Disclaimer: I wish I wish I owned Danny Phantom! Desiree: -turns me into Butch Hartman- AHHHHHHHHH! CHANGE ME BACK CHANGE ME BACK! -is changed back-

I know. WHY ARE YOU STARTING ANOTHER FANFICTION YOU CRAZY PERSON! Well this is a co-written fanfiction so it's going to actually be finished, so shut up. This is co-written with Trevor The Enchantor. The OC is, like almost every OC I have, based on a real life person.

Jazz muttered another quick apology as she bumped into somebody again. She knew that Hartman University of Law was large, but she didn't know that the place was crammed with students. Students of all shapes, sizes, histories, races and both genders attended there.

"The things I do for Danny," she mumbled under her breath as she pulled her books closer to her, huffing unhappily as she weaved through the campus crowd. It's true; Jazz was accepted into Harvard with a full scholarship…but it was so far away. What if something happened to Danny? Hartman University of Law was the closest school within a thirty mile radius that taught what she wanted to major in.

She suddenly dashed away from the crowd into a Starbucks. Breathing in the scent of fresh coffee, she walked over to the counter. The Starbucks was empty, save for a few college students typing away rapidly at laptops with some gulping down their drinks in between. her roommate was curled up on a corner chair, sipping from her cup as her mind was lost in a book.

"Regular coffee with cream please," she told the acne-covered boy behind the counter as she pulled out her Starbucks card. It was Danny's "going away" gift. He saved up and put almost seventy dollars on the card for her, a real sweet gift.

"Card was declined," the boy shyly told her, shifting a bit uncomfortably as he handed it back to her. "Order's three fifty, but there's only a dollar fifteen on there."

Jazz blinked in amazement. She drunk that much coffee already? No matter, she should still have that five dollar bill on her. She reached into her pocket and felt a wave of embarrassment hit her. She didn't feel any money, swearing in her head as she remember buying coffee earlier that morning before her first class.

"I don't have any cash on me," she said a bit embarrassed, her cheeks flushing a bright pink. The boy nodded understandingly before he began to delete her request.

"I'll pay for it," one of the boys hidden behind his laptop spoke up as he took out his wallet, standing up. He walked over to her, and Jazz realized that it was that one slightly-overweight boy in the library that always often talked to himself as he searched the giant library.

"Oh, that's okay," she immediately replied.

"No, it's fine," he told her as he pulled out a five to the boy. He took the money and put it in the register before handing the boy the change.

"Would you like a receipt?" he asked the two, looking back and forth. Both shook their heads no. He shrugged and a receipt printed out, only to be thrown into the trash can. "Name?"

"Jazz," she told him. The worker nodded and wrote "Jazz" in sloppy letters before checking the orders and passing it off to a pretty red-head who began to expertly make the coffee.

"That was really sweet of you," Jazz admitted to the strange guy as they stepped off to the side so that another laptop person could order something from another worker.

"No problem. Crap! My laptop!" he said as he rushed over to his laptop. He quickly saved everything before shutting it down. He put it into his backpack before slinging it over a shoulder. "Enjoy your coffee."

Jazz immediately thanked the worker who just then handed her the coffee before hurrying after him, coffee in one hand and two books in the other.

"Wait!" she called after him before she managed to catch up. The crowd was thankfully thinning, so she caught up with him easier. "What's your name?"

The boy glanced at her before shifting his backpack slightly in discomfort.

"Tristan," he replied briefly.

"I like that name," Jazz commented, smiling at him. He spared her only another quick glance, which disappointed Jazz slightly. He had cute blue eyes.

"It has Celtic origins, but its meaning has been lost. Might be derived from the Old Celtic name Drysdan. The sources through which this name has come to us have associated it with the Latin 'tristis' and French 'triste', which means sad, which fits well with the famous story of Tristan and Isolde. In the story - which varies, Tristan is a knight who is sent by King Mark of Cornwall to fetch Isolde of Ireland, who King Mark is to marry. Tristan and Isolde fall in love, but Isolde has to marry the King, so their love is doomed. Their story was the subject of Wagner's opera 'Tristan and Isolde'," he replied. Jazz blinked before laughing briefly. He felt a little stupid. Did he ramble again? He did, didn't he? Could he get any stupider? His past experiences with girls taught him again and again to not ramble like an idiot. Then again, only an idiot wouldn't learn from his experiences. Did she think he was weird now? Or just stupid? Wait, she's still here?

"Never met anybody who knew so much about their own name before," she admitted as she took extra steps to keep up with his faster pace. He glanced towards her five minutes later and was surprised to find that she was still there.

