Hey there guys… well those of you still reading this. This is KL21 back from the grave. That's right the grave. I had temporarily decided to hang up the whole thing. Tried to walk away from it all. But I couldn't do it. Every time I told myself it was over a little voice told me that I still had it in me… so here I am.

To anyone whose reading this for the first time; this story was started long before seddie was HUGE like it is now, or seems to be anyway. So just keep in mind that in this story; the Seddie Arc never happened (which, at this point, sounds like it would have been for the best. But that's a fight for another day I suppose).

To those of you who aren't new readers, there are more POV changes than I'd have liked but they were deemed necessary and that will not be a common occurrence and hopefully just a one-time deal. Please bear with me for this one chapter. Please and Thank you.

So I've taken up enough of your time. I give you the 12th chapter of War Games, Opening Volley.

Please, read, enjoy, and review; thank you.

Opening Volley

? POV

I wonder who'd be calling me at this time of night.

"Hello?"

"Let's skip the pleasantries. I'm very busy." Well that's rude.

"Well, if you're so busy, then why are you calling me?"

"Watch that tone. You can easily be replaced." insufferable witch, "Now; I'm calling to make sure you've got everything under control so far."

"Yeah, everything is moving along smoothly. She doesn't suspect a thing."

"Perfect." I hate the sound of her cackling voice, "make sure that it remains that way."

She's starting to sound like one of those clichéd movie villains, "And you're positive that this plan of yours will work?"

"Of course I am. I predicted that she'd call, didn't I? I predicted that the party would be derailed for them, didn't I? I, even, predicted that the webcast would suffer. I'm in total control here. And the beauty of it is; neither of them suspects a thing. They're so wrapped up in the hatred of their past that they can't even open their eyes to the events happening in front of them. "

"Well if that's the case, then why don't you just take a more proactive step?"

"What do you mean, proactive?" that wasn't the right question to ask, "I'm the one holding all of the cards. Nothing happens unless I want it to happen. Nothing moves unless I want it to move. No one knows anything unless I want them to know. Everything moves through me. I am the prism through which the light shines, creating a rainbow leading to the pot of gold."

A bit over the top isn't it, "And when do we reach this 'pot o' gold'?"

"All in good time. In good time, I'll have him all to myself. In good time, she'll be forced out of the picture entirely. All. In. Good. Time."

"Why are you using that awful British accent?"

"How about you worry less about my speech patterns, and more about making sure you don't screw this up!"

"Alright, alright, calm down. There's no need to yell." sometimes I wonder how I get myself caught up in these things. "So, what do I get out of this?" All of this planning is well and good, but I'm nobody's lackey.

"What do you want?"

"What I've always wanted… her."

"Well, then, you can have her. Once we're done with her, she'll be a broken mess. Then, you'll be able to swoop in and pick up the pieces. Be the 'knight in shining armor' that you've always wanted to be."

I like the sound of that, "Good. Well, I've got to go. I've got things that I have to do if this is going to continue to go on without a hitch."

"Whatever, just be sure to watch your step. I've put a lot of work into this and I will not have you screwing this up with you blundering ways."

Insufferable witch.

However, she does make a good plan.

Soon, you will be mine.

Normal POV

"Sam wa-" he asked into the dead silence that remained after the click. "Hello? Sam? Sam!" he stared at his phone in disbelief as he lowered the phone from his ear.

He couldn't believe that she'd hung up on him. She was mentioning some message that he was certain he didn't send. As a matter of fact, he hadn't even spoken to her since Gibby's party, and even then that was her sending him messages. He had no problem apologizing if he was wrong, but even he wouldn't just apologize to appease Sam.

Then it hit him. She was the one that sent him the threat. She knew what was going to happen at that party. She had to. Knowing her, she probably set the whole thing up. And she had the nerve to ask him for an apology? What did she expect him to say?

Sorry, Sam, for getting pelted with water balloons all night? Sorry for having to replace my camera? Sorry for getting stuffed into, and having to roll out of, a trash can in front of the entire senior class?

Yeah, right.

It will be a cold day in the hottest part of Hell before he apologized for anything.

Freddie took a few deep breaths to calm his self down. He decided to check his phone to see just what, exactly, she thinks he should be apologizing for.

He scrolled through his previous messages "Ok… From Sam… From Sam… I remember those."

"Huh? To Sam? I don't remember sending this." He tried to open the message and found that his phone was asking for a password. "Wha- what the… How did this message get locked?" He had no reason to lock his phone. Something strange is going on.

