The school halls were crowded with whispering, gossiping adolescents, buzzing around with the news of the day; he took no notice of them. It would have been a lie to say that he was completely calm, but he did have a strange sense of reassurance. All he had to do now was find Carly.

He caught a glimpse of her favorite jeans (he recognized them immediately, although he barely wanted to admit that to himself) and his breath caught.

It was time.

iMove On

"Carly!" Freddie cried, intensely and uncomfortably aware of how his voice squeaked out her name. She turned, and he saw Sam sneaking away. The pounding in his head was nearly unbearable.

Was her smile a little nervous, a little off, or was he projecting his feelings onto her? He honestly wasn't sure anymore.

"Hey, Freddie," she said, giggling a little bit. "Look at what Sam was..." Carly trailed off, obviously having realized that Sam had exited the scene. Freddie looked around, stomach sinking. What if this all blows up in my face?

"Carly..." he said slowly, trying his best to force the words out correctly, "could we just leave?"

She looked at him, obviously confused. A few strands of beautiful brown hair were beginning to fall into her eyes. "Why would we leave?"

"It's just...we need to...there's something important I need to talk to you about."

Carly laughed.

"What?" he asked, a little perturbed. Here he was, ready to confess his love and possibly throw their friendship out the window, and she was laughing?

"I don't know. Just you asking me to skip school. Straight-A student, upstanding member of the community..."

"I mean it. It is important."

She slung her bag over her shoulder and slammed the locker (a satisfying noise). "I know you mean it, Freddie. I'll go." Something in her voice comforted him. There was warmth in it (had that always been there?), warmth that made him almost-nearly-positive that she would be sympathetic.

They walked in silence. Once or twice he began to tell her, or at the very least to break the oppressive quiet, but something in her eyes made him too uneasy. It was a pleasant day, and it wasn't long until they reached a small diner.

"Let's stop here," he said suddenly. He honestly hadn't had a place in mind before they began walking, but something about the little restaurant made him hopeful.

They took their seats and his throat constricted. Carly was looking at him expectantly. A haze seemed to have settled over his brain; the waitress came to take their orders. When the food arrived, he merely stared at it blankly.

"Freddie, I'm really worried about you," Carly said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ear. She was wearing earrings—earrings that, he remembered, he had bought for her a couple of Christmases ago.

He sighed. "I don't want to worry you. I'm sorry. I just...I don't want us to stop being friends."

"Why would we stop being friends?"

"Oh, gee, I don't know. Maybe because of your little 'ultimatum'. Maybe because...it's pretty hard to get over you, Carly, especially when I don't even want to. I want to be able to be there for you, and to be part of the show, but if that means that I have to pretend that I don't have feelings for you—I just don't think I can do that."

She was silent.

He was silent.

Even the crashing of plates in the back of the diner seemed to be miles away.

Cars drove by.

(This coffee tastes like sawdust. Why did I even order coffee? I don't drink coffee.)

Carly's fork clanged against her plate as she shoved a forkful of hash browns into her mouth.

"You know, I guess I really didn't mean that," she said, putting her glass of orange juice back down without drinking.

He looked at her, finally. She was squirting ketchup on her hash browns, pointedly ignoring him. Her hair was falling into her face, her eyeliner was smeared, her lips were chapped, and she was beautiful.

He looked back down and said to his scrambled eggs, "You didn't?"

She stared deeply into her fork. "I was just really angry about the whole thing with Dustin, but...I mean, you were right. He was kind of a jerk anyway. Telling me he never wanted to see me again just because of what you did? Can you imagine me taking him home to meet Spencer?"

Freddie almost laughed. "He'd dump you in a heartbeat."

"Probably wouldn't even shut the door." Carly ran a hand through her hair. "It's not your fault that I don't have the best luck with relationships. I didn't mean to take it out on you, it's just...I hate to see you suffer like this, too."

"Wait, what? What's this about me suffering?"

"The 'constant pain' thing? What kind of heartless person do you think I am? I know that it sucks when people don't like you back or when they do but it just isn't enough." She stabbed her hash browns vengefully as she said this, but he was kind enough not to point that out. "You're my best friend, Freddie. I don't want to be causing you that kind of pain any more than I want you to ruin all of my dates."

"Sorry," he muttered.

A couple entered the diner. Both the man and the woman had dark hair, and looked to be in their early twenties. They were having an animated conversation, and scarcely noticed Carly and Freddie as they passed by to reach their booth. Freddie was reminded again of how much he wanted that couple to be them, sometime in the future. Carly was watching him as he observed the couple. He raised his eyebrows in apology.

"I did try to make it work, with Becky," he offered weakly.

She sighed. "I know."

"But I just—"

"Told her that I was your favorite color?"

Freddie frowned. "How do you know about that?"

Carly laughed, and the sound was pure and genuine. Reality was beginning to creep back into his senses. She pulled a newspaper from her bag. "Becky does the gossip column in the school newspaper. You didn't know that?"

If Carly had announced to him that she was running away to pursue her dream of being a giant chicken on TV, he could not have been more shocked.

"I mean, technically it's 'anonymous', but most people know it's her. I just figured you knew. Sca-a-ary, hmm?"

"So the whole thing..."

"Yeah, everybody at the school knows."

He slumped for a second, thinking about what this would mean for his reputation. "But...we're still friends?"

"The best," Carly replied, smiling.

He grinned. "Then I'm happy," he said, and he truly meant it. Maybe he'd lost some temporary "cool points" and gone through a lot of trouble. Maybe he'd never have a use for that leather jacket or cologne. Maybe some things had changed...

"Oh, and" (she lowered her voice) "I have a date with David Cross tomorrow night. He thought it was really sweet that I was going to keep being friends with you, and he asked me out!"

...but some things never would.