iDon't have a problem
"Tune in tomorrow when Sam and I see who can eat the most barbecue ribs while hanging upside down from a tire swing!"
"Many thanks in advance to our own Fredward here for providing the spare," motioned Sam as she playfully rubbed his belly and smiled into the camera.
Freddie stared at her mortified. This had definitely been about a million times worse than the time when she had revealed to all of their viewers that he had never been kissed.
"And cut!" Spencer called, who had been holding the camera for Freddie.
"Great show guys," replied Carly, as she hugged her two best friends, "you hungry? Spence could you whip up some spaghetti tacos?"
"Sure thing little sister!"
While Spencer disappeared downstairs and Carly and Sam were huddled together discussing the show, Freddie stood frozen in the same spot, a look of absolute horror and defeat still etched onto his face. He couldn't believe Sam had said what she did on the air, he shouldn't have been so surprised but it's just that it had been so out of the blue.
Did Sam really think he was fat? Did Carly? Did iCarly viewers?
Freddie had never really considered himself fat before, sure he had a little bit of baby pudge leftover from his prepubescent years but nothing that a little dieting and exercise couldn't take care of, but had he been wrong? Was everyone else seeing something that he couldn't?
"Freddie?" called Carly, "you okay?"
"Fine," he mumbled, "just great."
"Oh come on Freddie..." began Sam, "you know I was just joking about the spare tire right? What would our viewers think if I suddenly started being nice to you? They like it when I tease you."
Freddie remained silent and stared down at his feet and noticed that his stomach hung ever so slightly over the waistband of his pants. No wonder Sam had made the comment about his "spare tire," clearly this was her way of telling him that he had gained weight recently.
"I got to go," he replied quickly, already thinking of his excuse knowing that the girls would question him.
"But Freddie," started Carly, following him downstairs, "Spencer is making spaghetti tacos! You love spaghetti tacos!"
"I know but I forgot that my mom was making dinner tonight...she wants me to meet her new boyfriend. See you guys tomorrow."
Carly and Sam exchanged puzzled glances only to shrug and go back to discussing the show.
Freddie walked to his apartment, unlocked the door and entered, it was dark and empty. He immediately walked to the fridge and opened it up. There had to be something in there healthy enough for him to eat but when he didn't see anything appetizing he closed the fridge with a sigh and retreated to his room. Before he went to bed that night Freddie vowed that tomorrow would be the start of a new day and that he would completely change his lifestyle. His goal was to eat healthier, spend more time exercising and less on his computer and to lose about ten pounds. He began to wonder if maybe that's why Carly didn't like him. When he thought about it all of the guys Carly had been interested in before had been thin. He knew it would be hard but he would somehow find a way to stick to the plan.
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The first week was by far the most difficult. Every piece of "forbidden" food he came across was calling out for him to eat and he wanted to but he had a plan he had to stick to. He didn't want to be weak, he didn't want to fail before he even had a chance to start. He came home from school and the first thing he did was throw everything away that was even remotely fattening, he then wrote out a list of groceries for his mother to buy and she watched him curiously but did not question him. No more spaghetti tacos, no more chips, candy, pop or smoothies, just a lot of water, some steamed vegetables, a few granola bars here and there and lots of tasteless salads but it was alright, Freddie couldn't complain, sometimes in order to get what you want you have to make sacrifices.
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The second week was a little easier but not by much. He still craved all of the foods that he couldn't have but continued to stick with the plan and he had noticed little differences, the type of differences that only he could see. He noticed that aside from losing three and a half pounds, he had more energy and he felt healthier, which made him happier. He decided that rather than coming home and getting on his computer or running straight to Carly's that he would incorporate a little exercise into his daily routine and began to jog around the neighborhood, which Freddie had never been a fan of exercise but it wouldn't kill him to be more active, in fact, it could only benefit him in good ways. He was already beginning to feel better about himself and most importantly he felt as if he had finally taken control over his life.
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The third week was a cinch, by now he didn't even have the urge to rip whatever food Sam waved in front of his face out of her hands and shove into his mouth. Carly showered him with compliments about how proud she was of him for sticking to his new health kick and even suggested doing it with him, but deep down he didn't want her to because this was his plan, his goal, his glory, and he didn't feel like having it swiped away from him before he even had a chance to get some real results. Of course, Sam teased him about how much of a 'girl' he was being about this whole thing. Freddie watched her day after day as she put all kinds of atrocities into her mouth, cheese fries, pizza, chips, candy, popcorn all guzzled down with an extra large sugary slushy- she was one to talk- after all, he was the one with the control, he was the one with the ability to turn away all of those sinful delicacies that had so fruitfully tempted him for years without a single regret.
