hello lovelies! sorry it took me so damn long to post this! for a while I had really dreadful internet access and then I moved back home for the summer, so I was hardly online... but here's the prologue! hopefully the story will be posted fairly regularly. sorry to say, but I'm notorious for posting rather slowly. but, I'm feeling pretty good about this story. the plot could take a couple different turns-many of which I'm still in debate about, but the basic idea of the plot is sketched out.

anyway, I had such a lovely and heartfelt response from you all with 'scream at the sky' that I really hope that this meets your expectations. you've all been wonderful, my repeat readers, and I do hope with all my heart that you enjoy this story.

here's the prologue!

blanket disclaimer for ENTIRE story: the author owns nothing that the reader recognizes

(lyrics lovingly borrowed from The Gambler by fun. for the story title and Mykonos by Fleet Foxes for the chapter title)

Love at Second Sight

by fandrastic

Prologue

"A miserable life's not all that bad... sometimes my mother laughs."

Despite the fact that her guidance counselor might say otherwise, Sam Puckett was good at a lot of things.

For one, she could scare even the bulkiest linebacker at Ridgeway into submission by a mere growl and a flash of her teeth. Daniel Hamilton (number 46) learned that the hard way, and spent the rest of the football season in an air cast. Sam could also pick any lock with only the items she kept stored in her pockets. For stronger ones, i.e. deadbolts and chains, she often relied on the metal-cutter she kept at all times in her backpack. Probably most apparently, Sam seemed to have a hollow leg when it came to food, and was able to pack away more trans-fat than seemed humanly fair. This feat made her the envy of the female population at her school, who starved themselves with lettuce and mineral water while Sam lugged around a Ziploc bag stuffed with ribs.

But if there was one thing that Sam excelled at, it was keeping her home life a secret.

During the course of their friendship, Carly had been over to Sam's house numerous times, and each visit stuck out vividly in the other girl's memory. When Sam and Carly were younger, the two girls spent most of their time in Sam's room; playing music and talking and having a generally good time. Sam's mom was around—Spencer wasn't going to let Carly out of his sight unless there was another adult present—but Carly rarely saw her. Sure, there were a few select times that Cheyenne would emerge from her bedroom, looking a drawn and tired as she clutched a pack of Virginia Slims, but she would regale the two girls with stories about growing up in Wichita and winning the Miss Teen Wichita pageant when she was barely 18. Carly was enthralled with these stories, and thought that Sam was so lucky to have a mom that was once a beauty queen. The entire thing sounded very glamorous to the young girl.

Sam, who had been forced into similar pageants as a child (she'd rather die than admit that to Carly), was less enthusiastic about her mother's stories, but it was nice to see Carly so happy. She supposed that since Carly's mom passed away, that her friend missed having an adult female presence around. And for whatever reason, seeing Carly happy made Sam happy, so she listened to her mother go on and on about her glory days.

Sam's dad, Scott Puckett, left when she was in third grade. At the time, her twin sister Melanie was still living with them. Cheyenne and Scott had been fighting for years, and his leaving was the culmination of all the bitter battles between them. He never wanted children, let alone twin girls, and as soon as Cheyenne got a job at a nearby beauty salon, he hopped onto his Harley and was gone, leaving nothing behind but divorce papers and a six-pack in the refrigerator. Sam, who had always idolized her father, found herself losing interest in everything once her dad left—especially school. The once bright and curious girl gave way to one more jaded and disinterested. The faculty at the local elementary school felt it would be best if Sam stayed back a year and repeated third grade. On the other hand, Melanie threw herself into her schoolwork, surpassing all grade level expectations. Practically overnight, she became the family genius.

Once the child support checks started coming in, Cheyenne put Melanie into a private school on the other side of the country. Melanie continued to flourish in Massachusetts, and Sam resented her for it. Melanie was able to leave when Sam couldn't, and the only thing tangible from their father, the child support checks, was being spent to pay for her twin's room and board. The very thought of her sister soon became an irritation to Sam, and although she did love her sister, there was a bitterness that she felt would probably always be there. Cheyenne distracted herself from the divorce by spending more and more time at work, which often left Sam home alone for hours at a time. It was during these long hours that Sam was babysat by their small color television, and took up watching wrestling shows, where she learned exactly how to inflict physical pain on others.

