We first got on the topic while discussing "Romeo and Juliet" in English Class. It was fourth period, just before lunch (ham on a pretzel roll), and today our desks were arranged in several groupings of five or six around the classroom. I supported my head on my left hand, ready to fall asleep as soon as our teacher went back behind her computer. In my group was arrogant nerd Charlie, my best friend Carly, the indescribably strange Gibby, and Fredward. Honestly, I don't know how you'd describe the last one.

Mrs. Clemens, was the type of teacher that expected way too much from a group of tenth graders who couldn't really care less about English literature. Her constant essays and detailed assignments did nothing to improve our poor opinion of her. I usually didn't bother to pay attention. I couldn't really take the time to worry about my grades. I let Carly and Freddie catch me up when they drifted into the Cs and Ds. Today, she started the class off by posing the question: "Do you think Romeo and Juliet were really in love?"

It probably seems like a simple question to most of you out there. But in our class, we repeatedly pointed out that the two naïve young people, who were only about thirteen and twenty (Which was also a kind of creepy age difference) only knew each other for about three days before they committed suicide for each other. One student, Emma, continually said, "I think they are in love with 'being in love' and the drama of it. They only think they're in love."

The answer to Mrs. Clemens' question was simple enough to me. No. They didn't love each other. They were merely delusional and too sheltered to know better. All this stupid 'love' had ever given me was crushed dreams and tears.

The classroom burst into quiet discussion. "Wait, before you decide the answer to that question, we need to know something else." Mrs. Clemens adjusted her glasses and glanced out at us. "What is the definition of love? I would like each of you to come up with your own personal definitions and then discuss it with your group members and come up with a final definition. We'll write each one on the chalkboard afterward."

I sighed and pushed my blond hair out of my face. Love. I loved my friends. Sometimes, when she wasn't being impossible, I loved my mother. But Mrs. Clemens was looking for romantic love. I thought of my past boyfriends. I definitely didn't love Jonah or Pete or anyone, really. How was I really supposed to know?

Finally, I scrawled something I remembered reading once in one of Carly's cheesy chick lit books. "Love is when you believe you can't live without someone else, and if they ever left, you wouldn't be the same without them." The definition sounded a whole lot like Juliet, who actually killed herself after losing Romeo. Whatever.

A few minutes later, everyone in our group was finished writing, and we began to share our definitions.

Charlie began. He pushed his glasses up his nose and said, "Love is the release of chemicals like serotonin and dopamine in the brain, causing strong feelings of lust and attraction." He sat back in his chair and looked at us, practically daring us to challenge him.

"Well, you can't argue with the facts," Freddie said, dryly. He raised an eyebrow and rolled his brown eyes.

Carly, however, vehemently disagreed. "Well, you can disagree with the facts if they're wrong." Carly, who still dreamed of fairy tales and love at first sight, was obviously steamed by this definition. She crossed her arms and pouted. Then she glanced over at Freddie, obviously looking for him to back her up, but he didn't say anything. She didn't bother to look at me, because she already knew how I felt about this love thing.

I didn't say anything. Charlie rolled his eyes. Freddie stared into space blankly. And Gibby was still madly writing on his sheet of paper. It was practically half-filled already.

"Well, I'll go next," Carly said. She took a deep breath and said, "Love is an everlasting feeling of intense positive, passionate emotion that causes nothing else in the world to matter."

Charlie looked like he wanted to reply to that, but instead he bit his lip and said, "How about you, Gibby?"

"I'm not done yet!" cried Gibby, still quickly writing. The chubby boy bit his lip as his hand flew across the paper. I raised my eyebrows and exchanged a look with Freddie.

"Okay, I'll go," said Freddie. He barely hesitated before saying, "Love is a indescribable, unexplainable attraction between two people that causes them to do crazy things all because they can't imagine ever being apart."

I raised my eyebrows at Freddie's definition. I was expecting something closer to Carly's, all sappiness and sugar. I wondered briefly who he was thinking of when he wrote that. I would have assumed Carly, but it didn't sound very much like her. Maybe he'd finally realized she would never return his affections and moved on.

"Okay, guys, I'm ready!" Gibby announced, setting down his pencil with a snap.

"Oh, joy," I said, rolling my eyes.

Gibby inhaled deeply, puffing out his chest. Then he began. "Love is pancakes in the morning when there's no occasion. Love is chocolate left under your pillow just because. Love is rainy Sunday drives in perfect silence. Love is hand-holding in the moonlight. Love is being too scared to make a move because you don't ever want to lose someone. Love is memorizing every aspect of someone's face just in case they ever leave. Love is living for someone else, not for yourself."

When Gibby finished, I swear Carly was tearing up. She wiped at her brown eyes quickly. "Wow," she said. "That was so beautiful, Gibby."

"Thank you, Carly," he replied, smiling.

I stared at the sentence hastily scrawled on my paper and felt instantly bad about it. I actually kind of wished I'd written something I really believed or at least something original. Instead I'd copied a stupid girly novel's definition. I glanced back up and notice that Fredward is looking right at me. "What're you staring at?" I snapped.