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The sixth week was when he reached, or actually overshot his goal by an additional five pounds, he had originally only wanted to lose ten but seeing how amazing he felt he imagined he could only feel and look better if he kept going so he figured he would aim for twenty, which at this point he was only five pounds away from and would be there in no time. He began to notice that girls he would have classified as 'out of his league' were slowly starting to notice him, they looked at him when he walked down the hallway, smiled at him even, had he been that fat just six weeks before to where he wasn't even remotely interesting to the opposite sex? Had he been that unappealing? That unaware of how his lazy, slobbish ways had transformed him into someone completely undesirable? But no matter how many other girls noticed him it failed to make a dent in his confidence because the one girl he wanted to notice was distracted with more important things, but who could blame her? She had a life, whereas he just happened to be a part of it. He had no life of his own other than threading himself into hers, so desperately clinging on to a childish dream that if he were smart he would have abandoned, but he wasn't ready to give that up, not yet.
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The eighth week he was working around such a busy schedule that aside from shooting iCarly he barely had time for Carly or Sam, let alone enough time to eat- which was fine with him- in fact, the busier he made himself the less he thought about food. He buried himself in his homework and made a new goal for himself, to earn nothing less than an A minus in every class. He was also running laps around the neighborhood everyday and had also begun to fence everyday. He was feeling more in control of his life now than ever before and the only thing that could possibly make things better for him would be for Carly to realize that he was doing this for her, well not completely for her but he wanted her to see how put together he could be, how successful and desirable he could be if he simply applied himself, but at the same time he wanted his distance from her, he needed his privacy, he needed his own life and his own identity aside from being 'Carly's friend'.
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The eleventh week was when things began to unravel through the ill fated course of 'too good to be true,' his moods began to change drastically to the point where Sam made comments about his 'PMS,' he was beginning to feel isolated and depressed, the only thing that made him happy was when the needle of the scale went down another pound and even that happiness was only temporary. By now he had lost another twelve pounds and people were beginning to make comments, and none of them were good. His attempts to conceal his shrinking figure with baggy layers hadn't gone unnoticed and anyone who confronted him was met with a sharp glare followed by a shot of venom that rolled off his tongue as he denied that there was anything wrong. It was no one's business that he was losing weight, it was no one's business about what he chose to eat or not to eat, it was his life and right now he seemed to be the only one with any control over one.
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The twelfth week his mother sat him down one day after school, she had tears in her eyes and suggested that he go see a doctor, he refused telling her that there wasn't a problem. She pleaded, bribed and threatened but he fought her until she silently surrendered, retreating to her room without another word. He had won, he was in control. Sam had stopped cracking her usual jokes and instead just stared at him sadly during commercial breaks, he could have sworn he saw tears on the verge of falling from her eyes but when he looked again any trace of tears were gone. Carly had threatened to fire him from iCarly if he didn't agree to see a doctor and he just laughed, he didn't need iCarly! He didn't need Carly or Sam- he didn't need anyone- he had everything he needed all in the convenience of his own mind, he had a plan- a plan he had followed through with for months- a plan that was leading him down the road towards absolute perfection.
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The fifteenth week he fainted live on iCarly and awoke in the hospital surrounded by his mother, Carly, Sam and Spencer, they were all crowded around his bed, their eyes full of sadness. He couldn't understand why they looked so sad, it wasn't as if he had died but the overall mood of the room made it feel as if someone had. His mother kept kissing his head and began to stroke his hair like she used to when he was a little boy. Carly and Sam hugged him as if they hadn't seen him in months and Sam eventually had to leave the room because she couldn't hold in her tears any longer and didn't want him to see tough Sam Puckett- who would rather be dead than appear vulnerable- cry. After Carly and Spencer left his mother crawled into bed with him and held him, she gently rocked him and cried silently to herself as she questioned why this was happening and placed the blame on herself. She begged him to eat just a little but he couldn't, he couldn't eat hospital food, it wasn't the least bit appetizing or part of any nutritionally balanced diet, it was all intended for him to gain weight. They all obviously assumed they could trick him and he would fail to realize that they were actually giving him what seemed like ten times the caloric content of a normal meal. He asked his mother to take him home and at first she said no, but then he promised her that if she did he would eat.
