Acceptance Letter

by Mathais

Tucker finds a method to escape the chaos but can't figure out the right thing to do.

Story Title: Acceptance Letter

Author: Mathais

Rating: T

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Warnings: No PP and only a smattering of season 3 taken as canon.

Pairings: Sort of Danny/Sam and what can be construed as one-sided!Tucker/Valerie, but they aren't the main focus.

Summary: Tucker finds a method to escape the chaos but can't figure out the right thing to do.

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom and its associated elements. I'm just here to play.

OoOoO

Congratulations, you have been accepted...

They were the words he hadn't dared to hope for.

And now they sat in a single, innocent letter.

A single letter that held the source of all his problems.

Well, most of them.

Tucker didn't need to see the letter on his bed to know what it said. The application and the interview had been completed on a whim, a simple whim, done to appease his parents.

Now, having it in his grasp, he didn't know what to feel. He knew he should feel excited. It was a wonderful opportunity. It was an amazing, prestigious school, and one a lot better than most people expected of him.

But... Drawing back from the gutted PDA beneath him, Tucker sighed and gave it up as a lost cause at the moment. He knew he couldn't concentrate on anything delicate and, his eyes being drawn to his PC, anything that would require any sort of concentration. So, Doomed II was out.

Leaning back on his chair and drawing his hat down over his eyes, Tucker thought about his options.

Tucker knew he could do it. He could leave Amityville behind. He could head far away and finally make a name for himself. All of the programming skills he gained, all of the engineering prowess he'd scraped together over the years—he could do something with it. Go to school, start up a business, become successful. There was no shortage of people who'd hire him, with familiarity in a wide range of electronics and much practical experience. It wasn't his only way out, but it was the best.

On the other hand... Without meaning to, his fingers strayed to the cool case of Fenton Lipstick that he had with him all the time. Out of all the weapons in the Fenton arsenal, most of which he knew how to operate and, after a lot of tinkering, how to repair, the Fenton Lipstick continued to be his favorite. Sam, on the other hand, preferred the Fenton Wrist Rays, though she had deadly accuracy with ectoguns. It was a functional weapon, no nonsense and yet multipurpose, with a working clock now integrated into it. Admittedly more practical, Sam wielded it with brutal efficiency, allowing none to stand in the way of her goals. The Wrist Ray didn't hide itself; although one had to look to see its use, Sam displayed it proudly for all to see. On the other hand, Danny liked his ghost side as opposed to any other weapon, though even he could use one in a pinch. The ghost side made him strong, powerful—and he'd learned some humility with his position. But it was versatile, offering a wide variety of abilities and ways to attack. And it could fade away at the end of the day—though an inextricable part of him—when he reverted back to his human form. If it weren't for the strength in his eyes or the toned frame he'd worked so hard for, an onlooker couldn't tell that there was anything to hide.

But Tucker? Tucker liked the lipstick. He liked the way that it stood out on him; how by hiding it, people who saw it thought that the lipstick was all he was hiding. No need to know that he was a crack shot with it, that it was a weapon in the first place. Misdirection. Making obvious one thing to draw attention from another.

He couldn't be like Sam, who stood proudly at the forefront. Sam never backed down from who she was. She held herself and her labels proudly, even as she fought tooth and nail to go beyond those. He also couldn't be like Danny, who could fade at the end of the day and hide a monumental part of himself. Danny could let himself slide into the shadows, only allowing those whom he wanted to see even glimpse at his truth.

But Tucker could misdirect. He could draw as many labels to himself as he could—technogeek, loser, freak, wimp—and let other people define him by them, so that they couldn't see what he truly wanted hidden. Never fade, but spin the truth they want to see as loud as he could so that they never gazed anywhere else, never realized that what he showed was a fraction of the whole.

And, as his fingers clenched around the lipstick's case, that was it, wasn't it? He hid so much of himself so that people couldn't see. There were only a few people he could open up to, a few people who knew the real him. Could he...

The ringing of his cell phone broke him out of his thoughts. Digging his hand into his pocket, he activated the tech without a thought. "Tuck here, what's up?"

