Summary: Freddie must relive the events of the lock-in over and over until he gets it right.

iDo It Over

Chapter 1

"Look, I know it's scary for you to put your feelings out there," I tell my blonde-headed demon of a friend, determined to show her – to prove once and for all – that she loves Brad, that she should go for Brad.

I mean, it's not like she could be in love with anybody else.

Sam is looking at me like she just might bring her double-fist face-dancing threat to life, which I am not going to lie, scares me a bit. Nonetheless, I hold my stance because for some obscene reason, I want this for her.

Happiness and fudge, that is.

"Because you never know if the person you like is gonna like you back," I continue, catching her blue-eyed gaze like I always do when it's time for our bizarre, dysfunctional friendship to enter 'Serious Mode.' While 'Fight Mode' and 'Competitive Mode' are utilized so often that they're beat-up and bruised, 'Serious Mode' lives in a realm of spider webs and dust bunnies – rarely ever touched. And I think Sam understands where we are, because through my speech she looks like she's very deeply contemplating something that does not have to do with rearranging my face (for once). Like, really contemplating something. "But you never know…" Seriously. I wonder what it could be. "What might happen…" Maybe I'm finally getting through to her! Maybe she's finally going to make her move on Brad and –! "If you don't – "

Before I can fully process what's happening, Sam has grabbed my shoulders, pulled me close, and smashed her impulsive, angry lips into my still-babbling, unsuspecting ones. My eyes widen twice the size I ever thought they could, the world stops spinning, I lose cognitive and motor function entirely. All I have the brain power to do is stand there like a total idiot with the bane of my existence trying to tell me something without using logical options like words or explanations. I would have been more than fine handling words or explanations. This? Catastrophe from the moment she crossed that fine line.

Reluctantly, she finishes the kiss and slowly releases her grip on my shoulders, studying me, and I revert back to my original, safer distance from Sam Puckett, as if I'm some sort of elastic, inanimate object.

We're both stunned, to say the least, and the extreme awkwardness is most definitely reciprocated. Despite everything, Sam and I have always been on the same page, more often than not, on the same line of said page.

WHAT? I hear both our voices echo in my head in unison, WHY?

I open and close my mouth like a dying Carassius auratus, trying so, so hard to say something, anything, to the shocked, anxious girl standing before me, but honestly, my mind is confetti. Done-zo. It's like it's having a power outage and the alarm is someone screaming, "Sam Puckett just kissed me!" like, nine hundred times.

Thus, all I can manage to output is a smooth, clever, "…I…I…"

"Sorry," Sam says, a dialogue so unlike her yet so completely like her all at the same time.

I am somehow able to figure out that she's probably not that sorry.

"It's cool," I respond lamely, even more lamely trying to smile, but to Sam it probably looks more along the lines of mild constipation. Why, oh, why couldn't I just have normal, predictable friends? Why this?

Sam raises an eyebrow at me, and in any other situation it almost would have been comical. "So…that's…all you've got to say?" The question immediately lessens the numbness of my intelligence. Excuse me?

"That's all I've got to say?" I repeat, incredulous, "How 'bout you? You're the one who went all blitzkrieg on my face just now!" She looks relatively taken aback.

"Quit using words I don't understand, nub!" she shouts, putting her fist up.

"Blitzkrieg is a swift, sudden, military attack – "

"Ugghh, you're such a dweeb, you know that?" she exclaims, furious for unclear reasons. "I'm so outta here." She pushes past me – so hard, might I add, that I almost fall flat on my face – and marches inside, slamming the door behind her.

I don't even entertain the idea of running after her, instead gladly accepting the newfound alone time. 'Cause boy do I need it.

Unfortunately, aforementioned 'alone time' lasts for approximately thirty seconds before Carly Shay bursts through the door, looking extremely high-strung and ready to reprimand me.

