I own nothing! Sorry about the lateness of this update. I was having trouble finding inspiration for this chapter!

She squeezes her eyes shut. She pretends she isn't about to cry. She retreats down the stairs and doesn't eat the apples. She doesn't feel like it anymore. She allows herself to cry after she retreats to her own room, but only then. She cries herself out and closes both eyes at last, drifting into an uneasy sleep.

Chapter 3: Determined

She will not give up, Jazzy decides as she wakens the following morning, prepares herself for school, and enters the bus. Her stomach growls softly, disturbing her thoughts. She has had no breakfast. She has no lunch money, either. Her parents didn't leave the money out today, and she doesn't want them in a bad mood because Danny is at home alone with them. She doesn't want him hurt.

She walks into school, listens to the whispers. It's a habit. She knows it's bad to eavesdrop, but it has kept her safe in the past. It helps her predict moods. She makes it to class early today, determined to avoid repeating yesterday. There will be only one more day of school this week, since it's Thursday. She wishes school would never end. If school never ended, she'd never have to go home.

Classes are still boring-something nearly everyone say, something she can sympathize with them on. She is better at listening, though, than they are. Her life with her parents has taught her to sit still and listen well. She doesn't take notes like she's heard older students have to. She can usually memorize almost everything her teachers say word-for-word. Danny is pretty good at that, too.

Jazzy takes another test and gets another A. Tomorrow there will be a history test, for which the pop quiz of the previous day was preparation. She studies hard. If she gets an A on this one, the grade won't show up on her report card. Hopefully. Since Danny was in the hospital, she'd made several Bs. Each B is a cause of panic. The report card will be sent home with her on this Friday. She focuses so hard that lunch arrives before she's ready.

Lunch is always the best part of the school day, when she brings money for it. She walks to her special table. Nobody sits there. It's just the way she likes it. She's heard about friends, and about what happens when they stop liking you. She's glad she doesn't have any, or at least that's what she tells herself. She hasn't got any money so she sits at her table and studies. Her stomach growls at the smells from the cafeteria's line. Spaghetti. She forces herself not to look up.

In 1776, on July 4, the Declaration of Independence was signed.

She tries to focus on the words in the book so hard that she doesn't see the teacher who bumps against her table. She just notices that the table jiggles, before returning to her study. Then, words interrupt her thoughts.

"Jasmine?"

Jazzy glances up, confused and anxious. Has she done something wrong? She notes who addresses her: her history teacher, Miss Walker. Her teacher wears a smile, but so does Daddy when he punishes them sometimes. It isn't a mean smile though, so Jazzy decides it's safe to respond. "Yes, ma'am?" Ever polite, her tone sometimes comes off almost icy.

"Where's your lunch?" Miss Walker is kind, and her stance expresses concern. Jazzy relaxes yet further, and offers a smile back. There's no indication of danger.

"I didn't bring any," she responds.

Her teacher sits beside her and says something Jazzy doesn't expect. "Did you eat anything for breakfast?" She opens her pocketbook as she says this.

"No, ma'am. I didn't wake up soon enough." Jazzy responds quietly, studying her hands with anxiety. She can't think of anything she did to get this much attention. She bites her lip, a nervous habit she's developed.

"Here," Miss Walker says, handing her a few dollars. Jazzy stares at the money, confused. "You can use this for lunch money."

"I shouldn't, ma'am. It's your money." She wants the money, and is already thinking of the food she could get, but tries to ignore the images of warm spaghetti out of her head.

"You need lunch if you want to make good grades, Jasmine. Besides, it's my gift to you for being such a good student." Her teacher smiles again, and forces Jazzy to hold the bills.

"A gift? But I didn't make a good grade yesterday," Jazzy responds. She hasn't done anything to deserve it, and she wonders if she has to do anything to keep the money.

"Yesterday doesn't matter, Jasmine. All people make mistakes. Besides, you're less loud in the classroom than several of your classmates."

Finally, Jazzy responds to the reassurance, and clamps her hands around the money. "Thank you, ma'am," she murmurs, and quietly leaves the table, casting a short glance over her shoulder as she anxiously moves towards the line of students waiting for food. It isn't a big line, since almost everyone's got their plates now.

