A/N- So, this story begins with junior year of college. Each chapter will contain a flashback to before Sam and Freddie were seperated. POVs will most likely alternate each chapter; this one is Freddie's POV. Review if you like it.

Present

I don't think you're supposed to miss someone that you spent the vast majority of your life arguing with. But Sam and I were never logical, so maybe that's why I miss her more than anything. I miss her smile, her eyes, and maybe most of all I miss screaming at her because I've never felt so alive. Coasting through school and studying all of this technical stuff is not nearly as fun and fulfilling as losing my mind, screaming at her, and making up.

My roommate, Craig Tillman, is typing furiously at his laptop. He's majoring in biochemistry or something else suitably confusing. I'm working with computer programming and video editing. With a loud sigh, Craig stops typing. "Done," he says. He turns back to me. He's probably the geekiest guy I've ever met with greasy blond hair and one of the worst cases of post-adolescent acne I've ever seen. I wonder what Sam would say about him. She used to say I was a nerd.

"So, Freddie, I know you're not really the top guy to ask about this... But I was wondering if you maybe had some girl advice. I know you've at least had two girlfriends. That girl on that web-show, Carly. And that other girl that you have as your screen saver and cry about all the time." I flush. I do not cry about Sam.

"So any advice?" Craig asks again, looking to me eagerly.

"Um..." I begin. I really don't know what to say. Give up now and save yourself a life of miserable searching. Or at least until you've gained a net worth of several million. Then maybe the girls will be interested in you. Instead I say,"Why don't you just go that party Antonio's having? I think anyone can come."

"But what do I do?" he asks.

"Uh... smile, compliment, get drinks. You know. Haven't you ever seen a chick flick?"

"Only the time my little sister handcuffed me and forced me to watch Mean Girls."

"Okay, so basically, just be yourself. Or a better, less geeky version of yourself."

Luckily, Craig didn't take this as an insult. "All right, I'll see you later. You should get out too, Freddie."

"Thanks for the advice," I say, and watch him go out the door. I try to fit in some studying in silence, but I get bored way too quickly. Without realizing it, I find myself on the way to the same party I sent Craig to.

Thus far, I've succeeded in mostly avoiding the party scene. I'm 21 now so I can go to whichever ones I want to, but the appeal seems to have floated above my head. Maybe it was all those after-school specials my mom made me watch. But probably the biggest part of it was the fact that she wouldn't be there. We went to everything together, and now I'm stuck being alone.

I grab a cup of something that looks like punch but is probably watered-down alcohol mixed with food coloring and sugar. It tastes awful, and I almost spit it out. I manage to swallow it down with much difficulty, and then I toss the cup into the nearest trash can.

There's a party going on around me, that's for sure. It has all the elements. Alcohol, music, and people having fun. Except me. I'm not having fun. I feel lost and embarrassed. I hate the feeling. So, I start towards the door. This was a mistake, that's for sure.

"Hey, I know you." It's a girl's voice. I turn towards her, and she smiles. She's pretty with curly brown hair and blue eyes. "Oh, you're on that web-show, iCarly! You're Freddie Benson. Wow, I loved that show when I was in high school."

"Yeah, that's me," I reply. "What's your name?"

"Kayla Lewis," she answers. "So, what's the story? What happened behind the scenes on that thing? God, I sound like a crazed fan girl."

"It's no problem. You know, we were just a couple of teenagers having some fun. It was never anything too serious." I'm kind of lying. It was a serious thing, and we worked super hard on it.

"Wow, this is so weird. And kind of embarrassing. All my friends will tell you I was so obsessed. I can't believe I'm meeting you." She gives a nervous giggle and peers at me through her bangs. "Okay, so what are you majoring in, then?"

"Computer programming and video editing. I think it would be great to have a job working on a TV show or something."

"That's really interesting. I'm working with business, but who cares, really? I'm so boring."

"I don't think you're boring." It came out immediately. I don't how it got to the next part either really. I was fumbling for the doorknob to my dorm. Open already, I scream in my head. At last, it releases and clicks open. We were going to have to stop kissing at some point. It's kind of hazardous. There are a lot of textbooks and unwashed clothes and tech stuff strewn across the floor. Apparently, the safety hazard didn't bother Kayla as she leaned farther into me.