"Ghost down near the Nasty Burger," Sam's voice, in control with a little hint of panic, washed over him. "Got some friends on the way, and Danny's going to need some help. You in?"

Tucker was already moving, grabbing a spare thermos and an ectogun even as his mind raced. "How much time do I got?"

"Ten minutes."

"On it."

Slipping the Fenton Lipstick and his cell into his pocket, he was out the door without a second thought.

OoOoO

Tucker was about to shoot but vividly cursed when Danny spoiled it by swooping in, locked in a fistfight with a brawny ghost. "Danny, to your right!" he called into his headset, just as he ducked and rolled out of the way of a blast of ectoplasm. Ignoring the burning his arm from scraped asphalt, he aimed and snapped out two shots which hit true. He uncapped the Fenton Thermos with a triumphant hiss and claimed his prize as bright light swallowed his opponent.

Gasping for breath, Tucker took a moment to regain his equilibrium. They'd been out for at least an hour chasing down various spooks. It turned out that the friends of the first one had spawned more friends, and they were starting to get worn down by sheer persistence, no matter how weak the ghosts were individually. His muscles ached and his limbs shook when adrenaline faded more than a little bit, but Danny and Sam were still fighting. Even now, Sam was murmuring a steady stream of information into his ear as she took down one more.

"One down here," Tucker called out, and Sam replied in an affirmative. The ghost tracker slipped into his hand easily, and a quick glance showed no more in the area. "I'm going to back Danny up. How many more are left?"

"Not much, but don't count on it staying so."

Grimacing, Tucker got to his feet and, forcing his feet to move, began to head in the same direction as Danny had disappeared. His grip tightened on his gun, eyes scanning the surrounding for threats. When fighting ghosts, there was no such thing as an impossible venue of attack. Walls, ceilings, floors... After seeing Danny easily sneak up against what few human opponents he had by phasing through the wall, both he and Sam had taken the message to heart, but there was no way one person could cover all entrances and exits, especially not in battle.

Which is why, when he finally found Danny, his blood ran cold. It seemed like a normal battle, with Danny taking on two ghosts at once via a dizzying display of acrobatic flying. But when he looked out, he saw another ghost phase out of the ground. This one was different. It was... It looked stronger, more corporeal than the others. Its glow was darker, more menacing, with a distinctive power that all of the others had lacked. And in its hands, an orb was growing, small but concentrated, with the color of ectoplasm. Before Tucker realized it, his weapon was up, and he was screaming, "Danny!" as loud as he could. His shots, a veritable flurry of blasts, impacted before the ghost could release its orb. Unfortunately, they did little but anger the ghost, who turned and, as Tucker was still recovering, fired straight at him. Even as he spun, attempting to twist out of the way, the orb landed exactly where it should have.

Tucker screamed from the burning, freezing sensation that invaded his side. "Tucker!" Danny cried as his body was flung through the air. He tried not to whimper as he landed hard against the cement and skidded against the ground. He blacked out as soon as he stopped.

Blink.

Head now extremely fuzzy, Tucker looked up amid the sound of renewed battle.

Blink.

Two tough guys held Danny by the arms, doing their very best to prevent him from going intangible.

Blink.

The head ghost was gloating, something shining red around his neck. "...because...amulet...I...can...clones..."

Blink.

His gun was toast in his hand.

Blink.

But his other hand was touching warm metal.

Blink.

Without meaning to, his fingers stretched slowly; it pulled at his side, but he desperately ignored the blood staining his shirt.

Blink.

Fingers stained red closed on the case.

Blink.

Unwaveringly pointing it into the air, Tucker aimed and fired.

Blink.

Blink.

The lipstick fell from his fingers to clatter onto the ground, its purpose complete. Something red and fading color dropped onto the street.

Silence.

Silence...?

"Tucker! Tucker, stay with me!"

Groaning, Tucker felt consciousness return, though he could feel little else. He looked up at Sam's face hovering above his own but had to ask, "How's Danny?"

Sam smiled through her tears. "He's fine, you idiot. How could you just...? You stupid boy."