"Your turn," he said, simply after averting his eyes towards his feet. It was strange. Fredward had been acting oddly all week.

I sighed and finally spit it out. "Love is when you believe you can't live without someone else, and if they ever left, you wouldn't be the same without them." I flipped over my paper to hide my embarrassment. I didn't like talking about love in front of my friends. Or anyone for that matter. "There."

"Come on, Sam, it's not that bad," Carly said. "Love is love."

"Whatever," I snapped. "No one's ever going to love me. Love doesn't even exist. It's just an excuse to get some."

She stared at me. "Sam. We're in a school environment."

"All the more reason to tell the truth," I replied.

"Okay, guys, let's get back on task," said Freddie, always the goody-two-shoes. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he ignored it. I kind of wished he'd acted all offended like he usually did. What was up with him? "So, what should our final definition be?"

"Well," Carly said. "I like Gibby's the best, but I don't think it's quite what Mrs. Clemens is looking for. She wants like a dictionary definition."

"That's okay. I let my heart speak, and that's all that matters," Gibby said. He gave Carly a meaningful look, and I shuddered. I realized that I'd instantly glanced over at Freddie. He also seemed a little confused and perhaps a bit disgusted. Oh, poor Freddie. Now he has to compete with a shirtless potato as well as nearly every other boy in school for Carly's affections.

"I think my definition is the most fool-proof. The others could be easily argued with," Charlie offered, nodding eagerly.

"No. We're not talking about chemicals in the brain. We're talking about deep, human emotion," Carly said, giving Charlie a serious glare.

"Whatever," he said, backing off. He squinted a bit and sunk down in his chair, disappointed.

"So, Freddie, which one do you like?" asked Carly, looking straight at him. I saw him stiffen in his seat immediately, and he sat a little taller and straightened his t-shirt under her gaze.

"Well, I like mine. Because it's, you know, mine." He paused and looked kind of uncomfortable. "And, well, that's what I think love is," he muttered, softly.

"Fine. We'll use yours," I said, loudly. "So that maybe you can stop mumbling and acting all awkward."

"Sam, what's gotten into you today?" asked Carly.

"I don't know. PMS, whatever."

A few minutes later, Carly and I were discussing possible iCarly segments. I was feeling a lot less grumpy at that point. I offered a few new ideas for random debates, and she eagerly described a great video sent in by some fans that I just had to see. Then, Mrs. Clemens directed us to write our definitions on the board. Freddie got up out of his chair and wrote down his sentence is neat print in dusty white chalk.

I studied the other definitions. Most of the rest were sappy, stupid definitions that made love seem like the only thing worth living for in the world. But I for one knew that many things were more worthwhile than love. Ham, for example. Fat cakes were another one. At least, they don't ever let you down, abandon you, or pretend to be something they aren't.

Mrs. Clemens read over the definitions and pointed out the similarities between them. Indescribable, pure, and trust were all used more than once.

"So, now I would like you to discuss with your group members whether or not Romeo and Juliet were in love. Go ahead," said Mrs. Clemens. She then returned to desk and her papers.

"Yes, they were in love," said Carly, immediately. "They died for each other. You don't just die for a random acquaintance. They loved each other."

"I respectfully disagree," answered Charlie. "I know how mercurial the teenage mind can be, and I don't believe their mutual suicides were anything more than out of whack hormones and raging adrenaline. Also, I don't believe that they knew each other long enough for the dopamine and other chemicals to kick in."

"Well," Gibby began, thoughtfully. "I think they liked each other a lot, but they're dead... and not real, so we can't really ask them how they felt. But I'm gonna side with Carly on this one."

I jumped in then. "They weren't in love. They knew each other for, like, four days. You can't fall in love with someone in less than a week!"

"I thought you didn't think love existed," Freddie said, suddenly. He looked straight at me, and I quickly averted my eyes from meeting his steady gaze. For some reason, my cheeks felt hot. Maybe I was getting sick. "I don't believe in it. But, theoretically, I think if love was real then it would take time."

"Theoretically? That's a big word for you."

"I'm not stupid, you know," I barked.

"And how long exactly would say love would take if it, theoretically, existed?"

"I don't know." I paused, before saying, "For it to be real, I'd say at least a year." I shrugged then. "So, at least you get to know them a little."

"All right then," Freddie said. "Well, it's my humble opinion that no, Romeo and Juliet were not in love. Sam's right. They didn't know each other. They didn't know each other's favorite colors or quirks or anything really. Romeo probably wouldn't even have noticed Juliet if she wasn't beautiful. Basically, they were attracted to each other and that's it."

He agreed with me? I reached across my desk and pressed my hand against his forehead. He twitched away in surprise. "Nope. No fever," I said. I leaned back in my seat again. "Well, I guess we're in agreement 3 to 2 for not being in love."

Carly sighed loudly. "You guys are impossible," she said to me, Freddie, and Charlie while rolling her eyes. "None of you have a romantic bone in your bodies."