He continued scrolling and was surprised to se that a text had also been sent to Carly. He knows that he hasn't sent her a text message in forever. Strangely enough, that one was also locked. Who could've sent these? And what do they say? This is obviously what Sam and Carly are so upset about but he can't apologize because he didn't do anything.

Feeling a migraine coming on, he decided that he'd tackle this mess later. A good night's sleep would give his brain a much needed rest. He looked over at his clock.

"2 in the morning?" He uttered with a groan. Well four hours of sleep is better than nothing.

He tossed his phone on his nightstand, and laid his head down on his pillow for what he was sure was going to be a restless sleep.

Freddie woke up the next morning figuring that it would best to beat the crowd to school. Avoid any human interaction as much as humanly possible.

It worked pretty well the first day. He made it through the day without incident. He did see Reuben and Sam chatting next to her locker but knew that he was in no position to inquire about it. He had enough on his plate just trying to survive; without putting himself in harm's way by poking into Sam's personal life. That was dangerous enough when they were friends. Now that they're in this purgatory of a relationship, there's no telling what she'd do.

Nope, he had to do everything that was necessary for his survival. It seemed that he was on the right track. If he could keep this up, then he may just make it until summer, or until he could make up with Sam.

Whichever came first.

Now in the second day of this "avoidance" maneuver, Freddie, once again, beat the crowd. On the way to his locker, Freddie turned around to face the stairwell. He could have sworn he'd heard something.

He stood in front of the stairwell and stared at the steps trying to will whatever was hiding up there to reveal itself.

He shook his head at the absurdity that anyone would be up there. It was 7:03 in the morning. The only people here would be people in Early Bird classes. Sam certainly didn't have one of those, and even if she did, she wouldn't show up for it.

He shrugged it off and walked over to his locker. He input his combination and before he could even recognize what was going on, he found himself covered in what he could only assume, and hope, was mayonnaise.

He was fairly certain the twisted individual who would even think up such a prank to pull.

"Sam," he seethed.

It had to be her, but when did she do it. There was always the day before, but Mondays were always her 'busy days". She could've done it, Saturday. However, that's highly unlikely seeing as to how Sam has generally sworn off doing anything on any Saturday… ever. Then that noise I heard must've been…

"Whoa… what's goin' on with that raspberry stockade?"

Is that Reuben? He hasn't been seen nor heard from since Sam ran him out of that restaurant. Come to think of it… He's been seeing more and more of Reuben over the last two days.

"Seems you've let the gurney fall on the trapeze."

"Yeah… sure." Freddie could already foresee the headache that would arise from the ensuing conversation. "Hold on a sec, Reuben." There was only one way to avoid confusion when talking to Reuben.

"You've reached the Gibster."

Gibby is the only person that's been able to understand what he says.

"Hey, Gibby. What's up?"

"What do you mean 'what's up'? You called me." He had a point.

"My bad Gib."

"No worries man. You've had a rough weekend from what I've heard."

"Yeah."

"So, what do you need?"

"I've got Reuben standing here, and I need you to translate for me."

"That's strange."

"Yeah, I didn't think anybody would be at the school this early. Anyway, he asked me 'what's goin' on with that raspberry stockade'."

"You're covered in mayonnaise? Man, you get into the craziest stuff."

"Gib, you have no idea. He also said that I 'let the gurney fall on the trapeze.'"

"He said that you must have made someone pretty upset to get caught on the end of something like that."

"Yeah… Yeah I must have." This all struck Freddie as being a bit fishy.

Why would Reuben say that? Why would Reuben say anything at all? He'd been more or less a ghost around Ridgeway for a couple of years. Even when he was a prominent presence, he didn't speak to anyone except Gibby. And now, he's suddenly in the hallways and speaking to him?

Very fishy, indeed.

"Freddie? Freddie!"

"Yeah Gib? Sorry about that. I spaced out for a bit."

"No problem. I was just tellin' you that I'd meet ya at lunch to give you your payment for my party."

"Sure thing Gib. See ya then." Freddie pocketed his cell phone. He had to get to class before people started showing up, "Alright Reuben, I suppose I'll catch ya later."

"Don't let the monkey's stopper wig out on ya banger."

"Ummm… Yeah." What on Earth did that mean, "Later man."

Freddie walked to the bathroom to clean up. Being covered in Mayonnaise would certainly work against his aims to keep a low profile.

He kicked the bathroom door open with his foot, hoping to foil any traps that may have been laid for him. To his relief, nothing happened. He stepped into the bathroom and proceeded to clean himself off. Then he heard the bell ring.

"Crap."

He hurried and finished cleaning himself off and went to his class. He took his seat and placed his head on his desk, waiting for class to start. After, about, five minutes, He could hear the teacher begin to address the class.

