Get Over It

"I think… we should break up."

"What…?"

A sigh. "I just don't want to do this anymore… I realized I don't like you as much as I thought… Maybe I made myself like you a little more because you liked me so much, but I can't just fake it and lead you along. This is for your own good, Freddie."

A sharp pain shot through Freddie's stomach. He felt a knot in his throat as he stared into Carly's brown eyes. "But, Carly… You haven't even given me a chance."

She rolled her eyes to the left, trying to avoid eye contact with him. "Yes, I did, and I just… I don't want this. It's not what I want, and it doesn't feel real. I still like other guys, and I guess I just can't really see you that way."

Freddie's head drooped, his eyes dropping to stare at the floor below him. "Okay."

Carly raised her eyebrows, looking back at him. "So… you understand? I'm not trying to hurt you, Freddie, I just – "

"I get it! Okay? It's over. Fine."

Carly sighed, giving up. She turned and left the iCarly studio, taking the stairs, while Freddie walked across the room and plopped down in a beanbag chair. Just as she had left, the elevator doors opened up to reveal Sam in all of her slacker glory: a bowl of chili in hand, her usual attire on, and a look of complete carelessness on her face. She stepped out of the elevator and into the studio, letting the doors shut behind her. The studio was dim, and she looked around, trying to find Carly. She spotted Freddie sitting in one of the beanbag chairs across the room, alone, in the dark… and looking very gloomy.

"What's up, Fredweird?" she greeted with her usual insult.

Freddie sighed. "Not tonight, Sam… please."

Sam's eyebrows scrunched together, and she carefully set her bowl down on a small table near her, still chewing her last bite. She slowly approached him. "What's wrong with you?"

He turned away. "Nothing."

She smirked. "Whatever. You can't lie to me. C'mon – what is it?"

She heard an exasperated sigh, then a pause, then, "Fine. If you must know… Carly just dumped me."

Sam arched an eyebrow, stepping closer and stopping within a few feet of him, his back still turned to her. "So?"

Freddie narrowed his eyes and spun around, looking up at Sam. "What do you mean, SO?"

She acted nonchalant, her gaze crossing the room before meeting Freddie's brown eyes again. "Uh… What's the big deal? You went out for like, two weeks. So she doesn't like you… Like you didn't know this before?"

Freddie groaned in frustration, angrier now. He stood up and shoved past Sam, walking over to the window and looking out at the city below, alive with the evening life. It only made him more depressed, thinking about all of the people out there being with the person they loved. He wanted that.

Sam turned and waited for a response. When she didn't get one, she spoke up again. "Freddie, seriously… Did you expect her to magically fall in love with you after so long of denying you? It was obvious she only dated you because she was tired of you bugging her about it, and she felt bad for you. She even told me – "

"Shut up, Sam!" he said angrily, his voice rising. "You know, I really don't need to hear this from you right now. All you ever want to do is bring me down – I love her! Okay? I love Carly Shay, and it's a little hard for me to just forget about her or stop loving her!"

Sam was taken aback by his sudden anger, and his sudden confession to her of why he was so angry. Her face fell a little, but she kept her eyes focused on his, seeing the hurt in them. This only made her mad in turn. "Get over it! You can live without her."

Her sudden outburst stabbed Freddie like a knife. He didn't want to hear this. He knew she was only trying to knock some sense into him, but he didn't want it. All he wanted was to brood over his unfulfilled love for Carly for a few days… or weeks… or months.

"How do you know? You don't know how I really feel…"

Suddenly, Sam's warm and surprisingly soft hands grabbed the sides of Freddie's face. She closed her eyes and had her lips on his before he could even blink, let alone comprehend what was happening. But instinct told him to go with it, and so he closed his eyes as well, and leaned into Sam's warmth a little more, kissing back. She tasted like chili and Peppy Cola, but it was a pleasant combination on her lips.

When she finally pulled away, her hands were still on his face, holding him steady and keeping his eyes level with hers. Blue eyes gazed into brown with honesty and some sort of pent-up emotion.

Almost silently, she whispered to him in a soft and surprisingly understanding voice, "I just do…"

einde.