During the summer before Sam and Carly started middle school, Cheyenne lost her job as a beautician at the salon a few miles away from their apartment. Depressed, she didn't bother looking for more work. Then, she started bringing home more and more 'boyfriends', and from that point on, the term itself became synonymous in Sam's mind with 'deadbeat loser who steals all your cash and makes you unhappier than you already are'.

Cheyenne had a pregnancy scare with Paul right before Christmas, and Sam stopped having Carly over for sleepovers. When Alex beat the crap out of Cheyenne in a drunken rage, Sam stopped inviting Carly over in general. And when Damon got her mother hooked on cocaine, Sam stopped calling Carly on the house phone, and instead saved up her money for her own cell phone.

Carly wasn't stupid, she knew something was up with Sam, but whenever she approached her friend about it, Sam had one excuse after another.

"My mom? Yeah, she made me sit there as she modeled bathing suits. Seriously Carls, my retinas are trashed! You definitely don't want to come over today. As your best friend, I am protecting you from a sight you should never have to witness. You'll thank me later."

"Oh, you want to stay over on Saturday? Because I was thinking we'd have a movie night, and nothing says movie night like the flat screen at Maison de Shay! Plus… this way we can sneak out onto Fredwardo's fire escape late at night and make owl noises. You know how he feels about beaked animals."

"Why would we celebrate my birthday at my house? Spencer said he'd make me a funfetti cake. You heard me. Funfetti, Carly. Yeah, I know he caught the entire cake on fire last year, but I'm all about forgiveness. I'm like a saint. Plus, it's my birthday—dude, I'm the birthday saint. And the birthday saint wants cake at your place. No arguments. Also, I want steak."

Distracted by Sam's speeches, Carly would laugh and forget to continue questioning her friend. As time went by, the antics of Sam's 'eccentric' mother became a running joke amongst their close friends, but no one besides Sam really knew what went on at home. So while Sam wasn't the most academically motivated person, she definitely knew how to protect herself.

Throughout her time at Ridgeway, covering for her mother's shortcomings was fairly easy. When Cheyenne wasn't on some crazy coke-bender and practically whoring herself out at some seedy bar, she was actually attentive… in a half-depressed half-guilty way, perhaps, but attentive nonetheless. She always made sure Sam had clean clothes (whether it was buying her new ones with her latest boyfriend's money or giving Sam a roll of quarters for the nearest Laundromat) and she made sure that Sam was healthy—relatively. Things like annual doctor's check-ups and dentist appointments were unheard of, but Cheyenne kept the number for poison control by the phone and had the address for the walk-in clinic memorized.

And all of this, Sam kept secret from her friends. She had never been one to allow pity. She kept this all to herself, and it worked as a distraction from it all as well.

Sam was also a professional when it came to convincing people that she was incapable; that she didn't work or care or do anything to help anyone other than herself.

The summer before senior year, Sam got a call while she was at Carly's house. When Sam answered her cell phone, she was surprised to hear the voice of her landlord. Apparently, he couldn't get a hold of her mother for the month's rent, banged on their front door until the cheap lock broke, only to find Cheyenne passed out on the floor with a bottle of pills next to her. He called 911, and then Sam as an afterthought.

At the time, Sam and Carly were helping Spencer sort through materials for his latest sculpture. When she answered her phone, she was aware that the keen eyes of the Shay siblings were on her, and she fought to keep her face impassive and her questions vague. Her landlord hung up as soon as the information was passed on, and Sam quickly pocketed her phone. When she quickly headed towards the front door of the apartment, Carly gave a confused call. Sam schooled her features and simply replied with a wave and said it was past her curfew, although it was only two o'clock in the afternoon on a Saturday. Carly seemed a bit in a huff at her friend's abrupt exit, but Spencer—who had noticed the brief flash of panic on Sam's face—had a feeling that something else was up.