"Uh…wanna sit down for a moment?" he suggested, fearing the answer. What if that came off as creepy? But he had no worries, for she smiled and nodded.

"Sure. There's a bench over there," she said, nodding her head towards a small bench. He followed her over there. She gave a slightly dramatic sigh as she dropped her books and messenger bag onto the bench before plopping down. Tristan was more graceful, gently putting his bag next to hers and sitting on the other side of it.

"So…uh…um…enjoying the coffee?" he asked, feeling awkward and nervous. He fiddled with the bottom of his shirt, occasionally pulling on it in an attempt to cool some of the nervous sweat that was beginning to form.

"Yes, very much," she said, smiling brightly at him. He was a tad overweight and seemed kind of nerdy, but he also seemed pretty sweet and was cute. Especially his eyes. The brightest blue she'd ever seen, even brighter than Danny's. "Thanks again for it."

"No problem," he mumbled, biting his bottom lip slightly and fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. He didn't look at her, but instead his hands. She still caught glimpses of his eyes. "Tristan Thomason's Twisted Tales huh?"

"Hmm?" Jazz was forced to snap out of her staring. "Oh, yeah. A friend gave that to me to read. She's a big fan of the writing, but thinks the author's kind of stupid for getting some things wrong."

"Do you like it?" he asked, scooting a little bit forward in interest.

"Haven't read it yet," she admitted. "Been kind of busy with the whole freshman year of college thing…so…yeah…you like it?"

"I wrote it," Tristan admitted a bit quietly, shrugging his shoulder slightly as he picked up his book and flipped through the pages.

"You wrote that?" she asked in amazement, raising an eyebrow. He just nodded. "That's so cool! I'll be sure to read it and let you know what I think."

"I don't think we'll be seeing each other much, with me being a Senior and you're a Freshman," he said with a small smile. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Do you have a phone?" she asked. Tristan nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket due to habit. Jazz took it and began to mess with it for a quick moment before pulling out her own phone. After a moment, she handed it back. "There, I put my number in. I'm Jazz, by the way."

"I already know," he said. He immediately froze. Was that creepy? That he already knew her name? He quickly added, "The Starbucks thing."

"Oh yeah," she said, smiling as she stood up. She managed to shove the text book into the already crowded bag before putting it on her shoulder again. She took the book from Tristan before picking up her coffee cup. "If I don't call you later today, call me tomorrow. I'm a fast reader. I'll most likely be finished with it."

Tristan just nodded silently. She gave a half wave with the Starbucks hand before turning around and jogging slightly to a class. Tristan just bit his lip a bit nervously before standing up. He opened his phone and glanced into the contacts under J. Jazz's number was programmed in there as she said. He closed his phone and put it back in his pocket before slinging his backpack over his shoulders and walking home.

Jazz stared at the textbook that was propped up with her knees as she leaned more into the pillows. She was getting tired, the black words blending together and the pictures becoming a tad fuzzy. Her eyes were beginning to drop. Glancing at the clock, she scowled slightly. It was only seven in the evening! Why was she so tired? She remembered countless times she spent almost all night studying, sometimes managing to go two days without a moment of sleep thanks to coffee and Red Bull.

A slight vibration along with the soft classical music of Mozart filled the small dorm room. Jazz shifted her position to take out her cell phone and glanced at the caller ID. She smiled as her heart pumped a bit faster in excitement, some butterflies making their way to her stomach as she answered the call.

"Hey," she said into the phone, using her shoulder to prop it as she closed the textbook. Sitting up, she set it in front of her before crossing her legs and holding it to her ear.

"You sound sleepy. Did I wake you up?" the voice asked. Jazz blushed slightly at the words. "I can call back at another time."

"I am sleepy, but I wasn't napping," she replied, smiling to herself. "Don't worry about it, Tristan." A death glare was sent when her roommate rose her eyebrow knowingly. The response was a giggle, the word "Lovebirds" before her attention was focused back onto her textbook, a few giggles still escaping. Jazz ignored her.

"Oh good. I was scared I woke you up," Tristan responded, a small sigh of relief escaping him. Jazz thought it was adorable how he was concerned that he woke her up. "Anyway, did you read the book?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah! I loved it," she said as she got up. She grabbed her dorm room key before walking out the escape the giggles and soft teases of her roommate. She walked down the hall, wondering if the small coffee shop down the corner was still open. "It was so well-written, deep, really personal. The originality was fantastic. I couldn't put it down."

