Chapter Thirteen: Wes's New Bestie

Two days. All Wes asked for was two stress-free days before Thanksgiving break, but no. The universe decided that it was completely ready to dish out whatever hell it cooked up right then and there. It started when one of the A-Listers thought they'd be clever and sabotage the movie Lancer had queued up for them to watch that morning with footage of Phantom fighting that warden ghost. Apparently the video of the fight was all over the Internet, and everyone had something to say about 'one of the most epic ghost battles caught on camera'.

At first, the video of Danny kicking some ghost ass had left Mr. Lancer's class ecstatic. That was... until Lancer realized that what was being shown on the screen was not in fact Fahrenheit 451, but the latest of Phantom's ghost fights.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lancer gestured to the screen, that was currently zoomed in on Danny while he made some 'witty' remark. "Which one of you delinquents replaced my movie with this?"

Nobody spoke. It was like the room was frozen, and the entire room was torn between trying to avoid Lancer's fury or focus on the video of Phantom in the background. A few girls whispered 'go Phantom!' when he was shown kicking Walker in the face. Wes wanted to repeatedly bang his head against his desk, but refrained from doing so. Eventually Lancer caught on that some of his students were still focused on the video rather than him, so he paused the video.

"I want an answer, now. Which one of you did this?"

There was silence once again, as no one dared to confess. With every passing second, Lancer continued to grow more irritable. It didn't feel like anyone was going to come forward, but Wes had his eye on Kwan and one of the more quiet nerds, Ricky, who seemed to be having some kind of staring argument. Finally, Ricky looked away from Kwan and met eyes with Mr. Lancer.

"I – I did it, Mr. – Mr. Lancer," the boy stuttered.

Mr. Lancer's attitude seemed to completely flip. Ricky was one of his best students, basically the teacher's pet. It took almost everyone aback that he confessed to actually doing it. And strangely enough, he wasn't even that much of a hardcore Phantom fan in the first place. But Wes, with a few others were able to read in between the lines. Kwan had forced him into confessing for him, blackmail probably.

"Ricky, what on Earth possessed you to replace Fahrenheit 451 with that ghost fighting garbage?"

At that there were a number of protests from various students that Phantom's epic battle, was not and would never be garbage. Funnily enough, Wes noticed that Danny was laughing at the antics of his fans. Jerk.

"I – I don't know," Ricky said. "It was cool I guess. That's why."

"Besides," Star leaned back in her seat, "that movie's bor-ing. If you want to see someone burning books, there's a part in the fight where the ghost cop destroys a bookstore."

Lancer's eye twitched, but he brushed it off. "Enough commentary Ms. Evans. Mr. Marsh, go to the Principal's office, right now."

Ricky's cheeks turned pink, "I – uh, don't know where that is."

Lancer sighed, "I'll take you there, then. As for everyone else," he turned to the class, "I expect order in my classroom until I get back."

As soon as he walked out of the door with Ricky, the class launched into a full blown discussion about Phantom. As usual, he was promptly ignored by everyone. Everybody knew that trying to talk to him about Phantom was like poking a bear with a stick. Once you got Wes started, there was no turning back. You would get charts and evidence thrown in your face about how the town's hero was secretly the dorky son of Amity's ghost hunters who always ran off because he was too afraid of the ghosts. Even though his reputation was less than salvageable, Wes had no regrets.

"He's just so dreamy..." sighed a red-headed girl wistfully.

"'Dreamy'? What is this? The 1960s?" replied her friend. "I'm pretty sure that you mean that Phantom is hot as fuck."

"Hmm, I wonder if he's from the '60s," Star said. "Nobody really knows how long he's been dead. I mean, he could be eons old."

"Or maybe," Wes muttered under his breath, "he's still alive and fooling all of you bitches."

"I wonder if they had knights when he was alive," breathed Paulina. "That would explain why he's so brave!"

Tucker snorted, "Danny the knight in shining armor alright."

"Have you ever thought about riding into a ghost battle on horseback, Danny?" Sam asked.

"Shut up," said boy replied, smiling slightly.

