Hey, so I still write Transformers FanFictions, but this came to me one day and I HAD to write it! Please read and review!
I do not own Danny Phantom.
Bright blue eyes scanned a piece of college ruled notebook paper through a sleek, midnight black curtain. The teen's forest of thick hair usually fell over his crystal eyes anyway, but today it was quite disheveled, impairing his vision more than usual. A lone cowlick stood upright on the top of his scalp, so utterly obvious in contrast to the rest of his hair that clung to the sweat on his neck.
When he came tumbling through the classroom door this morning, 2 hours late might I add, everyone just assumed he woke up late, again, and ran to school. As summer was approaching, the temperature was also rising, so no one questioned his unusually large amount of sweat that made him seem to shimmer, not that his teachers and peers truly noticed or cared, but he knew this already.
Young Daniel "Danny" Fenton had been part of the outcast crowd for a long time, but since "incident" it finally gave him the upper hand. Nobody went looking for him during a ghost attack. Nobody gave him enough time of day to see him "Go Ghost." No one even bat an eye when he came back bruised. Despite the obvious similarities between him and Phantom, being the same person, the general public certainly would never be able to fathom the idea that he was the ghost boy. InvisoBill was cool, and had awesome ghost powers, therefore he definitely couldn't be the loser Fenton kid. Nothing a Fenton did was successful, or at least it seemed everyone thought this way, everyone except Sam and Tucker.
So Danny took his seat in the back of class as usual, looking over the paper he would need to take notes on. The paper was already full of notes and writing, stray marks and eraser smears, but none of that had anything to do with the lecture his teacher was giving on graphing polynomials. No, it was too late for that. He was already three classes behind and understood none of the lingo his snobby Algebra Two teacher was speaking. Another half day's worth of notes would not help him now, but would instead only confuse him more. Maybe he could have Sam help him later, she was good at math, at the same time she was good at everything, especially being unique.
Sam….Danny looked down at the "notes" he had taken. All of them were doodles of ghosts, weapons, and his friends, particularly Sam. Sometimes she was the only thing that reminded him he was human. She kept him tied to Earth, and everything about their relationship contradicted what his parents believed about the way ghosts thought. Love, dare he say, was not something they believed a ball of ectoplasmic scum was capable of, so that must prove something, right? He couldn't just be a ghost if this was true, for every time Sam brushed against him, his heart skipped a beat and then pumped warm blood and hormones throughout his body, making his face go red.
Looking back down at the notebook sheet he took note on how the front side was covered with poorly drawn trees. This was due to the fact that whenever he thought of her, he thought of trees, happiness, nature, and though he would never admit it, Fenton also thought about her moist lips, perfectly parted and gently painted with purple lipstick that brought out the color of her beautiful amethyst eyes that spoke more than her words. Through her shining orbs of vision Danny could tell she genuinely saw him as a superhero, like Superman, even though time and time again had he tried to convince her otherwise, but she was stubborn. This, however, was not a negative quality, quite the opposite actually. Danny adored her quirkiness; it was an admired quality in the Fenton family.
A twinkle appeared in the drained, bloodshot eyes of the young boy. Flipping over his paper, his calloused hand reached for his short and chewed up pencil. Chewing pencils was a nervous habit he had, but when asked he always blamed it on Cujo. Like coffee, an idea sparked in this head that filled him with life, or at least it would entertain him for the next 62 minutes of class.
With Pencil in hand, he pressed the sharpened piece of graphite down on the paper, making intricate swerves and curves.
Sam, sitting a few rows over, eyed Danny suspiciously. By the goofy smile plastered on his face, the Goth could tell that whatever he was writing obviously had nothing to do with mathematical formulas. As a matter of fact, he seemed almost too happy for a boy with electrical marks burned into his arms, hinting that there was a ferocious and unexpected fight with Technus. Half of her felt guilty that she could not have been there to help, though she knew he would claim it was for the best. I would never forgive myself if you ever got hurt because of me his voice echoed through her mind, though little did he know that she felt the same way about him getting hurt. The other half of her, however, was filled with thoughts and emotions that should not be possible for a Goth to have. She could not keep the image of Danny grinning, lost in his own world, from plaguing her mind. 'Was I in that little world of his too? Did he still have ghost powers? Was he smiling because he was imagining being on a picnic with that weasel he calls Paulina or because he was thinking about flying around with me in his arms?'
She looked down at her own paper, she too ignoring the lesson. Not that it mattered to her, she had already learned the information, knowing with her ghost fighting that she would need to get ahead of the class with studying in case she had to "leave early". Graphing polynomials was a breeze anyway. Currently, her math book was only out to trick the teacher into thinking she was paying attention. Her doodle notebook was where her focus was. Inside were pages of doodles solely of Danny fighting ghost and his DP symbol.