"Help me up, will you?" Tucker groaned as he attempted to shift his side, only to realize that Sam was applying pressure to it.

"You're bleeding pretty bad, Tuck. I'm not sure how we're going to hide this one."

Tucker grinned at her. "Aw, come on. Enough bandages to stop the bleeding, and nobody will know a thing!"

"As long as you can explain what happened to your shirt when your mom comes to do your laundry," Sam snapped back.

"Hey!" Tucker replied with mock indignation. "I'll have you know that blood and rips are all the rage this day!" He didn't have the strength to do a mocking fashion spin, but his waggling eyebrows did the job for him. Sam released a laugh. A shaky laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. "Now help me up. We can't stay long."

For a moment, Sam looked like she would protest, but when Tucker held her gaze long enough, her practical side won out. While Tucker was by no means the stick-thin nerd of freshman year, Sam had not been honing just her aim over the years, and between the two of them they managed to get him on his feet, Sam supporting his bad side while Tucker made sure not to weigh either of them too heavily. And having someone materialize on his other side and support him there helped immensely.

Of course, the laughter that ensured from Danny's panicked, "Tucker, I'm here and—DON'T SHOOT, DON'T SHOOT!" made an abominable pain shoot up his side, but it was so worth it.

"You get him, Danny?" Tucker asked.

Danny's grin was just the answer he needed. "Thermos'd. Now, we just have to have a discussion on exactly what you did back there."

"Oh crap." Tucker knew that look in his eye. Over the years, Danny had done some hard growing. He was now more comfortable accepting help, even as he tried hard not to need it. He'd also initially balked at the more active role he and Sam had taken in their ghost hunting. Danny eventually came to accept it after both of them refused to be sidelined, and, subsequently, he also worried about them that much more.

And for every reckless act they did, Danny always berated them. The hypocrite.

"Hey Danny, you realize you're still ghost, right?" Tucker said. "And how'd you take him out, anyway?"

Danny's form wavered a bit as the familiar rings appeared and shifted him back to human form, the transformation now nothing but an afterthought. "Well, the thing is, he isn't very strong unless he has time to charge up, so when I got around to it, he was easy to smack around. And the reason why we had so much trouble was because he could draw on some of the residual emotion in the area and work clones, which was what had us chasing spooks around the entire time. The amulet controlled all of that though, but when you, Tuck—" Danny's mouth immediately froze, and Tucker winced at the harsh glare in Danny's blue eyes. "Don't think you can just distract me—"

"—where are we going this time?" Tucker desperately cut in. "My mom's home right now."

Danny shot him a look but responded anyway. "My parents have been getting a little on my case again. I don't think we could get him there without anyone noticing."

"My place it is then." Sam sighed.

Tucker would have tried to cheer her up, but a fresh wave of pain which he had been deliberately ignoring caused him to swoon a little, and he felt dizzy and weaker than before. Sam immediately noticed his stumble.

"Danny, I think we need to get going a bit faster."

Danny looked into his eyes, and Tucker realized that some of his pain must've shown in them because Danny nodded once and abruptly turned back into Danny Phantom. "I'm flying us there."

Tucker didn't say anything; as Danny took them into the air, it was all he could do to stay conscious.

OoOoO

The next day, Tucker shut his locker with barely a sigh. His body ached (not that it was an entirely new feeling), and his torso was wrapped up in some many bandages that he would make a truly tasteless mummy joke if it weren't him in them, but he was still afraid that he would bleed through.

"You all right?"

At the familiar voice, Tucker looked to his left and gave a tired smile. "Yeah, Val. I'm good."

Valerie Gray was someone else who'd done some hard growing over the years. Her body was now outfitted with sleek muscle, but as her body grew stronger, her personality grew softer. Though she kept up her training, Valerie had instead started focusing her attention on her studies after Danny Phantom had proved to have things under better control, and especially after that incident. In the same way, she had learned to slowly let go of her vendetta against ghosts, and, without the ever-present hate, she'd learned how to be hard and soft at the same time, to augment her strength with kindness.

It was never more evidenced until that point, when Valerie managed to somehow place an arm against the lockers to block his path without seeming threatening.

