Chapter Seventeen: Starry Accusations

"This is getting ridiculous," Danny said. It'd been almost two weeks since the 'It's not gay if he's dead' shirts went on sale. He leaned against the lockers in defeat, observing the A-Listers as they chewed Mikey out for raising the prices on the shirts.

Someone sighed beside him. "Tell me about it."

Wes stood beside him, impassively glaring at the A-Listers. Dash was holding Mikey two feet above the floor and threatening to shove him in his locker if he didn't lower the prices of the shirts. "Serves him right," Wes muttered under his breath.

While Danny and Wes were still rivals or something (Danny wasn't really sure exactly what Wes thought of him as), they both understood each other's merciless hatred for the trend. Unlike the rest of the school, they still refused to surrender to the fad. If only they knew the true reason...

Before they knew it Dash had walked over to where Danny and Wes were standing with a pessimistic stance. Mikey could be heard in the distance screaming in his locker.

"Hey, Fentucky fried chicken, Phantom-"

"He's Phantom not me," Wes interjected.

"Whatever." Dash pretended to do a mock inspection of their clothes. "I see you two are still too poor to afford to get these shirts."

"Ha!" Kwan said. "I get it! They're poor, that's why they aren't wearing these shirts... it's kind of sad," he added seriously.

"Kwan, I literally just said that." Dash punched his friend in the shoulder. "Just shut up until I tell you to talk."

"Alright," Kwan said dejectedly.

"I can't believe you're calling them poor when you literally just shoved Mikey in a locker so he could lower the prices of your stupid shirts." Sam had appeared beside Danny and Wes. She could be as stealthy as Danny when he was invisible sometimes. "Kinda hypocritical if you ask me."

"Well nobody did ask you, goth freak!" Paulina hissed.

"Just stating the facts," she shrugged.

"And like you have so much money," Star rolled her eyes. "That shirt probably cost more than your entire wardrobe."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Sam smirked as if it was some kind of inside joke.

"Whatever," Star scoffed.

"So, Fentoenail," Dash said to Danny, "are you really going to keep judging Phantom based off of your parents' opinion? I mean, it's clear the reason you won't wear the shirts is because you hate the guy – which is pretty shitty if you ask me."

"I don't hate him," Danny said defensively. "I just don't think he'd appreciate being thought of in that way."

"Or it's because you're Phantom," Wes suggested.

"No one gives a shit, Weston," Dash, Star, and Sam said in unison.

"You know what," Paulina said suddenly, "I think I finally figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Danny asked apprehensively.

"You figured out that I was always right?" Wes asked hopefully.

"The reason that you and Weston don't love Phantom... is that you're in love with each other."

"WHAT!" Wes cried, and inkling of a blush visible on his face. "I'm the only boy in school who doesn't want to bone Fenton!"

"O-kay," Sam said, pushing Wes away, "that's enough from you." She lowered her voice, "Besides, even though it's true, it doesn't give you the right to be screaming it."

The bell rang, and the A-Listers started heading off towards their next classes. Assuming he was out of earshot, Danny groaned, "Why me?"

Star, who heard this, turned to him and shrugged. "It's not your fault that Weston is crazy. You just got unfortunate enough to be apart of his unhealthy ghost delusions."

He stared at her, "Right... crazy. Wes is totally bananas. Wacko."

Star raised an eyebrow, "Why do you seem like you're unsure about that? Wes being crazy, I mean."

"I – um, I'm not," he said weakly.

"Do you have a reason that Wes isn't crazy? That he's actually telling the truth."

"No, that's stupid. Wes can't – Wes has to be crazy. I'm not a ghost."

"But what if it's a cover-up?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "What if you're leading people to think Wes is crazy, when he's actually telling the truth?"

"I don't know what you're talking-"

"What if everything he says about you is true?" Danny's heart raced at her next words, "Are you Phantom, Danny? Are you a ghost?"

He panicked, "Of course not! That's – that's-" he trailed off when he noticed that Star was laughing, hysterically. He looked at her strangely.

"I'm sorry," she wheezed, "I couldn't keep a straight face. I had you convinced, didn't I? We both know Wes is completely nuts, that humans can't be ghosts. I mean, your parents are ghost scientists after all! They'd be able to tell if you were dead."

He gave a feeble laugh, playing along. "I know right? None of it makes sense."

"Well," Star said suddenly, "I better get going Fenton. Pauli's probably wondering where I am."

