A/N: So originally this was going to be a one-shot, but then I got so into it and had so many great ideas that now it's an actual story. It's slow at the beginning but gets better. I made up the financial stuff, I don't know anything about taxes or custody of bank accounts or anything, just a heads up. Hope you like it :)

Snow

Sam's POV

I hate snow. Thank goodness it's such a rare occurrence in Seattle.

Carly and Fredweird love snow. Of course they do. With all the rain that comes down here, one would long for a storm that left something behind other than wet hair and depressive moods. When it snows, it leaves behind, well, snow. Snow that they can play in, and they like that.

It snowed today. In late January, no one goes anywhere without an umbrella. Carly has a habit of putting one in her locker once we get back from Winter Break. But this year is different. This year, it's snowing.

I was over at Carly's after the show and the nub had just brought us some iced tea, and we were going to watch Girly Cow on the monitor when Carly shrieked happily-one of those high-pitched ones I can never pull off and ran to open one of the panes in the stained-glass window at the back of the studio. Cold air rushed in.

"Wait, is that snow?" Freddilupe ran over and joined her at the window. Carly bobbed her head excitedly. I reached my hand out the window and caught a snowflake on my finger. I put it in my mouth before it could melt, and tasted it.

"Aww, man! It just tastes like water. That's so boring!" I exclaimed, quite disappointed.

"What, did you expect it to be ham-flavored?" Freddie joked. I punched him in the arm and turned to Carly.

"Hey, can I stay over at your house tonight?" I knew I was always welcome at her house, and I was so used to staying there that asking was only a formality.

"No, not tonight. Sorry." I glanced at her, confused.

"It's Spencers medicine night," she explained, and I immediately understood. Twice a month, Spencer's "special doctor" gave him a "special pill" that he had to take, and he never let anyone but Carly be in the apartment the night he took it because he said it does "special things" to him that nobody needs to be around for. I don't think even Carly knows what happens when he takes it, he locks her in her room those nights.

"I should probably get going," I said, hoisting my jacket off the nearby hook and onto my arms.

"Bye!" Carly and the Nub said as I went into the elevator, the door closing behind me. It felt weird that Freddie was alone in the studio with Carly, but I assumed he would be leaving soon for his "tick bath." I laughed at the thought. The elevator chimed, and the door raised, revealing the lobby to me. Lewbert was sitting at his desk, doing…. well, I couldn't really tell and I didn't want to know. I pushed through the front doors, pulling my hood up over my head as the wind had started to pick up, blowing snow into my eyes, which burned in response. I quickly found it was best to keep my eyes on my feet.

Later, the bus dropped me two blocks from my house, right outside Chili My Bowl. I continued to walk, my feet leaving imprints in the small layer of snow that had gathered on the battered sidewalk. The cold started to seep in through the holes in the soles of my sneakers. I really needed to find a new pair, but I had been too lazy to do it yesterday, and now the snow would ruin all the ones outside. I looked up to see I had arrived at my house, number 34 and pushed open the door. My mom and I never bothered to lock it, there was nothing to steal except empty bottles and old dishes, and this way my mom's boyfriends could come whenever they wanted.

Which they did.

It wasn't a rare occurrence for me to wake up at 3 am or some other ungodly hour of the night to hear the door slamming, and a voice attached to a man who's name I never bothered to remember shouting something obscene to my mother. The only door that was ever locked in my house was my bedroom door, and it was a good thing too because if my mother wasn't home when her Boyfriend of the Week came in(and she often wasn't) I would see the doorknob to my bedroom rattle and shake, but never give. The one boyfriend my mother had who wasn't a waste of my time was Gary the Locksmith, who actually had some respect and dignity about his person, and had suggested I get a lock on my door, and then helped me install it, and it would never break. I was seven then. Now, whenever someone tries to break down my door, I stick my desk chair under it for good measure, if the weather's good I climb out my window and admire the light pollution of the city until the guy leaves, or if the weather's not great, like tonight, I hide in my closet until he goes.

There are two keys to my bedroom. One I have on a keychain attached to my phone(so I never lose it) and the other Carly keeps in the drawer in her nightstand, just in case. She doesn't know I put it in there, but she never goes in that drawer anyway. My mother will never get a key to my bedroom as long as I live in her house. Never.

I don't bother to pick up the empty Inside-Out burger wrappers or aluminum beer cans on the floor as I walk in, they'll be replaced quickly. Instead, I walk straight to the phone on the side table and look at the list of phone numbers next to it.

The phone is bolted to the table so my mom won't use it to knock someone out(it's happened), and I borrowed some Mod-Podge from Spencer to seal the phone-number list to the table so she can't use it as a napkin. Over the years I've had to make some adjustments to our house to avoid charges from, well, anyone, and I've become quite handy.

I find the number for the utility company, and call Bill, who used to date my mother before he finally put his life back together, broke up with her, and got a job in Customer Service. He takes care of all our heating and cooling, as well as plumbing and electrical needs and problems, and I still keep in touch with him because my mother won't bother to.

"Hey, Bill," I say over the line.

"Well if it isn't Samantha Puckett. It's been a while since I've heard from you."

"I called you two weeks ago."