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The sixteenth week was difficult, he not only had his mother watching him like a hawk but also Carly, Sam and even Spencer, but luckily he concocted sneaky means to avoid eating and began to effortlessly fool them all. When he was home and his mother was cooking he would go to Carly's to 'eat' and when he was at Carly's he would go back home to 'eat,' and this had worked beautifully for almost the entire week. Eventually they all became suspicious and their fears were confirmed after Spencer found Freddie shoveling his uneaten plate of food into the trash, he shook his head sadly and called Freddie's mother as soon as he left to warn her that he hadn't been eating. When Freddie got home his mother had a plate of food on the table waiting for him- a piece of fried chicken so greasy that Freddie could feel his arteries clogging just staring at it, along with corn on the cob slathered in butter, an enormous dinner roll and mashed potatoes drowned in gravy- she forced him to sit down and threatened that he couldn't leave the table until he cleaned his plate. His mother fell asleep on the couch waiting and Freddie silently picked up his untouched plate and dumped the food in the trash.
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The eighteenth week was miserable. He had been growing weaker for some time but he was afraid to face the reality, the whole point of this thing had been to avoid being weak, to be strong and in control of his life, but lately he had been hit with the overwhelming feeling that he was losing control, that it was slowly falling farther and farther away from him and pulling him along with it into obscurity. He could never admit to anyone that he needed help- because he didn't- he was still functioning, making good grades, doing iCarly and running and fencing everyday. Could someone who supposedly had a problem do all of these things? It was obvious that everyone else was making something out of nothing, he didn't have a problem, how could he have a problem? He didn't even have time in his schedule for anything to cause a problem in the first place. He was simply taking control of his life, steering himself in a better direction and adapting to a healthier lifestyle. Exercise was healthy, not eating the type of junk that would ultimately shorten your life expectancy was healthy, why couldn't the people around him see it this way?
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The twentieth week he was called into the guidance counselor's office where Carly and Sam sat, avoiding his eyes as he walked in. They were worried about him, they thought that he was anorexic and that he needed help. Freddie had never felt so betrayed, these were his friends- well according to Sam they weren't friends- but Carly he thought he could trust. He was frozen, so many emotions washed over him and he wanted to scream at them, he wanted to run out of the room but he couldn't move. Sam begged him to sit down and talk to them while Carly sat silently, tears streaming down her face. The guidance counselor wanted to talk to Freddie alone and she asked him a bunch of questions that he couldn't answer, he just kept telling her that he was fine, he begged her not to call his mother and promised that he'd start eating and that he wouldn't lose anymore weight and eventually she allowed him to leave. Freddie had successfully told her what she wanted to hear and once again he had won the battle.
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The twenty-fifth week he collapsed on his way to second period and when he awoke he was in the hospital again, his mother beside him, her eyes red, puffy and wet with tears as she stroked his head. Freddie sat up, he had all sorts of tubes coming in and out of him, an IV had been inserted into his hand, pumping him full of liquids and a breathing tube had been inserted through his nose along with a feeding tube that had been inserted into his abdomen. He had the urge to rip them all out and when he reached his hand up to do so his mother grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly, she shook her head firmly.
"No Freddie," she whispered. He wanted to scream, to protest, to convince someone, anyone that he didn't need to be here, that he was fine and that this time he meant it when he said he'd eat. The doctor came in and looked over his chart and pulled his mother out into the hallway, it bothered Freddie that he couldn't hear what they were saying, whatever the doctor had to say he should say it in front of him. His mother finally came back into the room after what seemed like hours to Freddie and sat back down on his bed and without looking at him she sadly informed him, "You are going to have to leave school for a little while..." "Why?" "There's a place you can go to get help...but you are going to have to leave school." "No." "Freddie this isn't a choice." "Yes it is and I'm not going!"
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The twenty-seventh week he had been forced to eat three times a day, sometimes up to six, carefully monitored by the watchful eyes of every nurse in the facility. There was no getting past them, he couldn't fool them and if he lied about eating he lost priviledges and was made to sit until he ate every single last morsel that had been on his plate. He hated it, he hated his mother for making him come here, he hated the nurses for making him eat but most of all he hated himself for getting caught, for surrendering to a single moment of weakness and allowing it to overtake him. The doctor in charge told him he couldn't leave until he gained fifteen pounds and there was no way in hell Freddie was going to agree to this and they couldn't keep him there forever. Someone had to lose and it wasn't going to be him.
