I decided Paulina was too hard to write, because she would be too stupid to notice details I want put in. This is more than twice as long as my last! enjoy! Tucker is next.


3: Sam

The situation was this: Tucker and I were near the doorway to the classroom, in the bottom right, if you imagine the room as a square. The crowd was in the back, about center (top middle to you). The desks were between us and the crowd. I craned to see the commotion.

Danny was standing tall and straight, facing his foes, which were the jocks, and of course Paulina and her posse. He was saying something very quietly, but very seriously: I could tell by the looks on the guys' faces. I was stunned by their range of emotions; I never knew they had more than "win" and "defeat".

The girls were watching Danny as well, with looks of outrage—or was that fear? Hate? Wariness? Paulina was front and center of the group, absentmindedly winding a lock of hair around a dainty finger, looking like a murderous beauty, but too timid to call the shots just yet. I'm guessing Danny insulted her, thanks to his new bad attitude. I'd like to cheer, but if it was his mean attitude that did that, I almost feel sorry for Paulina.

I glanced at the clock at the back of the room, above the crowd's heads. I had two minutes before class technically started. Any second now the whole football team would pile onto Danny for revenge. I lunged forward—only to have a brown arm wrap around my waist and another clamp over my mouth. So much for overprotectiveness.

"Mmmffph—Tucker!" I yelped as soon as my mouth was free. I had licked his hand, and nobody likes that. I pushed his arm off and stood facing him. "What's the big deal?"

Tucker wiped his wet hand on his cargo pants and glared at me. "First of all, ew. Who taught you to lick people's hands? Okay, look...Danny's not in his right mind, it's the mirror's fault, you don't want to mess with him. Now's the time to listen and learn." He motioned to me to move closer, and we carefully eased into our seats next to Danny's seat, close to the action. Actually, as we got there, the jocks receded and flowed back into their seats. I was amazed—jocks never did that until about two minutes after class started. Why didn't they beat him up? What power did Danny wield over them? The girls did too, quietly leaving, for once wordless. Only Paulina and Star remained, partly because their seats were near us, and partly because Paulina was about to vent on me.

Danny was on my right, and Tucker was on his left. Paulina casually moved over to my left, away from Danny, and actually stooped to talk to me. She leaned against the empty desk next to me threateningly.

"Hey, goth geek, your boyfriend was being a jerk to me. You'd better make him apologize."

That just burned me up. "First of all, he's not my boyfriend! And second, I don't even know how he was being a jerk, why don't you tell me?"

"He basically said I was ugly and stupid! And that I was good for nothing! I could go on and on!" Paulina said self-righteously, and Star nodded dutifully at every insult.

I looked to my right, at Danny, who was staring straight ahead. He turned suddenly and gave me a piercing glare, which almost made me jump. I tried to ignore it, but that look was going to haunt me for a while. I think it could have broken a heart just a touch more fragile than mine. I looked past his face to Tucker, who looked up at the ceiling, signifying...I don't know what. Back to Paulina. "Well..." I said, stalling for time, but Paulina took it badly.

"You're just as bad as he is! You two deserve to be together! Loser love!" She said and stormed away. Star parroted her facial expression and left in the same way. Those girls, they're all the same, I couldn't help thinking.

Star and Paulina had perfect timing; Mr. Lancer started to call roll and I sighed deeply.

I faced forward and put my head in my hands, taking a deep breath. What to do, what to do...with Danny so hostile and not himself. The mirror was ghostly. Which friendly ghost would know about the mirror? Dora? Frostbite? Too bad our resident ghost ally was sick with a mysterious ailment that made him be excessively rude to everyone, or something like that. We couldn't go alone.

A note was pushed onto my desk, startling me from my unhappy reverie. I raised my head to look questioningly at Tucker—he had sent it, and Danny had actually passed it for him? Tucker cocked his head towards Danny. Danny?

Danny was staring straight ahead again.

I opened the note slowly, to see a drawing of some kid—the shirt and the glasses said Mikey—stuffed in a trashcan upside-down. What?

"Why..." I muttered out loud.

I heard stifled laughter. Was someone laughing at me?

I looked to my right: It was Danny. He had his face buried in his arms and was shaking with laughter. He looked up with a crazy grin on his face. "Isn't that funny? Isn't it?" he said hoarsely, over and over. I wanted to throw up, or cry, or scream and run out of the room. Anything to not see my Danny do that.

"This is not funny in the least!" I whisper-shouted at him.

He sobered immediately. "Of course it is." His face returned to his steely gaze so unlike the sweet boy I'd known just a weekend ago. "You know, you're not pretty at all. I hate looking at you," he said nonchalantly.