"I know you're not all right, Tucker. You wince with every move." She stared him down, strong eyes meeting defiant ones. "You're not overdoing it, are you?"

"I'm fine, Val. Just worked a bit too hard yesterday." He tried to inject as much sincerity as he could into his gaze and barely held the joke on his tongue.

Valerie backed off with a small huff. "As long as you get proper rest, that's fine. You need to sleep more."

"Yes, mother," he sniggered.

She swatted him on the shoulder, so light that it didn't even aggravate his wounds. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." Valerie rolled her eyes before sighing and suddenly seeming more hesitant. "Hey, are you free now?"

Tucker thought back to his homework and his extracurriculars. Some of their ectoguns needed repair, and he still had to finish that report for English, but... It was Valerie. She was a friend. And, as he'd learned over the years, that was really all that mattered.

"Yeah, I'm got time," he said. Leaning back against the metal of the lockers and letting their cold numb the ache in his back, he gave her a cocky grin. "So, what'd you need the ol' Tuckmeister for?"

Rolling her eyes at him, Valerie nodded toward the Casper High's exit. "Walk with me. There's this café I like a few blocks down."

Even after all these years, it was hard to ignore that uncomfortable tug in his gut that she inspired. "Why, Valerie, if all you wanted was a date, you only had to ask."

She snorted in response and punched him in the shoulder. "Just walk with me. I don't want to head to Nasty Burger."

Rubbing his arm ruefully, almost sure that it would bruise, Tucker followed. He almost expected her to say something as they walked, but she was silent. Companionably so, but still quiet.

And that was when Tucker truly realized how much she'd changed. Valerie was so far beyond who she was, had been, when they were younger. Now? Now she was blossoming. Sure in herself that she didn't have to cover up silences with chatter or hate, sure enough that they could walk together and feel at peace without the need to speak.

When they reached a small café, out of the way and quiet, Tucker was again struck by this different Valerie, who so easily slid into this place and made it her own. She smiled as an older woman with an aged but strong grip came over and had a small chat, completely comfortable. She ended with an order for a tea, and Tucker was surprised once more when she accepted a pat on the shoulder with an affectionate smile.

Wow, it seemed like all he was doing was being surprised.

"And what about you, young man?"

"Um," Tucker fumbled for a moment before ordering the first thing that came to mind. "A coffee please, black."

As the woman walked away with one more affection pat to the shoulder, Valerie raised one eyebrow. "When did you start drinking coffee black?"

To be honest, Tucker had discovered the drink one morning after a long night of ghost-hunting and was far too tired to remember the sugar or cream. And in some small, private part of him, the bitterness had meaning. "It helps me focus." After a moment, he said, "You're comfortable here."

"Anne, the owner? She's a good person to talk to. She'll listen, and she doesn't hold back, but... You feel better afterwards. You're always better off." Valerie steepled her fingers and tilted her head to the side, lost in memories.

"I can see where you get some of that."

"Much better than the brat I was before, huh?" When Tucker moved to deny it, Valerie merely shook her head. "No, Tuck, I know how I was before. It's fine. It's just... Anne reminds me of my mother."

Tucker didn't respond, only let her continue to speak.

"That core of steel beneath the velvet, I think the phrase goes. She's helped me through a lot."

"And I adored every bit of it," Anne chuckled as she laid down their drinks, with a two slices of cake settled between them. When they tried to protest, Anne merely waved them off and patted Valerie's shoulder. Before she left though, she leaned down and whispered audibly, "He seems like a fine young man." She cackled as she walked away and left two blushing teenagers in her wake.

"She's a good woman," Tucker said finally.

"The best," Valerie agreed. She took a moment to sip at her tea, as if steadying herself, and then spoke. "So, I guess you're wondering why I asked you here."

"Aside from my witty personality?"

"Yeah, aside from that," Valerie snorted. "I got an acceptance letter yesterday."

"Congrats."

Valerie offered a small smile. "It's a good, no, great school."

"...for physical therapy?" softly guessed Tucker.

For a moment, Valerie was silent. "How'd you know?"

