Chapter 1:

Jazz Fenton tapped the eraser of her pencil impatiently against the table. The guy she was supposed to be tutoring was five minutes late. She sighed, flipping through the sociology book she was supposed to be going over with him.

"Hey Jazz." Danny greeted his sister nonchalantly. "What's up?"

Jazz lifted her chin out of her palm.

"Oh, hey Danny. I'm just waiting for my latest tutoring student. He was supposed to be here five whole minutes ago. If he's this late to all his classes too, no wonder he's failing sociology."

"Well maybe he got held up. Who is he, anyways?"

"No one you'd know, he's a senior. M.M. Stanton."

"You're tutoring a senior? Cool." Danny grinned at his sister.

"Not if he doesn't ever get here." She grumbled. "Lazy, tardy, no-brained jocks, I'm sick of tutoring guys who just aren't willing to put in the effort."

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it on the way out," offered Danny.

Jazz smiled to herself, Danny had been in a good mood recently.

Danny opened the door to a tall guy who was breathing heavily.

"Hey, you must be the guy Jazz is waiting for."

"Yeah," the guy wheezed. "Sorry I'm late, I decided to jog here and it took me longer than I expected."

Danny nodded. "She's in the kitchen." He pointed to the kitchen door and saddled his backpack between his shoulders.

Danny turned as he went out the door. "Hey Jazz, I'm off, and your guy is here!"

Jazz walked out of the kitchen to meet her new student. He was tall, muscular, and wearing jogging sweats. Beads of sweat were rolling down his brown hair and his brow.

He was cute.

Jazz softened a little, and then reminded herself that she had the serious business of helping this guy bring up his grade.

"You're late. Come on, we'll be working in the kitchen." She heard the door close behind Danny. Knowing Danny, he would be heading out to meet Tucker and Sam to hang out and fight ghosts.

It was tough sitting on the sidelines as her little bro, her responsibility, was off endangering himself to save the town. But she had learned the hard way that her place was on the sidelines. She had her own way of helping out, though. She covered for him with their parents, helped him with his homework, and was there for him when he was feeling down.

Speaking of homework…

M.M. Stanton was perusing the refrigerator. He glanced over at a small box in the back that had been chained closed. He pulled it out, curious.

"Leave that alone!" Jazz snapped at him.

M.M. Stanton shoved the box back into its corner. He stood up, facing her, his face turning red.

"Sorry, I was just a little hungry after my jog." He apologized.

"Not hungry enough to try my parent's cooking, I promise you." Jazz pulled her chair out, sitting down in front of the book and papers she'd prepared.

M.M. Stanton sat down next to her, flipping the chair around so that the back was between his legs. He leaned over the chair's back, folding his arms.

"Okay Mr. Stanton," she started, opening the book.

"Call me Marz."

"Is that what the M stands for?"

"Actually it's Marcelle Marceu, after the famous French comedian."

Jazz stared at him blankly.

"He was a mime. My parents are both mimes and they hoped I'd following their footsteps." He grinned self-consciously. He hadn't meant to tell her that. He felt like an idiot.

"Well, Marz, let's start off with peer groups…"

"That was a Gucci!" the blonde ghost screeched at Danny. She lifted up the ruined ghost shoe. "You'll pay for that! Get him girls!"

The clique of teenaged ghost girls charged at Danny, their manicured nails extending in claws, and their pearly teeth elongated into needle-like fangs.

Danny flew underground. The harpies swooped past where he had been floating, confused.

Sam burst out of the Aeropostle store where she and Tucker had been hiding. Sam whipped out the Fenton thermos from the spider-shaped bag.

"Take this, you shallow, self-centered, media-obsessed, parasitic, boy-hogging witches!" A blue light shot out of the thermos, sucking in the distracted lead ghost. The ghost clawed at the air as she fought the vacuum. Finally the thermos won out, and Sam capped the lid.

The other ghosts stared blankly at each other for a moment, then scattered, escaping out mall's skylight.

There was a sound of escaping air and a white light from behind her, and Danny crawled out from behind one of the mannequins.

"Having fun, Sam?" He smirked at her.

"That was surprisingly therapeutic." She gave him a mischievous grin.

"Man, I've got a fake fingernail still stuck in my arm!" Tucker complained, pulling the offending piece of porcelain out of his forearm.

"We'll get you some antiseptic and a band-aid." Sam said, waving it off.

"Well, we missed the beginning of the movie." Danny shrugged, staring up at the clock.

"Well, we got to fight some really hot ghosts and Sam got to take out some of her goth frustration on someone, so I'd say it was a pretty successful afternoon." Tucker pulled out his PDA. "And there's another showing tomorrow."

"Food Court?" Danny asked.

"Food Court." His friends agreed.

Life had taken a pleasant upturn, Danny decided. He knew it wouldn't stay that way, but for the moment, he was content. His grades were acceptable, so he wasn't in trouble with Lancer for the moment, Dash was at an away game, so he was pretty much bully-free until Monday, and his parents were doing maintenance on the Ghost Portal, so the ghost threats would be lower for a little while. For once, he could relax.

Oh yeah right.