She gets spaghetti, milk, salad, and bread. It smells delicious, and she feels guilty that Danny can't get any until he starts school. Then she finds herself worrying about how she'll make sure he gets food. She'll need to make sure he has money, and that he knows how to use it to get food. She wanders into a daze thinking about it. She manages to weave her way back to her table even while she thinks hard, before her teacher's laughter reaches her.

"I was wondering if you'd manage to stop before you hit the table," Miss Walker says, snorting at her confused expression. As Jazzy settles at the table, she adds, "That's a nice lunch. I always liked spaghetti."

"Do you want some?" Jazzy asks anxiously, chewing her lip again. She doesn't want to share, but if an adult says she has to, she will.

"Oh, no. I was just thinking that it looked good. I already had lunch," her teacher says.

"Oh." Jazzy doesn't say anything for a while. She just wants to eat so she'll be ready for her next class. Finally she says, "Thanks for the money. I was hungry."

"Don't worry. You look too thin, anyway. If you want to, you can come home with me and I'll give you some supper." Miss Walker extends an invitation.

"Why?" Jazzy's parents never just offer things.

"Remember that book series you told me you wanted to read? The Chronicles of Narnia? I checked at the library yesterday and they said they didn't have the first book, so I thought you might want to come home with me to read it. I'm afraid I can't let you borrow it, though. Remember the last book?"

Jazzy shivers. One of the books Miss Walker let her borrow got hit with an experiment, and was never the same again. Miss Walker said she didn't want any more of her books falling prey to various experiments. Amazingly, she wasn't punished. "Sure. I'd be happy to come," she says. "Can I bring my brother?"

"Yes, if your parents say so."

It's the end of their conversation, and Jazzy walks to her next class with a bounce in her step, happy to have a free, hot meal and to be able to bring her brother. They'll be full tonight. She won't ask her parents. They'd say no just because they can, and she won't let her brother go hungry today.

…

Jazzy makes it back home on the bus and darts up the stairs, where she does a little studying and writes a note for Danny. She hopes he likes notes better than her talking. The note reads:

Wont to come eet at my teachers house tonit? The food wil be good. I no there is not much food in the house so plese come eet. I wont talk to yu if yu do nott wont me too, oka? Say yes pleze!

-Jazzy

She crosses her fingers and pushes the paper through the crack at the bottom of the door. She waits a while beside the door, hoping for a response. Nothing comes. She sighs and stands up, going to change her clothes. She doesn't know what her teacher will say if she doesn't come. She wants to come, but a part of her whispers that she shouldn't, since Danny won't go.

She steels herself to leave and grabs a little tin foil while she prepares herself. She can bring food home to Danny, she decides. She can hear the car drive up outside, and she starts to walk back down the hall to fetch herself some shoes, but notices something.

A slip of white paper lies under Danny's door. She picks it up. It says:

Ys

D

In scrawling, sprawling writing that takes up most of the note paper on the back of her note. She smiles a little, and knocks on the door. Slowly, the knob turns and she manages a little smile as her brother exits his room. His hair is mussed badly, and she wonders how long it's been since he had it fixed. She pushes him back into his room with a little grin and sets to work, hoping Miss Walker has patience. A few combs and a change of clothes (and shoes) are all it takes to make him presentable.

Just as the doorbell rings loudly from the hallway, making the siblings cringe, they finish. They haven't said a word yet. She waits for permission, unsure about what to do. A sprint-for her, anyway-down the steps is all it takes to arrive before anyone else can. She knows that her parents aren't here again, but she still worries. They walk outside and settle into the car.

"Did your parents give you permission, Jasmine?" Miss Walker asks.

"Yes, ma'am." She hopes her teacher won't catch the lie.

"So this is your brother? It's good to meet you, Daniel." Miss Walker offers a light-up-the-world smile.

Danny says nothing, so Jazzy offers an excuse. "He isn't talking right now, Miss Walker. He doesn't want to. I made him angry." She twitches a little, but avoids saying more than necessary.

"I can understand that, Jasmine. I used to have something of a feud with my older brother and we didn't speak to each other. Are you alright? Outside of the classroom you may call me Ellie, if you wish. It's short for Eleanor." Her teacher's way of speaking is enough to put the siblings at ease instantly.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for offering to drive us to your house." Jazzy is careful to be polite, and her teacher clearly enjoys her manners.

