Chapter 1

Sam's POV

Sometimes I wish I had the perfect life that Freddie and Carly have. Sometimes I wish that I could live with Carly instead of heading home every night. Or what used to be a home. A home is a place that you can feel loved, a place where you feel like you belong. I haven't felt that since Melanie left. Since Dad left. Since Mom started coming home drunk. Since Mom started abusing me. I haven't felt like 'that place' was home for ten years.

"Samantha!" I jumped at the sound of my mothers voice, cutting through my thoughts. My bedroom door slammed open, and the looming face of my mother appeared in my line of vision. Her blond hair was matted, the greasy effects of not showering if or weeks. She was barely wearing any clothes; just a skimpy tank top, and very short shorts, that no one over the age of eighteen could pull off. My mother glared down at me, and I instinctively curled into a protective ball.

"Get up off your lousy butt, and go get me a beer!" She screamed.

"We're out of beer," I said to her, fearing her response.

"Well why not? Have you been drinking it all?" I frantically shook my head no.

"No I haven't, please, just let me go buy you some more!" I pleaded.

"Go quickly. I'm thirsty for some Bud Light." She said, as she stomped out of my room. I sighed, and thanked God.

Slowly I walked to my closet and took out my Pam Puckett costume. Since I'm under twenty one years, it's illegal for me to buy achohal. So when my mom tells me to get some I dress up as her and take her license. I know it's wrong for me to do, but it is also wrong for a woman to hit her child. And that's exactly what my mother would do if I didn't get the woman her beer.

I finished putting on the wig, and looked at myself in the mirror. Slightly cringing at my apperance, I walked out of the room and went to my mom's purse. Sliding out the ID, I looked around for my mom. Knowing she was in her bedroom, but still being aware to see if she came out.

I shut the door quietly behind me, and took a moment to get into charecter. Sometimes someone would see me, and engage a conversation. If I acted incorrectly, people would get suspicious. After I felt enought like Pam Puckett, I headed off to the liqour store.

The smell of achohal filled my nose, and I wrinkled it slightly. I immedialtly ventured to the beer section. There were about forty different selections of the vile liquid, but my mothers favorite was Bud Light. I skillfully picked up two cases of it, and walked in the direction of the cashier. I set the cases on the counter and put my mom's ID and twenty dollors next to the boxes.

"Will this be all?" The cashier said in a dull, monotone voice. I took in a breath, and thought of a Pam response.a

"Well if there was more, don't you think it would be on the counter?" I said in a perfect annoyed tone, that was a replica of my mother's voice.

"Okay Ma'am, I'm sorry. You don't need to get smart with me."

"Well clearly I do, since you asked such a stupid question!" I said, feeling more and more guilty with every word said.

"Here is your change of 2.50. Enjoy your day." I was surprised, most of the people I, or rather my mom, went off on got angry. Eh, well, it doesn't matter, my mom is probably really impatient right now. Taking the cases off the counter, I left without another word. Failing to notice on the walk home a fifteen year old boy, with brown hair, brown eyes, and the liberty to be able to call me one of his best friends. Freddie Benson. Probably the only person in the world that can look through my disguise, no matter how good.

Oh crap.