Chapter 12: Afterglow

"Yeah mom, we're fine. We're leaving in a couple hours. Yes, I'll make sure to eat breakfast first. Seriously mom – have I ever had to make sure Sam ate?"

Sam smiled as she drifted slowly from sleep. The warmth she'd felt surrounding her all night was gone. Freddie was up and, from the sounds of it, talking to his mother. Sam shifted in the bed, drawing the sheet around her body. Freddie was standing near the bathroom, facing away from her.

"We should be home by 4 or 5 at the latest. What? I'm not talking about that with you right now, Mom. No. No! Mom – we'll talk when I get home. Alright, I love you too."

Maybe it was the fact that she was still half asleep, or maybe it was what had happened in this room last night, but for some reason she was noticing things she hadn't before. His broad shoulders in that shirt, how the material stretched across his back and then fell loose to his jeans, covering his…"
"Good morning Sleeping Beauty." He turned and caught her staring at him. A sarcastic smile played on his lips and he put his phone on the table, walking toward her.

"Good morning yourself," she said. "Happy birthday." He slid into the bed beside her, his hand running softly under the sheet to trail up her waist before settling his hand on the small of her back. She shivered, fully awake now, and slid closer to him, settling when she found the spot in his arms where she fit best. "So how's it feel to be eighteen?"

"Right now, everything feels amazing." He breathed out a contented sigh and began to rub slow, lazy circles against her back. His touch reminded her that this was who they were now. They were a couple that knew each other's hidden places, who shared their bodies the same way they shared their hearts and afterwards lay naked in each other arms whispering, laughing into the darkness.

But there were other things, things they didn't show you in the chick flicks – complications to this newness. For instance, they'd had sex. There was no un-doing it—not that Sam wanted to-but did that mean they were supposed to do it all the time now? Now that she had a 'sex life,' something that boggled her mind, what exactly did that mean? Were they supposed to talk about it, or just let things happen naturally? And then there was the whole nakedness issue. He'd seen every part of her there was to see, so did that mean she was supposed to get up now and walk to the bathroom naked as the day she was born? And why was it that in the heat of the moment she'd barely been nervous about what he might see, but now in the light of day she was thinking of every imperfection and how it might look to him?

And she was sore. In those girly movies she'd watched, no one's first time had looked painful, a glaring error she now knew. In the movies, the next morning they all lept out of bed perfectly fine. She couldn't imagine leaping anywhere, since she felt like a small semi-truck had run between her legs. Not exactly the sexiest feeling in the world. If she was close to her mother or if Carly had any experience maybe she could ask one of them if it was supposed to feel like this. But as it stood Carly's V-card remained unswiped, and the only potential mother figure she had was Marissa-and this was not something she was going to discuss with the semi-truck driver's mother!

Then there was the problem bugging her most right now.

Morning breath.

As much as she loved Freddie, the idea of him kissing her before she'd brushed her teeth grossed her out a little. But what was she supposed to do? Never kiss him before she'd gotten out of bed? Keep breath mints under her pillow? Cupping a hand over her mouth, she breathed into it, trying not to draw attention to what she was doing. She scrunched up her nose, shaking her head.

Dragon breath alert – get this girl some toothpaste…STAT!

She needed to get in the shower. Freddie was already dressed and smelling like soap and mouthwash. And here she lay, her hair a mess, her breath strong enough to leap tall buildings in a single bound and smelling, for all the world, like sex. It was almost funny what a mess she was but from the hardness pressed against her leg as Freddie held her he wasn't in the mood to laugh. She laid a soft kiss on his chest and turned away, scooting toward the side of the bed.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Sorry, but if I stay in this bed much longer I may never get out of it."

"That was sort of my point," he said, leaning across the bed, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her back.

She was used to several versions of Freddie. There was nerd Freddie – the one who had a coronary over new software or the latest gadget. The same boy she'd spent an entire day with, watching him go nuts all things Galaxy Wars. That was the Freddie she'd spent most of her life making fun of. Then there was 'the good son' Freddie – Fredward in that version. This was the boy who showed impressive patience as his mother doted, coddled and smothered, the Fredward Benson of tick baths and impeccable hygiene. This summer she'd gotten used to 'boyfriend Freddie,' the guy who took her on dates and did stupid stuff like fighting guys twice his size out of love for her. This was her favorite version of him. But now, looking up at her with lust filled eyes, touching her exactly the way he knew she loved – this was 'sexy Freddie.' The one who kissed her breathless and touched her body with confidence. This was a Freddie she had to get used to.

She shook the cobwebs from her head and stood up fast, laughing as Freddie's head hit the mattress.

"Where are you going?" he whined.

"I've got sex hair and bad breath – I'm going to take a shower." She attempted to wrap the sheet around her and Freddie pulled back on it, leaving her uncovered.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Suit yourself, not like you haven't seen it already." She said with much more confidence than she actually felt, heading for the bathroom.

She showered and got ready, getting dressed in the bathroom. She found an Advil in her bag, hoping it would address the ache between her legs and joined Freddie in the room. It was late, she'd slept later than she should, and now they were rushing to get their bags together and check out. Well, in a reversal of roles, she was trying to get their stuff together while Freddie followed her around the room convinced they had just enough time.

