March

-

"Hey guys, guys!!"

All three turn around simultaneously.

She's greeted by a "hey Wendy" from Carly, a "sup" from Sam and a "how's it going" from Freddie.

"Well, I just wanted to invite you to my spring birthday bash."

She hands them cream colored envelopes. The light scent of vanilla trails around them.

Carly glances at the cover of the invitation, "Well hey, sweet sixteen, the big one."

She grins, "That's right, it's going to be a big party…well, I should get going, my mom's waiting in the car."

She turns around, walking to the front door, her red hair standing out in the crowd of students blocking the hall way, Ridgeway's queen socialite and gossiper.

"Guys, we should go!" Carly turns to Sam and Freddie.

"I don't know, I thought we always hit up the Groovy Smoothie on Saturday nights."

"Sam, read the invitation."

She tears open the invite and scans the glittery paper, words printed in an elaborate cursive font, her smile growing wider.

"Well…I'm there."

"For the food, am I right?"

She lets out a loud laugh, "You got it ma brotha!!"

-

Carly's squeezing herself into a tight black dress and slipping on black pumps. As specified by Wendy, this party is semi-formal.

Sam lopes in through the bed room door as Carly is carefully applying mascara to her already thick lashes.

"Carls, you don't need mascara, you have great eye lashes already."

"Yes Sam, you tell me this every time, and..."

"You don't listen every time."

Carly directs a friendly eye roll at Sam who grins back.

She throws a quick glance at Sam's outfit. "Nice", she comments. Sam shrugs, heaving her shoulders half heartedly. She scuffs her dirty converse on Carly's bed post and fidgets in her dress.

It's slightly below knee length and tan. Black t-shirt sleeves cover her arms and a shiny patch of studs covers the front of the dress which hangs slightly loose. The skirt flows out, pleated on the sides. It's whimsical and crazy, and she's pulling it off. Her hairs short now, shoulder length with choppy bangs, and it works just as well as the long hair did.

"No Carly, no."

Sam jerks her head away from Carly's incoming mascara brush which she's grown an animalistic wariness of.

"Come on Sam, just once."

"No."

Carly sighs, defeated, and screws the cap of the mascara back on.

"One day Sam, one day."

"You wish Carls, you wish."

It's the same routine every time they have an outing or a party to go to.

"Well, Freddie should be here soon, right?"

"Don't know, don't care."

There's a knock on the door and Sam runs down the stairs, Carly clomping after in her heels. She flings open the door enough time for Freddie to slip in to the apartment and then slams it shut.

"Guys, I think I should wear a different pair of shoes."

Sam and Freddie exchange an eye roll.

"Carly, just wear the ones you're wearing right now."

She hesitates, "Are you sure? Do they look good with my outfit?"

Sam lets out a loud sigh, "The boys are going to eat you up, you're workin' those shoes. You look fine." Freddie nods his head in agreement, "You do Carly, you look great."

Carly smiles at her friends, "Thanks guys."

"Any time."

As they rush out of the door, hurried along by Sam and her insatiable hunger, Freddie pauses and looks at Sam.

No one could pull of that dress but Sam he think when he sees it, and it's the truth.

"Nice dress Puckett."

"Pretty bad ass isn't it Benson. I'm a professional."

He laughs because he always laughs when he's around her and he realizes just how beautiful she's become.

"Whatever you say Sam."

-

The lights are dimmed at the party and hundreds of teenagers are milling around or letting loose on the dance floor. Carly scans the crowd looking for Sam, she can see Freddie dancing, and she laughs because he's not the best dancer but at least he tries and he's having fun. Sam…where's Sam?

Carly silently hits herself on the head; she should've known where to check first.

"Sam, you should come and dance."

Carly tugs on her arm. Sam grunts through her mouthful of food, one hand still reaching for another finger sandwich.

"What'd you say?"

"I said no."

"Come on Sam, you have to go dance, don't stay at the buffet table the entire time."

Sam sighs, "No Carly."

"If you don't dance, I can put mascara on you next time."

Sam narrows her eyes at Carly, "Well played Shay."

Carly smirks, "I learn from the best."

Sam is dragged out on to the dance floor by Carly and sullenly waves her body side to side. Carly gives her a disproving look before grabbing her hands and shaking her around. Sam lets out a loud laugh, "Alright Carly, I'll dance." Soon, she's become the life of the party because it's Sam and she is a party.

She's doing the sprinkler with a crowd of followers when Freddie sees her. He watches, laughing.

A slow song comes on and she frowns. Her followers disperse to find partners, and she begins to make her way to the buffet table again.

Freddie blocks her way and asks an annoyed Sam to dance. She complies because she has nothing else to do.

It's an awkward shuffling of feet and eyes that won't meet.

"So, how does it feel to be a professional bad ass?"

"I don't know…bad ass."

They laugh and everything else is easy.

-

They part ways for the night in the hall way between the apartments.

"Bye Freddie, see you tomorrow."

"Later Benson."

"Bye Carly…see you around Puckett."

They smirk at each other and Sam whirls herself in to Carly's house because she's hungry again. Carly laughs and throws a smile at Freddie.

Freddie walks in to the apartment and leans against the front door, confused. Everything's the same, but it's different.

He doesn't know why, but when he falls asleep at night he dreams of the sprinkler and Sam.