Author's Introduction:
To put it mildly, Pep Rally Thursday was a bad day for everyone. But one of the most interesting things about a bad day is the day after the bad day. So here it is: The Day After Pep Rally Thursday Friday.
Obligatory disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. I'm running out of witty ways to say that.
Ordinary World
A Danny Phantom fanfiction
Chapter Six: Mad World
All around me are familiar faces
Worn-out places, worn-out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere…
And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very mad world
Mad world…
Mad world…
(Mad World, Tears For Fears)
By the next morning, everyone who had seen Sam smash the mirror had a theory, and those who didn't see it were making theories up.
"I heard that Samantha Manson punched a hole in her locker door!"
"It wasn't her locker, dumbass. It was a first-floor window."
"I heard she needed a hundred and eight stitches!"
Jazz knew that one wasn't true. Sam hadn't needed that many stitches.
"Sam Manson? Isn't she in some kind of gang?"
"No, she's a witch. She was casting a spell and the mirror in her locker broke."
The stories got more and more ridiculous the closer it got to morning bell. In some of them, Sam had been in a knife fight. In others, she had seen a ghost in the mirror and that was why she'd smashed it. Girls were opening their lockers and chanting "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary" all over the first floor. By the time Jazz got to her own locker, "Bloody Mary" had become "Bloody Sammy".
The loudest voice of all was, naturally, Paulina's. "Sam Manson did see a ghost in her mirror," she crowed, "but that was just my hero, Inviso-Bill!" Her eyes grew wide and starry as she told the story. "He saved my life!..."
Tucker was waiting by Jazz's locker. Jazz hadn't even known he knew where it was. He grinned when he spotted her, reholstering his PDA.
"Can you believe this? It's absolute pandemonium in here. I'm taking down some of these stories to show Sam later. She'll get a big kick out of them. The funniest one is the one where she saw 'Inviso-Bill' in the mirror." Tucker used his fingers for quotation marks.
Jazz rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I heard the beginning of that one, but then we sort of segued off into 'Paulina: the Miniseries'."
They both looked over at the girl in question, who was still prattling away to her audience about "Inviso-Bill". "There's something special between us. He didn't say it then, but I know he felt it too—I saw it in his glowing green eyes!" Paulina gushed.
Star broke into the conversation. "That's not what I heard, Paulina! I heard that Inviso-Bill has a thing for Samantha Manson, and she broke her mirror to stop a mirror ghost that's trying to kill him!"
An argument broke out immediately. Jazz turned to Tucker with wide eyes. "Who started that one?"
The techno-geek was grinning slyly and Jazz found her answer in his twinkling eyes. "I can tell stories, too," he said.
Jazz shook her head. "Tuckerrrrrr." And then they were both laughing uncontrollably, clutching their stomachs, tears welling up in their eyes.
Someone tapped Jazz's shoulder, and she turned to see Matt Prescott. "Oh...hey," she said, fighting a blush. She willed herself not to do anything stupid while Tucker was watching.
Matt smiled. "Hey, Jazz. Are you okay? I tried to call you last night, but there was no answer at your house."
Jazz chewed her lip. "Oh...right, sorry. I had to take my brother's friend to the hospital."
Matt sighed. "Yeah, Sam Manson, right? Is she okay?"
"She's going to be fine," Jazz said. "You heard about what happened?"
"I'm..." Matt cast a glance at the hordes of gossiping students in the hall. "I'm not sure," he finished with a chuckle. "As long as she's okay."
Tucker relaxed next to Jazz. For a minute he'd looked unhappy, thinking Matt might contribute to the gossip.
Matt laughed again. "Actually, I heard that Samantha Manson..."
Tucker tensed again. Jazz frowned, waiting for Matt to blow it.
"...is dating your brother Danny, Jazz. Is that true?"
Jazz exchanged glances with Tucker, who held up his hands in a not-it gesture. "Don't look at me, I didn't start that one," he said, but he was grinning. "It's my new favorite, though."