I tensed and froze. Time seemed to pause. Tucker's mouth was gaping, I noticed. I closed my open mouth as well, and my eyes too. I turned away, unwilling to let him see one tear, then another, fall onto my desk. I hid my face with my hands. I didn't learn anything that period. All I heard was Danny's voice saying those words. My makeup was probably running, but all the better—the goth-er the better. Whoever said "words can never hurt me" was wrong. Coming from my dear friend and—some call it a 'crush'—it cut deep. And he said it so normally too, like he was commenting on the day's lesson, or something stupid like that.

At the end of the class, I had made it through without being called on by Lancer. My eyes were now dry, but I still couldn't make sense of things yet. I slowly gathered my stuff with my head down all the time. We had five minutes between classes, and I was going to take my time getting to my next one. Good thing Danny had already left without so much as a goodbye.

"Sam..." he said. His voice was warm and sad.

I looked up, hoping Danny had come back for one wild moment, but I already knew from the sound it was Tucker anyway. Tucker's face was pure empathy, and I let him hug me. He's matured so much in the nearly two years since the accident...it's almost unbelievable, but here he is, in the flesh. He's still geeky, though; he still likes girls and gadgets and can't seem to choose a favorite between either of them. Good old Tucker. Maybe he isn't too far gone after all. I can always count on him. The funny thing now is that my parents aren't worrying about my friends, they're worrying about who my friends are choosing as friends (me).

I've revised my rules: no human contact unless it's Tucker or Danny. That sounds strange, doesn't it?

I sniffed and straightened up, looking for my bag, only to find Tucker holding it out to me. I had to smile at that one. "Thanks, Tuck." Slowly, he was learning to be charming, truly charming.

We walked out together, side by side, the trio down to a duo. "Give him time," he said. "I have an idea maybe it'll just wear off."

"I hope you're right," I said wistfully. "I guess time will tell." I swiped at my eyes, trying to be inconspicuous.

Tucker blew out his breath noisily. "Only good thing Danny can do at the moment, make people cry..."

"Hey!"

Tucker shrugged and stopped in the middle of the hallway. "It's true..." His somber expression turned to a grin, making a joke of it.

I stopped to consider that thought and scuffed my right boot on the linoleum floor. The smell of the hallway was especially strong today: ammonia and perfume and of course a faint scent of humanity, all mixed together. The cramped hallway was emptying, and the noise and chatter lessened. Peace. But not in my mind, thoughts of Danny's behavior, affliction, whatever it was, dominated. I looked up from contemplation of the floor and set my sights on my next period class, again with Tucker but thankfully without Danny. I thought I'd never think that a good thing. "No comment."

By the end of the day, Danny had been so uncooperative, so extremely disrespectful, even violent, to students and teachers alike, he had been suspended for a week and referred to the counselor's office. He left without a backward glance in 4th period, or so I heard. At least I wouldn't have to worry about avoiding him or any of that stuff. Presumably he must be at home now, terrorizing his parents, perhaps? If I think about it too much, it'll break my heart. I'll stop now.

Every teacher was puzzled as to the cause of his actions. It seemed to get worse when he was in classes without us, as if we somehow held him back just by being there. I hoped, at least. Mr. Lancer called us to his classroom near the end of 4th period via loudspeaker. Everyone stared openly at us, and I knew they were mentally labeling us as the friends of the strangely rude boy named Danny. I guess him calling us out of class was necessary. I forgave him, despite the catcalls and curious looks that annoy me so much.

Tucker and I entered the classroom and were stunned by the empty seats—it must be Mr. Lancer's free period. We stood dutifully in front of his desk, which was a mess of graded and ungraded tests, blank tests, notices, bulletins, several coffee mugs, pencils, and binders. He had thoughtfully cleared out a small area for his current coffee mug, and his large forearms. These he set upon the desk, and considered us for a moment or two. His rather thick fingers played uneasily with a broken pencil and he made to speak.

"Tucker, Sam, do you know of any trouble at home or elsewhere that could have caused Danny's behavior today? You saw him, didn't you?" asked Mr. Lancer, watching us closely.

Tucker made an unassuming face. "I don't know, Mr. Lancer." He looked at me sideways and I recognized his are-you-thinking-what-I'm-thinking face. I knew; I gave him an almost imperceptible nod and blink of the eye. The mirror incident occurred in the house, and we were nearly 100 sure it made Danny like this, but how would anyone ever believe us?

Besides, I was not inclined to tell teachers anything. I'm not obliged to spill anything about Danny. I'd defend Danny to the death, but he rarely needs help. Except now...


what do you think of Sam getting all emotional? plausible? in character? Tucker actually maturing like that? it's fall-winter of sophmore year here. i hope i didn't mix anything up, i tend to do that in this type of chapter (hard to explain.) I did try and put more details in, more will come with the next chapter. hopefully. thanks for reading XD