I cooked this up ages (no, really) ago, but never really fleshed it out. So… In a moment of inspiration at a very late hour, I wrote the following. Done in drabble-esque style for your reading pleasure.

Let the fandom expansion continue!

-Too Damn Hard-

It was too damn hard being friends with a popular web-show hostess. Too. Damn. Hard.

And not for the reasons you would think—no, that would be far too simple. Sam Puckett's only problem with being biffles with Carly Shay was—

"Sam!" Slim arms wrapped around the blonde girl's waist from behind and she was enveloped in the sweet, tempting scent of whatever perfume the teen had chosen that morning. Instantly, she became hyper aware of the way full breasts (Carly had really blossomed that summer) pressed into her back and she jumped a foot, quickly putting space between them and wheeling around to face her best friend…

Which, of course, made her groan inwardly. The brunette was wearing a cute little v-neck and denim short shorts, her pale cheeks dusted with a fetching pink colour. Sam didn't wear make-up herself nor did she see any reason for the stuff, but seeing it on Carly changed her opinion entirely.

The younger girl had a habit of doing that.

"What?" she asked gruffly, more to hide the entirely too long moment where she had gaped appreciatively than anything.

She frowned a bit, though with such pretty features, the expression was positively adorable. "I haven't seen you in forever! I'm just happy."

Ba-bump. Stupid heart.

"Yeah, well, been busy." That much was true. Coming out to her mother had been one psychiatrist visit after another. "How've you been?"

They fell into step next to each other—easily; as though it was the most natural thing in the world—and headed for class, hustling to beat the late bell.

"Great. I've got this amazing idea for the show later, actually…"

School proceeded as it did five times a week without incident—until gym rolled around, that is.

There were a dozen other girls changing in the Ridgeway Junior High locker room yet somehow blue eyes kept straying to the beautiful brown-haired girl that was changing not even a foot from where she clutched at the hem of her shirt, too self-conscious (and too lost in creamy swells of flesh) to remove the rain-soaked article.

Their brilliant teacher hadn't checked the weather report that morning before sending the kids for a run and a torrential downpour had rained down on their heads before they could finish their second lap.

The brunette in question glanced at her best friend, laughing, "Sam, you'll get sick like that."

Her cheeks heated. "R-right…"

Only Carly made her feel like such a goober.

As she shook her head disdainfully at her own silliness and lifted her shirt up over her head, she came face-to-lovely face with the other girl and she flinched away, quickly putting distance between them.

Distance was good.

"You okay? Your face is all red." A gentle, warm hand rested against her forehead for a brief moment and the blonde felt her heart flutter again at the genuine concern in dark eyes.

"I must be getting sick like you said," Sam insisted hurriedly, forcing an unconvincing cough as her face did its best impression of a tomato.

Too damn hard…!