She walked away quickly, leaving him alone. He breathed in relief. That had been a close one. I thought she actually figured out my secret.

Star was actually smarter than she let on. She had managed to figure everything out, but couldn't believe it. It was pretty ironic looking back. Danny remembered some of the entries from Wes's journal about her, and could see now why he liked her so much. Yeah, she was pretty; that much was obvious. But even if she didn't show it most of the time, Star Evans was probably one of the most intelligent girls in Casper High.

"Wes," Justin said, "you're freaking me out again."

"What now?" he asked. "All I'm doing is standing here!"

"It's not that... it's the shirt," Justin said, leaning against the lockers, gesturing to Wes's outfit.

In opposition to the trend, Wes had made his own t-shirt to try to prove a point. It was white with bold black lettering, 'It IS gay if he's "dead"', complete with the faces of Danny Fenton and Phantom side by side. Wes looked at his shirt, "What's wrong with it? Did I get a stain...?"

"You know that's not what I meant, dumbass," Justin rolled his eyes. "If you keep wearing that, someone's gonna kick your ass."

"It's not like I'm a homophobe," Wes reassured. "That's why I put the disclaimer on the back of the shirt."

Wes turned around, and on the back of the shirt it read 'Being gay's fine, LGBT supporter'.

"Oh," Justin said sarcastically, "that changes everything."

"Danny!" he heard Sam yell somewhere down the hallway. "Where've you been?"

Wes immediately looked up, swinging his bag over his shoulder, ready to investigate Danny's latest crisis. He was about to run down the hall when Justin put a hand on his shoulder. The two of them shared a look for a moment. "No," Justin said firmly. "Wes... Wes! You're not doing this! Don't walk away from me!" But Wes was already gone.

Wes found Danny, Sam, and Tucker standing beside the boys bathroom, with Sam waving her arms and quietly screaming at Danny, "Why didn't you just text us?"

Wes took a second to truly look at Danny and decided that today, he really did look like shit. The most noticeable was the glowing green cut just above his cheek that looked like it had just stopped bleeding (he assumed that it was blood). His clothes were drenched in green goo (that smelled almost like rotten-eggs) and some of it had even gotten in his hair. Looking at Sam, he clenched his teeth, "Well sorry, I didn't expect to be leading a second prison break today. And it doesn't help that the warden still has my phone."

Wes honestly couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

Sam didn't waver for a moment, "What did Walker charge you on this time?"

Danny squinted his eyes shut, trying to remember, "I don't know... Unauthorized flying in private areas of the Ghost Zone or some other BS. Apparently I've wracked up like 7,000 years or something."

Tucker laughed, "Brutal."

"So you're some kind of ghost criminal or something?" Wes blurted out. The trio stared at him, noticing his presence for the first time.

"None of your business, Weston," Sam growled.

Tucker's eyes traveled over Wes's shirt. "Nice shirt," he said. "I think I may want to wear that one instead..."

"Tucker!" Danny protested. "Do you want to blow my secret?"

"I'm just here for the memes."

"Why am I friends with you?" Danny asked rhetorically.

"Because I'm smart and sexy and help you fight ghosts with my cutting edge technology?" he suggested.

"Or it's because no one else will tolerate you," Sam offered.

"Give or take," he admitted.

There were five seconds of silence before all three of them burst into laughter. Wes stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do. Finally, once they had stopped laughing, Danny looked up at Wes, "Why are you still here?"

Wes shrugged. He didn't really have an answer. "I'm trying to prove you're Phantom."

"Oh," Danny said, not the least surprised, "well we have stuff to do. Bye."

He, Sam, and Tucker started walking in the opposite direction. Wes called after him, "Not so fast, ghost-boy!"

A few people glanced at his outburst, but went back to their conversations as usual. Danny didn't even turn around, "Okay, I'll walk moderately paced then."

Wes felt insulted for being simply brushed off like that. He slammed his fist on the lockers, "Why won't you just fess up!"

"Sorry, I can't hear you over your lack of solid proof," he said with a mocking tone, as if he sensed Wes's frustration.

"You're literally covered in ecto goo!"

Danny ran a hand through his green tinted hair. "It's called ectoplasm." He scoffed, "Amateur."

Danny, Sam, and Tucker met after school at the Internet Cafe. It was the only place where they could really play Doom in the same room as each other.

"Y'know," Tucker said, pressing a few commands on the keyboard, "If I can beat you in this level, you have to wear the 'It's not gay if he's dead' shirt."

