So Sam and Tucker couldn't handle another cross-country trip. That was okay. It wasn't like they didn't go where they were planning to anyway, it just kind of… hurt. Knowing he wasn't going to get his nice, relaxing trip across the country with his two best friends. Emphasis on nice and relaxing. The version they got was neither.
Danny landed on the front porch and checked both ways down the street before detransforming; the last thing he needed was someone finding out the truth after he literally rewrote time to conceal it. He sat down on the stoop, resting his chin in his hands.
Okay, yeah, this sucked. It hurt. And he was a little angry about it.
Maybe Jazz could talk to him when she got back from car shopping. Apparently, something about the ordeal made her decide to trade in her car for something else. She didn't say what, but knowing her, it would probably be a minivan or something equally practical…
Or a cherry red sportscar.
Danny raised an eyebrow as Jazz turned the corner and stopped in front of their house. The passenger side window rolled down, and she leaned over, calling out to him, "Get in loser, we're going to Roswell."
A laugh bubbled up from him; he couldn't help it. He got to his feet and walked over to the car, opening the door and ducking inside. "Did you just quote Mean Girls?"
Jazz just smirked and reached up, fiddling with something on the roof of the car. Then, she sat back down, pushed a button on the console, and the roof pulled back, revealing the car to be a convertible.
"Oh. My. God." If Danny wasn't already sitting down, he'd be on the floor laughing. "You got a convertible?" he asked. "Who are you and what have you done with my sister?"
"Yeah, yeah, can it, you," she replied, giving him a light shove. "I figured life's short, okay? And when you texted me about Sam and Tucker cancelling, I figured when door closes, another opens."
Danny smiled. "Thanks, Jazz."
"Don't mention it."