"One for the road?"

She laughed at the puppy dog look on his face. Overnight her boyfriend had become a walking, talking hormone. She walked over to him, placing a slow kiss on his lips, feeling him pull her close. He started to walk them toward the bed. He thought he'd gotten his way.

Poor silly boy.

She put a hand to his chest, stopping him before she kissed her way up his jaw. "Not very fun when someone makes you wait is it?" she whispered in his ear before pulling away, laughing as he groaned and mumbled something about things not being fair.

"Get a move on Frederly, if I don't have you home soon your mother's gonna send out search dogs."

She grabbed the room keys and her purse, he grabbed the bags and they headed out to the lobby. She could appreciate it now, how beautiful the hotel was. Last night she'd been a jumbo basket full of nerves and she doubted she'd noticed much beyond the pounding of her heart. Walking hand in hand with Freddie through the lobby toward the hotel restaurant now, the worries from last night were gone. There were worries, sure – but they were new, different. They weren't the worries that come from wondering what you mean to someone, they were the worries that come from knowing what you mean, from realizing you've fallen too deep to get out unhurt.

They sat at the table waiting for their order – regular pancakes and bacon for him, a double stack with blueberry topping and extra bacon for her – and she was relieved that there wasn't any awkward silence, no stuttering and stammering trying to figure out what to say. They were talking now the same way they had before last night. She wondered, briefly, if that's how she'd come to classify things.

Before last night and after last night.

Not surprisingly she finished eating before him and amused herself by going through the Galaxy Wars Convention program he'd set on the table and taking advantage of the fact that she could now make fun of it all she wanted without breaking any promises. Flipping to the back page. she howled with laughter.

"Oh, my God, I didn't think the little dude had it in him!"

"What is it?" Freddie said, looking at the page she was pointing to.

"Did you read Nug Nug's autograph?"

Freddie wiped his mouth, setting his napkin in his plate, "Um, no – I was sort of pre-occupied looking at my half-dressed girlfriend." Sam pushed the program toward him still laughing as he read out loud.

'To Freddie 'my biggest fan': Your girlfriend is wicked hot. Congratulations. – Nug Nug"

Freddie frowned at her as she roared with laughter, "It's not funny Sam!"

"Oh, yes it is!" she laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. "Years from now you can show it to your nubby offspring and tell them that your girlfriend was hot!"

He turned his face toward her. "Or maybe," he said, "I can tell them that their mom was hot."
"Yeah…wait, what?"

Freddie shrugged his shoulders. "You know, maybe one day we'll have kids and I'll show this to them and they'll see how hot you were…are, you know what I mean."

This was a new development. Over the years they'd talked about the future in a vague sense – what they'd be like as adults, what kind of jobs they'd have, whether Freddie's mom would ever let him move out or quit writing his name in the waistband of his underwear. But this, this was concrete – he was talking about a future that involved her.

"What's wrong?" Freddie asked.

She fiddled with her napkin, looking at him from under her lashes. "You think about that?"

"Think about what?"

"About…you know, kids and.. marriage and stuff. You think about that…with me?"

He looked over at her, a little surprised that she'd ask the question. "Well, yeah – I guess I do. I mean, I don't think about it happening today or anytime soon. But – yeah," he said, grabbing her hand, "when I think about my future, picture where I'll be and what I'll be doing – I see you." He squeezed her hand. "Does that bother you?"

"No, I mean…"

"Be honest Sam. Tell me how you feel."
She sighed and looked up at him. "It doesn't bother me, it's just that, I don't know – I guess I just…I've never really thought about that sort of stuff." Seeing the hurt look on his face, she tried to explain. "Not that I don't want to be with you or anything I just…marriage and family, it's not something Pucketts seem to do all that well so I just never considered it before I guess. And… it's a little scary."
"Scary? Being with me scares you?"

"No! I don't mean it like that. It's not you that scares me, it's the whole 'till death do we part but usually it's over way before anybody dies' thing that scares me."

He understood that. If her mother was an example of the sanctity of marriage, then it stood to reason that Sam would view the whole thing as little more than pretense, a piece of paper not worth much more than what it cost to print it. He didn't blame her for her views, but it was different for him. His parents had been in love, even thirteen years after his death, he knew his mom still loved his dad. It was probably the reason she'd never re-married or dated anyone for long. He knew what love in the long term looked like. And he knew that marriage didn't work all the time – but sometimes it did.

He wasn't crazy; he knew that talking about the future with Sam was risky. She might be okay with it – or she might spook like a horse and take off running. He didn't want to scare her. He just wanted her to know exactly how serious he was.

"Listen Sam, I love you, and last night – that meant something to me. I wouldn't have done that if I didn't plan to be here, with you, for as long as you'll have me."

She smiled at him. 'Boyfriend Freddie,' always protecting her. She reached out and wiped syrup from the corner of his lip. "You're such a nub."

"A nub who loves you."

"A smart nub then." She laughed, "And I love you too. But in case this doesn't work out," she said nodding toward the convention program, "apparently there's always Nug Nug."

