Living With The Chills

by ElphieBLW

A lot can change in a month. You could go from failing to acing a class. You could have a birthday. A month can make or break you. The past month broke me. A lot can change in a month, but even more can change in just 23 seconds. In those 23 seconds, one month ago, I died. Series remake.

4. Attack of the Killer Garage Sale

A/N: ...So, um, yeah, not a lot is getting done for my other stories right now, sorry. There's a big long explanation for that, but I won't bore you with all that mess. Instead, enjoy this new chapter! Complete with psycho techno ghosts.

Also, do you know how difficult it is to write from the point of view of a jerk? Neither did I, until writing up this chapter. Gosh, Danny, popularity turns you into a jackass.

Remember, contest still up for the reasoning behind "Kirkshire." As a hint, the name sounds similar to an adjective describing his attitude. Winners get minor OC's.

|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|

Halloween actually did manage to get people to forget the two articles I'd been in, but other than that, boring. Seriously, not a thing happened.

But now, not even a day later, things got way weird.

I came in to our kitchen to see Dash Baxter sitting there, chin on his fist, staring at my sister and sighing.

He is flirting with my sister!

...And if I don't wanna reveal my ghost side, he'll crush me if I try to stop him. Damn my self-preservation instincts.

So, I ignored the side of me that screamed out to be the overprotective little brother and the bright pink aura surrounding Dash and went into the kitchen, acting like I hadn't noticed either of them.

"Hey, Jazz, hey, Dash." Sadly, my act is actually pretty good. I blinked, letting my eyes go wide and freezing in what would look like shock. "Dash?"

He smirked at me, but Jazz motioned at all the books before them. "Hey, Danny. I was assigned Dash as my newest tutoree, and I'm hoping to use my experiences tutoring him in my thesis paper on 'Tutoring the Untutorable.'" She sighed then, frowning at Dash, who of course was too lovestruck to notice. "Unfortunately, he's disproving my hypothesis that no one is untutorable…."

I chuckled at that, but at Dash's glare, my laugh got cut off short. "Um, well, that's great and all, but I'm, um, gonna go see, uh, whether there's any, um, help I can give Mom or Dad downstairs. Bye!" I rushed off to the door to the basement, hearing Dash behind me.

"So, I'm throwing this party on Saturday…."

I rolled my eyes. Great, another A-Lister party that my genius sister is getting invited to but I'm not.

Oh, well. Guess I'll just be doomed to loser-dom for yet another year.

I made my way down to the basement, noticing as I did that Dad was fiddling with something that looked suspiciously like a vacuum.

...This can NOT be good.

"Hey, uh, Dad," I said anyway, hoping I could fix whatever he'd managed to screw up this time, "what're you working on?"

Dad grinned widely at me, holding up the device. "It's the Fenton Weasel! This baby can suck up anything made of ectoplasm and spit 'em right back into the Fenton Portal!"

...Okay, so the Thermos, but in a vacuum. Okay.

"See, watch!"

My eyes went wide as Dad flipped the ON switch.

Oh, crap.

And suddenly everything was getting sucked into the Weasel, not just the ectoplasm samples Mom and Dad kept everywhere. Various pieces of unfinished weaponry, the Fenton Ghost Fisher, a remote, some boxes, and the Fenton Thermos all went flying into the Weasel.

And then the Thermos got stuck. I blinked, staring in shock that all those bigger things could fit just fine, but the Thermos got stuck.

Once again, my parents' inventions have defied logic. It's weird how they keep doing that, but, hey, that's also how they managed to break into a dimension full of things people don't believe exist.

Then I realized, oh, crap, the Thermos is stuck. The Thermos that I use to catch all the dozens of ghosts that break out of the Portal on an almost-daily basis is stuck in the only other device that can catch ghosts.

I am screwed.

"Dang it," Dad grumbled, grabbing at the Thermos and trying to tug it out. He frowned when he realized he couldn't get it unstuck. "Here," he said, shoving the Weasel at me, "hold onto that, I'll go get the Fenton Unlodger."

AKA the Fenton Plunger.

"Um, but, Dad—" I started, having finally gotten a good look at the controls on the Weasel.

But he was already gone.

I rolled my eyes, but finished my thought, hovering a hand over the switch I'd seen. "Can't you just throw it into reverse?"

So I did.

And suddenly, things were flying out of the Weasel as fast as they'd flown in. Random scraps of metal and weaponry and boxes and just crap in general were rushing around the room, almost turning the place into a real-life remake of the movie Twister.

Then the Thermos hit the wall. And the crap hit the fan.

The wall, needless to say, broke the Thermos. Then, a piece of the Thermos flung itself across the room, barely missing me, and into the button to open the Portal doors.

Wait. Crap.

The Portal doors slammed open, the swirling green-purple-black of the Ghost Zone spun hypnotically before me, and I felt my eyes flicker green and flare up before something came out.

"Ah ha!" the thing exclaimed. "I, TECHNUS, ghost master of electricity and technology, am free of that infernal, technology-less place!"

...Techno ghost? In a lab coat, no less. Awesome, there's a mad scientist's ghost in my parents' lab.

...Somehow, this sounds like it'll be worse than having Cinderella in here.

Oh, right, have to fight ghost now. I transformed, tugging that cold part of me to the surface, and flew at Technus. "Oh, no, you don't," I growled, hovering before him. "You are not using the technology in this lab to take over the world!"