"I'm glad you liked it," he said, sounding a bit shy. Jazz smiled to herself.

"I loved it," she corrected. "In fact, if you don't mind…wanna talk about it over a lunch date tomorrow?"

"Date? Uh…I'm not sure…"

"What?" Jazz asked with a small frown. "Do you not like me?"

"Wha-? Oh! It's not that…just…you know…nevermind. Sure," he replied. "How about we meet at eleven-thirty?"

"Sounds great."

"I'll see you there." He hung up and Jazz began to get ready. True, she had a psychology class at 9, but it ended in more than enough time to meet him.

She wasn't paying as much attention as she usually did, her mind preoccupied with the coming meeting. Jazz knew Tristan to some extent, but they had never talked that much before. She generally saw him in the library, wearing a grey or black shirt and shorts, even when it was freezing outside.

After what seemed like forever the class ended and she almost rushed out of the door to get ready for her... did it qualify as a date? "Maybe; why would I be this nervous otherwise?" she asked herself. She entered her dorm room and gave a sigh of relief. Her roommate had a class right now, or she'd be teased mercilessly. After snooping around the room, she came across a nice t-shirt with shorts. She glanced in the mirror, briefly wondered if she should put on a small touch of make-up. After a small internal debate, she put on a small touch of eye shadow and put her hair in a low ponytail. Before she left for college, she cut it to a more grown-up shoulder length style.

After this, she rushed to make sure she was there on time. Jazz arrived at the nearby restaurant. She glanced around inside from the window and around before sighing in relief. She wasn't late. Now to wait for Tristan to arrive. Once her eyes spotted him, she waved in greeting and to let him know she was there. He was wearing his usual attire, but it was fine with her. Tristan was around 5'10, a few inches taller than she was. He had some weight on him, but it was obvious he had some muscle behind it.

"It's good to see you." Tristan remarked, looking at her. He extended his hand as a gesture. He considered telling her she looked attractive, but thought better of it. No need to scare her off just yet.

"Thanks; you too." Jazz decided to take his hand. She wanted to hug him, but didn't want to appear too forward. They walked inside the restaurant where Tristan found a table. "I think you're supposed to wait for them to escort you here."

"Don't worry; they know me here." Tristan shrugged as he sat down. Hopefully, he had enough money with him for this. He ordered a large plate of fries and a diet pepsi with no ice. Jazz asked for soup and a chicken salad with a Sprite. They waited around 10 minutes for their food to arrive, neither of them saying much.

The instant Tristan got his fries, he started pouring salt and pepper on them. Jazz raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. He picked up a fork, but wasn't very good at using it.

"You must like fries a lot," Jazz commented as they ate. Tristan just smiled slightly and shrugged as he popped a fry into his mouth. "When did you start writing?"

"Seven," he replied a bit quietly. It was nerve-racking. He wasn't sure about Jazz, but he hadn't been on a date in a while. He could feel himself start to sweat a little in nervousness. What if he said something wrong and she ended up hating him? Not the first time that happened. What if this was a date purely to laugh at him later with her friends or worse, a pity date? Should he continue the subject? Would doing that make him seem self-centered? Should he change it to something else? To what? Something about her? What should he ask? Something about her family? What if that led to a discussion about his family? Should he ask where she was from? Would that make him sound like a stalker? He didn't want to risk being put in jail. Tristan felt his heart race and struggled to calm it.

"I'm impressed; I don't know anyone who started writing that early." She remarked. He was obviously an intelligent person, maybe someone to match her.

Thankfully, he didn't have to think of something to ask her, because once she finished chewing, she asked him another question.

"Do you like your roommate?" Jazz asked him, taking another bite of salad.

"I don't have one. I live with my stepfather and mom," he replied, nibbling on more fries. "What about you?"

"I have a roommate, but she likes to tease me," Jazz admitted.

"What about?" he asked. He decided that it was easier to keep the conversation on her.

"She likes to tease about us," she replied as she took another bite. He froze. Were rumors going around about them? Did people think he was abusing or mistreating her? They weren't even a couple! Were they? They were on a date, so did they mean they were boyfriend-girlfriend? People have dated without becoming girlfriend-boyfriend, but was Jazz one of those people? Did she consider them a couple? Was this even a romantic date or a casual, friendly one? Should he ask her? Would she get upset? Was she that type?

"What about us?" he asked, almost scared of the answer. He didn't need more people accusing him of crimes. This was like high school all over again, except he could be tried as an adult now and he was so close to graduating that he could lose his degree before he even got it.

