I'm sorry for not sending it out earlier … explanation at end.

-Bella

I set my books into my locker and flipped the locker door closed. The locker caught the light and reflected Freddie's face looking across the hallway. His hair was combed—not really surprising—and he smelled different. Had his mother ordered a new dandruff shampoo??

No, I would've known by now—the lady isn't exactly private (the bathroom incident).

I immediately turned around—Freddie wasn't really one who smiles all the time—only to see the locker next to me being opened as long, blonde curls fell over an English textbook.

ADVERBS, NOUNS, VERBS, AND MOST OT—the rest of the title was cut off as my locker swung open, and as I felt pressure on my back and pain in my arms.

"Uh," I groaned as I tried to right myself again. I was too shocked to look behind or scream in pain.

Laughter. I heard laughter next to me as Freddie stood behind me, ready to open my mouth and mutter under my breath, "never going to happen...." But he was laughing with Sam, my arm hurting from in front of his own.

He laughed after he'd physically damaged me.

It was a lot of pressure—he didn't just not notice it. He understood what he had done, and he wasn't sorry.

***

I grabbed the speaker, ready to announce it to the world....

--Flashback--

I was sitting a table, all alone before Sam had noticed me and tried to steal my sandwich ... no, this was before I even knew Sam.

"Carly," whispered a voice from behind me. I didn't even turn to see who it was before answering,

"Freddie." My hand flew to my mouth after I muttered, quietly, "Hi." I wasn't supposed to talk to Freddie because his mother thought I was "dangerous" and "irresponsible" and "a total never-going-to-happen". As if.

He sat at my table, closed his eyes, and began to mutter, "Carly, will you—" He was wearing a red tee shirt with a dinosaur on it, and it was lunchtime. He knew he wasn't supposed to talk to me, but he couldn't stay away for long....

He looked at my face. He knew it was never going to happen—and even it could have, his mother was against everything I did or thought or said.

"So," he said instead, "Do you want to know a secret?" I smiled and said sure, even though Freddie's secrets were never too exciting. "Okay. I was born a girl." I gasped before answering.

"Cool," I said. I wondered if this was true—Freddie didn't look like a girl at all—and anybody could see he was obsessed with me in every way.

He wasn't a she—he was a he and that he's name was Freddie—it was Freddie the he and not Freddie the she. (Besides, exciting and interesting things do NOT happen to people named Fredward Benson—never.)

"Okay," he said, "Just don't tell anyone. I don't want just everybody to know." Of course—just the thing you'd say if what you were saying WEREN'T true!

Of course—just the thing you'd say if what you were saying WERE true.

"I won't, Freddie." I was smiling—who would ever care? I wasn't going to tell anyone anyway. It was against anything anyone (besides Spencer) had ever told me.

Suddenly, the new girl walked over. I'd heard she made Germy cry so hard he had to move to Alabama to hide from the shame.

Did I really believe what Melanie Heffman said, though?? She also said Freddie was born with three noses, and I do NOT think that you could be born with three noses and have them removed without so much as a scar.

Freddie sprung into action. "I'll protect you, Carly!" said Freddie. I bit my lip to keep from laughing—I knew that one day Freddie would be my night in shining armor. (Or so I hoped.)

It just wouldn't be for a really long time.

Freddie was no good at protecting me—he scampered away as the new girl sat right next to me.

Her hand went for my sandwich, and I grabbed it back. "Hey," she said. "You're all right. I'm Sam Puckett."

--End of Flashback--

Could I really do this to Freddie? I couldn't do this—but I needed to. There was no other time I had the microphone for all the speakers at my fingertips.

He'd been a lifelong friend and ... could I hurt him like this? Was my heart really that cold?

Was I really ready for whatever response would come after I shattered his/her life to pieces? What would his "friends" think? Was it even true—or had he just said it to look important or have something secretive to tell me??

It was probably all a lie. What kind of boy said they were really a girl, anyway?

Freddie Benson.

Well, I hope you liked it!! Anyway … you know when I said that I would send you the next chapter those who reviewed correctly?? Well, we had … technical difficulties. I decided people had already waited too long and so, here it is!!

I'm really, really, sorry (even if this stupid computer isn't)