Sam didn't see Carly again for another three days, and when she did again, she was all smiles and snarky replies. Carly seemed relieved to have her friend back, but still grilled her about her hasty exited a few days before. Always one step ahead, Sam sold her a story about her great uncle flying in to stay with the family for the summer, which meant less time hanging out with Carly and Freddie during their vacation and more time watching the golf channel with Uncle Morris. Though disappointed, Carly bought the story and wasted no time relaying the information to Freddie in a mad dash across the hall. Spencer looked up from his spot in the by the kitchen island and gave her a pointed look, silently asking her if she was telling the truth. Sam only shrugged and collapsed in a boneless pile on the sofa, occupying herself with her cell phone until Carly returned.

In reality, there was no Uncle Morris. Instead, Cheyenne—she was hardly 'Mom' at this point—had checked into a rehab facility in Olympia. To help cover the costs, Sam got a job for the summer. While she was 18—staying back a year in elementary school gave her a year up on her other friends—not many places were willing to hire someone so young for fulltime. So, Sam went out, got a fake ID and a push-up bra and got a job waiting tables at C.C's, some sports bar downtown. While Carly and Freddie thought she was spending the majority of her summer cooped up with obscure relatives, Sam was actually holding a job to pay for her mother's rehabilitation fees. Neither Carly nor Freddie suspected a thing, but one evening in early August, her cover was blown.

Of all the people she expected to see at work, Spencer Shay was not one of them. He didn't really come off as the whole 'baseball-watching beer-drinker' like the majority of the patrons she dealt with. Needless to say, Sam was stunned when she saw him being half-dragged in by a giggling woman wearing a Mariners jersey. That night there was a home game at Safeco Field and C.C.'s was packed; all eyes on the many television screens broadcasting the game. From his seat next to that laughing red haired woman, Spencer glanced up at one of the screens, and then scanned the expanse of the bar before his gaze settled on Sam.

Before she could even gauge his reaction, Sam turned back to the bar and told one of her co-workers she was taking her break, before making a beeline for the front exit. The noise level in the bar prevented her from hearing Spencer stumble over barstools and half-drunk patrons in his race to catch up with her, but even without hearing him, Sam knew he was following her.

There was a light drizzle of rain outside, not uncommon for Seattle, but Sam kept dry underneath the awning of the bar as she leaned back against the damp brick façade. The soft scuffing of shoes on pavement alerted her that Spencer had found her.

"Sam…"

It was a statement more than anything else, as if he was waiting for her to simply spill her guts out to him. Instead she shrugged.

"Spencer," she replied, dipping her chin in acknowledgement in his direction.

She debated on calling him 'LaTisha McPeanuts', but the stiflingly serious air between them tamped down on any desire to make quips. There was a strange intensity in his gaze that she decided to avoid all together, instead focusing her eyes on the fraying hem of her too-short work skirt.

"Carly said she's hardly seen you this summer; that you've been spending your vacation at home with your uncle. You've barely been by the loft."

His words hung awkwardly in the air. Normally, he would've made some comment about how she was normally at his loft more often than he was, but now was not the time.

"Well," Sam crossed her arms over her chest, "idle Pucketts are dangerous. My Uncle Morris likes to be entertained. He doesn't like being left by himself. It was my mother's idea to ruin my summer."

His brow furrowed.

"I stopped by your place earlier this afternoon. Carly wanted me to drop off some ideas for your web show this weekend, but nobody was there."

Sam felt her face grow pale. Usually, Spencer was the easiest person for her to convince, he was so trusting by nature, but standing here, outside of a sports bar in a stupid skimpy work uniform, telling lies about a made-up great uncle didn't seem to be working on him.

"No? Maybe my mom took him—"

"I went to leave the stuff in the mailbox, it was full. It didn't look like anyone had checked it for days, maybe a week." Spencer continued as if Sam hadn't even spoken.