"Freddie!" she shouts, and I feel myself cringe at her anger, "Want to explain to me what just happened out here? Or, I don't know, maybe why Sam just knocked out half the ninth grade from storming through the hallways?"

"How am I supposed to know?" I shout, throwing my arms up in exasperation, "One moment I'm trying to be a good friend and convince Sam to make a move on Brad, the next she's on me like I'm a living, breathing Fat Cake!" I run a hand through my hair and begin to pace uselessly.

Carly sighs, trying to make sense of the situation. "So... it... wasn't Brad. It was you. All along, Sam lo – "

"Don't say it!" I demand, "Don't go there! We can't go there. Sam does not… it's impossible that she… there's no way she could…Agh!"

"Don't be so stubborn," Carly says, "She obviously –" I look up from my pacing to halt Carly's statement again but soon notice that she has somehow frozen in place. In fact, it seems as if everything has frozen in place. What the - ?

"STOP!" a voice that sounds suspiciously like Carly's – though it can't be, Carly is right here, her mouth not moving - booms from an unknown source. "STOP, STOP, STOP!" A quick flash of light reveals – to my earth-shattering surprise – another Carly, only she is dressed in all white, and glowing. Yes, literally glowing. "You, my friend, are a mess and a half."

I ready himself to scream bloody murder, except the shining Carly quickly runs over and covers my mouth, leaving me to struggle and utter muffled sounds of protest.

"Whoa, calm down!" the not frozen Carly commands, my eyes wide, my heart beating wildly, "Hey, hey, chill, let me explain." Soon enough, I give up struggling and trying to scream, but the fear is not gonna be leaving anytime soon. "Good." The strange Carly smiles and releases me.

"You're… you're… you're…" I stutter, my eyes flying back and forth between the frozen, mid-scold Carly and the smiling, shiny white Carly.

"Here to help!" The latter says cheerfully, "What's up? I'm Adelaide, from the SCC – y'know, the Second Chance Committee? – Our representatives often take on the appearance and personality of close, personal buds of our clients, hence…" Adelaide gestures to her Carly-like self. "Get it now?"

"No?" I squeak. It is official. I have either gone crazy or entered some type of apocalyptic, alternate reality where nothing makes sense.

"I'll be clearer then!" Adelaide says brightly, "You choked big time, and we at SCC are huge iCarly fans. So, we're going to give you a shot at getting it right, free of charge!" As Adelaide says 'free of charge', she gestures at the air as if outlining the phrase for an infomercial. "Ready, Freddie?"

"Wait, I don't - !"

"I will take that as a yes!" Adelaide confidently snaps her fingers, and instantaneously the opposite of gravity sweeps me off my feet, caught in some kind of crazy, colossal tornado that has spontaneously generated from the ground under me.

"Wh-whoa!" I cry out, trying to regain balance, but it is totally futile. "Ahhh! Let me down! I… hate… anti-gravitational tumbling! Ahhh!" The wind is so strong that it stings my eyes, so I close them shut and grab my knees and scream and scream, hoping this is all a dream and I'll wake up in my nice, warm bed, with Sam still hating me, with no SCC or whatever that chiz is, with everything back to normal.

Except that doesn't happen.

When the wind dies down and I open my eyes once again, I'm facing my PearPad, the MoodFace App up and running, the familiar sights of the Ridgeway cafeteria bustling with semester project groups. Beyond the PearPad stands a concentrated Brad and an impatient but surprisingly cooperate Sam, waiting for her mood to be read.

The MoodFace App calculates and outputs and eerily familiar reading: "IN LOVE."

...Alright then. Please disregard theory two. I have definitely gone crazy.

A/N: I know, I know, you guys are probably all too sick of iOMG stories, but I thought this up and couldn't resist. What do you think? This story shouldn't be too long… I'm not sure exactly how long it'll get yet, maybe 10ish chapters?

Meanwhile, I hope you guy aren't losing YOUR minds over waiting for iLost My Mind. ;)

Thanks for reading, my dears!

-Colors