"I wonder how old Phantom was when he died," Star pondered. "I mean, we've all assumed that he's our age, but what if he just looks really young. Like that one actor from The Maze Runner."

"I wouldn't care," Paulina said. "I'd love him no matter what."

"Even if he's the nerd sitting two seats across from you?" Wes muttered again.

"Yeah," Star said in response to Paulina, "but if you had to guess, how old would you say he is?"

Paulina thought for a moment, "Probably somewhere around seventeen."

"I always thought he looked younger than that," spoke another girl. "Maybe thirteen or fourteen. You have to admit it, but he's kinda prepubescent. Still hot though."

That went on for a while. All of the girls in the class launched a debate on how old Phantom was when he died. Wes tried to butt in so he could point out the obvious truth, but everyone simply talked over him when he tried to speak. Finally, after Paulina wrapped up her speech on why Phantom was definitely seventeen because their horoscopes aligned with the color of Britney Spears music or some nonsensical shit, Danny looked over at Wes and smirked.

"Say, Wes," Danny leaned on his desk, "how old do you think Phantom is? I'm guessing fifteen."

Before Wes had the chance to punch him in the face, Paulina heard this and scoffed.

"Please, Fenton. What the hell do you know about Phantom? You've never been around during a ghost attack. I see him all the time, and we're practically boyfriend and girlfriend now. You know nothing."

Danny shrugged, "I guess you're right, I do know nothing about Phantom. I've never even seen him in person, I've just seen him in the videos because I'm terrified of ghosts. Isn't that right Wes?"

Wes couldn't help it anymore. All his concealed frustration bubbled to the surface... and he just screamed. And Wes had to misfortune to scream, the exact moment Lancer opened the classroom door. Wonderful.

After Wes's detention, he made his way to the Nasty Burger with his camera as usual. Most days that's where he found Danny and his friends hanging out between ghost attacks, and today wasn't any different. The three of them were laughing over something in their usual booth in the middle of the restaurant. Wes sat across the room, sipping his Nasty triple-chocolate milkshake as he stared them down. He guessed that they probably knew he was watching them, but were too smug to confront him. Well... one of these days their blind trust in his incompetence to gain dirt on them was going to come to an end. He would prove to the world that Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were the same person, no matter what it-

Wes was broken from his reverie when Valerie sat in the seat across from him. He raised an eyebrow in confusion; he knew for a fact that her shift wasn't supposed to be over until 8. So why the hell was she sitting with him?

"I told you to drop the fake obsession with Danny," she said coldly.

"It's not a fake obsession," Wes was quick to respond. "I'm just... watching him."

"For what?" Valerie asked. "Are you still trying to use him as an alibi? You're trying to convince people that Danny is Phantom, instead of you. Might I remind you, that it's completely pointless trying setting up fake evidence that Danny is a ghost, because you don't even need an alibi. Nobody knows about half-ghosts besides me, and Mr. Masters, therefore-"

Wes was taken by surprise, "What about Mr. Masters? You mean, Vlad Masters?"

Valerie was giving him that look again. The confused one where she assumed he knew more than he did because he was Phantom, when in reality he didn't know jack-shit. "Yeah, I mean Vlad Masters," she said as it was the most obvious fact in the world. "You're the one who tried telling me about him, remember? Have you already forgotten about that time we formed a truce to save your cousin from his fruit-loopy plans?"

"Uh..." Wes trailed off nervously. "No?"

Valerie continued, "Well, after you left, I went back to his mansion and I saw him, well... you know. That was when I realized that you were right the entire time, and that Vlad was using me."

Wes's mouth was suddenly dry, "Well, I'm glad you figured that out. But uh... I'm confused, how exactly does Vlad know about half-ghosts?"

She gave him the look again, but this time it was more concerning than disbelief, "Wes, did you hit your head while fighting earlier?"

He gave a sheepish grin, "Something like that."

All of a sudden, Valerie's watch started beeping like crazy and Wes noticed that across the room, Danny had started looking around frantically. He figured that it was probably a good time to get the camera out. After all, the best way to predict when a ghost attack was about to occur was by watching the ghost hunters, considering that all of them were terribly paranoid.