He was right; she hadn't been getting the mail. It was a passive aggressive way for Sam to pretend that the whole 'rehab' situation with her mother wasn't happening—if she didn't bring in the mail, she didn't bring in the bills.

Her face fell.

"And now I find you at some sports bar, serving drinks? Sam, what's going on?"

His voice was low, concerned. It wasn't often that Spencer was this grave, and that itself caused alarm to worry away at her. She spared a glance in his direction and felt her resolve waver. Wetting her lips and searching for words, she sighed.

"I'm fine, nothing's wrong."

"You're not fine, because the Sam I know doesn't hold down secret jobs in bars. Something's going on, Sam; you've got to tell me. Are you in trouble?"

"No."

"Sam—"

"No, Spencer," her voice pleaded, "I'm not… I, damn it, just promise me you won't tell Carly. I don't want… I don't want to worry her. She just can't know about this. You can't tell her."

Her eyes were beginning to water and she hated herself for it. She wanted to scream, but her throat felt too tight, almost too tight to let her breathe. She could count on one hand the number of times she allowed someone other than Carly to see her cry, and the more her tears wavered on the edge of her lashes, the more she wanted to run away.

With a gentle nod, he agreed, bringing her attention back to the concern in his expressive features.

"Tell me, Sam."

Eyes fluttering shut briefly, she exhaled once more.

"My… okay, this sounds a lot worse than it is, all right? My mom sort of, well, overdosed about three weeks ago," she cringed as she watched his eyes widen considerably, "After they released her from the hospital, she checked into rehab. We, uh… we didn't have the money on hand to pay for it, so I got a job to help cover the fees. I mean, my mom gets unemployment checks, but it's not enough for her sixty day stay. It's not a big deal though—the working part. That's why I didn't tell Carly or Freddie. They don't need to worry about it. I tried to find a job away from Bushwell; I didn't want anyone to find out about it. Mel knows about it too, she's got a job out in Boston. She sends a check every week. We're fine. It's nothing that anyone else needs to worry about."

The last part of her statement was forceful; Sam Puckett didn't take lightly to sympathy, even if it was from people she trusted. But, once more she let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to keep her tears at bay.

Spencer continued to stare at her, as if he simply couldn't fathom how someone as vibrant and brash as Sam could take on so much on her own. Her mother was in rehab? Sixty day residential rehab was serious business—only longtime drug users checked in that long. How long had Sam been living with a strung-out mother? How could she not have ever said anything, ever asked for help?

But all the pieces began to fall into place.

"Hey Carly, can I shower here? There's something wrong with the pipes at home and since my mom's dated all of the plumbers in a ten mile radius, we're out of luck for a free fix until her next paycheck."

He remembered Carly laughing amusedly at that—and how a small smile had tugged at his own lips.

"So I've decided that I'm spending the night. I'd be over here first thing in the morning anyway; I might as well crash on the couch, right?"

Carly had merely smiled and gushed over sleepover-y things that the two of them could do during Sam's stay. Sam had been staying over so often lately that her 'decision' to stay hadn't even fazed him at the time.

"No, I'm not going on that fieldtrip for Civics. Why the hell would I want to spend the day at the state capital building? Oh? So, big deal, it's an overnight trip. Like I need to be sleeping anywhere near you and your nerd friends, Freducation. I don't want to exposed to all that nerd energy."

Freddie had frowned at the insult while Carly had gone on and on about the $150 trip fees. Sam instead talked about all the fun she'd have skipping class those two days.

How could he not have seen the signs?

"I'm starving; don't you people have any food in this place? I had to walk all the way here—did you know that the bus doesn't go past my house anymore? What do they expect me to do? Rollerblade my ass down here? Oh, no offense, Spencer…"

Sam had always managed to cover up her misfortunes with sarcasm, but now… standing with her outside of some sports bar, with her in a uniform that he certainly wasn't used to seeing on her frame, Spencer was finally reading between the lines.