Seattle – 45 miles

They were almost home. He looked over at Sam. She was leaning against the passenger door, her hair hanging over her face, her feet in Freddie's lap. She'd passed out about an hour ago after breaking the news to him that she intended to tell Carly that they'd had sex.

Being friends with Carly when he and Sam had first started dating was difficult. There was never any awkwardness from Freddie's past crush on Carly, as he had initially feared. But Carly was used to being the one who took care of Sam and wasn't thrilled with the idea of Freddie taking that slot. After Sam's birthday, things had gotten much better and, before this weekend, they'd actually gotten almost back to normal. Now everything was going to be awkward again.

Sam said he was crazy, that he'd had sex with her, not Carly, so there wasn't any reason for things to get awkward. But Freddie knew better. It was just another thing about Sam and Freddie that Carly couldn't be involved in – and that was really hard for her. Now every time he and Sam were alone or Carly couldn't find them she'd be assuming they were …well, hopefully her assumption would be right sometimes, but that only made it more awkward.

He could see it now. As soon as they set foot back in Bushwell, Carly was going to get Sam alone and demand all the details. And if Sam gave her those details she'd know stuff about him that he wasn't really comfortable with her knowing. He'd been friends with them long enough to know that girls were almost as bad as guys with the locker room talk. Thankfully it seemed like they saved the more 'descriptive' conversations for their girls' nights when he wasn't there, but at the moment that just made him more nervous. What if they talked about specifics like what he looked like or whether it had been any good. He and Sam hadn't even discussed that yet. Then he'd be forced to interact with Carly, all the time wondering just how much she knew. This was going to be so weird.

Sam stirred beside him, shifting in her seat. She was wearing a T-shirt that hugged her curves and a pair of jeans slung low over her hips. As she moved her t-shirt raised just the tiniest bit and revealed the tan skin of her lower back. He remembered kissing that very spot, the way she'd squirmed and sighed when he'd done it.

He shook his head, turning his attention back to the road. He refused to be that guy. Just because they'd had sex didn't mean it needed to consume his every thought.

I am so not going to be the girl in this relationship, he thought.

Nope, he was a guy. A regular, warm blooded seventeen – no eighteen year old guy, one who had spent months trying to keep his desire for the gorgeous girl beside him in check. Now that they'd actually had sex, it was like turning a kid loose in a candy store. He wanted to respect her. He didn't want to make the assumption that having sex once meant they'd be going at it like rabbits from here on out. But part of him, a very specific part, was having a difficult time with that idea.

Like Déjà vu, every time he thought of last night it was like being there again. He could practically taste her on his tongue, feel her under him, around him…

BEEEP

Freddie swerved back into his own lane, having drifted over while daydreaming. This is what she did to him – what just the memory of being with her did to him – made him blind to everything but her.

One thing made it a little easier – he loved her. Unlike some of the guys he went to school with, this wasn't a rush to have as much sex as he could before he got bored and tossed her to the side. He had no intention of tossing her to the side, and the idea of Sam every boring him was unthinkable. Being with her was exciting – even when they weren't doing anything exciting. Sex might be a part of their relationship now – but it wasn't the whole of it. As far as he was concerned, Sam was his future – even if the idea seemed to scare her.

Sitting behind the steering wheel, Sam asleep beside him, he could pick up this scene and place it ten years in the future, throw a couple of kids in the back, and be just as happy as he was now.

'Shit…maybe I am the girl'

The closer he got to Seattle, the more he began to think of all the things he needed to get done. School started in just two weeks. With it being senior year there were a million things he needed to do, decisions to make. Unlike most of the kids in his class, he'd had his top five schools picked out since the beginning of junior year. He knew the requirements for acceptance and had been careful to make sure he met them all. Now, with less than twelve months until graduation he was excited, but scared. It was going to be a whole new life. Living, hopefully, away from his mother for the first time. Making his own decisions, living his own life.

His first choice in schools had been The National Institute of Technology; N.I.T in Washington, D.C. It was the premier school for technology in the country – they only took the best and the brightest. Freddie was pretty sure he could get in, his grades were good, he had all the right extra-curriculars and his experience as tech producer of a popular webshow wouldn't hurt his chances either. But just to be sure he had the best chance possible, he'd applied to a special program the college offered. For one week between Christmas and New Year's a group of 100 students from across the country would converge on N.I.T. for a week of networking with the country's brightest scholars and a preview of college-level engineering classes. If he got in, his acceptance to the next freshman class was a foregone conclusion. He'd put in his application in April, just a week before he and Sam started dating. He hadn't even told her about it, sure that she'd just make fun of him. But now that things between them were so serious, the butterflies in his stomach had less to do with worry over his acceptance and everything to do with how Sam might react.

She knew he wanted to go to N.I.T. She knew how far away it was and she'd never said one word about him not going. But when he thought about being so far away from her, for at least four years, he felt a cold panic creep up his spine. Long distance relationship didn't work statistically, and in any case, he wanted her around him – ever day if possible. But Sam coming to Washington, D.C. was unlikely – she didn't really have the grades for any of the schools there and if he asked her just to tag along he was pretty sure she'd punch him squarely in the throat, or worse.

