You're all hanging out together, so there's no way you can mention the events of the previous night. Spencer and Freddie are most definitely not in the loop on this game you seem to be playing with Sam as of late, and you prefer it that way. Still, the way she's curled into your side and sharing your blanket keeps everything fresh in your brain.

House On Haunted Hill plays on the TV, but you've hardly paid attention to it. You've always thought it was more gross than scary anyway. Sam, however, is enraptured by it. Her eyes stare deep into the TV, wide and unblinking. She jumps at all the right parts and laughs at the more disturbing scenes. Its one of the things you love about her: all of the contradictions in her behavior.

One of the things you don't love about her so much right now is the hand she's got drawing circles on your inner thigh. Mostly because you aren't really sure why she's doing it. Shouldn't she have shown up last night if she wanted your attention this way? But she did show up last night. She just didn't stick around. Those were more important questions: how did she get into the house and why did she leave so soon? Even if nothing had happened, you were still friends and she could have spent the night after coming so far. But she had just left a note and taken off. What was up with that?

"Sam," You're leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"What?" She replies distractedly.

"Could I speak to you for a minute? Alone?"

"But Carly!" She whines. "This is the best part."

"This is the worst part." You correct. "Please?"

"Fine."

Spencer and Freddie's eyes are both glued to the two of you as you meander out of the room. Sam drags her feet and pouts like a small child being dragged out of the candy store the whole way.

Once in your room, though, she plops down on your bed and grins at you in a totally innocent but in the know way. "Sup, good buddy?"

You roll your eyes. "I think you know what I want to talk about."

"I'm pretty sure I don't." She denies, crossing her feet at the ankle. "Enlighten me."

"About last night."

"What about last night?"

"You said you were coming over."

"I did come over."

"What you did was a B and E. I didn't even see you."

"You weren't supposed to."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Just because."

"Sam!" You exclaim, feeling more flustered than you should. "Could you just give me a couple answers? I'm just trying to figure out what's going on in your head."

She rubs her lips together and looks around. She shrugs. "I don't know what to tell you."

"It doesn't have to be big or anything." You shrug, moving closer to her. "Just clue me in a little, okay?"

"That's the problem." She tells you. "There's nothing to clue you in on."

"You're saying you keep calling me at midnight every night to have this… weird conversation and leave notes on my bed for no reason at all?"

She nods. "Yep."

You drop down onto the bed next to her. "I never thought this day would come."

"What day?"

"The day you started lying to me." You fold your legs Indian style and turn to face her.

"I'm not lying to you."

"Oh, please. I get that you enjoy messing with people, but you never mess with me. Never. And this is how you're going to start? By coming on to me in the middle of the night?"

Her expression is easy to read: she doesn't want to talk about this. But you want to talk about it so badly, you don't care.

"I'm not coming on to you." She finally mumbles, turning to face you.

"Then what are you doing?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Nothing."

You roll your eyes. "Right."

She's biting her lip. "Did you want me to be?"

You hesitate before answering, "What if I do?" Her eyes widen. "What if I want you? What if I just want you to want me? I don't freaking know! You know why?"

She shakes her head. "Why?"

"Because normally I'd discuss this with my best friend! But what is she doing?"

"Hitting on you in the middle of the night." Sam fills in obediently.

"Exactly. So what do I do?"

She shrugs, honestly looking lost this time. "I don't know."

"You see? This was all I could come up with."

"This talk?"

"No, this."

You kiss her then. Its forced and your teeth sting behind your smooshed lips, but you are still pretty sure it is the right decision. Neither of you shut your eyes, which is odd because that's what everyone on TV does. Instead, you stare at each other, watching her pupils dilate and trying to figure out what she's thinking. You finally pull back after a few minutes of intense eye and lip contact, hoping for her to say something, but she doesn't.

"Well, what do you think?" Your words are shaky even though you cleared your throat and smoothed your hair in an attempt to relax.

She rubs her lips together and her eyes dart back and forth between her right knee and your face. "A little painful." She finally says.