Dr. Strohmann had said that Sam could have come in to school if she'd wanted to, but hours of scanning the hallways for her had given Jazz nothing except a stabbing pain between her eyebrows. She hadn't seen her brother this morning, either—she'd knocked on his door to ask him if he wanted a ride to school, but there was no answer. When she'd turned the knob, the door had opened easily, revealing an empty room. His bed was neatly made, the bedclothes folded in military creases, the damaged bookcase the only evidence of his violent breakdown the night before. The window was open, the autumn breeze sending the curtains rolling in like the surf. A quick inspection of the other rooms in the house yielded nothing. He'd already left.
What Jazz was worried about was when he'd left. She wouldn't have been surprised to learn he'd gone...hunting...after she'd left his room last night. After all, he'd trashed his room trying desperately to create a defeatable opponent. But even ghost kids needed sleep, especially when they were exhausted from stress.
Sam's locker was closed and the broken glass and blood had been cleaned up. Jazz thought it looked deceptively innocent as she walked past.
By the time the cafeteria had stopped serving breakfast, Jazz was considering the fact that her brother might have cut school. Surely he wouldn't have gone to the hospital—they'd said they weren't keeping Sam overnight. And going to her house would be too risky, even for a kid who could turn himself invisible. Sam's parents probably had her on lockdown. They hadn't sounded too happy with her even when they'd gotten into the hospital room and seen the extent of her wounds. They had seemed more upset about the potential for public embarrassment than they were about their daughter's condition.
The bell rang, and Jazz mechanically walked towards her psychology class, alarmed at how fast the day was going. The younger grades would be at lunch already.
She stopped walking abruptly. Kids cut class, they didn't cut lunch. If her brother or Sam were on campus, she'd definitely find them in the cafeteria or the quad. All she'd have to do was see them, know they were all right, and then maybe she could have peace of mind to make it through the rest of the day. She turned on her heel and started jogging towards the cafeteria.
"Jasmine Fenton?" Mr. Worth asked, glancing up from his rollbook at the Only Normal Fenton's chair, which was, for the first time ever, empty.
Jazz had already had a headache even before she'd entered the noisy cafeteria. The dull hum of conversation, forks against plates and chairs scraping along the floor pressed against her like it had weight. She reminded herself that she had Excedrin in her locker and scanned the room for Tucker's red hat. She found it at one of the tables in the back, and her heart seized with relief at the sight of her brother at the same table. Danny was sitting next to Tucker—if you could call it sitting. He was tipped over onto the table, his head pillowed on his arms, eyes closed.
Keeping close to the wall, she made her way over to them. "Tucker," she whispered. "Tuck."
Hearing his name, Tucker blinked bleary eyes and searched for the voice. Seeing Jazz, he brightened. Since he looked so tired, it was of a pretty low wattage, but Jazz was heartened.
"Hey, Jazz," he said, holding a finger up to his lips as she got closer. "Shhh," he added, pointing to Danny. "I don't think he got too much sleep last night. He kept falling asleep in Lancer's class, but we already got detention for being tardy this morning, so it didn't even matter."
Jazz chuckled sadly and dropped to kneel beside the table, out of sight. "Can't you guys go even one day without getting detention?"
Tucker grinned. "Apparently not."
Struck by a sudden though, Jazz asked, "You were tardy this morning?" How could her brother have been late for school? He'd left the house before the sun had come up.
"Yeah," Tucker said. "You know me, I can't get out of bed. I guess that's what happened to Danny, too. He came stumbling in here like a zombie and tried to open Dash's locker. Took him five minutes to realize it wasn't his."
He must have been wandering around all night, Jazz thought. She decided to let it go. It was still Danny's secret. Instead, she looked at the empty chair beside Danny. "No sign of Sam, huh?"
Tucker sighed. "Nope. Danny sneaked out of chemistry to call her on the pay phone, but he got her voice mail. Maybe she's sleeping, or her parents took her phone or something. He's going nuts," Tucker added. "It doesn't help that everyone keeps walking up and asking us about her. It only makes him more upset." Struck by a sudden thought, he frowned. "Speaking of people walking up and asking us about Sam, what are you doing here, Jazz? This isn't even your lunch period."