So very soon he'd be making a decision – whether to chase his dream and leave the only girl he'd ever really loved behind, or to stay in Seattle to be with her. She'd be just as mad if he gave up his dream school to stick around Seattle. It was really a lose-lose situation.

He shook his head against the thought. First things first. If he didn't get into the program he might not even have to worry about leaving Sam. The University of Washington was a great school with a great engineering program. He could easily attend UW and not worry about the certain failure of a long distance relationship. As his Nana Benson would say he was 'borrowing trouble.' He'd worry about it when the time came. And in the meantime he'd enjoy every minute he had to spend with Sam.

He looked over at Sam and realized that he had no idea what she planned to do after graduation. Whenever he and Carly had discussed college, Sam had either taken advantage of the time to take a nap or blown it off with a 'graduation is forever away…assuming I do graduate.' Sometimes she blurted out options just to freak Carly out. His favorite was when she'd said she was considering a career as a circus contortionist. After last night he had no doubt she was fully capable of that, but he wondered what she'd really do.

Sam was smart, though she went out of her way not to let anyone know. She hated expectations, he knew that much. If people knew she was smart they'd start expecting too much and she'd get irritated. Generally he and Carly accepted this but suddenly he was wondering if maybe, as her boyfriend, he should be taking more of an interest in helping her figure out her after grad plans. He didn't want to make her feel bad or make it seem as if he was trying to 'fix' her, but maybe he could figure out a way to do it so that it wasn't overbearing. Maybe he could use some of the Puckett manipulation skills to make her think it was her idea for him to help.

Maybe.

He saw the exit for Seattle ahead of them and sighed. Time to get back to real life. This had been the best weekend of his life and he wasn't ready to end it just yet, but as he pulled onto the off ramp he felt a familiarity settling over him. They were home. It was time for this new version of Sam and Freddie to face the world.

"Sam. Sam? Sam!"

She stretched, twisting her back as she struggled to sit up.

"No need to blow out my eardrums. I'm awake!"

Freddie laughed beside her, patting her legs as she pulled them from his lap and sat straight in the passenger's seat, wiping sleep from her eyes. She'd slept the whole trip, the pain pill combined with her food coma and coming down from the excitement of the weekend had wiped her out. She'd slept the whole trip. Maybe she should have filled Freddie up with pancakes and sex instead of Dramamine to knock him out for the trip to Portland.

"You ready for this?" he said, looking over at her.

"Ready for what?"

"Seeing everybody, getting back to normal life. Getting ready for school to start."

"Do not say that word to me! We still have two weeks before it starts. Until then I'd like to pretend that dreaded academic prison doesn't exist thank you very much."

"Whatever you say, Princess." He looked at his watch. He'd told him mother they'd be home by five. It was about five minutes to five. Right on cue his phone started ringing.

"Your mom?" Sam asked.

He nodded, answering the phone. "Yes mom. We're here already. No, we're in the parking garage. What? Sam? Yeah she's with me." He looked over at Sam and rolled his eyes. "What? Mom we're really tired, she's probably just gonna go to Carly's. No Mom, I will not ask her that. Okay, fine. I'll see you in a few minutes." He shoved his phone into his pocket.

"What was that all about?"

"Huh? Oh, my mom wanted me to have you come over tonight. She wants to talk to you."

"About what?"
"Heck if I know."

Sam laughed, "Probably wants to look me in the eye when she asks you if we had sex."

"Sam!"

"What?! You think she doesn't want to know if I deflowered her wittle Fweddie?" she reached over and tickled him.

"That's not funny, Sam."

"It is, especially since I am the best liar you know. She'll never get it out of me."

He huffed, pulling the keys from the ignition.

"That is, unless you want me to tell her." She scooted across the seat, throwing her leg over Freddie's and leaning in to whisper in his ear. "I can tell her what you did to me, give her a blow by blow on how I made a man out of you."

"You wouldn't," he said, not entirely sure.

Sam flicked his ear lobe and went back to her seat, "Cool your jets Romeo, I'd rather eat glass then talk about sex with Marissa 'Abstinence is the best defense' Benson." She laughed and reached for the door handle, "Now let's hurry up, I gotta take a waz."

"You're such a delicate flower Sam, really." He laughed as he exited the car, pulling their bags out of the trunk. Sam ran ahead of him, pushing the elevator call button. "Don't suppose you're gonna help me carry these?"

She reached out a hand to him as he caught up to her at the elevator. "Hello, have we met? My name is Sam Puckett…and I don't carry bags."

He entered the elevator and stood beside her, smiling as she did the 'I really gotta pee' dance all the way to the eighth floor. When they reached the hallway between his and Carly's apartments he pulled her into a hug, not wanting to let her go. Burying his face in her hair, he soaked up the moment – sure that whatever conversation he was getting ready to have with his mother wouldn't be nearly as nice as being here with Sam, nowhere close.

She pushed at his chest and smiled up at him.

"Go face the firing squad, while I go talk to the chief inquisitor."

