Pick up your phone. Answer your texts. Come on, Danny!
"Please record your voice message," the automated voice demands. He let it go to voice mail.
"PICK UP THE PHONE! Danny, you know it worries me when you don't answer," I let the message go through. I keep checking my phone every five seconds. God dammit, Danny. Answer your fucking phone already! I call him agian, but I hang up as soon as the automated massage picks up agian. What if he got hurt in a ghost fight? Or worse, had his mom's cooking! Stop it, Sam. He probably just fell asleep. No, his phone would have woke him up. I send another text.
"Danny, if you are trying to worry me to death, congratulations, you're succeeding," I mutter, hoping that he's just messing with me and and is not actually hurt. Well, he'll be hurt when I get my hands on him. Ten minutes later, I hear a knock at my window. I swear, if that's him, I'm going to kill him for worrying me so much. I look out and see Danny's innocent grin. I open the window to let him in.
"Danny!" I yell.
"What?" He asks.
"Why haven't you answered your phone?"
"Huh?" He sets some bag on my bed and he checks his phone. "I'm sorry, Sammy. My phone died."
"What's in the bag"
"I was getting us ice cream."
"Mine had better be soy."
"It is." He gets them out of the bag and pauses. "I just don't know which one is mine."
"You're tasting them, then."
"Ok." He takes a bite of one and makes a face. "This one is yours." He hands it to me and gags.
"It's not that bad," I say, rolling my eyes.
"Yes it is!" Danny exclaims, taking a bite of his own ice cream.
"Whatever." Maybe he can stay half ghost and not be turned into a whole ghost.
A/n I do not own Danny Phantom.