I Don't Own iCarly

Sorry, this chapter was long overdue.

A big thanks to luna moody for giving me suggestions and advice on how to continue. And thanks to her, this story will be longer as I was reminded that healing is a process and not an event.

Dr. McLandry stood at the window, the blinds open and the late afternoon sun drawing horizontal stripes across her lined face. Her currently alert green eyes sparkled as they caught the light. Her attention was trained on the parking lot right outside her office. Three teens were lounging on a car hood, talking. Every now and then, a shout of laughter would escape from the group and drift into the atmosphere as the brief moment of lighthearted fun turned into a memory

The doctor sighed. The teens were right in enjoying all the time they had with their friends. Soon, midterms would roll around; then finals and, for the senior year, graduation. The adult life was approaching faster than any of the kids anticipated. There would be taxes and jobs and other responsibilities. It was right to enjoy freedom while it lasted. Dr. McLandry knew all too well that her childhood had been wasted on endless hours of studying and always striving to get ahead. She was so focused on her dreams of attending top notch learning institutions that she forgot to appreciate her childish liberties. But when she found herself as a freshman in Harvard, she looked back. And saw nothing. So she changed her major from law to psychology in order to help others avoid the stressful lifestyle she had chosen. And after gaining a doctorate, she travelled around the country teaching and counseling until she decided to return to her home state of Washington. And here she—

A knock interrupted her thoughts. She turned from the window and checked the clock.

Exactly 4:00. Nicely done, Freddie Benson.

"Come in," she called.

A neatly dressed young man entered. He had short, ruffled (but not too ruffled), brown hair and towered over her at about six feet in height. His deep hazel eyes surveyed the room with a cautious air until they finally settled on her.

He cleared his throat. "Hello, ma'am. I'm Freddie Benson. They told me I had an appointment with you."

She smiled.

"Yes, nice to meet you Freddie," she gestured toward the chair in front of her desk, "Please, have a seat."

He nodded, walked to the chair, and took a seat. Dr. McLandry took one last glance toward the students in the parking lot before she left her post by the window. She sat down in her black leather armchair and clasped her hands on the desk.

"Well—"

"My mother told me to make these for you." Freddie lifted up a plastic container filled with what looked like oatmeal raisin cookies. "She said to always bring doctors gifts, preferably healthy cookies."

She raised her eyebrows and took the container. "Thank you, Freddie. But how did you know I was a doctor?"

"My friend Sam said that I had an appointment with a psychologist. She saw my name on your schedule."

Dr. McLandry chuckled. "She does have a knack for reading upside down."

Freddie continued. "Speaking of Sam, did you say something to her yesterday? Because that's all she said to me for the last 24 hours. After that, all she did was either nod or shake her head."

She frowned. Inside she said, "Sam, Sam, Sam. . . Why?" On the outside, she preserved doctor patient confidentiality and replied, "Nothing I can recall."

He scrutinized her for a couple seconds for accepting her response and nodding.

"So what can I do for you, doctor?"

She smiled. Freddie was such a pleasant boy. "Well, first off, I'll read from this list of things the teachers told me about you and you can tell me if what they said was right or not. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Dr. McLandry retrieved her legal pad and flipped to the page titled "Important Things to Know About Freddie Benson."

"Number one: you have an aptitude for technology."

Freddie nodded. Check.

"Number two: your best friends are Sam Puckett and Carly Shay.

He nodded again. Check.

"Number three: you have an overbearing mother that quite often visits the school unannounced."

He nodded, but this time more vigorously. She placed a big check next to that one.

"Number four: besides your mother, you don't have any immediate family."

He looked down and nodded slowly. Check with a small tear next to it.

"Number five: you are madly in love with Carly Shay."

Freddie hesitated. Then he shook his head and muttered, "Not anymore."

Dr. McLandry crossed out number five and put a question mark next to it. She looked back up at Freddie.

"Well, that's all that the teachers have told me. You seem to keep to yourself more than . . . others, so the staff and faculty know less about you. However, my job as a psychologist entails getting to know my students. So do you mind if I ask you about yourself?"

"No, not at all."

"Okay then, what classes do you take?"

"I have AP Chemistry, AP US History, Calculus, Spanish II, English Literature, and computer science."

"Impressive list, Freddie."

"Thanks."

"Do you enjoy these classes?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"What's your favorite subject?"

"Computer science."

Dr. McLandry wrote "nerd" and circled it twice.

"What is your grade in this class?"

"B," Freddie replied, ashamed.