Technus stopped for a moment, staring at me.

...He wasn't planning on doing that, was he?

And now he's grinning. Nope, totally wasn't planning on doing that. "Child! What an ingenious idea!" he cackled loudly. Then, quieter, he asked, "Have you ever considered being a tutor?"

Um, yeah, actually, back when my grades were okay because I wasn't spending every day catching ghosts and trying to hide my new half-ghost status from my parents.

Wait. I glared at him. "That wasn't advice, I thought you'd already come up with it!"

"...Can I still claim credit for it, then?"

I scowled and lunged at him, throwing my fist into his face. I felt my eyes flare slightly when our auras crossed, which made me pause.

That hasn't happened before….

Then he made some staff thing appear and zapped me with it. I was flung back towards where I'd dropped the Fenton Weasel. I paused for a moment, wondering why the heck my dad decided to call a vacuum the "weasel," then grabbed the hose and flew back up towards Technus. "Y'know, I've already been dumped on once in my own house, and that was more than enough for one day!" I aimed the suction end at the ghost and flicked the vacuum on.

Technus struggled to fight the pull for a moment, but the machine sucked him in.

...Along with half the stuff in the lab. Again.

For a split second, it looked like everything would be fine. Then

BOOM!

And ectoplasm splattered everywhere.

I was still holding the torn-off suction end of the Weasel in my hands when Dad called out, "Danny! I'm coming back down! And I expect to see the lab exactly the way I left it!"

My eyes went wide, taking in the green tinge that everything had taken on after getting splattered. Then, I took the only option I had as a normal, respectful teenager.

I turned intangible and went to hide in my room.

|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|

I met up with Tucker and Sam at the Nasty Burger later that day. I was a bit preoccupied watching Dash handing out invites to his party to pay too much attention to what Sam was saying.

"...Roller coaster… three years… life expectancy…."

Tucker's response to… uh, whatever, was equally ignored. "No way… bucks… food…."

"Hey… lend… cash."

Man, I wish I could get into that party….

"Lend… repay… out… my reach. Right…?"

He's even inviting Doug Wilson, the kid that eats paper? Seriously? And I don't get an invite?

"DANNY!"

I jumped, turning to my (very angry) friends. One of my hands went behind my neck, rubbing nervously as I grinned weakly at them. "Uh, y—yeah?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Something more interesting going on?"

I sighed, and we all turned to watch Dash finish handing out his invites. "Great," I said, "it's the hottest party of the year, and Paulina's going, and I'm not, again."

...Yes, she ended up dumping me at the dance, but I'm still a hormonal teenage boy and she's still the prettiest girl in school. So sue me.

Sam scowled at me. Oh, boy, here it comes…. "I still don't understand what you see in her."

I turned back to stare over at her again, resting my chin on the palm of my hand. "She's only, like, perfectly flawless."

Now we all turned to look at Paulina, who was up at the register. "Um, can I get a Mighty Meaty Cheesy Melt? How meaty is that, exactly?"

The mighty bored cashier deadpanned, "That would be mighty meaty."

Paulina's nose wrinkled at that, then she gave that flirty smile she's always giving the jocks. "Can I get that a mite less meaty?"

Cue cashier's eye roll. "That's one Mighty Mini Meaty Cheesy Melt. Anything else?"

"A diet soda."

And now Sam was rolling her eyes. "You're right, she's a goddess."

Tucker sighed now, and we all turned back to face each other. "Why don't we get invited to these parties? We've got style, charm, good looks." He crossed his arms, huffing. "At least, I do, anyway."

"Dream on." And here comes anti-conformity!Sam. "On the social circuit, we're as invisible as Danny in his ghost mode. We're nobodies." ...But she sounded almost happy about that…. "Of course, that will all change five years from now, but we've got each other, right?"

And there's a hand holding a paper in my face. ...Make that paper on my face, hand having just slapped it there.

Ow.

"Here." I glanced up, having peeled the paper off my face, to see Dash standing there, looking decisively unhappy to be anywhere near us. "Your sister made me invite you." When Tucker started to look all hopeful at getting an invite of his own, Dash added with a sneer, "Only you. Show up, shut up, go home, and nobody gets hurt."

He stalked off, and I stared down at the paper as several people walked by our table (which almost never happened, seeing as loserhood is apparently contagious).

"Yo, Danny!"

I blinked. Did… someone besides Sam or Tucker just speak to me?

"Hey, Danny!"

Oh my God, they did. And it's spreading!

"What's up, Fenton?" Kwan said before pumping his fists. "Party!"

Then, Paulina walked by and waved at me! "See you Saturday, Danny."

I glanced down at the magical little paper in my hands that read "Dash Bash, Sat Nov 3. 9 pm. If you're cool, you'll be there." For a moment, my eyes narrowed in on the word "cool." I was, indirectly, told I was cool by Dash Baxter! Which made everyone else actually acknowledge my existence! "I… got an invite?" I grinned widely, hugging the paper. "I've arrived!"

Sam scowled, resting her chin on her fist, eyes rolling. "Swell. Send us a postcard from Popularityville."

I jumped up, heading out the door. "I will!"

|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|

I walked to school with Tucker and Sam the next day, feeling a bit guilty about ditching them. But, I mean, I got an invite. That totally makes it forgivable.

