(A/N – here's chapter two! I hope you guys enjoy it! I would also appreciate reviews. I'm still a fairly new writer, so I always want to improve!)

Chapter 2

"What the heck! Will you guys stop blasting every single person that comes to the door!" Danny exclaimed, wiping ectoplasm off his shirt.

"Oh, sorry son! Just trying to keep this family safe!" said a very large man who was probably Danny's dad.

"Let's get you cleaned up sweetie," said the woman standing next to him, his mom. They were both wearing jumpsuits. Is that normal now? I'm guessing not.

"Well who's this? Danny, I didn't know you brought a guest! And a pretty one too! What's your name sweetie?" asked Danny's mom.

"Um, Natalie Knight," I responded. I was a bit intimidated by all this attention since I haven't been around humans for, I dunno, SEVEN YEARS?

"Son, you didn't tell me you had a girlfriend. Is she from school?" Danny's dad asked. Danny made a face.

"She's just a friend, Dad. God," Danny shook his head as he walked through the door.

"It's not like you bring home girls every day sweetie, and she is pretty . . ." his mom said as she walked inside with Danny and his dad, leaving me in the doorway. Not very polite, if I remember correctly. I decided to walk into the house anyway.

" . . . you know I'm dating Sam don't you?" Danny was saying to his dad.

"Oh, I thought you two had broken up," Mrs. Fenton remarked.

"We just had a fight, it's not the end of the world!" Danny exclaimed, with multiple hand motions. Are these people Italian?

"Um, excuse me?" I asked, breaking into the conversation. The whole Fenton family turned to look and me. I bet I went beet red as I asked, "can I use your bathroom?"

Maddie answered. "Oh, down the hall, first door on the left." The family continued talking about Danny and Sam, who I was assuming was Danny's girlfriend.

Once I was in the bathroom, I firmly locked the door behind me and took a good look at a face I hadn't seen in at least six years. I had blue eyes, not as bright as Danny's, but still pretty blue. I also had long blond hair. It wasn't platinum, more like gold. Other than my hair being a bit scraggly and the fact that I had a pimple on my forehead, I looked nice, pretty even. Not gorgeous, just cute.

I turned my attention to my clothing. I was wearing a shirt about three sizes too small for me; it was black with short sleeves and was so tiny most of my stomach was showing. I hoped I didn't look weird to them, and that people that weren't hookers still wore shirts like this. My pants were probably considered capris now; they came up to the middle of my calf. That stuff I didn't really mind, but the bra I was wearing was way too tiny. It felt more like a corset than a bra. My shoes were old and worn, but were actually a bit big for me.

I splashed some water on my face and went out to join the Fentons for dinner, hopefully without becoming intangible and sinking into their basement or something equally ghostly. I heard sounds coming from a room across from the living room, and people eating.

I walked into the French doors, planning on walking right through them, but instead I banged my head on the glass.

"God damn it," I muttered, opening the door. I've gotta start remembering how normal people work. Normal people can't walk through walls, Light.

"You OK?," Danny asked, trying to hide a smile. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Fine," I said.

The room I had walked into was a nice dining room with an oval table and six simple chairs. There was some meat on the table, along with vegetables and some sort of muck that might have been potato salad. Mr. Fenton was at the head of the table, with Mrs. Fenton on his right and Danny on his left. I sat across from who I could only guess was an older sister of Danny's.

"So, how'd you like the bathroom?" Mr. Fenton said while taking a large bite of meat. I gave him a weird look.

"Um . . . good?" I answered, a bit confused.

"Good, good," he said absentmindedly while eating some more.

"Oh, don't mind him, he's just a bit strange," the girl said. "I'm Jazz, Danny's older sister."

"It's OK, I was expecting it. Danny briefed me on the way over," I told Jazz with a small smile. She laughed a bit.

I put a bit of the meat and vegetables on my plate, then reached for my fork so I could dig in. I was so freaken hungry I could eat a ghost pig. And those things are nasty.

I tried to pick up the fork, but my hand became intangible. "Shit," I whispered. I grabbed at it again, but still no cigar. I bit my lip and concentrated on not looking like a ghost freak in front of the ghost freaks.

"Um . . . you OK?" Danny asked as I finally got the fork, my hand then went intangible and it clattered to the floor as I answered an absentminded "yeah."

I reached to pick the fork off the floor but my head collided with Danny's as he tried to do the same.

"Ow!" we both groaned. Danny got the fork and polished it with his napkin before handing it to me.

"Um . . . mind telling me what that was?" he asked. I hope to God he didn't notice that much.

"Sorry, just a klutz," I mumbled. I usually wasn't, at least in ghost form, but humans were so damn klutzy I couldn't help it.

The rest of dinner passed without another ghost power-related incident, and I learned a lot about the Fentons, and about Amity Park.

A ghost boy named Danny Phantom, (God, Danny, why not tattoo "actually Danny Fenton" on your forehead?) had saved the world from an asteroid. Now he was an international celebrity. Casper High's mascot was now a ghost, and their football jerseys (and those letterman jackets) were black and lime green. The whole family acted as if they weren't telling me something, which I'm sure was that their son was this international hero, (although his performance in the Zone was less than impressive).

After dinner, Danny walked me out the door before his parents could say anything weird or embarrassing (or both).

"Well, see ya around . . . or not," I said, already walking away.

"Wait!" Danny called, and he grabbed me by the wrist. I turned around and looked at him, all of this feeling very cliché.

"You can stay here if you want to. I asked my parents, and they said you could because of your insane uncle. You can stay in the guest room and I'll have my friend Sam take you shopping, because I know you haven't had new clothes in years," Danny said. Dang, he's smarter than he looks.

"Listen, I'm not sure if I can . . . my uncle . . ." I looked at him, and noticed something weird. He looked like he cared. Like someone actually cared for me and wanted to help me. To him and his family, I wasn't a science project or a freak, or even a street kid that they took pity on. The look on Danny's face showed absolutely no pity. He was just worried and concerned. Caring.

God damn it.