"It's not exactly a secret that you spent a lot of time at the hospital after..." Here, Tucker hesitated in a rare show of tact. The incident was probably still raw.

"After my fool self nearly got her arm torn off because she was so intent on beating Phantom that she didn't watch her back," Valerie finished with a wry twist of the lips. "No need to beat around the bush." It was a testament to her strength that she allowed herself to touch her scarred shoulder openly without any tentativeness.

Tucker closed his eyes in remembrance as he drank his coffee. That had been a tense time for both Team Phantom and Casper High, with Valerie in the hospital as the first major, visible victim. It'd taken a lot of time and effort for Valerie to get to her current state, but she was strong again and now in more ways than one. Even after her sessions were done, Valerie continued to hang around the hospital, even volunteering. It didn't take a genius to see where she was headed, not after the bio and health classes she'd taken.

"Your arm all right?"

"It's as good as it's gonna get," she said. She didn't let go of her grip on her mug of tea and instead seemed to be cupping it in her hands. "The reason why I'm saying this is 'cause the school's on the east coast. Massachusetts. Boston, actually."

Tucker's mind flashed to the letter inside of his desk. "...that's pretty far," he finally said.

"I know. I know it's far and there's plenty of good places nearby as well that..." Valerie broke off into a sigh as she tightened her grip. "I just need to get away from this. I need to find my place, you know what I mean?"

"Too many ghost problems?"

"If only." She laughed harshly. "I need a place where I'm not worried I'll become that person again. I need to be able to heal and protect, not just hurt everyone around me."

"You do good work at the hospital," he said. "The staff always say so."

Valerie merely looked at him before her lips twisted upward. "Thanks, Tuck." The two merely sat there, sipping at the fading warmth of their drinks as Valerie mustered up her courage—or maybe pushing away the instinctual tact, Tucker supposed, as he couldn't see Valerie being anything but brave if foolishly so—and he gathering his thoughts.

"Tucker, have you ever thought about taking a break too? I know that you've been doing... things," which was the closest Valerie would ever come to admitting that she knew he fought, "but have you ever thought of leaving as well?"

"I have." The words left his lips before he could stop them. Valerie's eyes snapped open in a look that did nothing to ease the knot of guilt in his stomach. "I mean—"

"It's all right. It's all right," she murmured. "I'm not here to judge. I just thought it might do you some good to get away from here, y'know?"

"I..."

"It's not running away," she continued over his protests. "It's your choice. It's always your choice."

"I know that. I know that," Tucker nearly yelled but held back at the last moment.

"Then don't let anyone take that from you. You can always be a little selfish when it comes to this."

Tucker stilled the bitter comment on his tongue about how he'd always been selfish and swallowed it with an equally bitter gulp of coffee.

"Tuck, I just want to see you all right."

The pure sincerity in her voice caught him off guard and made his reply stick in his throat. There was an indescribably weird hurt in his stomach once more, and it was with holding back what felt like tears that he said, "Thanks, Val." Then something else came to mind. "Did I ever apologize for standing you up freshman year?"

Valerie blinked in surprise. "Um, no..."

"Then I'm really, really sorry that I ruined your first high school dance."

Valerie gave him a soft smile. "That's ancient history, Tucker, but I appreciate it all the same. You're a good friend."

Tucker swallowed the last of his coffee to cover his suddenly dry throat and then set to work on his cake slice, just as Valerie did the same.

The bittersweet taste of chocolate was as sharp as ever.

OoOoO

Tucker mulled over the conversation for days afterward. When pressed, he said that the energy converter on one of the ectoguns was being finicky and then worked extra hard to be loud, obnoxious, and full of lame humor.

It seemed to work on Danny, who merely slung an arm around his shoulders and offered to help. On the other hand, Sam gave him a shrewd look before backing off.

Tucker was fully aware that she knew it was routine work to take care of such a problem, but he took what he could get.

It was after one such night of barely being able to sleep that Tucker stumbled into the school. He nearly groaned when he saw Sam and Danny in the middle of yet another argument. He did not want to deal with this lover's spat.