...Right?

"Seriously, Danny," Tuck was saying as we walked up to the school grounds, "ever since you got that invitation, you're all about the in-crowd."

I chuckled nervously. "What? Dude, no way. That's just ridiculous!" Then my eyes caught Kwan, standing over by Valerie (who was still mad at him for dumping her right before the dance and making her go with Tucker, who then never showed up—oh, whoops, that one was my fault. Uh… moving on!), and I grinned. "Kwan! Lookin' good!"

The Asian jock turned to see me, grinning back and pumping his fists in the air again. "Fentonmeister! Woohoo!"

...Admittedly, he's a bit of an airhead.

"No, really, Danny," Sam said, causing me to turn back to see her frowning, "it's like—"

"Yo, Fenton, c'mere."

I sped over to Dash, not quite willing to risk losing the invitation. But I still heard Sam finish her sentence.

"—we're not even here…."

...I'm an awful friend….

"Fenton!"

But Dash is calling me over and it's only one day until the party and I swear I'll apologize after it, so I still rushed over to the group of jocks. They were all reading some magazine, JQ: Jocks Quarterly. Dash handed it to me as he spoke.

"If you're coming to the party, you have to look the part." He pointed at the cover. "This is what we're all wearing. It's very high-end, very hip, very Dash."

...Did he just use his name as an adjective?

"You do have one, right?"

That snarl can be nothing but bad news if I answer negatively.

"W—What? Of course. I—I have two, that's how hip and high-end I am." Lying through my teeth so I don't get uninvited (and pummeled, but mostly uninvited). This is the way high school works.

"Well, wear one." Dash was sneering still. Totally not invited willingly. I'll have to thank Jazz for getting me in. "I might've had to invite you so your sister would come, but if you embarrass me, she'll be doing her thesis on your bruises!"

...Okay, kinda torn between that overprotective feeling (he invited me just to get Jazz there?) and self-preservation (don't screw up, don't wanna die fully) again. But he just walked off, saving me from having to say anything that'd cause him to try and beat me up. Sam and Tucker came over once Dash and his buddies were gone.

I showed them the outfit, sighing. "This probably costs a fortune, but he'll kill me if I don't show up in it. How am I supposed to get that kinda money by tomorrow?"

Sam bit her lip, glancing away, then sighed. "Y'know, I almost hate to offer, but—"

"Hey, Danny!"

Paulina is talking to me!

"Wanna listen to my new CD? It's really crunk!"

...Crunk?

I turned to Tucker. "Uh, is crunk good?"

He gave me a deadpan stare worthy of Sam. "It's Paulina."

Right. "Crunk's good!" I turned to face her, running over and saying, "Be right there!"

I sat beside her under one of the trees, and she put in the CD.

It's Friday, Friday Gotta get down on Friday—

...I don't care how pretty Paulina is, crunk is not good.

|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|

I arrived home and immediately smelled the tell-tale signs of Mom's cooking: burnt meat and ectoplasm. Then, I heard barking.

"Did we get a dog?"

Jazz rolled her eyes, pointing at the… microwave? that Mom was currently forcing closed. "No, Mom managed to put the 'frank' back in 'frankenstein' with their new microwave."

I turned to my parents. "...How?"

Mom smiled proudly, still holding the device closed. "We infused it with ectoplasm so it would cook ten times faster! There's just the slight issue of radiation leaking into and reanimating whatever food we put in it."

...Great. Ghost hot dogs.

Ignoring that, I turned to Dad. "Hey, Dad, could I have some money to buy some clothes for the party tomorrow?"

Mom and Dad exchanged one of those glances they often gave each other anytime Jazz or I asked something that was in those parenting books they had. I still say Jazz never should've got them those. Then Dad was looking back at me, clapping me on the shoulder. "Danny, Danny, Danny. You know as Fentons, your mother and I make a lot of money by selling our inventions to the government."

Which inventions? Half of them don't work until I fix them for you.

"But as parents," Mom said, cutting in, "we understand that you should understand the value of a dollar." She rubbed her fingers together in the universal sign for cash. "You want money, you've gotta earn it."

"You mean, get a job? But the party's tomorrow!" I complained. That's so not cool. Plus, I'm fourteen! I can't even legally get a job yet!

"Or sell something," Dad answered. "Like your comic books!"

WHAT.

"Or some other junk you don't need."

Okay, first off, my comics are not junk! I still read them… occasionally. And Tucker and I trade them almost every year!

"Like those model rockets!"

NO. I built those myself, dammit, and I'm not selling them!

Mom blinked at Dad, then narrowed her eyes (yes, I can tell even though she wears those red goggles), a hand on her hip. "Speaking of junk, that equipment from the Weasel explosion needs to be taken out to the shed."

You mean that building out back that most people use to store gardening equipment and a mower but Dad uses to store old ectoplasm samples, broken inventions, knick knacks, and other things that are currently collecting dust?

Which Mom just remembered. "If there's room. That old barn hasn't been cleaned out in years!"

Dad rushed over to the box of ectoplasm-covered junk and hugged it tightly. "This is not junk! These are very important to me!"

Mom grabbed a tiny gizmo from the box, saying, "Do you even know what this is?"

