then drum roll... I plan to finally finish this book with a few more chapters. :)
On an otherwise typical Friday, I strolled toward class when suddenly, amidst the bustling crowd, I heard my name, "BENSON!" Dread washed over me as I recognized the voice—it was Sam. Instantly, my mind raced with thoughts and scenarios, attempting to pinpoint the reason for her potential anger. "Oh no," I muttered under my breath, drawing odd looks from passersby as I performed an awkward dance, bouncing from one foot to the other, deliberating my next move. Time seemed to halt as I hesitated, but before I could react, a gust of wind swept past me, and Sam's signature bouncing blonde curls crashed into me. We both flew to the ground, my trusty "nerd" backpack cushioning our fall. As the shock subsided, I found myself entangled with Sam, her discomfort evident as she squirmed beneath me. Hastily, I released my grip on her, a move I immediately regretted, granting her arms the freedom to bash my face in if she wanted to. The shift in her expression, her once bright blue eyes darkening to a deep navy, which I've come to discover means bad things for the person causing the glare.
"What the hell Sam?" I questioned.
"What were you thinking?" Her voice was a controlled growl.
As I tried to push her away to stand up, hoping for a civilized conversation, she clamped down on my wrist with surprising force.
"Sam, OW!" I yelped in pain.
"Answer the question, Benson," she demanded, her tone sharp.
"I have no clue what you're talking about, Puckett!" I shot back, matching her intensity.
My eyes narrowed in frustration, reflecting her darkening mood.
"You. Know. Exactly. What. I'm. Talking. About," she said, jabbing a finger into my chest. Her hand lingered there, and I instinctively grabbed her wrist.
"Will you stop? Look, Sam, I'm completely clueless about what's got you so worked up. And frankly, I don't have time for your games today. Just tell me why you're angry so we can talk it out." I paused, attempting to salvage the situation.
"BENSON! Shut up! You ate my ham. All of it. This morning at Carly's. I had NONE to console in!" Her accusation echoed loudly.
"I DID NO SUCH THING! I WASN'T even at Carly's this morning!" I retorted, starting to raise my voice before reigning it in, wary of potential trouble.
"I know, but it's still YOUR fault!" She declared defiantly, chin held high.
"What... NO! UGHH!" I sighed heavily, exasperated. "You know what? FINE. It's my fault, whatever, I have to go." Irritation bubbled within me at her audacity to pin this on me. I gently nudged her aside, mindful not to cause harm. Despite harboring resentment towards Sam, I could never bring myself to harm her; it just wasn't how I was raised. Yet, there remained a small part of me that still cared for her. As I walked away, I sensed her glare boring into my back, refusing to dignify it with a glance back. The tension hung thick in the air, and I could almost feel her hoping her glare would ignite me in flames. My suspicions were confirmed when she screamed after me.
"THIS ISN'T OVER BENSON!"
SAMS POV:
As he strode away, a pang shot through my heart, a strange longing for him to stay, to engage in our usual bickering. He never caved in that easily! But it's BENSON, for crying out loud. Stupid heart, you really need to cut that out. Deep down, I knew Fredweird didn't touch the ham this morning—it was me. Yet, I felt compelled to pick a fight with him, to revel in causing him pain, because it meant being near him. He's the only guy besides my dad who's ever been brutally honest with me, and I craved that truthfulness. Sometimes, being around Freddie felt like having my dad by my side... God, Sam, quit thinking of Fredbag like that!
"Sam?" A male voice interrupted my thoughts, though disappointingly not the one I wanted to hear. "Are you okay?"
"What... oh... hey Brad, yeah, I'm good," I replied.
"Alright, good! You were staring down the hallway like you'd lost your dog and realized it was never coming back... or something." He chuckled awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. Thanks a lot, Brad, I thought.
"Nah, just... lost in thought about... ham," I lied.
"Oh! Got it," he nodded, visibly relieved.
"Yep," I forced a smile, knowing Freddie would have seen through my lie.
"HEY! While I've got you... I was wondering if you'd... maybe like to... grab a smoothie after school?" His cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Yeah, Brad, sure!" I replied with fake enthusiasm, plastering on another forced smile.
"REALLY? Okay!" His excitement was clear, making me feel guilty for faking my emotions. But truthfully, I was hoping to play the high school girl game and stir up some jealousy in Freddie. I pay attention to Carly when she talks, I just don't let her know I do. It's not like I need Freddie to be jealous, or want him to be... I'd never take him back... right? Haha... who am I kidding? Okay, I'm lying.
"Yeah, I'm gonna go to class..." I chuckled to myself as I walked away, Freddie still on my mind, Jesus Puckett, get it together.
"Okay! See you after school, Sam!" Brad's enthusiasm came off him in waves and I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy of his clear emotions while mine were a tangled mess.
It had only been about a month since Freddie and I broke up in that stupid elevator. It plagued my thoughts every night, leaving me sleepless. I'd started avoiding the elevator altogether, but Freddie was the only one who seemed to notice. Why couldn't we have broken up on the stairs? I'm lazy, and I'd much rather avoid the stairs than the elevator... Oh, Sam, talking to yourself in your head again, I thought, laughing out loud at my own absurdity, earning a strange look from a passing freshman. So I decided to play it up, pounding my chest and taunting, "Come at me, bro!" The freshman fled, and I relished in the satisfaction.
After school, Brad was supposed to meet me at my locker. I sensed his approach when Carly began slapping my shoulder repeatedly, squealing, "He's coming, HE'S COMING!" in her high-pitched voice.
"SHAY..." I hissed at her, feeling embarrassed.
Meanwhile, Freddie was shoving stuff in his locker, and a note fell out, adorned with pink, cursive handwriting that I didn't recognize. It read "Freddie," with the "i" dotted with a heart. I swiftly snatched it up before he could grab it.
"SAM! Give it back!" he demanded.
"What's this, Freddie with a heart? A LOVEEEEE note?" I teased, elongating the word 'love' in a girly voice.
"Come on, Sam, give it back!" He sounded irritated.
"Make me," I declared firmly, stepping closer to him, I intended to unsettle him or possibly just have an excuse to invade his space, I wasn't entirely sure. Either way, he clearly wasn't pleased with my motives as his eyes narrowed. He then caught me off guard as he uttered a single word.
"Gladly," he smirked, sending a shiver down my spine.
YOU ARE READING
iBeautifulDisaster
FanfictionIt's Senior year for the iCarly's, what happens when Freddie gets tired of hiding his newfound strength and gets a FTW attitude? Can one trip to VEGAS change everything? What if he FINALLY has a chance to be with Carly but might just want to be with...