"Of course it isn't," Jazz said. "I cut class to talk to you."
Tucker's eyes went wide behind his glasses. "You cut class? Wow, Jazz. I didn't know you had it in you! Way to go!"
"Don't congratulate me," Jazz hissed through clenched teeth. "If Lancer catches me, I'll get detention for sure. I just wanted to check on the two of you."
"Jazz, you're really obsessed with this 'my brother's keeper' thing," Tucker said.
"You bet your PDA," Jazz snapped. "In fact, I've decided to keep all his friends, too."
"Incoming!" Tucker said, stalling the argument. "Dash Baxter at twelve o'clock."
"Your clock or my clock?" Jazz hissed, crouching.
"My clock! Quick, hide!"
From her kneeling position. Jazz scuttled under the table. Just in time. She heard Dash smack both his fists down on the table, rattling it to its bolts. "Rise and shine, Fentonowski!"
Danny jumped, kicking Jazz as he did so. "Ow!...Awwwww…"
"Hey Fenton, wakey wakey," Dash said.
"Thanks, Dash," Danny said sincerely. "I was having a nightmare."
Jazz didn't doubt it. She wished she could see his face. This listening-in stuff was useless.
Apparently upset that his intrusion was welcomed, Dash jeered, "So, is it true that Sam Manson almost bled to death yesterday?"
"Get lost, Dash," Tucker interjected. "I'm sure there's a puppy you can kick or a virgin you can despoil somewhere else." Listening to him, Jazz had the feeling Tucker had spent the entire morning fending people off.
Danny sighed. "Sam's right. Being popular totally sucks."
"Being freakish is not the same thing as being popular," Dash sneered.
"I can't tell the difference," Tucker shot back.
"Dash, if I died right now, would you leave me alone?" Danny sounded weary.
"I don't know. Let's find out," Dash said.
Jazz winced, waiting for the sounds of a beating.
"Fine, hit me," Danny sighed. "Keep to the right side of my face if you can. I like my left side better."
Silence, then Dash snorted in disgust. "Well, it's no fun if you don't care."
"Hit me, or don't, Dash, so I can go back to sleep," Danny said.
"Jesus Christ, you are depressed." Dash stalked off. "Screw you, Fenton. Call me when you cheer up!" he called over his shoulder.
Silence for a moment.
"What the hell just happened?" Tucker asked.
"Who cares? He's gone." Danny kicked Jazz again. "There's something under here." He pushed his chair back to look. "Jazz?"
"Long story," Jazz sighed.
"Oh my god," Danny groaned, letting his head fall back to the table. "I don't want to know. I don't want to know because you might actually tell me."
A pair of expensive sneakers padded past the table. "Hi, guys." Valerie Gray's voice.
"Um...hi?" Tucker asked, surprised at the greeting.
"Hey, Val." Danny sounded more tired with every hello he returned.
She laughed, a rich root-beer sound. "Don't get me wrong, normally I'd be pleased as punch that your friend Sam isn't in school today, but I don't blame her. If I saw that ghost kid in my mirror, I'd have tried to punch him out, too." Her voice took on a hard edge when she spoke of the "ghost kid".
Jazz wanted to hug her brother, but she couldn't for a few reasons, the two biggest of which were: a) he didn't know she knew his secret; b) she was still hiding under the table.
"Could you at least pretend to be nice?" Tucker asked wearily. "I don't know if you noticed, Val, but being nasty to us is not going to make you popular again. Paulina and Dash are making fun of you for even standing here." Tucker pointed across the lunchroom.
"Look, Valerie's hanging out with her new loser friends!" Dash called.
Val stomped a sneakered foot. "They're not my friends. I was just extending my sympathies for Sam Manson."
"She didn't die, Val," Danny yelled. Jazz wished he wouldn't pound his fists on the table. No one was listening to him anyway.
"Who cares about Samantha Manson anyway?" Paulina said, shrugging haughtily. "Big deal. The little goth hurt her little hands! As soon as they heal up she'll just turn invisible again." The pretty girl tittered.
