Junior year at McCurry High School; Three friends, Carly, Sam and Freddie had World Literature together last hour. It was halfway through the first trimester. Sam leaned her head on the textbook while Carly and Freddie listened to the teacher. Their grades were fine, unlike Sam's. She had a D minus and it was getting worse.

"Now, as our next book in the class..." Ms. Moorcove began. "Shakespeare."

The whole class moaned with disinterest.

"Ugh..." Sam muttered in annoyance.

"Romeo and Juliet was one of the best tales he's ever written, and in all time as well. It's a love story about star-crossed romance. Juliet and Romeo are in love, but their families are pure enemies."

Sam ripped out a sheet of lined paper and clicked her pen open.

What the hell? Who cares about THIS crap?

She threw it to Carly who sat in front of her. Carly opened it and wrote down her respond.

Have you even read them before? I want to hear this!

Eww wtf?

"Throughout the whole unit, we will read the book together as a class. It is in script format so I'm giving each of you parts." She looked at her class and counted the number of boys compared to the girls. The class was made of mostly boys, just like the play. "Raise your hand and you won't get the part you want. I will tell you your part when you return on Monday."

The intercom went on. It made various announcements about track tryouts. While they were discussing the score of the last football game, Sam wrote on the paper again.

You coming to track tryouts?

Yeah. C u there.

The bell went off and everybody was too determined to leave.

"Sam." The teacher called. Sam rolled her eyes and stared at Ms. Moorcove darkly.

"What?" she growled.

"I am not impressed with your effort in this class."

Sam just stood beside the desk and listened to the old lady yapping her mouth off. Her words were useless to Sam. She discussed how disgusted she was with Sam's paper on Odysseus and on her Odyssey test.

"You really need to boost up that grade, meaning pay attention in class and do the homework."

"I seriously don't care about my grade." Said Sam.

"Well you should. Unless you'd like to repeat all your classes. Either you start working hard or flunk."

"Well it's not my fault that play is so boring. I mean, they die at the end! What the hell was Shakespeare thinking!?"

"Did you know it's this year's school play?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"If you audition for the play and make it, I'll give you extra credit points."

Sam began laughing in the poor old ladies wrinkled face. Her eyes were watering as well.

"You act though right?"

"Huh?"

"You act on that little comedy show you and your friend do."

"Yeah, but that's a web show. Not a play."

"Well maybe you can give this play a shot and see what happens."

The old lady opened her drawer and pulled out a purple sheet and a pink sheet.

"Here's information about the play and the audition form. Oh and there's this..."

She handed Sam a six page yellow booklet.

"Here's what you have to read from."

Sam looked at the long dialogue with disgust.

"I have to memorize all of this?"

"It would impress the director if you did."

Sam crumpled the papers in her pocket and walked off.

Dinner at the Puckett's family table was Sams most hated part of the day. She'd sit between her parents who always asked her the most annoying questions.

"So how was school?" her mom said.

"Boring."

"Sam, you always say that." Her step-father complained. "Can you at least tell us why it was boring?"

"No." said Sam. "I'm tired of saying the same thing every day you two."

"What was that young lady?"

"Don't call me that." She took a bite out of her mom's hot potato's hoping she'd calm down. She was never fond of her step-dad. Hell, her parents should have been divorced.

"I will call you what I want!" Mr. Puckett snapped. "I received an e-mail from your English teacher. Says your flunking."

"You sound surprised." Said Sam. "Why so shocked?" she grinned at him.

"I'm sick of you getting these grades!" he yelled again.

"She told us about the school play." Said Mrs. Puckett.

"I'm not going to auditions." Said Sam. "I'm going to track tryouts."

"Track can wait next trimester."

"There is no track in second trimester. It's called winter, hello?"

"Ms. Moorcove told us that the play is worth extra credit." Said her mother in attempt to settle her husbands rage.

"Mom, I don't want to try out!" Sam cried. "So quite nagging me!"

"What about the silly web-show you do?" he father asked. "iCassie."

"It's iCarly."

"You act on it all the time."

"So not true." Sam whined.

"Then how do you perform on it so well?"

Sam glared at him as if it was the stupidest question she ever heard.

"What are you talking about Bill?"

"You don't call me Bill, Samantha, you call me dad! Call me Mr. Puckett if you have to, but I won't settle for Bill!"

"And I want settle for Samantha!" Sam pulled out of the chair without taking her plate.

"You're grounded." Said Bill firmly. "Until the play is over."

"I'm not auditioning!"

"Yes you are, now get your ass upstairs and memorize those lines!"

Sam gave out a dramatic scream as she stomped up the stairs. "I can't believe your making me do this bullshit!"

A massive door slam followed. It shook the house for a second before their child's rage built up like flames over oil.

"Shes a little drama queen. Just like you." Bill said calmly as he took a bite out of asparagus.

"Did you have to be so harsh on her?"

"I'm her dad."

"Well she doesn't see it that way. I'm going out for a bit. Make sure Sam's actually working."

"Oh hell you bet I'll be watching her." His wife smiled and headed out the door.

Sam paced around her bedroom, stepping on random items that were thrown on the floor in the past. Her father told her to clean it up a day ago but she hadn't laid a finger on a single shirt. She didn't even get the script out of her pocket. Just then he came in without knocking.

"Would it kill you to knock?" Sam snapped.

"I have a better question." Said Bill. "Would it kill you to clean up this pigsty?"

"I would but I decide against it."

"I told you to clean this crap hole yesterday!"

"You're not my dad!" Sam reminded him.

"I married your mother, meaning I'm in charge!"

"Your not my dad!" Sam screamed again. Her father was the one to blame for Sam's sloppy behavior. As a teen, he tee-peed homes, picked on children and ate meat all the time. He was a tough big-guy with tattoos and piercings who played in a band. Too bad for Sam, who felt like he was the best dad in the world, lost him in an accident when a drunk driver crashed his truck into the Puckett's convertible. Bill was nothing like him. He wore sweater vests and played golf. He would try his hardest to influence Sam to be a proper young lady. She never caved in to him as she would not now.

Bill's anger problem boiled up. He slapped Sam on the cheek like a cat and gave her that mean look.

"You will do what I say!" he said once again. "Clean this room and memorize those lines!"

He slammed the door harder than Sam could. Her anger built up like bricks.

I'm not 100 percent proud of it. This is my first iCarly fan-fic so I don't know if I did too well. And also I need ideas. I set up a roleplay for this on the forum "FIRST EVER ICARLY BOARD" Please review! It encourages me to keep trying!