The teen sighed, circling a logo. As hard as she tried, Sam Manson just could not mask her feelings for Danny and it drove her insane. Why did his snow white hair have to sail perfectly around his face when he flew? How come his deep ocean blue eyes could always read her like a book? Why did he always have to be the hero? It was so attractive.
Thankfully for her, however, Danny was clueless. Tucker saw right through her charade, despite his own failure to read the emotions of other females, but Danny did not pay enough attention to details like the techno-geek. The halfa was oblivious to the way she watched and studied him, in both ghost and human form.
After a painstaking class, the bell was only minutes away from ringing and releasing the high school students to lunch.
Danny looked proudly down at his paper. Centered in the middle the words "Sam Fenton" were written largely in luscious cursive. A green ectoplasmic looking heart surrounded the name and there were black roses falling off pieces of some letters. Despite the coloring, however, one could still see the erased "Samantha Fenton". Danny was going to write her full name out, but reconsidered. He figured that if she ever saw this doodle it would be best that she not see her real name, because if the fact that he loved her didn't piss her off, that certainly would.
Just then the bell rang. Everyone got up from their seats except for the young Danny Fenton, still staring at his masterpiece. He didn't even hear the bell, not realizing class was over until he saw the girl of his thoughts come walking his way.
In a wave of panic he suddenly snatched the paper and crumpled it up into a ball.
"Yet another hour of hard work ruined," he grumbled between clenched teeth wedged into a nervous smile, further packing the paper into his large hands.
"Hey," Sam said upon finally reaching his desk. "Whatcha got there?"
"Oh this?" He asked nervously, gesturing to the paper ball while sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just…uh…poorly, half taken notes."
"Oh really?" Sam replied.
The halfa smirked, "Yes, although I could ask you the same question."
Miss Manson looked down at her hand defensively. It held a torn page from her doodle book, the one she was working on earlier, only for the product to come out too unsatisfactory to keep with her others. "Oh, Chemistry homework, although I don't like the way it turned out."
Both teens knew the other way lying about what their papers contained, but neither wanted to ask the other to spill, since they would have to admit the truth behind their own if they did so. Instead the pair shrugged and threw their papers into the overflowing blue recycle bin next to the door.
Danny looked behind him, "Tuck', you coming?" he questioned his other best friend, Tucker Foley, who was trailing behind in trying to fit his entire tech collection into his small backpack.
"Go onto lunch without me" the black teen called back, "I will be there in a minute."
The ghost and Goth exchanged a look. It was quite unlike Tucker to miss his opportunity to be first in the lunch line, given how much he loved food, especially meat, but they blew it off as nothing. After all, he might adore food, but he cherished his technology more, and would never leave, or go, for that matter, anywhere without every last circuit of it. So they kept walking, arms sliding occasionally on the other's skin as they did given the proximity of closeness in which they walked.
Adjusting his red beret, it wasn't long before the techno-geek had every last bit of this belongings crammed, albeit carefully, into his backpack. As he began a jog towards the exit, Tucker stopped, eyeing the papers in the recycle bin he saw his two best, and arguably only, friends, deposit papers into. Without much of a second thought, he snatched the items up, unfolding the mess of paper, and examined the artwork. He knew all about Sam's crush on Danny already. It was actually pretty obvious, but Danny was your typical clueless teenager boy. Tucker also knew that Sam had been the one to design his trademark logo, so her artwork did not surprise him in the least.
Next, he flattened out Danny's sketch. As the boy's best friend, nothing about the halfa surprised him anymore…well actually since working with ghosts, almost nothing at all took Tuck back, but this…his turquoise eyes traced the lettering of "Sam Fenton" and how much care he put into it. Now this shocked the techno-geek. Sure, he knew of Danny's borderline obsession with the Goth. One would have to be blind not to see the way Sam could make the Great Danny Phantom blush, in both human and ghost form. As a matter of fact, given the cold nature of ectoplasm, ghosts shouldn't even be able to blush, but yet Miss Manson got it out of Phantom.
But still, thinking about having her take his last name…about marriage, heck the kid could hardly decided between what shirt to wear in the morning with his elevated stress levels, and yet he came to the executive decision that he loves Sam! Of all the things he could be thinking about.
Tucker sighed, "My friends are absolutely hopeless."
With a smirk, he crammed the papers deep into his pockets, after all, they may come in handy for blackmail. 'But that could wait until after lunch' he thought, taking off towards the cafeteria.
Whether Danny and Sam were in love or not, the techno-geek was getting meat in his system before next period.