Her mother was a serial dater, and a lot of the time, Sam was hesitant to stay home. He imagined the type of guys her mother would invite over—the very thought made his jaw clench. No teenage girl should have to be afraid of her mother's boyfriends. Oftentimes, Sam would force sleepovers on Carly just so she wouldn't have to spend the night under the same roof as some of those guys. She didn't go on class trips because she couldn't afford them, not with her mother spending her unemployment checks on drugs and God knows what else. And why else would Sam eat constantly at their house, and yet be as skinny as she was? Spencer doubted she ate at home at all.

She was still standing in front of him, head lowered. Her hands were at her sides and balled into fists as she tried to keep her emotions in check. She knew he was processing what he had just heard from her, and to finally have someone else know about her home life… it made her nauseous.

"Sam…" He murmured, debating on pulling her into a hug.

This was one of his kiddos. She had been crying for help for so long, but no one had been able to understand. He quelled the urge to comfort her with an embrace, and settled on searching her face for any hint to what she was honestly feeling.

At the sound of his voice, Sam seemed to regain some semblance of awareness, and she squared her shoulders. Lifting her head, she affixed a determined look on her surprisingly gentle features. It always amazed Spencer as to how someone as feminine looking as Sam was, could harbor such strength; both physical, and now emotional.

"It's all right, Spencer."

Her voice was steady—she was trying to convince the both of them that she was all right. But he wasn't buying it. Guilt mixed with frustration and he ran a hand through his hair angrily.

"No, it's not all right! You're working in a bar to pay for your mother's rehab! Sam, you're still in high school! Carly and Freddie don't have any idea what's going on with you—"

"—and we're going to keep it that way." Her tone left no room for argument, "Promise me, Spencer. They can't know about this. Carly worries too much over everything, she doesn't need to worry about this. She and Freddie would only be upset if they knew what was going on. I'm protecting them."

It never occurred to him that Sam had been making up these lies for Carly and Freddie's sakes. He knew his younger sister worried over every little thing, and that Freddie's mother had made him just as neurotic as she was. By making light of the darkness that was truly her personal life, Sam was really protecting her two best friends from worrying themselves to death.

"You really do love them, don't you?" He breathed, his brow knit. This was a lot to take in all at once.

She gave a small smile.

"You guys are the only good things I have going for me. I can't mess that up."

"But Sam," Spencer shook his head, "you could've come to me for help, you know that. You could've stayed with us and—"

"Spence," she chuckled softly, kicking at the ground with the toe of her converse, "I couldn't do that. This is my burden—mine and Melanie's. And we're handling it. I'm handling it, Spence. I'm fine."

He let her words sink in and he gave her a long look. It was apparent that he was not pleased with the situation, but knew that Sam was strong-willed and wouldn't accept assistance—if there was any that he could provide

"Just… promise that you'll call. If you're in trouble, promise that you'll call."

With a nod, she agreed.

"I've got to get back to work. Plus, I bet your date is looking for you." She spoke, her tone heavy with finality.

Arms folded protectively across her chest, she spared him one last glance before heading back inside. Spencer watched her leave, well aware that she was no longer the kiddo he thought she was. Sam had given up her childhood a long time ago, though she hid it well. The person he had just spoken to wasn't a kid, she was a woman… and one who had seen and heard far too much for one so young.

It was with a reluctant sigh that Spencer returned inside the sports bar. He met his date's confused gaze with a frown, which she soon returned. A muttered apology was all he offered her before he moved to the exit once more. Before he left, he felt Sam's eyes on him and he turned to gauge her emotions. A look passed between them. Head spinning and heart heavy, he walked out into the cool night air once again and headed back to the loft.