No matter how much growing they'd done, there were definitely times when Danny's laid back, hard-headed thoughtlessness managed to clash with Sam's need to be right and moments of utter hypocrisy. Normally, Tucker would be right in the mix of things, trying to both wake Danny up and knock Sam off her high horse in order to stroke his own ego, but today he simply did not have the energy to care. So he ignored his friends and instead slipped into a classroom and began fiddling with his PDA. He knew that smartphones would be the way to go in the future, but this PDA was special; infused with ectoplasm and upgraded by Technus, it still hadn't need charging and ate updates like little else. Tucker had fun devising new programs using its unique programming language.

Of course, by the time he reached lunch, Tucker thought he probably should have been there.

It was like, Cold War 2.0 when he showed up to their usual lunch spot. It went beyond the pettiness of their earlier years; the atmosphere was truly frigid. As Sam jabbed at a piece of wilting lettuce and Danny slurped idly at his milk, neither looking at the other, Tucker plopped himself down next to them and asked, "Okay, what's going on here?"

Silence answered him. Rapping his fingers against the table, Tucker tried again, "What is going on, guys?"

"I'm going to Westdale," Sam said. Tucker knew she was referring to one of several nearby universities and one of the better ones as well.

"And rejecting Stanford to do so," Danny countered, slamming his milk carton down.

Tucker's stomach dropped.

"Westdale has a competitive political science program. They always have speakers coming in for their classes, and their alumni tend to be on the better end of successful when it comes to jobs."

"And you know it's small fries compared to Stanford! Stanford, Sam!"

"I know what I'm doing."

"It's for a shitty reason, Sam, and you know it," Danny all but growled.

"And where are you going?" Sam shot back.

Lips pressed into a thin line and shoulders tense, Danny averted his gaze. "You know I have to stay here, Sam. I can't leave."

"Your mom and dad talked about you getting into some of the UC's, and I know they're competitive," Sam said. "You can just as easily leave. I know you can!"

"But not while I still have my responsibilities here," Danny snapped, his voice rising. "I have to stay here! It's my choice to stay!"

"Then respect my choice to stay too!" Sam's volume increases to match his.

"You still have a future away from this! You can head off and do whatever you want!"

"And what if what I want is this, Danny? What if—"

"Cool it!" Tucker interjected loudly. "This isn't the place for this conversation! Let's finish this in one of the classrooms, okay? You're freaking out the bystanders."

Though he tried to keep the last statement light, his eyes darted around to take in the shocked faces of the surrounding students. Time had done wonders for their reputations; they weren't the bottom of the barrel anymore, especially in the eyes of the underclassmen who knew none of their awkward adolescence and instead saw the cool, tightly bound unit they had become, defenders of the weak and protectors of the bullied (the football team had been the first to find out how strong they'd become when they tried their shit when Danny was in range). With the advent of their minor popularity, they weren't afforded the same invisibility they had years prior. Now, people might actually pay attention to them—especially when they fought each other for real.

One hand on each of his friends' arms, leaving only enough time for them to gather their bags, Tucker steered them into one of the empty classrooms. All but flinging them into the room, Tucker crossed his arms and said, "If I'm getting things right, Sam, you got into Stanford, Stanford, and you're going to Westdale instead. Danny, obviously, doesn't agree."

"He said he's going to Westdale too," Sam retorted. "I don't see what's wrong with me going there."

"Because it's Stanford, Sam!" Danny shouted, voice instantly raised. "You're throwing away one of the best schools in the nation!"

"And that's my choice to make! Damn it, Danny, I accepted the fact that you're going to Westdale despite getting into UCLA and Berkley! Why can't you accept the same from me?"

"You don't have to stay here! I'm Danny Phantom! I'm the only one needed!"

"Don't you dare say that," Sam's voice whipped out, cold and brittle. "Don't you dare say that! I may not have ghost powers and you may be Danny Phantom, but we are Team Phantom, together. Don't you dare mitigate what we've done or I swear I will punch you right now, you ignorant—"

"—chill!" Tucker snapped when Sam raised a fist as if to do just that. "Chill out, Sam, before you do something you're going to regret."