"Holy crap! We've got a live one!" Kayla pulls her face away from mine and spins around. It's Craig, sitting on his bed with his laptop and staring at us. "By the way, your girl catching advice really sucks," he says, looking at me. Then he resumes checking out the girl in the room.

Kayla glares at me. "I thought you said no one was here," she hisses.

"I... I thought he would be preoccupied. Sorry."

She rolls her eyes. "Either get him to leave, or I will." Then she places a hand on her hip and gives me her best serious face. Which wasn't very good, but whatever.

"Um..." I was starting to sort of freak out. What was I even doing? This wasn't me.

"What the heck are you doing?" Kayla and Craig say in unison. She gives him a poisonous look then turns back to me. She presses her lips to mine, but it is as I suspected. No sparks, no feelings. Just a sloppy, wet, nothing-special kiss.

"Sorry, Kayla, I can't." I take her hand gingerly. "You're just too drunk. I wouldn't want to take advantage of you. Maybe some other time." I pat her shoulder gently, and then I kiss her on the cheek and lead her out the door. The whole time she looks thoroughly confused. "Goodbye," I say, shutting the door.

"What were you thinking?" demands Craig. "You just kicked that to the curb? You may never get that lucky again!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, no offense, but you're no hot commodity around Stanford or anything... And she was like totally into you and she was an eight at least!"

"Okay then." Then I proceed to ignore him and work on my homework for a bit. But I can't stop thinking about the real reason I told Kayla to leave. Sam.

October, Sophomore Year of High School

"Please, if you're so smart, tell me your brilliant solution!" shouted Sam, glaring at me with her blazing blue eyes.

"I'm telling you, just plug the leak with a sponge and some duct tape. No big deal." She stopped glaring and shrugged a little. Clearly, she didn't want to thank me for my brilliant idea. That would require her to admit that I was right.

"What are you guys yelling about this time?" Carly asked, coming down the stairs of her apartment. She sat down between us on the couch in her living room. She's so used to this, being the moderator between the two of us.

"My bathtub has a leak," said Sam.

"And?"

"Fredward says that I need to fix it because it could leak into the apartment below me. But seriously, is that my problem?"

Carly rolled her eyes. "Wow, I actually thought it was something serious this time."

"It is serious," Sam snapped.

"No, it's not," Carly said. "All you guys ever do is argue and argue and argue. Seriously, I just don't get it."

"It's not my fault he's such a nub. What am I supposed to do? Ignore it?"

Apparently Carly didn't feel like arguing with that, and she changed the subject instead. "There's a dance next Friday. It should be pretty fun." Then she grinned widely, and her eyes went distant. She was daydreaming, of course.

"Okay, who asked you?" demanded Sam, cutting to the chase.

Carly hesitated before admitting, "Luke Kramer. The second hottest guy in school." She sighed happily.

I stared at her, feeling disappointed. I was still in love with her. At least, a little bit. Of course, Sam picked up on my silence and jumped in with a quick insult. "Looks like Friday's going to be another night of Fredward crying into his pillow. Nice going, Carly."

"I'm not sad! I don't care," I announced, trying to sound confident. I was failing, and I knew. Sam smiled, her blue eyes shining.

"Aw, he tries to deny it. How precious."

"Shut up," I muttered. "I'm leaving."

"Freddie, come on. Stay," said Carly. But she didn't offer anything more. No 'I'll go with you, Freddie' or at least an 'If Luke hadn't asked, I definitely would have gone with you, Freddie.' Just a feeble apology. It reminds me of when I told her I'd never been kissed two years ago, and she'd done nothing. It was just a kiss, but she wouldn't even give me that. "Sam, please be civil to him," Carly said, giving her a look.

"How can I be civil to a face like that?" she asked, glaring at me with an almost comic level of resentment.

I sighed. Things would never change.

At least, I didn't think they'd ever change. But I guess they did. Because after almost three years, she was always on my mind like she was branded there. And I want nothing more than to get her back, but who knows if I ever will.

Thanks for reading! Please review! Suggestions and ideas are welcome. If you liked this, check out my one-shot "The Definition of Love" and my soon-to-be multi-chapter "For the World to See". I really hope more people would give me feedback on the latter, because I'm not entirely sure where it's going. Thanks!