Pucketts Don't Cry
This is a story about how Sam coped with her very unstable and ever-changing life, from the time her father left to the moment she stepped up the altar, told by herself and the people that matter to her.
Sam-centric
Pairings: Sam/Freddie, Carly/Gibby, Melanie/Griffin
Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly and/or the characters stated above.
Chapter 1
Samantha Puckett
Sam's POV
Pucketts don't cry.
That's what I keep telling myself every night since my father left. That was 9 years ago, and until now that chant still rings in my head.
He left for the army. Well, that's what my mother used to tell us way back then. Melanie – my twin sister – and I sort of believed it. But before all that, we were once a normal, happy family.
My father was a chef. He wasn't that well known, but he did own a diner, one that specialized in savoury dishes, further down the street. He always went there from 6:00 in the morning to 8:00 in the evening. But although he's been gone all day, he would always come back smiling, and quite literally, bringing home the bacon.
My mother was a normal housewife. She wanted to try to work, but my dad won't allow it. He said that one parent gone for the day is bad enough. He wanted her to be there for me and my twin sister.
My twin sister, Melanie, was Little Miss Perfect. She always comes home with a star stamp on her hand and an A on some quiz or chiz. She never gets into trouble and she always has clean hair. Everybody thinks she's so sweet and kind. Back then it didn't make me sick...
...because back then I was confident in who I was.
My name is Samantha Puckett, but you better call me Sam! The only person who can call me Samantha is my father. He makes me and Melanie feel like such princesses. That's right, someone considered me a princess, not just some rowdy tomboy. My father saw me for who I really was, a confident, happy little girl who saw the world as her meatball. He doesn't compare me to Melanie either, because although my sister and I are polar opposites, we both have our strong points.
One of my strong points is... well... being strong. And I use it well, too. I have that Puckett confidence. So you can say that we're the brains and brawn twins. But that's not all there is to me. I also do pageants. Yes, I, Samantha Puckett, was once a pageant girl. You better not laugh about it or I'll show you that strong point I was talking about. Anyway, my mother was the one who forced me into it. She said that it was... a creative outlet... for my rather aggressive and compulsive nature. And though I would be caught dead admitting it, I actually love being a pageant girl. Being on stage, showing the world how talented I really am, seeing the looks on those pretty girls' faces when they announce that I beat them at second place, felt absolutely empowering. The smiles on my family's faces when they watch me strut my stuff on stage, cheering me on... it felt marvellous.
Yeah, yeah. You're probably wondering why I'm using big words. Well, let me tell you this: I do know a thing or two about vocabulary. I just don't choose to show it. One reason is because I know they'll compare it to Melanie's universe-wide dictionary of a brain.
But this, being a pageant girl, this is where I rock. This is where Momma wins.
So now you can pretty much see why my dad loves me. To him I'm his perfect little angel, and no matter what Melanie does he'll never compare me to her. He loves us both, don't get me wrong, but he loves us each... as in individually, you dig? He sees us as Samantha, his feisty little devil, and Melanie, his sweet little angel.
Life was good. Ah, who am I kidding? Life was pretty dang great before that faithful day my daddy got taken away from us.
One day a man in a green military suit walked up to our house while we were playing. He asked who the man of the house was. Being the polite and helpful girl that she is, Melanie started to speak, but I cupped her mouth. I whispered "Mom and Dad said don't talk to strangers!" in her ear and she quickly shut her mouth. The man raised a curious eyebrow at us then continued up the porch. We followed suit, a little quieter than usual. Melanie and I used to love doing that, sneaking up on people. It made us feel like ninjas –something we thought we wanted to be way back then. He rapped on the door three times, and my mother came out, all smiles, expecting her daughters to come home with mud on our faces. It wasn't a farfetched idea, on certain days we do go home with mud on our faces, and in our hair, and on our jumpers... you get my drift. Her smile fell when she saw the tall man standing at the other side of the screen door. I instantly disliked the man, and through the corner of my eye I can see Melanie narrowing her eyes.
"Can I help you?" she asked, as polite as she wanted to be. It didn't stop the fear from creeping in her voice, though.
Who was this dude? Why did he have this effect on Mom?
"Yes, I would like to see the man of the house," the man said in a low voice.
Mom shifted her weight to the other hip. "So do I, but you and I are out of luck 'cause he gets home at about 9."
The man nodded briskly. "Very well," he said, and then turned his head slightly in our direction. "May I come in and wait for him?"
"Depends," I finally speak up from behind the tree. Melanie looked at me with a shocked expression, her big blue eyes filled with fear, for me standing up to an adult. Back then she still wasn't used to me doing that. My mother raised her eyebrows at me, a look more of curiosity than disapproval on her face. The man, much to my irritation, looked amused.
He turned to me fully and crossed his arms on his chest. "Depends on what, little missy?"
"Depends on why you want to stay," I said in the meanest voice I could muster at the age of seven. I crossed my arms over my chest, too, silently telling him I was not kidding around.
Mom went out from behind the screen door and Melanie ran to her side, hugging her left leg. She didn't speak up, though, didn't reprimand me. It'd be kind of weird if she did, to be honest. She's too cool for that. Besides, she looked interested in where this conversation was going.
The man went down on his knees, so we're eye to eye. He puts his hand on my head in a patronizing way. Man I hate it when adults treat me like a kid who can't handle the big world. Well I know I am but that doesn't stop it from being annoying. I mean, how many times did you want to kick an adult just because they looked at you like you were too young to hear the truth and that you wouldn't understand anyway? It makes my blood boil. I restrained myself from grabbing his hand and pulling that karate move my dad taught me last night after dinner.
"Well, you see, little girl, our country needs your dad."
I squinted my eyes. "What's a meat-cooking father got to do with the needs of the country?" I asked, using those big words. If he still didn't get that I was trying to talk to him seriously, I would kick his shin.
He seemed taken aback, and just when I was about to smirk he burst out laughing. Laughing! My smirk turned into a sneer and I yelled "That's it!"
As I was about to charge, a hand reached my shoulder. My mother and sister looked relieved at seeing me 'saved by the bell'. Well, Mom looked kind of disappointed at not seeing this man's butt kicked, but she had to look mature.
"What's going on here, Sammy?" my father's warm voice asked. I turned to him and grinned a second at seeing his face. I dropped it once I remembered what he stopped me from doing.
The man behind me stood straight and bowed his head curtly before stretching his hand out, a sealed envelope with a serious looking stamp on it. I glared at it, and at the man, too. Out of focus I see my mother gasp, a hand flying to her lips. My sister looked as curious and dumbfounded as I.
My father furrowed his brow before taking the envelope. "What's this?"
"A calling, Sir," the man said, "Our country needs you."
Hey guys! This is my first iCarly fanfiction, and it is about Sam Puckett. Now I know she, Melanie and Pam sound a bit out of character here. That's because they sort of are. I'm trying to show you the change of their characters as time progressed, and I promise when this story reaches chapter 4 or 5, it'll be the Sam, Melanie and Pam we all know and love.
This idea's been eating at me for a while now, and when I finally couldn't start doing my plates I gave up and wrote this. I hope you like it!
Please review and tell me if I should continue!
~kalyn19