iRegret

Okay, so guys, this is my first fanfic, be nice! UPDATED TO MAKE IT EASIER TO READ!

Disclaimer: I SO don't own iCarly. If I did, I would be Dan Schneider. And Dan Schneider is not a pre—teen GIRL, is HE?

Chapter 1 – Sam's POV

I had just the idea of a brilliant prank to pull on Freddork.

I would sound very sad in a phone call to him, telling him to come over soon and quick.

In fact, the quicker the better, my friends. Since he even was gullible enough to think that one day was Clown Day, Clown Day for Pete's (no relation to the guy who I once went on a "daffodil date" with, and broke up with when I caught him cheating on me.) sake!

Okay, so I'll laugh at him when he believes what I told him, but that's for me to know and him to find out…

Freddie's POV

Ring! Ring! There goes my home phone, old style.

My mom says that cell phones or any cordless phones will subtract brain cells, and I do not want to lose ANY of my smarts, because if I suddenly forgot 12x12, I'd be lowered to just a measly member of the AV club, and kicked out of the Young Businessmen's Club, and, worst yet, I'd get a B, ruining my straight A 100 percent perfect streak!

Plus, my mom would get really angry if I bought my own cell phone.

Ring! Ring!

Oops, forgot about the phone. It's probably T-Bo calling that he can't deliver that Strawberry Splat smoothie I ordered, due to Spencer bringing in another sculpture that might have been set on fi-

Ring! Ring!

I picked up the phone. "T-Bo?" I asked, not bothering to check the caller-ID. "No, it's Sam you idiot…" spoke what I earlier thought was T-Bo but I now knew was Sam.

Funny, she sounded faint and not as aggressive as she usually was. "Oh. Hey, Sam."

"Freddie…."

Okay, something is fishy here! She never calls me Freddie! "Freddie, come to my house... I… I need you… he-"

Her voice was cut off and the call ended.

I think I heard crying right before the call ended.

Was Sam in denial?

Or something much much worse?

Only one way to find out, and that was to run to Sam's house, or she'd beat me with a 10-pack roll of Fat-Cake wrapping paper because I was late and not caring enough to pursue her troubling worries that caused he to cry and come to me for help.

That last time she came to me for help was when… No. No! This can't be! Is Missy there?

I ran faster, that turned into a gallop. Pretty soon I was sprinting, and I had a few quarters ready in case I needed to call the police, because Sam doesn't have a cellular phone.

But don't get me, wrong, her mom is a little teensy weensy bit overprotective, but that's not the reason.

Okay, I lied. Sam's mom is not overprotective at all.

In fact, since she cared so little, she didn't give a *insert appropriate bad word for us pre-teens here to read* when Sam was sent to juvie, so I had to bail her out countless times, even though she annoys me.

I did it because she has such beautiful hazel eyes; fierce and glorious indeed. Wait a sec. Where the heck did that come from?

Meh, I must be eating too much of the strange but yummy Bepto Pismol my mom puts in my food.

The stuff that she gave me ever since I had a light fever and puked up some chizz.

Okay, the reason why Sam doesn't have a cell is that she gets in juvie so many times that they'd just take away all her phones, so she doesn't bother buying them anymore.

Oh, and she doesn't have a home phone because when Pam, Sam's mom's name, yells at Sam's rabid cat Frothy to get a job, Frothy attacked the phone, causing it to explode and Pam never did bother trying to fix it.

Okay, now I was at Sam's house.

Creeeeaaaaak. Creeeaaaak. Creeeeaaaak.

After an eternity of creaky porch stairs, I was at Sam's door.

I skipped the obnoxious Girly Cow Theme Song doorbell and rapped on the door, using my old childhood knocking pattern that I learned from Sindiana Jones.

Knock knock knock knock knock, knock knock.

A voice was heard from inside. "Freddifer... stop your knocking and get in here.

Oh yeah. I forgot that Sam keeps her door unlocked so she could have a chance to practice tackling assassin on burglars.

Nice, Sam. Nice. I stepped inside and was immediately attacked by what I thought was Frothy, but this was way too soft and pillowly. But then, the thing bit me in the arm! Yowch!

Kay guys, again, first fic, DON'T BE HARSH. I don't have much time, with homework and all that chizz. Oh, and if you think chizz is spelled with one "Z" then think again or sue Google and it's spellcheck! Yeah, it can be wrong, but TRUST me. Yeah, sorry for the really short chappie and that chizz. I love the word chizz. Chizz. :D

TTYL, XDJennetteMcCurdyXD