"B? I thought you had a gift with electronics?"

"I only have a B because of," he paused, "distractions."

She smiled. "Of course. So what do you have in all your other classes?"

Freddie grinned proudly. "A's. All A's."

"Good for you. Where do you want to go for college?"

"I was going to go to U-Dub and maybe do something with technology, but my mom wants me to go to John Hopkins Medical. She said if I become a doctor, we can work at the same hospital and we can be called Team Benson." Then he added, "Which is why I really want to go to U-Dub."

His mom seems to be a dominating factor in his life. Interesting.

"Let me ask you this, Freddie, do you have a car?"

He sighed. "Yeah, but my mom only lets me have the keys so I can drive Sam, Carly, and myself to school."

"Yes, yes, of course," Dr. McLandry whispered. She circled mom and underlined it twice.

"What?"

She glanced up to see Freddie with a confused look on his face.

"Did you say something?"

"No. So Freddie, please, tell me about your friends."

Freddie gave a big groan and slouched in his chair.

"Do I have to?"

The doctor was surprised at his sudden change in mood. So far he had been so composed and polite. He even sat completely upright with perfect posture. So she wondered what was it about his friends that made him loose his cool. "Why? Is there something wrong?"

"No, it's just that sometimes my friends are just so . . . so . . . ARGH!" Freddie gave groan, this time frustrated.

She looked at him skeptically. "They're . . . ARGH?"

"Yeah, ARGH!"

"Well then, enlighten me. Explain while they're so . . . ARGH!"

Freddie took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to attempt to explain the dysfunctional anomaly that was their friendship.

"So first, there's Carly. She's nice, sweet, smart, pretty, and every other positive adjectives you can say about someone. The problem is that she knows she's all that stuff. And she uses it to her advantage. Because on the inside, Carly's extremely manipulative. Almost as much as my mother. She knows that I would do anything for her because there's no reason not to. Like I said, she's nice, sweet, smart, and pretty, so it's almost as if I'm . . . obligated to do stuff for her. What would be my excuse? Is she mean to me? No. Does she steal my stuff? No. Does she beat me up? No. So all Carly has to do is look at me and say 'please, for me' and BAM, I'm either sitting outside Build-a-Bra or in the middle of a lame vampire movie. I'm telling you, she's got it down to a system."

Dr. McLandry finished scribbling everything down before noticing something strange.

"Shouldn't you enjoy doing these things? These are almost like boyfriend chores. I know you said you're over her, but, from how you described her, she's still seems like quite a catch."

He shook his head. "But the problem is I know she's never going to actually like me. She likes bad boys. She hangs out with me because I'm nice to be around, but I'm not boyfriend material to her. I'm just a friend. It was fun to do that stuff with her in the beginning, but after I moved on it became boring."

"That is understandable. So what about Sam?"

Freddie shot out of his seat at the mention of the blonde girl.

"Sam? She's the biggest ARGH of them all. I mean, she's smart and beautiful, that's undeniable, but she's also vicious, violent, lazy, loud, and hungry. She doesn't respect me or my property. Like there was this one time I had to buy something for my mom from the grocery store. I told Sam to wait in the car and she said yes. So I leave and come back to find that she had filled my car with hundreds of tiny troll dolls that she bought from some guy on the street. The worst part is she used MY money. No respect. And not to mention, she's completely unpredictable. One minute we're hanging out and watching Girly Cow, the next minute I'm on the ground with my arm behind my back because I accidently brushed her hand." He stood up and started to pace back and forth. "I just don't—I can't—she—ARGH! You see what happens?!"

"Freddie?"

He ignored her and kept on pacing back and forth, ranting in gibberish.

"Freddie?"

""

"FREDDIE!"

He jumped.

"Freddie, please sit down."

Freddie obliged and took his seat.

"Do you want me to solve your problems?"

He nodded, but gave her skeptical look. D. McLandry smiled reassuringly.

"Now. I'm going to prescribe you with these things I like to call 'deep breaths', alright?"

"Deep breaths?"

"Yes. Whenever any of your friends or your mom causes you to stress out, take 5 deep breaths. If you still feel the anxiety, take another 5 deep breaths. Deep breaths, okay? In and out. In and out."

"It's that easy?"

"It's that easy."

Freddie slowly stood up. "O-okay then. Thank you, doctor."

"You're welcome. Come back this same time next week to tell me how you're doing, alright?"

He nodded, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and exited through the door, muttering under his breath.

"Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths."

Next up: Carlotta

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