"Please," Danny smirked, "that's a piece of cake. There'sno way I can lose to you."

"No ghost powers," Tucker added.

"You're on. There's no way that I'm ever wearing that damn shirt."

Five minutes later, Sam had to find the Fenton Thermos to restrain Danny from blasting Tucker halfway across Amity Park.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU HAD NEW CHEAT CODES?"

"Fair's fair, bro," Tucker said slyly, "all I said was no ghost powers."

"And now..." Sam grinned, "you have to wear-"

"No."

"-the shirt."

"Shit."

Danny walked into school the next day, hiding his face in shame. He held his arms over his chest, blocking the shirt. He felt gross. He might as well be wearing a matching shirt and tutu that says 'FUCK ME' in flashing LED lights. What was worse was how the A-Listers purposely drew attention to him. It wasn't fair, Danny Fenton was supposed to be invisible. Why couldn't everyone just ignore him as usual?

"We've finally done it," Mikey wiped a fake tear. "You're one of us."

"Fuck off," he snapped.

"Maybe to Phantom," Mikey said.

Danny put his hand to his mouth. He suddenly felt the need to throw up.

Sam sighed, taking the lunch-seat next to him. "Stop being so over-dramatic. It's only one day."

"Oh yeah?" Danny said, "You still won't wear one."

"Mainly out of respect for you," she crossed her arms, "and the fact that they stole my logo without permission."

Wes probably had the most vocal reaction to seeing Danny wear the shirt. Rather than getting angry, he used it as an excuse to go off on another rant.

"He's Danny Phantom! How are NONE of you seeing this?! Why don't you believe me?" his voiced reverberated throughout the noisy cafeteria.

Danny looked at him sincerely, "I believe you Wes."

Wes screamed in frustration, cracked his knuckles, and stormed out of the cafeteria like he had just been sent off of the set of The Bachelor.

Sam effortlessly stabbed at her salad, "Do you guys ever wonder what he would actually do if someone did figure it out?"

"Who knows?" Tucker asked. "It wouldn't be pretty, that's for sure."

"It'd probably be some kind of pity fest," Sam mused. "The Weston Soap Opera."

"Well, hopefully that never happens," Danny sighed. "For my well-being and his."

"Want to explain why this," Walter held up Wes's homemade shirt ('It IS gay if he's "dead"'), "was in the laundry?"

Wes froze. He'd completely forgot that he'd washed it. He really didn't want to explain. "Can I say no?"

Walter deadpanned, "If you don't tell me anything, I'll probably just jump to the worst conclusion."

He hadn't really explained any of his conspiracy stuff to his Dad yet, and Wes was baffled that Walter really hadn't noticed yet, but it was either fess up or let his Dad think some really weird stuff about him. After all, the shirt had a picture of Fenton and Phantom and had the words 'Being gay's fine, LGBT supporter' written on the back.

"Well, there's this meme going around the school, called 'It's not gay if he's dead', and this is going to sound crazy weird," Wes admitted. "But..." he looked at his Dad's unreadable face.

"Basically, a few months ago I started noticing this guy in my class was acting weird and ditching all the time. I was wondering where he was going, and I happened to remember his parents were ghost hunters, so it crossed my mind that he might've been ghost hunting. As it turns out, he's a pretty well-known ghost hunter: Danny Phantom. He's half-ghost, and can change between looking human and looking ghost and-"

"That's ridiculous," Walter said.

"I know it sounds li-"

"Stop it," Walter placed a hand firmly on Wes's shoulder. "Life isn't some sci-fi novel Wes. I don't know what you think you saw, but there is no such thing as anything between life and death-"

"I never said there was! Half-ghost can be interpreted-"

"You may think me small minded, but I know what I'm talking about. Wes, half-ghosts do not exist. The boy's probably just some skilled illusionist or-"

"Oh, I get it, you don't believe me either! Just like all the shallow kids in my school, blinded by their own pride to suggest something even out of the ordinary. Too blinded by their sheer ignorance to see the truth! Well, maybe you're ignorant, Dad, have you ever considered that? You didn't even fully listen to me before debunking my explanation."

Walter didn't dare to meet Wes's eyes. He knew what Wes was talking about, but he was under orders to lead his son away from the truth. Even though it pained him to do so, he managed to choke out, "That's because there's no such thing as half-ghosts."

That was the final straw for Wes. He punched the arm of the couch, leaving a temporary fist-sized indention. "Stubborn asshole." Wes stormed out of the room.