The countertop in Carly's kitchen was, as always, a complete and utter mess. With the help of Sam and Freddie, the three of them shuffled through scrap pieces of paper, glue stick, jelly beans, plates of food, bottle caps, socks and a bowl of cherries. Sam had picked up the large bowl to look under it, but when she saw that nothing was there, she let out a sigh and collapsed onto a chair behind her.

"Well I give up," she declared, picking up a cherry and plucking it off of its stem.

Carly glanced at Sam with an arched eyebrow. "Come on Sam, we just started. I know it's got to be here somewhere."

"Uh, correction," Sam said matter-of-factly, "we did not just start anything. We've been searching all over your house for some piece of paper all afternoon. I say that thing is long gone."

"But it can't just be gone!" Carly threw her hands up into the air, "I spent all night writing ideas on it for iCarly. I'm usually not this disorganized."

"You aren't disorganized," Freddie piped up, "but your house is. Are you sure you can't remember what you wrote on it?"

"If she did, do you think she would be making us look for it?" Sam scowled at him, but Freddie just shrugged.

Carly sighed, a sign that she was giving up. Rather sadly, she sat down on a chair next to Sam, grabbing a cherry herself to eat. "Sorry this afternoon has gone to waste guys," she said apologetically. "I can make it up to you by making some fruit smoothies."

Sam's eyes grew wide as she exclaimed, "I love smoothies!"

"I can even add a shot of vodka if you'd like?"

Carly winked and laughed, turning to Freddie. Scratching his head, he responded, "I should probably go. My mom's going to have dinner ready for me soon." Carly and Sam just eyed each other with funny smirks. Recently, Freddie had said his mom had been making him early dinners, sometimes as early as 4:30 in the afternoon. After dinner, he wasn't supposed to eat anything, and his mom had told him that "your digestive system will appreciate you more this way."

"Maybe I'll see you tomorrow then," Carly said as she rose to her feet to start making smoothies. With a nod, Freddie made his way to the door of the apartment. Walking through, he hesitated before closing the door, making sure Carly's back was to him. Then, daringly, he glanced at Sam, whose eyes were already on him. Both of their faces were emotionless. Without moving her eyes, Sam picked up a cherry from the bowl and placed it between her teeth. She slowly plucked it off of its stem before wrapping her lips around it. Freddie closed the door.

"Warning, loud noise," Carly let Sam know as she turned on the blender. The fruits and ice inside began to spin around rapidly, the machine blaring. "So what's new with you?" she yelled over the noise, struggling to keep the lid on.

"Nothing," Sam replied softly so that her voice was impossible to hear over the blender, "nothing at all." Only then did she finally tear her eyes away from the closed door.

She never knocked on doors, always breaking the lock to allow herself inside. Pulling her blonde hair over one shoulder, she walked through the living room, then into a bedroom with an open window. She hesitated, as she always did, before boldly making her way to the open window. Climbing through the space, Sam joined Freddie out on the fire escape.

"Hey," she said quietly. Freddie was sitting on a chair, staring out at the city. The hot summer heat of the city was almost unbearable during the day, but the sun had started to set now, and down below there were more people out for strolls on the street than there had been in the afternoon.

Freddie nodded. "How was your smoothie?"

"Good. Really good. You would have liked it." Pause. Sam glanced back through the window, peering through Freddie's room which was as neat and tidy as the sample beds at IKEA. No sound emerged from inside. "When does your mom get back?"

"Not for another hour." It was Freddie's turn to pause now, biting the inside of his lower cheek anxiously. "I really wish we didn't have to lie to her Sam. I mean shouldn't we tell her? It's Carly after all."

Sam arched her eyebrows slightly, face straight and unreadable. "What's there to tell?"

At this, they both turned their eyes away from each other, watching the city. The silence between them was bubbly with nerves and anticipation, as it always was when they were alone. The relationship between Sam and Freddie was a complicated one – although neither of them would ever dare to admit it – yet their late afternoon plans were quite simple. About three times a week, Freddie's mom would go to her friends' house for tea or book clubs or cleaning advice, and Sam would then come over without telling anyone. The two of them would just hangout, sometimes inside, sometimes out, although little was often said.

Sam had assumed the whole thing had been her idea. It had seemed that a first kiss hadn't been enough for either of them, so when Sam came over one evening unannounced before summer, they both knew why. They experimented kissing with each other: eyes open, eyes closed, standing up, lying down, sometimes without tongues but almost always with, and once Freddie had been chewing gum which, of course, ended up in Sam's mouth. Their hands now ventured daringly across each other's bodies, unclipping and unzipping, and their lips had started to leave the face to find bliss in different places. Whatever they did decide to do, Sam and Freddie always started and ended with deep kisses, so passionate it almost looked real.

But it's not real, Sam had told herself numerous times. She had made it quite clear to Freddie that she didn't like him anymore than a friend after he had asked her what they were exactly. "I don't subscribe to labels Freddie," she had responded seriously, "but haven't you ever heard the term 'friends with benefits'?" If Freddie had wanted to be anything more, he had never said, which was just the way Sam liked it. They could enjoy each other's company, they could enjoy each other's kissing, but nothing else was there to be felt.

"Did I tell you I'm leaving, two weeks today?" Sam was the first to speak, leaning against the outside brick. "My mom is making me go stay with my grandparents. I know it's only for four days of the whole summer, but I'm expecting it to be as exciting as flossing my teeth."

Freddie eyed her, a devilish grin spreading uncontrollably across his mouth. "You floss your teeth?" he asked jokingly, and Sam responded with her infamous closed-mouth smile.

With a small nod to himself, Freddie rose from his chair and approached Sam, stopping only inches away. Their eyes avoided each other, timid curls playing with the corners of their lips. It was always this moment when questions wildly whizzed through their heads. Were they really going to keep this up? Did everyone do this with old friends? Would they just keep on kissing until…

The questions only usually ever got that far before one of them leaned in first. That night it was Freddie, pushing Sam's body further against the wall, lips pressed hard against each other. Sam lifted her arms up and wrapped them around the back of Freddie's neck, feeling weightless. It wasn't long before Freddie his head back.

"You know what Sam?" he asked, his voice in a breathy whisper, "Even if it's still two weeks away, and you're only gone for four days, I'm going to miss you."

Sam's mouth formed the shape of an O, caught off guard. Other than Carly, she never would have believed anyone who said they would miss her for four days – not even her own mother. Then what made her so sure that Freddie meant every word? Her eyes were still open, deep in thought as Freddie kissed her lightly. Suddenly not feeling like having to hold her arms up anymore, they went limp around Freddie's neck before Sam let them fall.

"Mm… Mm… Freddie?" she managed to turn her head away before saying lamely, "I'm thirsty. Can you get me a drink?"

"Sure," Freddie responded innocently. "Do you want, like, a beer or something?"

"God, no!" Sam said quickly, "No, I've just come from vodka spiked smoothies at Carly's. Just a glass of water, thanks."

Freddie nodded and climbed through the window. Sam began to feel sick watching him walk away, and the second he turned down the hall she left the wall. She started pacing back and forth on the fire escape, something she rarely ever did. "Shit," she hissed under her breath, "shit!"

After some more pacing, she came to a halt. Frantically she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand because maybe, just maybe, she had felt something.