Dad stared at it for a long moment before snagging it back. "Not a clue! But I know it is vitally important, so it's off to the shed!"

Then he handed me the box before grabbing another, equally covered in ectoplasm, and leading me outside to the large, barn-like building where we kept the (according to everyone but Dad) unimportant, broken crap.

Dad set down his box just inside the doorway, motioning for me to do the same. That done, we both stared around at the building. The walls and floor were covered in so many boxes, it was impossible to step more than two feet inside. Frankly, it was the sort of place you'd expect to see on an edition of Hoarders.

Dad frowned. "Y'know, maybe I should get rid of this junk…." Then he brushed his hands off, heading back out. "But that's a job for another day!"

As he left, I took one last look around, remembering what he'd said earlier about selling things to make money. Suddenly, instead of seeing boxes of glowing green junk, I saw glowing green dollar signs.

I grinned. "Saturday's another day…."

|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|

Saturday came, and with it, a very last minute, early morning yard sale of all my parents' old junk that Dad wanted to keep.

...I'd never been so glad that my parents don't often venture outside the house.

I held up a small device, showing it off to Mr. Lancer. "It's a perfectly good vacuum motor," I told him. "Only been used once." In a device that just so happened to vacuum up everything in the room before exploding, but, hey, all salespeople lie to make the product sound better.

"Hmm." He still seemed unsure.

"Only ten bucks," I said, trying to make it sound like a steal, which it was, though more for me than him.

He grinned, taking it off my hands and forking over a ten dollar bill. "Yes, this should fix my Hair Hornet nicely."

Tucker, who was lounging in a chair behind me rather than helping out (he claimed it was too early to move and that he'd missed a feeding and thus was feeling woozy), decided to speak up. "Hair Hornet? You mean that crazy hair trimmer-slash-hedge clipper-slash-vacuum cleaner they sell on TV? Don't you need hair for that?"

I decided now would be a good time to turn away and act like I don't know Tucker.

Hey, this one's totally forgivable. And it's self-preservation at its finest.

"Good one, Mr. Foley. I'll remember that on Monday, when I'm grading tests."

See? Now I might actually pass a test that Tuck doesn't.

As Lancer walked away, Sam came over, handing me a few bills. "Just sold a toaster. Y'know, I'm surprised your dad's letting you sell all this stuff. He's such a pack rat."

Don't I know it.

...But he doesn't know I'm selling anything. "Yeah, well, he's been planning on getting rid of this stuff for a while, so he won't even miss it!"

I hope.

Tuck leaned back a bit more in his chair. "Well, I must say, I'm pleased with our turn out today." He opened up one of those reflector thingies for tanning. "We're doing a really brisk business."

"'We?'" Sam said, an eyebrow raised at him.

I cut in to avoid an argument, counting our profits. "I'm still twenty bucks short. How'm I gonna get that suit if I'm still short?"

Sam shrugged. "You're still welcome to hang out with us. Mega movie marathon at my place."

I blinked at her. "Your place?" She hasn't invited me over since we started hanging out more often with Tuck. I wonder if she still has the bowling alley….

Her eyes widened for a second, probably expecting me to blurt out about her mansion-in-disguise. "Well, I'd've invited you guys over sooner, but we're usually out fighting ghosts with you. I just decided maybe it was time—"

"Hey, Fentina!"

I bolted over towards Dash, just barely hearing Sam finish with, "—for you to totally ignore us for the twentieth time."

Eh, as much fun as it'd be to see Tucker's face when he sees Sam's place, I still wanna milk this invite for all it's worth.

Dash sneered down at me, and is it bad that I'm all too used to being on the receiving end of a sneer? Not even just from ghosts, either. I've been getting those 'ugh it's you' looks since Mom and Dad started publicly announcing their thoughts on the existence of ghosts, which is to say, I've always gotten those looks.

"Your sister," Dash said, folding his arms over his chest, "has given me so much extra work that my computer crashed and burned. Got anything to make it work?"

Well, gee, what with all the helpful information you gave me, yeah, sure. Not.

"Well," I replied, trying to get the information I needed without annoying Dash any more than I already had by merely existing, "what operating system do you have?"

All I got was a blank stare.

I blinked at him, then had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. "What kind of computer is it?"

"A PC."

...Yeahh, so helpful. "Okay, well…." I glanced over the computer accessories we had, grabbing a motherboard and a 16 gig flash drive. "This motherboard should help out a bit, just take it in to a store and ask them to replace it." I handed off those two to him, then noticed a box I'd missed earlier. I snagged that as well, passing it over to Dash, as well. "And this Portals XL operating system'll make it run like it's brand new. All you'll need to do with this is just install it." Thinking quickly through how much money these things would cost in stores and other yard sales, then remembered what I was short for the suit. I grinned. "Twenty bucks takes it all, and I'll even throw in the upgrade disk!"

Dash frowned at me for a moment, probably trying to decide whether I was trying to scam him. Frankly, twenty was actually a decent deal, even for a once-used operating system. But finally, he scowled down at me. "Fine. I'll take it." He forked over a twenty. "See you tonight, and just 'cause I can't believe I'm saying it, I'll say it again." He poked at my chest, glaring. "See you tonight." He spun and walked off, leaving me to count through the money we made once more.