He groaned but let her go, setting her bag outside Carly's door and giving her one last kiss before walking toward his apartment. Pausing outside his door he looked back at her.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" she turned to face him, her hand poised over the Shay's doorknob.

"Thanks…for everything. Best. Birthday. Ever."

"Don't get used to it," she said, knocking on Carly's door.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he laughed, opening the door to his apartment. "See you later?"

"Same bat time, Same bat channel."

"And I'm the geek?" he laughed, walking into his apartment.

"Hidy-Ho Shay siblings!" Sam called out as she walked into the apartment, tossing her bag to the side.

"Sam!" There was a blur of brown hair and then Sam felt her arm nearly jerked from the socket as Carly rushed from the kitchen across the living room and grabbed Sam, pulling her toward the stairs. "I thought you never get here! Let's go, you gotta tell me everything!"

"Hey Sam!" Spencer called from the couch.

"Not now Spencer!" Carly screamed as she pulled Sam along up the stairs. "Girl time!"

Sam shrugged at Spencer and followed Carly as fast as her short legs would allow.

"Slow down! You're gonna break my arm and then I won't be able to tell you anything!"

Carly let go and Sam entered her bedroom, the door slamming behind her as Carly bounded over to the bed and patted the spot beside her. Her face was flushed and she was already in her favorite Girly Cow pajamas. Beside the bed were three bowls filled to the brim with Sam's favorite snacks: Fat Cakes, bacon flavored Fadoodles and sour cream and onion Spindles.

Sam sat down and stretched out, leaning against Carly's head board with her eyes closed. She said nothing, knowing that her silence was killing Carly. Sure enough, when she peeked at her friend Carly was bouncing impatiently on the bed, looking as if she might explode at any minute. She'd told Freddie it was going to be like this. He was mortified when she told him that she planned to tell Carly they'd had sex. But Carly was her best friend – some secrets you just didn't keep from best friends. He said it would make things weird. She told him to suck it up because she was going to tell Carly. She did, however, agree not to discuss any anatomical specifics. But as prissy as Carly was…Sam doubted she'd want to know about Freddie's manly parts. And manly they were, she thought, a slow smile spreading over her face.

"Well?" Carly shouted, "Are you gonna sit there all night with that dopey grin or are you gonna talk?" she wagged a finger at Sam. "And the correct answer to that question is 'talk!'"

Sam laughed and sat up. "Well, Carlotta, the short story is…" she drew out the pause for dramatic effect, "you can officially consider this V-card…swiped!"

"Oh My God!" Carly screamed and buried her face in the pillow she was holding. Raising up to look at Sam her face was flushed red, her eyes wide. "I can't believe you actually did it! I mean I know you were planning to and then you said you were gonna and you bought all that stuff at build a bra and so then I really figured you would but..."she stopped to catch her breath, "you really did it!"

Sam nodded and then they lasped into silence. She hadn't really thought about what direction the conversation would take after she'd told Carly the deed had been done. She looked over at her best friend who was staring at her biting her lip nervously. This was new for them. Other than wearing a bra, Sam had never done anything before Carly. Carly got kissed first, she got felt up first, she'd even gotten her period first. She'd been the one sitting on the bed asking question after uncomfortable question. It was strange for the shoe to be on the other foot.

What was she supposed to say? How in the world was she supposed to describe what happened last night without dying of embarrassment? She'd done and said things last night that seemed entirely right in the moment but telling other people? God, she felt like an oversexed porn star. She played with her nails as she rocked back and forth on the bed, waiting for Carly to say something – anything. Not knowing what else to do to fill the silence she reached over and stuffed a Fat Cake in her mouth.

"So…" Carly said, playing with a loose thread on her pillow, "was it…fun?"

Sam laughed, spitting pink dough and bits of filling all over the bed. "Fun?"

"Yeah, you know, did you…like it?"

"Okay, Carls…creepiest question ever!" She moved to the side, dodging the pillow Carly threw at her. "What do you want me to say?" Carly looked at her sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders. Sam smiled at her friend. It made sense she supposed. If she were a virgin and her best friend had just had sex she'd want said best friend to tell her what to expect – what it was really like, not the chick flick, fairy tale version. "Okay, well, first of all, all that crap in those movies you force me to watch? Throw it out the window. It's not like that at all."

"It's bad?" Carly looked terrified.

"No! I mean," she sighed; she was doing a terrible job of this. "There were good parts, and some bad parts…" she closed her eyes and smiled, "and some really freaking awesome parts. What do you want to hear first?"

Carly leaned her head to the side and thought. "Give me the good part…and," she rolled her eyes, "the really freaking awesome parts"

"Well, the room was amazing, and, God, I was so nervous! I'm not sure if I took off my clothes or they shook off by themselves." She laughed, "But Freddie was so sweet and, I don't know, gentle I guess."

"Aww!"

"Can it Shay or I'm not saying another word." Carly ran a finger over her mouth, zipping her lips. "Okay, well when we, you know, did it…"

"Did it hurt?"

Sam cast her a warning glance. "Yeah, I mean it hurt at first but then…then it was like, like flying in my skin. I don't think anything in the world has ever felt that good. It was better than the Chinese buffet! Better than…"

"Free ham?"