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The twenty-eighth week he continued to fight the team of doctors and nurses and was subjected to bed rest and force feeding, he had never felt so vulnerable, so weak and humiliated, the nurses calmly continued to explain to him day after day that they weren't the enemy and that they weren't doing this to try and torture him nor did they get some sick, secret pleasure in it, they were simply trying to help him get better. He didn't believe them.
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The twenty-ninth week he slowly began to work with the team and had begun to eat on his own, although he had to be supervised during all meal times otherwise he still attempted to get rid of his food. His mother came to visit and she told him she was proud of him. Carly and Sam came to visit and they brought him his laptop, they talked about iCarly and showed him the literally hundreds of e-mails their fans had sent voicing their concern for him.
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The thirtieth week Sam came to visit alone, she grabbed hold of Freddie's hand tightly as he slept and tried not to cry. "I'm so sorry Freddie..." she whispered, "if I would have known...I swear...never again...I'll never make fun of you again...and if it means anything...you didn't need to change yourself, I liked you just the way you were." After Sam left Freddie opened his eyes and thought about what she said.
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The fortieth week was a new beginning, he had gained fifteen pounds and was officially being released. He said his goodbyes and got into his mother's car. Most of the ride home was filled with silence, his mother tried forcing a few conversations but they all were either cut short or simply ended awkwardly and unfinished. The tension between he and his mother could be cut with a knife. She didn't know what to say to him or how to act around him. The first thing she had said when she first saw him had been, "You look so much better Freddie," but then she quickly retracted her statement as she remembered the nurses informing her not to say anything along those lines as it could set him back towards a possible relapse. He had responded with, "Which basically means fat right?" His mother had sighed and hustled him to the car.
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The forty-fifth week Freddie returned to iCarly for the first time in months and just as the show was about to wrap up he handed the camera over to Sam, who took it hesitantly and eyed Carly worriedly. "Hello...I've read most of your e-mails and first of all thank you for the concern and second of all I'm sure you've all been wondering where I've been..." he paused and took a deep breath and looked over at two friends who silently mouthed for him to go on. "I uh had a problem...I've been sick...really sick and I just want to assure you all that I'm back and uh that I'm fine now." He paused and was about to signal for Sam to cut until she ended up handing the camera over to a bewildered Carly as she stepped into the shot with Freddie.
"I know we're not really serious a lot of the time on iCarly..." began Sam softly, staring down at the floor, "but I just feel the need to say that Freddie is the most compassionate, loving, friendly, funny and intelligent person I know and he's also the bravest...no matter what I've said about him on the show...or manage to say about him in the future...just remember that he's one of a kind and I feel so lucky to have him in my life." Sam motioned for Carly to cut and Freddie just stared at Sam in shock, his mouth hanging open.
"What?" she asked awkwardly.
"Wow...that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me...and it was on-air!"
"Yeah well...this doesn't mean we're friends or anything..." she continued as Freddie smirked, "but you really scared me...I felt like I was losing you and I don't ever want to feel like that again."
"Who are you and what have you done with Sam Puckett?"
Sam broke into a smile and lightly punched him on the arm. "I mean it Freddie..."
"I know..." he began slowly, "I have a problem and I need you guys to help me get through this."
Carly nodded and set the camera down as she approached her two best friends, putting an arm around either of them.
"We're here Freddie. We'll do anything we can to help you."
Sam thought for a moment before speaking.
"You know what we should do for tomorrow's show? We should make mud pies...I think the low calorie content would appeal to our older demographic and you too Freddie," she teased.
Freddie laughed and rolled his eyes.
It was the first time he had laughed in months and it felt good and it was then when he realized just how much he had missed out on.
"Sounds like a plan," he replied.
"It's good to have you back Freddie," replied Sam.
"Glad to be back," he answered with a smile.
Author's Note: I don't watch iCarly regularly and am a new fan so if anyone seems OOC that would be why. Just randomly came up with the idea for this story one night while I was bored. I seem to have an obsession/fixation with writing ED stories involving guys, which unfortunately you never see/hear enough of. Feel free to leave comments, feedbacks, flames- anything!