Needless to say, that summer before senior year was strange for everyone. Not only was Sam busy with her secret job—or as Carly and Freddie thought, spending time with her uncle—but Spencer was acting weirder than usual. He spent more time than he normally did down at the scrap yard searching for materials for sculptures, and was always up late. He hardly went to bed before three in the morning. Carly could sense that something was wrong with her brother, but every time she'd approach him about his behavior, he'd clam up. Normally she could get him to admit most anything—lying was not one of his strong points, but the fact that he was remaining so tight-lipped about whatever was affecting him meant that it was most likely serious. Still, she chalked it up to something artist-y and let him be, but she was, nevertheless, unsettled.

Things got better a week or two before classes started up. Sam began showing up at the loft again, looking thinner and a bit drained, but she smiled at Carly and tripped Freddie, so things seemed almost back to normal. Spencer was still acting out of the ordinary, keeping silent observation on the three of them as they joked and laughed together in the kitchen. While Carly didn't think that Sam's summer vanishing act and Spencer's subdued activities were related, she watched the two of them just to make sure they were okay. Her brother seemed to shake out of his funk when Sam burst into the loft the weekend before school started, throwing him a boisterous greeting as she continued towards the refrigerator on her quest for ribs. Perhaps everyone at Bushwell missed Sam's (oftentimes violent) spontaneity. Regardless, as soon as senior year started, Spencer was back to his old self, much to Carly's relief.

By the time classes were in full swing, the summer had already been forgotten. Still, as much as things had returned to normal, there was a shift in the normalcy of their environment. While Carly, Freddie and Sam were still as thick as thieves, the discussions between them all had turned from what subjects to cover on their next show (gluing Lewbert to his desk or his chair?) to majors and minors (poli-sci or communications?) and it was clear, at least to Spencer, that Sam was feeling the pressure. In all actuality, Sam wasn't applying to any schools, but neither of her best friends knew that. She knew she didn't have the grades to get in anywhere worthwhile, and even if she did, there wasn't enough financial aid in the world to help her pay for it. Besides, with her mother fresh from rehab, Sam was spending her extra free time at home, making sure that Cheyenne wasn't slipping back into her comfortable old habits. It was just easier to tell Carly and Freddie that she was just going to apply to one of the local community colleges, than explain to them why she couldn't.

As for what had transpired between Sam and Spencer outside of that bar; it hadn't been mentioned since. She had never taken him up on his offer and called him for help, but there was now an unspoken agreement between the two of them. Sam knew that she could trust Spencer to keep her secrets, just as he trusted her to stay safe. Every once in a while when she was over at the loft, she'd catch him giving her a serious look, as if asking her with his eyes if she was actually okay, to which she'd dutifully respond with a nod. Spencer wasn't her guardian, or her older brother, but he was a friend and was looking out for her.

Other than college acceptances looming on the horizon, things were practically back to normal. Sam hung around the loft again like she owned the place, Spencer was back to his jovial, eccentric self, and although Carly and Freddie were stressed out with the idea of their futures before them, they were just as they always were. Once again, iCarly flourished, practically setting record breaking video hits each time they had a live webcast. By popular demand, both Gibby and Spencer were just about regulars on the show, and iCarly was getting more and more recognition. It was due to his computer expertise on the web show that Freddie was offered a full scholarship to USC—his mother cried at the idea of him going to college so far away, but was also terribly proud of her only child. Carly, although not given a full ride, was also vetted by several schools in California, who were aiming to have one of the internet's most popular faces attend their school. She finally settled on UC Berkeley, which pleased all parties involved. Mrs. Benson was ecstatic that Carly would be a mere hour away from her beloved son—she was still crossing her fingers that the two of them would finally 'go steady', as she put it.

All in all, things were looking up. Freddie actually managed to convince Carly to go to prom with him (Sam had never seen the nub so ecstatic), Spencer was dating some girl who worked at a nearby bookstore, and Sam's own mother was currently involved with some tattoo artist named Ace. Sam didn't care who her mother dated, as long as she didn't fall back into her old, destructive habits. Sam herself had a few casual boyfriends during her senior year, before eventually reuniting with Pete for prom. The two of them ended up breaking things off a little before graduation—they liked each other well enough, but Pete was headed to Brown in the fall and they were both in agreement that there wasn't any use in attempting a long-distance relationship.