Sam looked at her solemnly, "Even better than that."

"Whoa."

"True chizz."

"So that was the really awesome part?"

"No, that was the good part. But the best part was after, like right after? Just lying there…just me and Freddie. It just felt…happy, ya know? Like the happiest I'd ever felt because I knew that even if that hadn't happened, he'd have loved me anyway."

Carly's face crinkled and Sam blushed. "If you cry I swear I'm gonna punch you."

"I'm not crying!" Carly said, unconvincingly. "I've just got something in my eye."

Sam drew her knees up to her chin, smiling at the memory of what being in Freddie's arms had felt like. What being with him, closer than anyone else had ever been, had felt like.

Carly wiped her eyes and sat up straighter on the bed. "So, what about…the bad part?"

"Oh, that's easy. The bad part was this morning."

"This morning? What happened?"

"Well, remember how I said it hurt a little last night? Well, it must have been endolphins."

"Endorphins?"

"Yeah, whatever. It must have been those because this morning it felt like a village of dwarves with pick axes had tried to set up shop in my lady parts!"

"Oh my God!" Carly cringed, "Stop! I don't want to hear anymore!"

Sam shrugged, "Well, cupcake, you asked."

"Dwarves?"

"Yep."

"With pick axes?"

"Mmm Hmm."
"That's awful!"

"Yeah," She grinned wickedly, "But totally worth it."

"So…what happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you guys, you know…did it. Doesn't that change things? Doesn't that change like…everything?"

Sam looked at her friend – and wondered the exact same thing.

"Mom! I'm home!" Freddie called out as he walked into the apartment. He hung his keys on the hook by the door as his mom came down the hall, trying to look nonchalant when he knew she'd probably been looking out the peephole every five minutes since he'd talked to her.

"Freddie!" she ran over to him, grabbing him in a bone crushing hug. Pulling back she kept her hands on his shoulders giving him a once over. "Happy Birthday honey!" He saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "I can't believe you're eighteen, a legal adult."

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek. She might be nuts sometimes – or most of the time, but he loved her.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to sit on the sofa.

"So! Tell me all about your weekend!"

'Here we go' he thought.

"It was great!" he said, offering nothing more. Sam had trained him well – give away as little information as possible.

"Just great?"

"Really great!"

"Really great?" she frowned, "What was so really great about it?"

'Shoot, I should have just kept it at great'

"Um, well, GalaxyCon was awesome and Sam got us backstage passes and I met Nug Nug…"

"Wow, that sounds wonderful honey. And what did you do…after the convention?"

"Huh?"

"After the convention Freddie. What did you do afterwards?"

"Oh, well, um.."

'Stop stuttering Freddie, you're giving yourself away!'

"We, uh, went to the hotel."
'And I spent the rest of the night having sex with my girlfriend in the room I was supposed to be sleeping alone in'

"Oh, was it a nice hotel?"

"Yeah, it was."

"The rooms were nice?"

"Yeah,"
"And you…had a good night's sleep?"
'Didn't get much sleep, but what I did get was definitely good!' he thought, immediately shaking the thought from his head.

"Oh, yeah…I, uh, slept good."

He clucked his tongue, looking everywhere but at his mother's face. The room around them was full of all the questions she was afraid to ask…and the answers he refused to give.

"So…" she said, "You, um, had a good time?"

"Yeah, Mom…I already told you that."

"And Samantha? She had a good time too?"

'Boy did she ever' he thought, more than a little smug.

"Yes, mom."

"I see, well, that's…nice."

Freddie rolled his eyes. It was painfully obvious that what his mother wanted to know. It was equally obvious that she was never going to come out and ask, and while a discussion about his newly minted sex life was the last thing he wanted to have with his mother, he knew she'd never stop until they did.

"Mom…is there something you want to ask me?"

She raised her eyebrows, shrugging her shoulders in an attempt to look unfazed, "Is there something that I should be asking you?"

"Come on mom…" he said, "Seriously, could you make this anymore awkward? Just spit it out, please – so we can never talk about it again. Like ever."

"You and Samantha, you…" to her credit, the usually invasive Marissa looked just as uncomfortable as he felt. "didn't have separate rooms?"

He lifted his head, forcing himself to look into her eyes. "No Mom…we didn't."

"I see. And I assume there was only one bed in that room."

"Yeah…" he said softly.

"So you…"

He didn't want to lie to his mother, not because he wasn't capable but because while he might be embarrassed to be discussing it with her, he wasn't ashamed of what he'd done. He was eighteen years old, he'd waited longer than almost any guy he knew – well other than Germy whose virginity was, well, understandable. And he loved Sam, she wasn't just some easy girl he'd met in the hall at school and screwed in a broom closet (which was, incidentally, how Gibby described his first time). He'd waited until he'd found someone who really meant something to him. And they had been responsible. He wasn't ashamed of what he'd done, and he wasn't going to let his mom make it into some dirty little secret.

"Yeah, Mom…we did."