"Well, it feels like longer. What can I do for you?"

"If you haven't looked out your window, it's snowing. Please tell me my mom paid the heating bill for this month." I closed my eyes, waiting for his reply.

"Hmmm…. nope. The last time she paid it was November. I'm sorry." He sighed over the phone.

"Well, it's to be expected. It is my mother."

"Yes, she's very irresponsible, isn't she?" He paused for a second, thinking, "Hey Sam, have you ever considered talking to a lawyer about whether you could get main access and control over your mother's banking account?"

"Wait, you can do that? But I'm a minor!"

"Yes, well, in some cases exceptions are made if the parent is not using the money responsibly, and the child, in this case, you, is old enough to make big financial decisions. You are fifteen, correct?"

"Yeah," I told him. If this happened, it would be amazing.

"Well, then, you're old enough. I'm assuming your mother still doesn't have a job, and you go to public school, right?"

"Yeah. My sister Melanie goes to boarding school, but it's out of state on a scholarship."

"That's great! It means you wouldn't have to worry about taxes, and only remember to pay bills each month. Your mother would only have as much money as you choose to let her have."

"That's such a great opportunity! Thank you so much, Bill!"

"No problem, Samantha. Get in touch with a lawyer. And remember, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you can call me. I'm not just here for utility bills." he joked.

"Will do, Bill. I gotta go, see you later?" He confirmed, and I hung up.

I stood for a second, contemplating the possibility Bill had just given me before I remembered why I had called him in the first place. I ran to the linen closet and grabbed all the blankets and sheets I could find, grabbing the ones with the least amount of holes and leaving some for my mother so she wouldn't be banging on my door demanding for some if she even came home at all. I expected she would. It had been two nights since I'd last seen her. She usually disappeared for two-three days, showed up and stayed for a week, moping about the mistakes she had made over the time she was gone that she would "never make again," but at the end of the week, she was gone, making the same mistakes. Besides, the snow would probably drive her out of whatever hell-hole she was hiding out in.

Piling the extra blankets on top of my bed, I ran back downstairs and into the kitchen. Frothy hissed at me, glaring at his empty bowl. I don't know why we have a cat. My mom wanted him, said he would be a good "bonding experience" and "life lesson in taking care of animals". My mom forgot he existed so I took care of him because he wouldn't leave, and the only life lesson I got was how to take care of cat bites. I rummaged through the cupboards to see if we had any cat food-surprise surprise, we didn't. I went through the rest of the cupboards to see if we had any food at all-surprise surprise, we didn't. Normally I would go out and get something from Chili My Bowl, but the thought of wet snow in my worn sneakers deterred me.

"Sorry Frothy," I said. I patted his butt, the only place I could touch without him biting me. "Looks like no food for tonight." He hissed and moved away from me angrily.

"Yeah." I gazed after him sadly. Usually, on cold nights, or nights I knew there was no food, I would stay at Carly's house. I stayed there so much that my bedroom in my own house wasn't personalized, it didn't have any of my stuff in it. Just a bed, a desk, and a chair, and a wardrobe that I only kept my worst clothes in. If I was staying at Carly's I was probably going to be seeing Carly a lot more through the day then on normal days, and I wanted to be wearing my better clothes. I usually only used my bedroom to sleep, since the lights only worked periodically.

I glanced at the clock on the wall before remembering it didn't work, so I looked at my phone. 8:36. Knowing my mother, she'd be home around eleven, but the storm threw me for a loop. Did she even care about the snow?

I noticed that I was shivering. Taking a look at the thermostat bolted to the wall and covered by a steel cage(so was the fire alarm), I could see that it was 30 degrees Farenheight, and dropping quickly. I was about to go and see if I could turn on the generator when I remembered it was in my mom's room. I avoided my mother's room at all costs. She had turned it into a place for her and her boyfriends to, well, you know, and she has had a LOT of boyfriends. I shivered harder and decided it was worth it, so I entered her room.

My mother's room smelled strongly of a mix of cologne, perfume, trash, and bodily fluids, a smell that had always lingered everywhere in my house, even my bedroom, but her room was clearly the source. I pulled my shirt over my nose and considered closing my eyes so I didn't have to see anything until I got to the generator, but then noticed the great amount of underwear strewn across the floor, and decided it was better to squint so I didn't step on anything gross. Crossing the large room, I reached the large generator and flipped the switch a few times. It didn't turn on. I wasn't expecting it to, but it made me feel better to know that I'd tried.

I ran out of the room at top speed, slamming the door behind me and releasing the breathe I'd been holding. I could hear my mom's car pulling up in front of the house, it's old engine sputtering so loudly I was surprised it still worked. She was home earlier than I'd expected. I headed upstairs to my room, wanting her to assume I wasn't home-like she'd notice, anyway. As I lay in bed, having nothing to do but think(too early to sleep, and the lights weren't working again.

People always judge me for taking money, for stealing food, or anything really, and for being defensive about the littlest things.

People also wonder why I never judge people who have strange habits and I don't know why.

A/N: I enjoyed writing this more than you would think. We're in quarantine and I have nothing else to do, so… I'll probably be updating this like every other day or something. So, yeah.

Stay healthy, people.