iDaddy

iGet Offered Help

The next morning, Freddie and I walked into school hand-in-hand. When we got to the lockers, I was surprised to see Sam pinning a Sophomore girl to a locker, looking pissed.

"What is she?" demanded Sam.

"Beautiful, talented, and smart," recited the girl.

"And what are you?"

"Ugly, mediocre, and stupid."

"And how sorry are you?"

"Very sorry," the sophomore whimpered.

"Not good enough," Sam snapped.

"Totally sorry!"

"Still not good enough!"

"Completely sorry!"

"Still not good enough!"

I, however, had heard enough. I stormed over, and pulled Sam away by her ponytail.

"Ow!" Sam gasped, as I dragged her over to our lockers. "Hair, hair, hair, hair!"

"What is your Dill Pickle?" Sam asked, as soon as I released her.

I fixed her with a very disappointed look. "Sam, we had the bullying talk," I reminded her.

"Yeah," she replied. "We did. Maybe you should have it with that chica."

I looked at her, confused. "What the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks are you talking about?"

Sam smirked at me. "We'll have the talk about your unfortunate aversion to foul language later. Again. But right now, I need to warn you - today is gonna be a total shit fest."

I gulped, not liking the sound of that. "What do you mean?"

"I tried deleting all the mean comments off the page last night, but it was hopeless trying to get them all, so I just disabled the comments section entirely from that episode. But that Sophomore chick, Sarah or whatever, made it pretty clear that she was gonna turn the whole school against you because you're - and I quote - 'a slutty teenage baby machine.'"

My stomach dropped to my knees. "Oh, no," I whimpered.

Freddie, however, was livid. "I'm gonna kill that bitch," he growled. "I'll rip her apart with my bare hands!"

Sam grinned at Freddie. "Jeez, Fredward," she said. "I'm impressed. I've never seen that kind of fire in you. Looms good on you."

"Let me hear one person talk shit on my fiancee, and so help me God, I'll have detention until I graduate next year!"

"Don't, Freddie," I pleaded. "They're just words. It doesn't matter."

Behind us, a throat cleared. We turned to see Principal Franklin standing there.

"Freddie," he said, "Carly, can I please see you in my office?"

My stomach dropped from my knees all the way to my feet. Freddie looked like he'd rather be force-fed slugs. 

"Don't worry," Principal Franklin assured us. "You're not in trouble."

Freddie and I sighed with relief.

"Later, Dudes," Sam said, turning away.

"Wait," I said, turning to Principal Franklin. "Can Sam come, too?"

Sam glared at me. The Principal's Office was her absolute least favorite - yet most frequented - room in the whole school. Principal Franklin nodded. "Yes," he agreed. "Perhaps Sam had better come, too."

We followed Principal Franklin, Sam quite reluctantly, to his office. When we arrived inside it, Principal Franklin closed the door, and motioned to the three chairs in front of his desk.

"Please," he said kindly, "have a seat."

We sat in the chairs, and Principal Franklin sat behind his desk.

"Now," he said, "I have been more than alerted about the situation between Carly and Freddie."

All three of us opened our mouths to defend ourselves, but Principal Franklin silenced us by raising his hand. "I promised you that you aren't in trouble," he reminded us, "and I hold to that. I'm simply wishing to offer my assistance."

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"Firstly," Principal Franklin began, "and this is my decision, not your choice, if anybody - student or staff - speaks a single word against Carly or Freddie, the consequences will be severe. If any of you hear a single negative comment about the situation at hand, you are to report it to me as soon as possible. Understood?"

We all nodded our heads in understanding.

"Second, my wife happens to be a licensed therapist who specializes in relationship therapy and couples counseling. She wishes to meet the three of you after school, and offer Carly and Freddie assistance with anything you are in need of, anything from counseling to maternity necessities. She also happens to worship iCarly."

"We'd be happy to meet her," Freddie said.

"Excellent," Principal Franklin said with a smile. "So, swing by after the final bell, and we'll be waiting for you."

"Why are you so willing to help us," I asked with curiosity. 

"When our daughter was born," Principal Franklin explained, "my wife and I were in our Junior year of high school. So we know firsthand the struggles you will have. It's not an easy road, and with Carly not having actual parental help, and Freddie's mother's tendency to over-dramatize everything, we are worried you won't have very much experienced help during this rough time in your life."

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "This really means a lot."

"Anything my wife or myself can do to help," Principal Franklin told us, "don't hesitate to let us know."

Sam cleared her throat. "Um, Sir?" she asked, tentatively.

"Yes, Sam?"

"I'm not usually one to tattle, but since you offered, I reckon I'll save myself from an expulsion and a prison sentence."

"Is somebody already starting up?" Principal Franklin asked, his eyes flaring.

"This Sophomore girl, Sarah Marshall," Sam explained with a sigh. "She's made some pretty serious comments against Carly. I think I scared her enough to stop her from turning the whole school against Carly, but who knows?"

"What exactly did she say?" Principal Franklin asked, his voice slow, his tone icy.

"She said 'Carly is a slutty teenage baby machine, and the whole school will know by lunch.'"

I'd never seen our principal this angry - and that's saying something.

"I will have a very long talk with Miss Marshall and her parents," he said. "Needless to say, by the time lunch rolls around, she will no longer be attending this school."

The bell signaling the start of Homeroom rang. "I'll call Mr. Myandowski," Principal Franklin promised, "and have the three of you excused for your tardiness." He stood up, and so did we. "Don't forget to swing by after school," he reminded us.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Mrs. Briggs, the snotty, hateful Scottish teacher, wandered in. "Did you hear about our newest teen baby maker?" she asked with a laugh. She stopped dead in her tracks, as she saw the four pairs of icy eyes glaring daggers at her.

"No, I haven't," said Principal Franklin coldly. "But I have heard about the gossiping bitch that just lost her job. You have till the end of the school day. Enjoy it while it lasts."

I'd never, until that moment, seen Mrs. Briggs cry. But as her eyes began to fill up, Principal Franklin turned to us with a kind smile. "You're excused from English class today. Enjoy your day."

As we left the office, we couldn't help but smile. I guess today wasn't going to be so terrible after all.