At that point, Mrs. Clemens had made her way to the front of the classroom, and we all shared our findings.

After last period, History, I walked back to my locker to grab my jacket and leave. Spring was creeping up slowly but surely. Soon I wouldn't even need it anymore. Freddie was already there at his locker beside mine.. He was all packed up, but he wasn't leaving.

"Hey, Fredward. What's up?" I asked, starting to unlock my locker.

"Nothing." He waited a few seconds while I unzipped my backpack to stuff in my windbreaker to continue. "English was interesting today."

"You could say that. I'd call it painful, but whatever floats your boat."

"You said some interesting stuff. Do you really think love isn't real?" He was looking at me steadily again. Why did he keep doing that? I really wasn't that big a fan of complete and total eye contact. It made me feel awkward. And the dork really shouldn't make me feel awkward.

"How many times to I have to say it? Love's fake. It's just made up for the purpose of Disney movies and romance novels."

"So, you're saying every happy couple in the world is just lying?"

"I'm saying they're all delusional. A lucky few of us are too smart to ever fall in love."

"And you're one of them?"

"Maybe I'm not a math genius, but I'm smart enough to protect my heart. I don't want to end up like you. Constantly laying yours out there for Carly to stomp on." I was ready to leave so I started towards the door, hoping he wouldn't follow. But of course, there he was directly behind me.

"Who hurt you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Who made you swear off love? Maybe if you just opened up your mind a little, it would find you."

"Don't be stupid. No one will ever love me."

"Why do you think that? You're only sixteen."

"Every time I think I might have found something, it turns around and ends up being something completely different than I thought. Usually, that means they fall in love with Carly. Whatever. If I have no expectations, no one will never let me down."

"Not everyone's the same."

"That's nice that you think that. So, why are you so convinced that love's real?"

He blushed suddenly, then he shrugged. "I don't know. Someone."

"Someone specifically? Or your mythical soul mate?"

"Someone specifically."

"Carly?"

"No."

I stopped at once. A new development? "Wh-what do you mean? I thought you loved her since you were a mere sixth grader." He didn't reply. Then he turned away from me and started walking ahead of me.

"Come on, aren't you going to tell me?"

He looked back at me. "Nope. Maybe you'll find out one day."

"What do you mean?" I couldn't help it. I was really curious about Freddie's new crush. I wondered if it was one of those cheerleaders he was always staring at. If so, it could make a really embarrassing prank someday. A smile crept up to my lips with just the thought of it.

"It's like Gibby said. Love is being too scared to make a move because you don't ever want to lose someone." His voice was serious, a little sad.

"Well, I don't believe in love, but if I was you... I'd suck it up and make a move. Because if you don't then you'll never know, and you're gonna regret it the rest of your life."

"You're right. I know you're right."

"So what are you waiting for?"

"I don't know. The slightest hint that maybe she likes me back."

"Ask her. Text her. Whatever. Okay, I'm going to stop giving advice now. I'm useless at it."

"Oh, you're not so bad," he said. "See you tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah. Bye, Fredward."

A few minutes later as I was walking towards my apartment, my phone rang, signaling a new text. I pulled it out of my jean's pocket and slid it open. That was when I nearly dropped my phone. The text said: So here it goes. My move. Do you like me? Please don't kill me. It was your advice after all. It was from Freddie.

Then I heard a sound from behind me. I spun around to face it. There he was, brown eyes wide as he watched me.

"Following me, huh?" I asked, tone light. But my voice was quivering with nerves. My stomach felt like it was twisted all around. I could hardly believe it. I never thought... But as I thought over it, the signs were there, as much as I ignored him. His strange behavior, the constant looks, the petty fights. Maybe I should have known. Well, now I did. And I had absolutely no idea what to do with the information but stand there, shaking.

"So, what's the answer?" he asked, bracing himself for the blow.

I stared at him, wondering the same thing. The question had crossed my mind a few times before now. The time we kissed and a few others too. But I'd always brushed it off. Because he was in love with Carly, and love was hopeless anyway. But now... What was I supposed to do?

"I... don't know," I whispered.

"Oh. Okay. I guess I should go then. Feel free to forget this ever happened." His eyes flew towards the ground, and he turned on his heel and took the first few steps away from me.

"Wait," I said suddenly. "I don't know yet, but I think we should give it a fair shot." I barely knew where the words came from. They rushed out of my mouth, but surprisingly, I don't think I regretted him. They were true. Maybe it was the right decision. Maybe.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah, maybe lunch on Saturday. If it has good ham."

"It will. I promise."

"Well... I'll see you then. Bye, Freddie."

"Bye, Sam." He smiled at me, and I felt a strange, indescribable feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know what I was doing, but for a few seconds at least, I didn't care.

Author's Note

So, this one-shot was inspired by an actual discussion in my English class. I thought later that maybe "love doesn't exist" would be Sam's viewpoint, so I wrote a short little story around it. It's my first fan-fiction, but I love writing and have forever. This is my first story I've submitted, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Please, review! I have a bunch of other ideas for stories coming soon. Thanks for reading!