He and Valerie shared a look before she ran out of the restaurant as fast as she could, presumably to put on her gear in the alley. Danny, on the other hand, ran to the bathroom and seconds later Wes noticed a black and white blur shooting out of the wall. As Wes gripped his camera, pushing past a very determined Sam, the first explosion happened. The patrons in the restaurant spared a glance at the windows, seeing Valerie fly by on her jet-sled before returning to normal chatter. Only in Amity Park.

Finally outside, Wes started taking a hailstorm of pictures. He got as close to the fight as he could, making his presence painfully obvious (yet, Valerie failed to notice him). The two of them were fighting a green-skinned ghost with a flop of blonde hair and striped pink pajamas that seemed to have a special aggression with snowballs. At some point during the fight, Danny reassured Valerie that he had the ghost covered and that she could go back her job, and he heard her grumble as she flew away, "Could've told me that when we were sitting together in the Nasty Burger, Weston."

Unfortunately, the wind from her jet-sled threw Wes off balance, and he accidentally dropped his camera and it slid across the concrete directly underneath Danny and the weird pajama ghost. Fuck, he paid $60 bucks for this new camera, his Dad would kill him if it broke. He scrambled towards it, completely ignoring the stray misfires and falling ice shards around him. Finally, the camera was back in his hands, somehow unscathed. Success! Or, at least he thought it was success. Seconds later, Danny screamed, "Watch out!" The next thing Wes knew, Danny had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and flew him away from the other ghost.

"What the hell are you thinking!?" Danny roared, casually throwing an ectoblast towards his opponent.

Wes crossed his arms, "I'm getting proof, you dick! What do you think I'm doing?"

"Oh, I don't know," Danny dodged a snowball, "it kind of looked like you were about to get yourself impaled by an icicle."

"Well at least if I'm injured, then it's more dirt on you, Fenton!"

"Are you saying that you would've liked me to let you get hurt?" he put a shield between him and the pajama ghost. "God, you are fucking crazy."

"Oh yeah!?" Wes yelled. "You're just-"

"WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND?"

"Klemper," Danny's eyes glowed in irritation, "can't you see we're having a conversation here?"

"BE MY FRIEND!"

Wes cringed, "What's his problem?"

Danny's focus returned to Wes, and in that moment something changed in the ghost boy's glare. He looked between the green-skinned specter and Wes and smirked. Oh God. That was his 'I'm gonna fuck with Wes today' smirk. This wasn't going to end well, for anyone.

"You know what, Klemper?" Danny smiled, his white bangs falling perfectly into place, "I think we can resolve this. I know someone – not me – that will be your friend."

The other ghost stopped, looking at Danny curiously, "Friend?"

Danny gestured at Wes, sporting a crazy expression that could only haunt his nightmares. "Klemper... meet your new bestie!"

"That was a little harsh, don't you think, Danny?" Sam wondered.

"Please, Klemper is harmless to his friends. Sure, he doesn't actually look like it, but he's really smart."

"Uh, dude," Tucker chimed in, "what're you talking about? I thought Klemper was as dumb as they got."

"Nah, it's the opposite. His obsession is friendship, right?"

"Yeah," Sam said, "and whenever someone doesn't want to be friends with him, he fights them. So if Wes rejects Klemper, there's a big chance Klemper will hurt him, right?"

"Nope," Danny said. "The only people Klemper fights are us. Well and he helped us with Pariah, I guess. But as a ghost, he knows that the easiest way to appeal to someone's friendship is to use their obsession to his advantage. I heard that when he was trying to be friends with Ember, he chanted her name, because her obsession feeds off of her fame."

"So how does that explain why he fights us?" Tucker wondered.

"Because he thinks my obsession is fighting," Danny mimicked punching something.

A look of dawning came across the two humans. "Oohh."

"He thinks that I enjoy fighting, so to become friends with me, he fights me. I don't enjoy it, but it's a little thoughtful? I mean, really my obsession is protecting, potayto potahto."

"So... what does that mean for Wes?" Sam returned to her original query.

"He's perfectly safe. Since he doesn't have an obsession, Klemper will probably just follow him around and try to do what he thinks Wes likes."