"I wouldn't regret a second of it," Sam muttered.

Turning to Danny, Tucker said, "Danny, I'm not going to lie—that hurt."

Danny's gaze dropped. "I'm sorry, guys. I shouldn't have said it like that. But it's true: I'm the only one who needs to be here. You two can just walk away."

"But, dude, that's the thing. It's our choice. It's a choice for us to make."

"We chose this path, and we will continue to choose whether to stay on it," Sam continued. "And me? I'm staying. So, yes, Danny, I'm going to stay, because it's my choice."

"I just wish—" But Danny broke off, because they all have had wishes bite them in the ass. "I just wanted..."

"You can't take that away from us, Danny." Sam laid a hand on his slumped shoulder. "That choice? It's ours. You've made yours. Let me make mine."

"Sam..." Danny's eyes tracked her first and then to Tucker. "Tuck..."

"Let us make our own choices, Danny." Tucker came to flank Danny's other side, and the smile that lighted on his face was worth it. For a moment, just a moment, Danny smiled in such a way that made Tucker's gut clench.

Yes, the choice was theirs. Danny and Sam had made their own.

Now, Tucker had to make his.

OoOoO

Tucker pushed away the last remnants of his homework with a sigh.

There would be no putting this off any longer.

Tucker opened his desk drawer and pulled out his acceptance letter. They'd gone small this year; it was a tiny thing, something easily missed and something he could swipe out of the mail before his parents ever saw. Originally a guard against broadcasting his failure—now, a preventive measure in case the decision was against it and he wanted to avoid the endless nagging.

In his head, he laid out the two choices.

One, stay in Amityville and go to Westdale. Its science and engineering programs, while not the best, were somewhat respectable. There were plenty of local businesses—Tucker remembered Axiom Labs's internship offer—that he could build credibility with either for a job or for graduate school.

Two, go to the east coast and join one of the nation's best schools. It was an unparalleled opportunity; this was one of the most renown schools in the nation for that he was going into. There were very little people who hadn't heard of it. He could start as a new person, with none of the baggage of the past. And Valerie would be there as well—in the same city. He would have someone he knew around if he needed to touch base. Tucker would be a fool to turn it down.

But...

Sam.

Danny.

Both had already stated their intentions to stay in Amityville. Tucker knew that it would drive an even bigger wedge between Sam and her family, to turn down an opportunity like Stanford—all to guard their town against the ghost threat in a mission Sam could never speak of. Danny had given up some very competitive schools for the same. They both had chosen to stay.

But...

But some part of him did want this. The same part he knew existed in Danny, who would look at the stars some nights with the most pensive look Tucker had ever seen. The same part that had Sam wistfully watching rallies over the internet as people gathered for one cause or another.

Valerie was leaving. She'd had enough of this life and was taking time off to regroup, and Tucker could not begrudge her that, not after her battle.

Tucker had fought. He'd spent his entire high school career fighting.

Sometimes, like Valerie, he even wanted a break from all this.

That was a selfish thought.

...was guilt over being selfish enough to give him regrets?

If there was something Tucker was resolved to do, it was make this decision with no regrets. Once he made this choice, he would stick with it. There would be no going back, no second chances.

That was Tucker's conviction.

And, as he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Tucker knew that he had already made his choice.

For all the strength he had now, he would be nowhere without his friends. He would still be the self-absorbed, weak loser of his freshman year. To pay back even a little of what they'd given him...

No, he'd have no regrets.

This was his path.

His choice.

He was a member of Team Phantom. He'd put in his time, but even still, their goal hadn't been reached. Though he knew that his friends would always allow him his choice—hell, they'd encourage him to leave if that was what he wanted, Tucker also knew that there was only one choice that he could live with. He would see this through to the end.

He would not abandon his friends.

For the two people who saw him as he really was, who were themselves sacrificing by making the choice to stay...

Yes, he would do it.

Tucker turned on the monitor to his computer and opened his word processor. The words flowed easily from his fingertips.

Thank you for your letter offering me admittance to your school, but after considering my options...