"Alright, class. Get in, sit down, and shut up, you're on my time now."Freddie picked up his head to see the, imposing, Mr. Arnold glaring at him. "Get enough sleep, Mr. Benson?"

Freddie huffed, "Not nearly."

"Is that so?" Freddie heard the, almost, sadistic tone of his teacher's voice, "Then, maybe, you should move around a little. Get the blood flowing."

Freddie sighed to himself, muttering under his breath, "Crap."

"Mr. Benson!" The teacher exclaimed in a voice that was more boisterous than necessary, "Would you, please, come to the front and collect last night's homework?"

Freddie grumbled a bit more and moved to get up from his seat. Then he heard the last thing he wanted, or expected to hear. A silence shattering rip seemed to echo throughout the room. Then he felt a sickening draft up his backside. He shut his eyes tight in a futile attempt to disappear. The snickers that he heard from his classmates behind him slowly swelled to a grandiose laughter. He snapped out of his stupor and squatted down to pick up his bag. He quickly rushed from the classroom. He didn't even stop to look where he was going. It wasn't until he rounded a corner and spotted Sam leaning against her locker with a smirk on her face. He almost stopped but, luckily, the draft he felt reminded him of the gravity of the situation. He rushed through the doors and to his car… he drove home and didn't stop until he got there.

Sam's POV

That's right little boy. Run. Know the regret of facing Samantha J. Puckett in battle.

Well, I suppose I should survey the damage. Hmmm… that's Armstrong Arnold's class… wouldn't do too much good to go in. Better to just wait it out and question somebody as they're leaving.

Well may as well send a quick message while I wait.

Hmmm… I wonder how long this will actually take. Oh well, it's not like I have anywhere to be right now.

Oh look, Chang is coming out. If I remember correctly, she sits right behind Freddie. She should be able to fill me in nicely.

"Hey, Chang. What's up?"

"Um… my name's Chung, Sam. Stephanie Chung."

"Oh… right. Sorry… anyway, is Benson in class today?"

"You didn't hear? Someone put industrial strength quick dry cement on his seat. Mr. Arnold told him to get up and collect the homework, because he was sleeping in class. When Freddie stood up… well let's just say we could see London AND France."

What? "You mean everyone saw Freddie's-"

"UNDERPANTS!" I can't believe she just said that. "Cute butt though."

Ha, yeah right. "You sure it was Freddie's underpants you were lookin' at?"

"Oh yes, girl. Makes you wonder why he hasn't been snatched up."

This chick is off her rocker, "Maybe it was the way he fled the scene of his, apparent, humiliation."

"Oh yeah, there's that." She's so stupid, "But that can't happen to him all the time. Besides, there are rumors that he's hanging around with the new girl. They could become a 'thing' any day now… at least, that's the news from Wendy." Wait… what?, "Well I gotta run Sam, Armstrong sent me to get a janitor, he could come looking for me at any moment."

"Ok see ya."

This isn't right. Quick drying cement? I told Rueben to use honey. Now all plans have to be put on hold until tomorrow. That idiot managed to screw this up. I knew I shoulda just forced one of the AV nerds to help me. Well, now there's nothing left but to regroup and plan for tomorrow.

I can't believe that I have to call this moron again.

"Hello?"

"What did I ask you to bring?'

"Well… about that-"

"No, no. No excuses. Only answers." I can't believe I couldn't find better help than this, "What did I tell you to bring."

"Mayonnaise, honey, and super glue."

"Correct. Now, when we were talking yesterday during lunch, what did I tell you to do?"

"Well a kangaroo's gotta have a mash-"

"I said no excuses!" I don't have time for this nonsense, "You used, of all things, quick drying cement. Now, he's left the school. Do you know what that means?"

"Well-"

"Shut up! It means that all plans have to be pushed back. I'm tryin' to end this thing as soon as possible. Stick to my plan… No. More. Improvising. Am I understood?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll text you later with plans for our next assault."

Even though I'm upset about having to push my plans back, the look of humiliation was a nice treat.

And if you think that's bad, Benson…

… you ain't seen nothin' yet.

So there you have it. Another installment of War Games.

Again, to all those who have stuck with this story (if any) thank you. And to all of you who are jumping on board, thanks to you guys too. I will do my best not to disappoint.

Well that about wraps it up for this one.

I hope you enjoyed my fic. Please leave a review if you are so inclined. If you are not as inclined, then I hope you enjoyed reading my fic as much as (more than) I enjoyed writing it.

Until next time
Deuces
KL21