"In other words, you picked a pretty much benevolent ghost to follow Wes around."

"Yep. I'm not a psychopath, jeez. Who do you think I am? I spend my spare time protecting the city."

"I mean... sometimes with Wes, you get a little..." Tucker trailed off.

Danny raised an eyebrow. "A little what?"

"Cocky."

"Yeah, probably. I'd never let him get hurt on purpose, though."

Wes sat on his bed, rocking back and forth and clutching his ears. He just wouldn't leave. Is this what losing the will to live felt like? He hoped so... he just wanted him to go away already, no matter what it took.

It all had happened so fast; Klemper had captured him in a lung-crushing hug, muttering about friendship and eternal pinky promises while Danny vanished without a trace. The ghost had followed him home, and seemed to ignore all of Wes's protests and threats to leave him alone. His Dad was off on some trip again with Vlad (the morning before Walter had exclaimed something about Arizona and profits before running out of the apartment like a madman), so the two of them were home alone.

It was driving him crazy.

For one thing, Klemper wouldn't stop hugging him, or trying to give him 'brotherly kisses' as he put it. Wes didn't have any siblings, but he was pretty sure that there was nothing 'brotherly' about that. He also wouldn't stop singing (he was pretty sure Les Misérables was way out of the dude's range), and when Wes asked him to be quiet – he started sobbing. Oh, and every time he started crying, it started snowing in a fifteen foot radius. Not to mention, when he was left without supervision, Klemper would start going through all of Wes's belongings so they could 'share'. (Did all ghosts like looking through Wes's room?) And don't even get him started on the bathroom... that ghost had no boundaries.

Somewhere around his third hour of enduring Klemper's torture, Wes got the idea to call someone to help get rid of him. Unfortunately, there wasn't many people Wes could go to for help. Valerie wouldn't help him, because she assumed that he was a ghost hunter. Danny and his friends couldn't help him, because they're the ones who got him into this mess in the first place. He couldn't go to the Guys In White, because they're a 'secret government organization' and therefore have no public contacts. That left only one option... the Fentons.

Pushing down a sense of defeat, Wes dialed their home number, and waited until the person he wanted to hear least picked up.

"Hey Wes," Danny said through the phone, "how's it going with your new very bestest friend for life? Well, technically afterlife, but you know what I mean."

Wes grit his teeth, "How'd you know it was me calling?"

"Caller ID," replied the ghost boy. "Ever since that time you texted me in class, I added your number to the home phone. Anyway... whatchu doing? Are you guys braiding each other's hair yet?"

"Go to hell."

"I kinda tried that, but I screwed up so now I'm just half-dead." Wes could imagine Danny shrugging as he spoke. "So... why're you calling? You never said."

"I was calling your parents."

"Oh... I get it now. You were gonna beg them to send Klemper back to the Ghost Zone."

"Not really. I was gonna ask them to kill the sumbitch."

"That'd be a little redundant, don't you think?" Danny laughed. "Anyway, Mom's cooking spaghetti tonight, so I gotta go. Bye, stalker – I mean, Wes."

"You-" Danny hung up.

Wes set down the phone and noticed Klemper staring at him with wide eyes. He groaned, "What now?"

"You said some very mean things on the talking device. I haven't heard that many mean words since Johnny kissed Ember in front of Kitty." Klemper hesitated. "Is my bestie alright?"

"Yeah," Wes said, slightly confused about the Johnny comment. "I was just talking to this complete asshole who ruined my life. Nothing new."

"Who is this – um, butthole?" Klemper consoled Wes.

"Phantom."

"The ghost-boy?"

"The one and only," Wes sighed.

Klemper's usual laid-back expression stiffened, "I try to make the ghost boy my friend, but no matter how much I fight him he never wants to be my friend. It makes me upset."

And that was how Wes and Klemper ended up in a friendly discussion about how frustrating Danny could be. The two of them talked for at least three hours, until Wes finally fell asleep in his computer chair. The boy might not remember it in the morning, but Klemper picked him up, and phased him into his bed. After all, what else are ghost besties for?

Ghost Besties, a book by Tucker Foley