A grin came to my face as I recounted just one more time. "Yes! I am in!" I rushed over to Sam and Tucker, flashing the cash at them. "I got it! The last twenty bucks I needed, and from Dash to boot!"

At that, both smirked, ignoring the fact that I'd ignored them for the irony that was me getting money for the clothes Dash required from Dash himself. The three of us could always appreciate some good humor, especially at the expense of those who bullied us. Dash in particular.

I smiled a bit brighter, glad to see that they were still okay with me, still willing to forgive me after the crappy stuff I'd been doing the past couple days. But then I glanced down at my cell phone and noticed the time. "Aw, man, I'd better get going if I'm gonna get that outfit before the mall closes!" I glanced at Sam and Tuck, biting at my lip. "You guys don't mind cleaning up, do you?" But my brain kept screaming TEN MINUTES TO CLOSE! at me, so my mouth continued running. "Great! See ya!" And I took off.

|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|

Sam told me later about what happened when Tucker came to her house. Apparently, he was first surprised by her 1) speedy receipt of their pizzas and 2) accidentally tipping the delivery guy a ten spot instead of a one. She'd often done that when we were younger, as well, especially when distracted, which she no doubt was, given her anxiety on telling Tucker (or anyone, really) about her family's wealth.

See, her great-grandfather just so happened to be Izzy Manson, inventor of the machine that twirls cellophane around deli toothpicks. Given how popular said machine became, her family was, frankly, set for life. For all generations to come.

Needless to say, Tucker had a fun time making Sam show off her wealth.

|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|

I, luckily, was able to buy the sweatsuit that was required for the party just before stores closed. It wiped me out of every single penny I'd made that day, but I really couldn't care less. I was gonna show up to the party wearing the cool suit that everyone else was wearing. I was finally going to be part of the in-crowd!

Even if it's only for one night, this is still the closest to popular I've ever been.

So, I was heading back home, having grabbed my hover scooter from home before I'd left, the bag with the suit hung over the handlebars, when the chills wracked through me, culminating in that wisp of blue leaking out of my mouth.

I definitely needed to look into finding a way to hide that.

But then I glanced up to see a hose coming at me, a razor attached to one end of it. My eyes went wide as the device keyed in on me and dove down towards my head. I ducked just in time as it flew by, buzzing about a millimeter off the top of my hair.

I scowled at the device, unamused. "Hey, I just got my hair the way I like it! On my head!"

Then, before my eyes, the razor turned into an old-fashioned barbershop blade.

"And I am way too young to shave!"

It flew at me again, and I quickly transformed, yelling out, "Going ghost!" I spun out of the way of the blade, luckily, seeing as it swiped straight through where my neck had been a second ago. My jaw dropped at the close call. "Woah, it is a hair cut, not a head cut!"

I spun tightly, using my ghost-powered speed to build up momentum before flinging myself at the hose part and slamming the whole device into the ground. Once it was down, I pulled away a bit, grinning at the easy victory.

So of course that was when the blade suddenly changed into a giant pair of scissors, snapping at me. I bolted back up into the air, avoiding the dual blades to come back around behind and snag the hose part in my hands. I thought quickly and began spinning once more, this time flinging the ghost clippers off into the distance once enough momentum was built up. It was sent flying, and I considered the fight over.

Then I remembered my scooter and the bag of clothes, which were just about to be run over by a cab. I dove down, snagging both and carrying them off to the side of the road, sighing in relief to see the clothes hadn't been messed up.

I glanced in the direction the clippers had gone. "...I know I should be worried, and I will be. ...Right after the party."

|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|

While I was busy getting home, not getting killed, and getting dressed for the party, Tuck was busy quizzing Sam on what she could and could not buy with all her riches. They told me that, at one point, Tuck mentioned that with her money, Sam could be one of the most popular girls at school.

Sam's response was a simple one, one I'd heard far too often when we were kids and I'd ask the same question of her. She told him that, if she had to buy her popularity, it wasn't worth it.

After that is when things started to get really interesting, even if they didn't notice the remote they'd gotten at the yard sale glowing green just yet.

|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|

Of course, things started to get interesting for me when I got home and was getting changed. Okay, that wasn't the interesting thing, the interesting thing was when I heard Jazz rummaging in the fridge for food, followed by psychotic barking and a shriek.

I was rushing downstairs when the door slammed shut and Jazz grumbled, "Great... leftovers."

I chose to ignore that, not wanting to start her on another 'our parents' inventions ruin everything' rant again, and went into the kitchen, showing off the outfit I wore and doing a spin. "Whaddaya think?" I asked my sister, who was studying me closely. "Is it da bomb? Is it fresh? Is it stoopid?" Realizing how that sounded, I added quickly, "With an oh-oh?"

Jazz rolled her eyes at me, ruffling my hair. "Oh, it's stupid, I'll give you that."

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest after readjusting the sideways visor that came with the suit. The suit itself was white with blue side stripes, made up of a baggy jacket and pants about five sizes too big for me. Under the jacket, I wore a plain black wife beater, and on my feet a pair of blue and white converse.

I thought I looked good, if a bit like a rapper. "You'll change your tune when you see me at the party." Then I took a closer look at Jazz, who was wearing her usual black three-quarter sleeve shirt with teal blue culottes and ballet flats. "Uh, when are you changing?"

She sighed at me. "Not changing, not going."