As graduation steadily drew nearer, Sam noticed that her mother was spending less time at home, and more time over at her new boyfriend's house. With her mother's horrendous track record, she immediately thought the worse; that Cheyenne was back to her old ways. Still, every time her mother returned home, she was clean and sober, and it honestly didn't seem like she was back to using. It was strange, her mother seemed genuinely happy with her new boyfriend, but she was so secretive about the whole thing that Sam never really knew what was going on.

A few nights before the graduation ceremony, Sam returned home after an iCarly rehearsal at Bushwell, only to find a note left on the kitchen table and $600 stuck to the refrigerator. Apparently, Cheyenne and Ace were eloping to Las Vegas, where they were also planning on settling down. Sam skimmed the lines of the note where her mother rambled on and on about how Ace had a cousin in Henderson with a tattoo parlor of his own, and instead she set her gaze on the more crucial aspects of the message. According to her mother, their apartment lease was up in a month, and Sam could either re-lease it herself, or take the $600 to find a place of her own.

She wasn't sad—she was furious. After all the money that she had invested in her mother's rehab, this was how she was repaid? A note and a few hundreds? She crumpled up the note and called her twin. Melanie had recently finished her first year at Boston University—Sam had stayed back in third grade and was thus a year behind her—and was staying in Boston for the summer. She informed her sister as to what was going on with their mother, Sam pausing over the line as Melanie cried, and explained to her that as soon as she graduated in a few days, Sam was leaving Seattle for a while. She had been taking care of her mother for so long that she had wasted her teenage years on that woman, and now she was going to make up for lost time by doing whatever the hell she wanted. Melanie made her promise that she wouldn't get herself arrested, and that she would call and check in at least four times a week. Sam managed to lower the number of calls to twice a week, and the two of them agreed on it. That night, Sam went to bed in an empty apartment with $600 burning a hole in her wallet.

Graduation was a blur. Before the ceremony started, Carly kept trying in vain to hold back tears, as not to ruin her makeup, while Freddie (Valedictorian Fredward Benson) kept muttering the words of his speech over and over to himself as not to forget it. Sam slung her arms casually over both of their shoulders, smiling up at Spencer, who was a little misty-eyed himself, as he snapped a picture of the three of them. Mrs. Benson was taking pictures as well, but her wailing sobs made holding the camera quite the challenge.

After the ceremony was over, they posed for more pictures, the three of them complaining how their cheeks hurt from so much smiling. Everyone was in good spirits, even Mrs. Benson, until Spencer noticed that Cheyenne was nowhere in sight. As they all were walking towards the parking lot, Carly and Freddie screaming a rousing version of 'Pomp and Circumstance', Spencer pulled Sam aside.

"Where's your mother?" He asked softly, searching her face.

She replied with an offhanded shrug.

"Who the hell knows?"

With that, she jogged up ahead to meet Carly and Freddie, singing just as loud as the two brunettes combined.

Stunned, it took Spencer a minute to regain his bearings. An unsettling mixture of anger and sadness flooded his senses. He was angry that Sam hadn't bothered to tell him what was going on with her mother—she promised that she'd call if she was in trouble, and yet he felt so bad for her, that her mother didn't even have the decency to attend her daughter's graduation. Still, tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration. He wouldn't spoil the evening and upset Sam by asking her about it again, she certainly deserved a break. He'd talk to her about it in the morning.

The only problem with that was that when morning came, Sam was gone.

and there's the prologue! the beginning of the story will be a little dark, sorry if that is off-putting to any of you. trust me though, it will definitely lighten up. ALSO-there may end up being some M-rated stuff, so if it comes to that, I'll definitely let you all know. the story will most likely keep its T-rating, and the links for the M-rated stuff will be posted on my livejournal, so you can always look there-of course, if the story turns that way.

thanks for reading and let me know what you think of the story so far!

x

fandrastic