I do not own Danny Phantom. Thanks to daniphantom149 for the suggestion!
Hippie Danny
Sam glanced at the construction workers that passed her in the hallway with dusty sweaters and plaster-covered jeans. "Looks like they fixed the hole in the gym."
"That must have cost a bucket load." Tucker tapped out the calculations on his P.D.A. "Ah, man. That money could have been used to buy more technologically advanced computers!"
His female friend rolled her eyes. "The school didn't even pay for it, doof. Danny had to. His parents were ticked."
"Oh. Well, then where's my fancy computer system?"
"They're going to horde that money to pay for the damages that will inevitably occur when Danny and one of his many enemies have a battle through these halls."
"True that."
Sam stuffed her purple binder in her spider backpack. The halls were close to empty and the bell was about to ring any minute. "Come on. I want to see Lancer's face when Danny comes in today."
Tucker snickered. "I got my P.D.A powered up and ready to go. The Internet is a beautiful thing."
They entered the dully lit classroom and sat down in their respective desks. Sam propped her black boots on her desk and kept her eyes locked on the classroom door. Tucker watched the paper airplanes sail through the air idly.
"Wanna guess?"
Sam pursed her lips. "Surfer dude."
"Ooh. Nice one. I'm going to go with race car driver."
She laughed. "Alright, if he comes in dressed as a racer, I'll give you twenty bucks. But if he comes in as a surfer, you give me twenty bucks."
"Deal!"
They immediately snapped to attention when the oak door creaked open.
There was only a second of silence before the class howled with hysterics. Sam cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Going retro, are we?"
"I think it's the sixties," Tucker snickered and filmed Danny's latest outfit with his beloved P.D.A. "So much for our bet."
Danny's hair was in its naturally messy state. A long white tee stretched over baggy, ripped jeans. Faux leather bracelets were stacked on each wrist and a gold peace medallion hung from his neck. Sam glanced at his bare feet. "He is most definitely getting at least one disease today. Who knows what's covering these floors?"
Lancer blinked, thinking along the same lines as the Goth girl. "Mr. Fenton, where are your shoes?"
"Shoes are made by the man. I like to feel the texture beneath my feet and be one with the world."
Lancer shook his head in irritation. "Fine, fine. Just sit down so we can get started!"
Danny shuffled lazily to his desk. Tucker snapped a quick picture and pocketed his P.D.A. Lancer continued the lesson and Danny stared out the window with a creepy, spaced out look on his face.
"What's with his face?" whispered Tucker.
"I think he's trying to find himself," the Goth girl answered. "Or he could be completely crazy."
"Wouldn't doubt it."
The two fell silent and listened to Lancer's lecture, which was as boring as ever. Sam could feel her eyes start to droop. She rested her head against her desk and tried to pay attention, knowing that sooner or later they would be having a test.
But it was no good. Ten minutes later, she was snoozing away contentedly, with Tucker staring at her in amusement.
RING!
Sam jolted forwards and snapped her head up. Everyone was hurrying out the door and towards their next class. She rubbed her tired violet eyes and glanced at Lancer. He was so engrossed in his lecture he didn't even notice that one of his students had fallen asleep.
"Sleep well?" teased Tucker.
"I did, actually. Thanks."
The trio made their way into the hall and ran into Dash. He sneered at them. "Watch where you're going, losers! Hey, Fenturd, you look like a freak in jewellery."
"Lay off, Dash," Sam snapped.
"Now, my friends. Let us not fight. We must be in unity with each other, make peace, and not war," Danny soothed.
Sam arched an eyebrow and glanced at Tucker. He shook his head in response. Dash, who had quite a dense mind, did not know what unity meant, and thus decided it was an insult.
He grabbed Danny by the neck of his shirt and dragged him into the boy's washroom. Tucker ran to help but backed off when Kwan guarded the swinging door. Sam leaned against the wall and sighed. "This will end well," she muttered sarcastically.
"Are you going to help?" Tucker asked. "I know you can take Kwan."
Sam gestured to the security cameras that were placed around the halls. "If I punch Dash one more time I get suspended. My parents will kill me. Not that I care. But I so do not want another restraining order put in place by my ignorant father."
"Ah. Leaving him to his own devices, then?"
"Yup."
Behind the bathroom door, Dash shoved Danny's head into the toilet repeatedly until the boy was purple in the face and choking. "Let that be a lesson, Fent-loser. Don't ever talk to me like that again!"
"What'd I say?" Danny croaked. But Dash had already left, leaving behind a dripping Danny. He shuffled out with a forlorn sigh. "Violence is such a petty thing."
"Why did you think a hippie was cool?" Sam asked when her friend emerged, drenched.
"Well, it was cool in the sixties. I thought with retro making a comeback, this would be cool."
"Not exactly. Remind me to get Dash a dictionary." Sam stared at Danny's neck. "Where's your peace medallion?"
Danny's hands flew up to his bare neck. He paled and stormed back into the bathroom.
A second later an anguished scream tore through the halls and Sam shook her head. "I have a feeling he took his dad's medallion without asking."
"Most likely. Flushed down the toilet?" Tucker asked.
"Yup."
"Solid gold medallion?"
"Probably."
"He is in so much trouble." Tucker snorted and grinned. "I better go comfort him before he drowns himself in the toilet. I'll meet you in class."
Sam pounded her chest and then held up two fingers. "Peace out, man."