My eyes went wide. "What?" I shrieked. "B—But you're the only reason Dash even invited me!"

I could tell she tried to seem apathetic, but I knew her too well. "Not caring," she said, even though she was forcing herself not to nibble her lip.

"B—But he'll—he'll kill me if I show up without—!"

And then Dad came flying in, screeching, "CODE RED!"

And all Jazz's concern flew out the window as she rushed towards the stairs. "And not staying!"

Lucky. She got away just in time.

Dad was glancing around like a paranoid schizophrenic, checking in the cabinets and under the table and behind doorways. Finally, I couldn't take it any more. "Uh, what's up, Dad?"

He didn't even turn to me, still busy combing through the room. "There's no time! Someone raided the junk shed while we were working!" Oh, but now he's right in my face. "Danny! Did you see anything?"

I tried, I really did, to not look guilty, but I could feel my feet start to shuffle and my brow get sweaty. "Uh, n—no, no! Not a thing! But we should totally compare notes whenIgetbackfromthepartybye!"

And, like the coward I am, I ran out the door, hearing Dad behind me open the fridge and yell for the ghost-dogs to, "Cover me, boys! SERPENTINE!"

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I got to Dash's house shortly after 9 o'clock. I had a feeling that I was one of the last people to arrive, but I didn't realize that I was dead last until a moment later.

Dash opened the door after I knocked, and I stared for a second, highly confused to see him wearing what was definitely not the sweatsuit I'd paid nearly $200 for. Instead, he wore blue jeans, red converse, and a white shirt reading "High on Stress" in red.

In other words, what I wore every frickin' day.

"Uh, Dash?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, right. See, you're not part of my posse, so you didn't get the memo. After buying that computer stuff, I didn't have money for the suit, so I changed the dress code to 'loser chic.'"

He opened the door a bit more to show everyone wearing the clothes that Sam, Tuck, and I wore on a daily basis. I just stared for a moment, taking in the sheer amount of people dressed like us before registering what Dash had said. No one else was wearing the sweatsuit, meaning I was the only one who looked like an idiot. Even Doug the Paper Eater had gotten the memo.

Then Paulina walked over, dressed as Sam. She motioned to the outfit. "You like it? It's so hideous it's cool!" Then she glanced at me, wrinkling her nose. "Ew. Who dressed you, your mom?"

And suddenly everyone was laughing, and I was really wishing I hadn't milked the invite quite so much.

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Back to Sam and Tuck, they explained the interesting part that happened next. They'd finally started the movie marathon, and were halfway through the newest karate movie before the movie began rewinding and fast forwarding itself.

Sam, of course, yelled at Tuck for not just asking to rewatch something, but he told her that he didn't have the remote. In classic horror movie style, they turned to the remote, seeing it floating and glowing as it kept pressing buttons on its own.

Then, as if that weren't weird enough, it flew out the window, causing Sam and Tuck to chase it down through the town.

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I tried to make the best of the party. I mingled with the people, but every time I spoke to anyone, they'd just ignore me and leave.

Call it karma for ignoring Sam and Tuck.

I finally saw a group playing spin the bottle (really? Didn't we outgrow that years ago?), and paused by the circle as Paulina spun. Somehow, the bottle actually ended up pointing at me.

I grinned, but tried to hide it. "Huh, uh, look at that."

Paulina's nose wrinkled up again, and she reached a foot out to nudge the bottle with her toe, making it point instead at a vase. She smiled brightly. "Sorry, Danny, but rules are rules!"

...And the most popular girl in school was making out with a vase. Our school is so screwed up.

I continued on my way, sighing. "What am I even doing here?" I wondered quietly to myself. "These people aren't my friends…." I took another glance around the room, rolling my eyes. "Even if they look like them." Another sigh escaped me. "Man, I wish Sam and Tuck were here. It's lonely being popular—well, non-popular…."

I found myself heading up some stairs, just looking for a place to hide out until the party was over. Then, the chills came again, that blue mist flowing out of my mouth with them, and I glanced up, seeing a massive amount of glowing green machines flying in through the wall and down the hallway.

"What in the world…?"

I hadn't seen floating electronics since Sam showed me that toaster she got from Denmark.

I followed the electronics into what had to be Dash's room, judging by the football posters on the walls. There, I saw something truly terrifying.

All the machines were coming together, building up into a giant monster that barely fit inside the large room. Its head was made from Dash's computer, a washer/dryer and toaster made its torso, one arm was that set of clippers (which I now realized was a Hair Hornet), the other arm one of those cherry pickers from crane games. Luckily, it wasn't large enough yet to have pulled together legs and feet, but still it looked highly intimidating.

Then, it spoke, and I realized that the monster was actually made up of all the junk I'd sold, the junk that had, at one point, been covered in ectoplasm.

"HAHA!" it said in a nasally voice that was just familiar enough to place. "I am Technus! Master of all things mechanical! And once I complete my construction, you will all succumb to my awesome pow—pow—pow—"

As he echoed himself, the image of a Bane-like face kept flickering like a tape set on repeat. He finally got a hold of himself and frowned.

"What is wrong with me?" he murmured, and I glanced at Dash's desk, seeing the Portals XL upgrade disk.

Dash hadn't updated the program yet! But I can't let Technus get that disk. I transformed, pulling the cold inside me to the forefront, then dove towards the desk. "Oh, no," I stated, "you are not using that disk to upgrade your programming!"