"Fenton cares," Dash said, jerking a thumb in Danny's direction. "Fenton and the goth are practically joined at the hip."
"Please! All I have to do is walk by and he forgets all about her." Paulina swung her shoulders and got out of her chair.
From her low vantage point, Jazz saw as well as heard the high heels coming their way. Uh oh. She tugged on Danny's pant leg, trying to get his attention.
"Hi, Danny," Paulina said sweetly. Too late.
"Hey, Paulina." Danny sounded tired, as though he couldn't muster up enough enthusiasm for an event that would once have put him over the moon—Paulina acknowledging him.
Paulina wasn't satisfied, apparently. "Hey, loser, I'm talking to you."
Even after that, Danny tried to be polite. "I'm sorry, Paulina, I'm just a little spaced-out today."
That was an understatement.
The apology came too late. Instead of honey, Paulina's voice now dripped with venom. "Aww, what's the matter, Danny-boy? Sad because your little freak girlfriend isn't in school today?"
Danny's anger was apparent in his voice. "She's not a freak," he said.
Jazz noticed he hadn't said "She's not my girlfriend" the way he usually did.
"Don't you have an elsewhere to be?" Tucker asked, even though it hadn't worked with Dash. "You could go outside and think about what the clouds look like."
Jazz was impressed that the boys were suddenly in no mood for Paulina's antics. She wished Sam were there to hear it!
"And then there were two," Paulina trilled, ignoring Tucker. Jazz could see her rubbing her fists near her eyes to pantomime crying. "Boo hoo. Maybe the mental hospital has visiting hours and you two can go see her after school!"
"That does it," Danny said, and Jazz heard him push his chair back from the table. Tucker almost immediately followed it with, "Don't do anything stupid, Danny!"
"Good one, Foley," Paulina jeered. "You guys do everything stupid!"
"Shut up, Paulina," Jazz shrieked, crawling out from under the table, forgetting that this wasn't her lunch period, forgetting that she had cut class to talk to Danny and Tucker, forgetting everything but how upset she was.
Paulina looked surprised that Jazz had suddenly appeared like a magician's assistant at the end of the trick, then her face relaxed into amusement. "Oh, no, you didn't. You did not just tell me to shut up."
"Then I guess you didn't hear me. I'll have to say it again," Jazz snarled. "Shut…up."
"Jazz," Danny said, his voice a mixture of warning and weariness. "Just leave it alone."
But Jazz couldn't leave it alone. Enough, as they said, was enough.
"Who do you think you are?" Paulina asked.
"Forget about me, we're talking about you. Because it's always about you, isn't it? My brother's friend was hurt yesterday and you made fun of her while she was still bleeding! She's not in school today and all you care about is how attention was diverted from you for fifteen seconds." Jazz pointed her left forefinger at Paulina like a pistol. "You're disgusting!"
Paulina whipped her head around, searching for the nearest weapon. A nearby freshman's frozen yogurt presented itself to her and she pitched it at Jazz, who grabbed Tucker's empty tray to block. The yogurt bounced harmlessly off the tray and skittered to the floor, bleeding strawberry flavoring and artificial sweetener.
That was all Kwan needed to see. Jumping onto his chair, he yelled, "Food fight!"
The cafeteria erupted in edible violence and Jazz crawled back under the nearest table. From the floor, she saw Danny and Tucker running to the quad, out of the line of fire. She snorted, but forgave them for it. They'd just stood up for Sam in front of the entire school's dream girl—they'd been brave enough for one day.
Back to the task at hand. If she followed the table the length of the room, she could sneak back into the hallway without getting in trouble or messing up her clothes—both seemed equally unappealing. Of all the days to wear her Miss Sixty jeans.
As she came out from under the table, she saw her own reflection in a pair of shiny wing-tips. Heart sinking, she raised her head to see Lancer.
"Hi, Mr. Lancer." It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt everything out, but she knew it wouldn't get her anywhere. In the end, it would be her word against Paulina's, and the Casper High Students wouldn't betray their queen.