He waited for her to say something. Watching as her eyes filled with tears and she drew in a deep breath. He hated the look he saw on her face. Hated that he might have hurt or disappointed her. He wanted her to understand, to see it the way he did. For all of his life, his mother had been there. People called her overprotective – smothering even, but underneath the annoyance she sometimes brought out in him, he knew that she did what she did because she loved him. And he knew that she'd always trusted him to what was right in the end. He didn't want that to change.

"Mom," She kept her head down, shaking it from side to side, "Mom, look at me, please." Marissa raised her head and Freddie fought to find the words to make her understand, to make her trust him. "Yes, Sam and I had sex. But we were responsible, and Sam isn't some girl I just met. I love her, Mom. I thought you'd be proud that I waited for someone that I love."

Marissa sighed and shook her head softly, walking back over to the couch to sit beside him. She looked at him for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she reached out and patted his cheek.

"You really love her?"

He nodded his head. "Yeah, I do."

"And you think she loves you the same way?"

"I know she does."

"And you were…safe?"

"Of course."

She nodded her head. "You know, Freddie. Sam doesn't come from a family like ours. I mean, she's not used to being treated well."

"I know that, Mom."

"Let me finish." He sat back, listening. "If you're going to have this kind of…relationship with her, you need to make sure you're in it for the long haul. She acts tough, but if you hurt her…"

He reached across and grabbed her hand. "Mom, you don't have to worry. I'm not going to hurt her. Ever." Giving her hand a squeeze, he stood up and grabbed his bag, "Now if we're done with the world's most uncomfortable conversation, I'm going to go unpack."

Marissa nodded and watched as her son – her baby boy who was now a man, walked down the hall to his room. Sighing she shook her head, thinking about how sincere he sounded when he said he'd never hurt Sam.

'Oh, Freddiebear,' she said into the silent room, 'One day you'll see – that's not an easy promise to keep.'

Sam sat alone in the Shay's living room, her feet propped on the coffee table, her phone in her hands. Carly had fallen asleep in her room an hour ago and from the loud snores coming from down the hall, Spencer was asleep too. Freddie had texted her a couple of hours ago and said that he and his mother were going out to dinner but that he'd text her when he was back so that she could come over. Looking down she smiled as her phone vibrated with an incoming text.

Frednub: Home…you still coming over?

Sam: Where's your mom?

Frednub: In bed I think

Sam: On my way…open the window.

Scrambling off the sofa she grabbed the Shay's spare key from over the door and headed to Freddie's. Climbing out the window at the end of the hall, she walked across the fire escape to the stairs ended outside of Freddie's open window. She squeezed through and landed on his floor with a thud. The door to Freddie's bathroom opened and he walked out, running a towel over his wet hair. He wore a dark blue t-shirt and thin cotton pajama pants. Even from across the room she could smell him: toothpaste, soap and cologne. Absentmindedly she licked her bottom lip.

"See something you like Puckett?" he said, dropping the towel on his bed as he walked towards her. When he reached her he silenced her answer, bringing his lips to hers. It took her a minute to stop being dizzy and remember that his mother was just down the hall. She pushed at his chest.

"I missed you," he said against her ear.

"You just saw me like four hours ago!" she whispered.

"Doesn't matter…" he said, dragging his lips down her jaw, to the hollow of her neck, "still true."

"Freddie, stop! Your mom's here! And I do not feel like a Marissa Benson sex-ed lecture. I bet she's got manuals and visual aids!"

"Um, yeah…about that. I um, talked to my mom tonight."

"Wait a minute…talked to your mom about what?"

"I told her, you know, what happened."

"You'd better be talking about meeting Nug Nug…or what we had for breakfast, Freddie!"

"Calm down Sam…and lower your voice!"

"You told your mother, your mother, that we had sex?!" she hissed.

"Yes…but I swear…she's cool!"

"Cool? Marissa Benson is cool with you and me making the beat with two backs? There must be pigs flying over a frozen lake of fire."

"I'm telling you, she…"

Before he could finish, there was a soft knocking on the door. Sam cursed and dove toward the side of his bed, facing away from the door, scooting as close as she could get to being underneath it and covering herself with his comforter.

Freddie's door opened and his mother peeked her head in, smiling at him.

"What's up, Mom?" he said, trying to look calm and not accidently look at the place where his girlfriend was attempting to remain hidden. His mom had been okay with the discovery that Sam and Freddie had sex. And during dinner she'd given him a refresher course on what it meant to 'be responsible', but Sam in his room at midnight – he wasn't sure how that would go over. "Did you need something?"

Marissa's eyes scanned the room. "No, I just got myself a glass of water and saw your light on. Is everything okay?"

Freddie was watching the bed from the corner of his eye, "Huh? Oh, yeah! I'm, uh, I'm good!" He made an exaggerated point of stretching and yawning, "Just tired ya know, gonna go to bed I think."

Marissa raised an eyebrow and looked at him intently for a minute. "Well alright. Good night, honey." She began to retreat from the room and Freddie almost breathed a sigh of relief, watching as Sam began to scoot from her hiding place. Then her voice called back into the room from the hallway.

"Good night Samantha!"

Freddie's eyes went wide as Sam poked her head from the side of the bed, both of them looking at the door as his mother's face appeared in the doorway.

"Uh, Good night Marissa," Sam said sheepishly.