...There was another of those awkward pauses and I felt the overwhelming need to facepalm as I realized that, yet again, I'd spouted out an idea he hadn't had yet.

"That's a great idea!" Technus said happily. "Forget tutoring, you should be a teacher!"

We both dove for the disk, but I got to it first, tucking it away into my suit's belt. Suddenly I was being pelted with bread-shaped ecto-energy. I was blown through the wall and into a closet, rubbing at my head. Ghost toast? Really? I don't even like toast, for crying out loud!

Then I glanced around the closet. Dozens of red and white jackets hung from the rack, and for a moment I just stared. "...How many letterman jackets does one guy need?" I reached behind me, having felt something soft that had cushioned my fall, and pulled out a small, fluffy, pink teddy bear. Turning around showed that the closet was full of these bears in all sorts of pastel colors. "...And I don't even want to know about these…."

I shot up through the ceiling before rocketing back down, taking Technus by surprise and knocking him into the ground. Guess this guy's not as tough as he looks.

But then he stood back up. "Huh, you're not too bad for a whippersnapper. But I think you're still a bit wet behind the ears!"

Then, the cherry picker shot out, snagging me around the stomach and dragging me into the dryer. I punched at the roof of the tumbler, yelling, "Is everything you say some sort of horrible pun?"

And that comment got me a one-way trip through the heavy cycle. Note to self: treat my towels and t-shirts better, this dryer thing sucks.

The dryer finally spit me out, sending me crashing into Dash's desk, which splintered and broke into hundreds of pieces. He's gonna kill me when he finds out. I shook myself back into reality and lunged again at Technus, but he phased through the wall, causing me to crash into Dash's stereo.

Then there were footsteps right outside, and I quickly followed Technus as the door opened and Dash screamed out, "Fenton! You're a dead man!"

Yeahhh, when am I not?

Outside, Technus was yelling something about being the destroyer of worlds or some such nonsense, and Sam and Tucker were running over, Tuck holding the spare Thermos he kept at his house (which I'll have to use to remake the one that broke in the Weasel accident) and Sam commenting about how my fun was coming to an end.

Right, 'cause it's been so fun being the only one who spent a couple hundred bucks on stupid clothes that no one else was wearing….

But, I needed help and I wasn't above begging at this point. "GUYS!" I yelled down to them as Technus started to aim his various sharp, pointy gadgets at me. "HELP!"

...And now they're turning away.

I was forced to dodge the clippers, scissors, blades, and toast-blasts as I begged them. "YIII! GUYS, C'MON, SERIOUSLY, HELP!" When they still ignored me, I found myself just spilling my guts, still ducking and diving and dodging around the attacks from Technus. "I'M SORRY I CHOSE TO HANG OUT WITH THE POPULARS KIDS INSTEAD OF YOU GUYS! IT WAS STUPID AND SHALLOW AND THEY WEREN'T EVEN WEARING THE STUPID SWEATSUIT AND THAT'S NOT REALLY THE POINT BUT I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!"

And suddenly they turned back around. "How can we be of assistance?" Sam asked.

I flew down to them. "He's running on an old version of Portals XL. Dash didn't upgrade it."

Sam and Tuck both scoffed. What? We're losers, we know about computers and stuff. "That piece of vaporware?" Sam complained. "It's the worst software ever! How'd you even convince him to buy it?"

We all stopped for a second, then I said bluntly, "It's Dash."

"...Right."

Then Tucker grinned. "Stall him! I think I know a way to beat him!" He turned to Sam, asking her, "Can you get me an upgrade for my PDA?"

"At this time of night?" she questioned back.

What? It's almost midnight, after all, on a Saturday. Most places are closed.

"Uh, yeah?" Tuck said sheepishly, realizing his request was probably—

Sam shrugged. "Sure." Then she pulled out her phone, calling someone quickly.

—Completely reasonable. Huh. Money really does make things happen.

But then Tuck shooed me, reminding me to stall for as much time as possible. So I flew back up to where Technus was still spouting out plans for destroying the world with his technology or something. I grabbed onto one of the robot's arms, flipping him over my shoulder in a judo move Mom had taught me years ago, before yelling, "Get back, you… hunk of my dad's junk!"

Okay, so as far as insults go, not the best. But it still ticked him off.

"Junk?" he growled. "Junk? Could mere junk do this?" He tugged out the remote that Sam had bought and started pressing buttons.

And suddenly I was wearing a cowboy costume. I yelped, confused for a second, but he'd already hit another button, and I had on a dress and had sprouted—well, female parts.

Not cool.

Another jab and I was suddenly Spock from Star Trek. There was a split second moment where I wanted to hold up my fingers in the classic Vulcan greeting and say "Live long and prosper…."

But then I realized I was in the middle of fighting off a ghost, and I scowled, grabbing the remote from him with a snarled, "Give me that!"

I pressed a button as well, and suddenly I was back in my Hazmat suit, thankfully. As I looked up from the remote, though, I was blasted in the face with ghost toast and flew back into Dash's house. Technus crashed in after me, and suddenly everyone was staring.

Except Paulina. She just turned up her wrinkled nose again, complaining, "Ugh, is everybody invited to this party?"