You feel like crying for no reason at all, but you don't because you are better than that. Maybe. "Painful?" You exclaim.

"Well, you kind of smashed our heads together. Very painful."

You drop your head, ashamed. All of that confidence that had allowed you to drag Sam off to your bedroom earlier is gone. "Sorry." You mumble uncertainly.

"Just try it a little softer." Her hand skates along your jaw until your lips meet hers once more and it's so much better than last time.

This kiss actually feels good and whatnot. Which yours had all the makings of but- screw it. That kiss was a success only in the fact that it led to this one. This delicate pressing together that has her body edging closer to yours and her fingers curled into your dark locks is ten times better than the one you initiated.

A knock on your door and, "Carly?" Have you throwing yourself across the room from Sam.

"What?" You shout, a little louder than necessary,

Freddie enters then, completely oblivious to the messed hair and bed and reddened lips. "Movie's over." He informs, popping a squat at your desk like you had invited him in. Normally, Freddie doesn't get on your nerves. You even enjoy him. But now…

"Oh, really? How'd it end?" You inquire politely while your insides writhe in anger.

He gives you a look that says his mom would kill him if he ever dared to give away the ending to a movie. "My mom would kill me if I ever dared to give away the ending of a movie. You'll just have to watch it yourself."

"Oh, right." You respond.

Sam remains on your bed with her feet planted firmly into the floor. Her fingernails are clearly trying to pop off her own kneecaps and she stares at her shoes. You might not be willing to say anything after what had happened before Freddie had barged in, but the boy had no such holdups.

"What's wrong with you?" He throws at her.

She shakes her head, not moving her focus from her shoes. "Nothing. Your face just reminded me that I shouldn't have had that last helping of mashed potatoes and gravy."

"Right." He raises his eyebrows. "So what do you guys want to do now?"

"I don't know…" You say, glancing pointedly at the clock. "Its kind of late. I think Sam and I are going to bunk down for the night."

"I'm spending the night?" Her eyes are wide and wild, centered in on you, jumping to her feet. She sits back down nonchalantly. "I mean, of course I'm spending the night."

Freddie acknowledges this little exchange, but shrugs it off easily. "That's cool. Can I at least stay for dinner? Spencer is making spaghetti tacos."

"You should spend the night too." Sam throws out there. "We were just talking about how awesome it would be to have a celebratory iCarly cast and crew sleep over."

You wish Sam would make eye contact with you so you could glare at her. "We were?"

"We were." Sam confirms, still looking at Freddie. "I know your mother would be against it, but Spencer will be there and we're all sleeping in the living room."

"We are?" You say.

"We are." She nods.

His eyes drift as he considers. "My mom might not be too against that. She'd probably want to sleep over too, even though we live right across the hall-"

"That's fine!" Sam exclaims. "The more the merrier!"

Freddie hops to his feet, clearly excited. "Great. I'll go ask her."

As soon as he is out the door, you are back on the bed next to Sam. "What the hell are you doing?"

She finally meets your eyes, feigning innocence. "Celebrating iCarly?"

"Look, I'm sorry I kissed you. You don't have to invite Freddie and his mom over in order to get me to back off. I get the message." You sigh, standing.

"I'm not sorry." She says, standing too. "I just freaked out in the moment. Don't you ever do that?"

"Well…"

"Give me a chance here, Carly. I've never done something like-" she waves her hand back and forth between you, "- this before. It feels weird."

"Yay." You say in a monotone. "I make you feel weird."

She laughs. "No, it's not like that. I just need a little time to breathe and think about this."

"And you had to invite Freddie and his mom to spend the night to do that?"

Sam frowns painfully at you. "Yeah, I didn't really consider the repercussions of my crimes in the midst of committing them."

You grin at her and rejoice in the fact that she smiles back. "So what happened before Freddie came in was cool with you?"

She kisses your forehead and pats your hair. "Sure, cupcake."

"Sam…"

This time she kisses you slow and solid with her tongue tracing your bottom lip.

"Yeah. I'm cool with this."