Miss Walker turns on the radio and lets them listen to a cool music station with classical music. She encourages them to try to hum the tune and predict the next note. Danny still stays silent, but bounces lightly in his seat to the rhythm. Jazzy allows herself to hum, though. The freedom to make noise is fun, and she begs Miss Walker to not turn off the radio until they drive up in her yard.

The siblings slip out of the car and Jazzy feels a smidgen of joy as Danny clamps his hand tight around her own when they enter. The house is…different. Whereas FentonWorks has a cold, impersonal atmosphere, this house is filled with rugs and pictures. A smell drifts through the house, a smell identifiable as food.

They walk to the kitchen, Miss Walker talking about her previous classes with children. As they enter, the smell becomes stronger, and their stomachs growl. Danny edges behind Jazzy as though the smell is pulling him forward and he must hold on to something to avoid being dragged towards it. It takes a bit but Miss Walker prepares the siblings' plates, filling them with food that looks so good it makes their mouths water. There are beans, a slice of whole wheat bread, and an orange for each of them.

They focus on the food to the point that they stop talking altogether. The siblings are filled quickly. Years of being underfed much of the time have shrunken their stomachs. They even get chocolate, a rare delicacy around their house. All-in-all, they are left content. The meal loosens Danny's tongue and he talks. Not much, of course, but some. A thank-you and a few yums express his happiness. He falls asleep at the table, a faint smile Jazzy hasn't seen in ages settling across his face.

Finally, Miss Walker gets up and goes to fetch The Magician's Nephew. Jazzy follows her into the living room, where bookshelf upon bookshelf have what appear to be tons of books, to the point that some shelves bend a little under the weight. It takes a while for Miss Walker to locate the book, but she finally does. Jazzy settles in a chair and starts to read the book as Miss Walker continues to find books.

Miss Walker interrupts her reading with words. "To tell the truth, Jasmine, I didn't ask you to come here because I wanted you to read your book here."

The words startle Jazzy, who stares at her teacher. Her teacher who told her a lie.

"I really wanted you here as a surprise. At the end of this semester I'm getting married and going on a honeymoon. I won't go back to teaching for a while. I wanted to give you some things, since you're my best student." Jazzy glows with pride at those words. "Here! You can have the entire set."

A pile of books is set in front of Jazzy, who gapes at the titles. The book titles are The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe; The Horse and his Boy; Prince Caspian; The Voyage of the Dawn Treader; The Silver Chair; and The Last Battle. In combination with the book she has, The Magician's Nephew, it makes the complete set of the Chronicles of Narnia. She gasps, turns around, and shows an unusual display of emotion. A hug. She buries her head in her teacher's blouse and says, "Thank you! Thank you so much! Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Just try not to destroy them, Jasmine." Arms surround her in a kind embrace and she relaxes completely. She doesn't cry, but she feels like it.

"Why do you have to go? You're my favorite teacher!"

"Because I want to, Jasmine. My husband and I can't teach more children when I have some, but maybe someday I'll come back and teach you again." Miss Walker pats Jazzy on the back, soothing her.

Finally they part, Jasmine feeling awkward. She never displays that much emotion for anyone except Danny. They walk back to the kitchen and Miss Walker picks up Danny, who doesn't stir at all. They go to Miss Walker's car and set off for FentonWorks. Jazzy decides she wants to grow up to be like Miss Walker.

She falls asleep on the ride back, and is woken with a slight shake that rips her out of sleep with terror, half-expecting to see one of her parents smirking as she struggles to her feet, but instead sees Miss Walker, who ushers her out of the car and takes Danny to her room. Jazzy curls up on the floor nearby and goes back to sleep, mind untroubled for now.

Like it? Hate it? Review it, please! How do you like Miss Walker? I didn't know how much dialogue to put in, so there really wasn't any Danny dialogue. He's still trying to not talk. The misspelling in the notes was intentional. I figure that even if Jazzy is a brilliant seven year old, she still won't be able to spell with absolute inerrancy. I know I couldn't, and I was only just beginning to read quickly. Danny's spelling is even worse than Jazzy's. Remember that you can suggest things! Once again, though, I may not use them.

To Lexosaurus: I have no idea when detention starts being given as punishment. Do you know what sort of punishment was common at that age?

To AwesomeAuthor13: It is unlikely that Vlad will adopt them because I usually consider him the villain in Danny Phantom stories. Thanks for the suggestion, though! I haven't written any Good!Vlad fics, though I do have one in which he fakes being good.

-MiaulinK