For once, Dash showed common sense as he began pushing people to the door, yelling, "Just RUN!"

Everybody bolted out the door, and I turned to face Technus once more, just as he shot that cherry picker at me again, lifting me up to look him in the eye. I struggled, trying to pul myself out of his grip as my eyes flared up from the interaction with his aura.

Seriously, I need to find out why auras are starting to affect me more.

"Now," Technus said, smirking at me, "let's see how you like it in the scrap heap!"

I continued to struggle, eyes completely green, but then I saw Sam and Tuck. "Anytime, Tucker!" I called out.

He was fiddling with his PDA still. "Just a few more seconds!"

For a split second, I worried that he couldn't actually do this. But then I berated myself for daring to doubt his 'mad hax0r skillz,' as he'd called them on more than one occasion, regardless of how often Sam and I told him that it was totally dorky to say that out loud. He could, after all, hack my parents' computer, which was running on the same system as government computers.

But I couldn't help grumbling, "Great, I'm about to be killed fully and my best friend is playing Solitaire." Or Tetris. Or Space Invaders. Or Plants Vs. Zombies.

...He's got a lot of games on those things, y'know.

Sam chose that moment to run her own form of interference. "Hi," she called up to the ghost (who still had me trapped), "I'm Sam Manson. I don't think I caught your name?"

He grinned brightly, obviously happy to be given the chance to introduce himself yet again. "I am TECHNUS! Manipulator of Machines! Lord of All Gadgetry! Conqueror of Civilizations! Wizard of Integrated Circuitry! Master of… Master... of… Mas… ter… of…."

My brow furrowed. "What's happening?"

Tucker smirked up at me. "Portals XL is happening! The old version has absolutely no security!" He folded his arms over his chest. "I haven't hacked into a computer so easily since the school replaced their Macs with PCs."

"I am… Technus!" Gotta give it to the guy, he's really trying to fight it. "I am… I…."

Then the computer screen went blue, a large error message flashing for a moment before all the various machines broke apart and fell to the ground. As they fell, the cherry picker finally released me, and I sighed in relief as the sclera of my eyes went back to white, a pressure I didn't realize was building behind my eyes dissipating. I drifted to the ground, grinning at Tucker.

"I could've hacked into that thing with a calculator, let alone a wireless PDA!" he claimed.

"Yeah, let's not test that, okay?" I requested, way too tired to appreciate humor.

Sam came up then, sucking up the ecto-energy that had seeped into the machines, thus ridding them of the ghost that had possessed them. With that done, she turned to us. "Nice job, guys."

I shook my head, changing back to my human side, still dressed in the overly-expensive sweatsuit. "Great. Can we go home now?"

Seeing the smirks on their faces, I realized that there was ribbing to be had.

I sighed. "Alright, get it over with."

"I didn't know Li'l Eminem had a concert this week."

"You trying out for a music video or something?"

"It's the newest back-up singer for Kanye West!"

"All you need is to start dating a female rapper, and we'll finally be the cool kids."

My eyelids dropped to half-mast in annoyance. "You guys done?"

Both pursed their lips, thinking that through. Tuck nodded, but Sam shook her head, holding up a finger. "Just one more."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Last one."

She smirked at me. "Don't let Lancer see you wearing that. He's already on you enough about wearing a belt."

I shook my head, walking away. "Forget you guys, I take back my apology now."

They chased after me, both laughing, knowing I didn't mean it at all.

Well, maybe a little.

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On Monday morning, Sam and Tucker came up to me in school. "Where were you yesterday, man?" Tuck asked. "We waited for you at the Nasty Burger all day."

I sighed. "Sorry. I had to return those sweats so I could refund everybody who bought stuff in the yard sale so I could get the junk back in the shed before Dad went crazy."

Sam's eyebrows went up. "That's all the damage? Sounds like you got off easy."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, Dad's checking over every piece for 'government surveillance devices'…." I paused, biting my lip. "And I still feel really sorry about dumping you guys for the jerky popular kids. I can't really promise it won't happen again, I am human, after all—"

"Half human," both said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes, continuing, "—but I know what it's like to be invisible, and I'll try to be better about wanting to fit in more."

We stopped at my locker, and I had to fight back a smirk when I saw Dash heading over to his own. Sam leaned against the locker next to mine, asking, "So, did you learn a lesson from all this?"

There was a crash from across the hall, and everyone turned to see a huge pile of pastel-colored teddy bears fall out of Dash's locker. Students everywhere laughed, even as Dash yelled out, "FENTON! YOU'RE DEAD!"

I turned back to Sam and Tucker, beaming and saying, "One person's trash is another person's revenge!"

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A/N: Okay. Seriously, should not have taken this long, sorry. Anyway, next will be What You Want. Also, as to why Danny got to know about Sam's wealth and Tucker didn't: basically, Danny was friends with Sam first, then Tuck came into their group. At first, it was more Danny hanging out with one or the other. It took a while for all three of them to consistently hang out together. As such, Sam was fine having Danny over her house (since he'd been visiting since before she began worrying about her wealth buying her friends), but she wanted to make sure Tuck was really her friend before letting him come over. The trio's past will be delved into a bit more later on in the fic, but I wanted to expand on this in particular in this chapter.

Please let me know if there's anything in particular you want to see covered or delved deeper into in this fic. Thanks!

Read and review, please!