Marissa nodded knowingly, and retreated again into the hallway. Her voice carried back into the room.

"Oh, and Sam?"

"Yes?"

"If you're going to stay overnight, please make sure your mother knows where you are, and next time you come over? Use the door."

Sam and Freddie sat in shocked silence, listening to his mother chuckling as she walked into her room and shut the door.

They spent the rest of the night lounging on his bed, watching movies and talking about nothing and everything all at once. Eventually they drifted off and when Sam opened her eyes, it was nearly three in the morning. Remembering what Marissa had said, she untangled herself from Freddie's arms and headed for his desk where her phone sat so that she could call her mother. She sat down in the chair and leaned back, cursing as she sent a stack of papers tumbling from the desk. Setting her phone down, she leaned over to pick them up, when one of them with an official looking seal caught her eye. She looked over at the bed, making sure Freddie was asleep. His chest rose and fell as he lay on the bed, arms outstretched.

Unfolding the letter as quietly as she could she stared down at the seal – it was an emblem actually. A bright red crest, outlined in gold with the letters N.I.T. emblazoned across it.

National Institute of Technology. Freddie's dream school.

Feeling strangely guilty she quickly read over the letter.

'Dear Mr. Benson,

We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance…'

She read the rest of the letter, feeling her stomach sink a bit more with each line. He'd gotten into N.E.R.D. camp after all. This one would take place in Washington, D.C. over Christmas break.

"Sam?"

She jumped, dropping the letter. She'd been so absorbed she hadn't hear Freddie as he woke and now he sat sleepily rubbing at his eyes as he looked at her.

"Oh, hey…"

"What time is it?"

"Really late…or early. Go back to sleep."

He leaned his head to the side as Sam scooped up the letter on the floor and attempted to put it back on the desk.

"What are you…" He caught sight of the N.I.T crest from across the room and wanted to kick himself. The letter had come when while they were away this weekend. When he'd read the words 'offer you acceptance' he'd been so happy, until he realized – this made the decision he thought he'd have time to make much more imminent. "Sam," he scooted to the edge of the bed, close to the desk. "Don't be mad. It just came while we were away. I was going to tell you about that tomorrow."

She looked up at him and smiled but he saw something, something off in her eyes. "Mad? Why would I be mad? You got into the school of your nerd dreams." She laughed softly and stood, walking to the bed and sitting down beside him. "I'm…I'm happy for you."

"I don't have to go you know. Not at Christmas, or…at all." He whispered the last part, looking down at his hands.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't you go?"

"N.I.T - it's in Washington, D.C." he looked over at her, "We'd be apart most of the time – for a long time." He waited for her to say something but she continued to stare at her hands, picking at her nails. "Besides," he said, "UW is a great school! Their engineering program is great and I'd be right here in Seattle so we'd still be together and…"

"Freddie, stop," she said, so softly he almost didn't hear her.

"But Sam…"

"No, Freddie." Finally she looked at him, "You really want to go to this school right?" he didn't answer, "Right?"

"Yeah…I guess so."

"You guess? You've wanted this since you were like twelve!"

"Eleven," he said.

"Exactly. And, one of the things I love about you – what makes you different from the other wazbags I've dated is you actually want something out of life! You have like, goals, plans for your life. And I'm incredibly proud of you for that. Most of the people I know barely have plans for the weekend!" She turned on the bed, facing him with one knee drawn up to her chin. "I want you to have what you want."

"But, I want you, Sam."

She sighed. "I don't know a whole lot about having a healthy relationship or whatever. But I do know that we can't be all that each other wants. We have to want something outside of this." She said, waving a finger between them. "I need you to promise me something."

"Anything, Princess."

"I want you to promise me, that we'll never let being together, stop us from chasing our dreams." She looked at him, "Promise me?"

He nodded half-heartedly, certain that, at some point, he'd regret his response. "Yeah, I promise. But understand that whatever I wind up doing, you're part of the decision."

He walked back to the head of his bed and climbed in, patting the spot beside him. Sam crawled across the bed and laid beside him, turning to lay her head on his chest. She tried to even out her breathing and push back the thoughts that had begun to tumble into her head the minute she'd read that letter.

"So…are we good?" Freddie said.

"Yeah, Benson. We're good."

"And this school thing…it doesn't change anything right?"

"Relax, Freddie!" she said.

"I need to hear you say it, Sam."

She looked up and stared into his face, his eyes were troubled. Leaning up she kissed him softly. "Nothing changes."

Freddie kissed the top of her head and settled on the bed, pulling her close to him. As his breath became deep and even she lay awake, unable to shake the thoughts of her earlier conversation with Carly. Despite her best attempts to ignore it, Carly's question returned over and over.

'Doesn't that change things?'

Doubt began to drift into her mind – an ominous fog. And in that moment she was entirely sure that no matter the promises they'd just made – this might just change everything.

A/N2:

So that's it, the last chapter of Summer of Love. I hope you guys have enjoyed it.

The sequel - Until the World Ends, will be posted this evening as part of the iCarly mass posting event.

Stay tuned!

TheWrtrInMe & DwynArthur