"She thinks we're a couple," she shrugged as she continued to eat calmly as Tristan was on the verge of a panic attack. Did that mean she didn't view them as a couple? Did he even want to be her boyfriend? She was pretty and smart, but so were his other girlfriends.

Jazz smiled at him, noticing that he seemed nervous. She shrugged it off as it being his first date in a while. There was something special about him. His eyes were so enchanting, being a beautiful shade of blue. They expressed every emotion strongly, shining slightly when he gave the rare smile and the way they seemed distance when he seemed to be spaced out.

"Why does she think that?" He grabbed two more fries with his fork and gulped them down. His plate was only half full now. It had been around 3 years since he had dated anyone, and he hoped this wouldn't end the same way.

"Oh, my roommate always does that to me. I've mentioned you to her."

"And what did you say?" Tristan tried to keep his voice casual.

"I told her you were smart and that I had seen you around the college." Jazz also let slip that she thought Tristan was quite handsome although for some reason, she couldn't say that.

"I'm not as smart at you. Take a look at your grades. I'm surprised you're not studying at a place like Harvard."

"I probably could have gone, but I wanted to stay near Amity. Besides, I'd miss my family." Actually, she stayed close so Danny would be able to rely on her without her being hundreds of miles away. His powers had grown considerably, but she didn't feel comfortable leaving him by himself. With her parents, who knew what they'd end up accidently doing.

"Any siblings?"

"Yes, I have a little brother. His name's Danny. He just turned sixteen about four months ago. He can be a pain sometimes, but I still love him. How about you?"

"I have a little sister. She's about your age, maybe a month younger."

"Do you get along?"

"I suppose; you?" Tristan felt uncomfortable talking about his family, so he changed the subject.

"We generally get along pretty well."

"Well, my book seems to be fairly popular. Okay, it's a collection of short stories, but never mind that. How did you learn about it?"

"One of my brother's best friends, who's kind of my friend too, told me about it." Sam had read the book and while she admitted it was well written, she accused him of distorting the facts.

"I know there's some controversy over it. Well, they can burn my book for all I care, as long as they buy it first." He gave a small smile at that. Jazz giggled slightly as she picked at her salad.

He looks wonderful when he smiles. Why doesn't he do it more often? Jazz thought to herself, looking into his blue eyes again. "I'm sure people don't hate it that much. How long have you wanted to become an author?"

"Since I was about 13; I wrote my first novel then." It surprised Tristan that she was interested in what he had to say, especially about his writing. "I'm hoping to become a best-seller one day."

"Keep it up and I'm sure you will." Some of his stories frightened her, especially one of them. It centered about a battered wife who ultimately killed her husband and children before committing suicide. Still, she saw a message in it and he had a valid point.

"Thanks; maybe one day I'll manage it. Your interest is in psychology, right? Is it just an interest or do you hope to become a therapist?"

"The latter; I helped counsel students when I was still at Casper High."

"I once considered it, but I can't read people to save my life, so I needed to find something else." By this point, they had almost finished with their food. "I'm working on becoming a paralegal."

"So you're going to law?"

"Yes, but I haven't decided which specific field to enter. However, one thing I know I don't want to go into is family law; too vicious for my liking."

"Wish you luck; so what are your interests?" She looked at the bill they were given.

"Besides writing, I waste my time on the computer. I listen to a few things and talk to a couple people online. I look up various things that catch my interest." Not sure if you'd react well to what I research, though, Tristan thought.

"You must have done research with those stories of yours. I was impressed by them."

"Yeah, but researching them was just a bundle of laughs, I can tell you that. Still, I wanted to write a good and accurate story." He looked down at the bill; it was 15.12. "2.27."

"What?"

"That's going to be the tip; 2.27."

"How did you do that so fast?" Seemed like Tristan was even smarter than she thought. Even Jazz couldn't have done it in her head that quickly.

"I don't know, but I guess I can do that." He shrugged, not used to being praised. They got their things together, as Tristan got a to-go cup of soda and they walked out the door.

"I have to say, I really had fun."

"Me too; it's been a while since I hung out with someone outside school." It had been years, but he didn't want to point that out.

"I hope we can do this again soon." With others, Jazz would have waited for them to ask, but she doubted Tristan would do so. She saw another rare smile on his face; he really needed to do that more often.

"I'll call you." It would have to be soon, though. Tristan didn't want to forget, especially since she seemed to be a kind girl. He was still nervous, but not quite as much as before. He wanted to take her into his arms, but refrained.

Jazz gave him a quick hug and walked back to the college, a giant grin on her face the whole trip.

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