As it turned out, they didn't have to. Lancer revealed he'd heard the whole thing. "Touching speech, Jazz. Excellent use of psychoanalysis. And since we're on the subject of psychology, my schedule printouts say that's the class you're supposed to be in right now." He smiled at her, and
Jazz let her head drop to the floor.
And that was how the Only Normal Fenton got her first-ever detention.
What had once seemed like a worst-case scenario to her actually wasn't so bad, but she had company—Danny and Tucker were there for their early-morning tardy, throwing erasers at the clock to try to make it skip a minute and passing notes to each other. Kwan was there too—he'd gotten stuck with responsibility for the cafeteria food fight and wore the badges proudly on his letter jacket. Jazz could make out at least three mustard stains.
Tucker unwrapped a Mars bar and divided it into three pieces, sliding Jazz the biggest piece. Jazz accepted the treat silently, saying thank-you with her eyes.
At three o'clock, Lancer leaned back in his chair. "Okay, halftime. The tardies and cuts, including Mr. Foley and the two-for-one Fenton Special, can leave. The restroom smokers and cafeteria condiment warriors are mine for another half hour."
Kwan groaned. Tucker handed him the box of erasers to throw at the clock.
"Thanks, Foley," Kwan chuckled.
"Hope your aim is better with those than with ketchup," Tucker quipped.
Half of the detentionees jammed up the doorway, nearly running over someone who was trying to get in. When the portal cleared, Sam was standing there with her hand still poised to knock, looking delightfully normal—for Sam, anyway—in a black plaid skirt and a black camisole. Her combat boots were on her feet, her collar was around her throat, and her cuffs were buckled over her bandages.
"Mr. Lancer?" she asked. "You said I could come pick up my assignments."
"Ah, Ms. Manson. Good to have you with us again. Although I'm sure I'll be seeing you here in detention the traditional way by next week." He handed her a stack of papers and a copy of Anna Karenina. "Don't think that little stunt you pulled in the hallway gets you out of discussing chapters one through five on Monday."
Sam rolled her eyes. "Little stunt? Sir, I'm crushed. I thought it at least a medium-sized stunt."
Lancer turned to Jazz with a weight-of-the-world sigh. "Please, take her with you."
"Sam!" Danny exclaimed as soon as they were in the safety of the hallway, pouncing on his friend and wrapping her in a huge hug.
"Wow," Sam laughed, sliding her arms around him to return the hug. "Did somebody miss me? I was only gone for the day."
"I'm so glad you're okay," Danny said, squeezing her tighter, lifting her off her feet in his excitement, then letting her back down again. "I was so worried."
Blushing, Sam leaned back in his embrace to tap him on the nose with a bandaged hand. "Dork. I'm fine."
They stared at each other shyly for a second, then Tucker broke the moment as usual. "Don't hog Sam, Danny. It's my turn." He attacked Sam with a hug of his own. "Sam, have you heard all the stories? I saved some on my PDA in case you missed them. You're a total celebrity."
"Yeah, right," Sam laughed, stepping back.
"My turn," Jazz said, leaning forward to hug Sam. "I have a feeling you don't get enough of these."
Sam smiled and hugged back, careful of Matt Prescott's camera, which was around Jazz's neck. "Psychoanalysis aside, thanks for everything, Jazz."
Jazz shrugged. "What are big sisters for, anyway?"
She let them walk a little bit ahead of her, smiling at the unconscious staging—the boys had flanked Sam so they could both walk next to her, each taking some of her books out of her hands to carry themselves.
"And you missed a lot of really boring lesson plans while you were out," Danny was saying. "Lancer made us read. Out loud."
Sam laughed, bumping Danny with her shoulder. "It can't be worse than the time he made us do Shakespeare in class."
"What are you talking about, Sam? I thought you made a great Macbeth. And Danny was an absolutely stunning Lady Macbeth." Tucker chuckled.
"Someone forgets their show-stopping performance as Kate in The Tucker of the Shrew," Danny teased.
"I should have been Lady Macbeth," Sam pouted, remembering.
"Okay, so reading aloud in class is a bad thing. But you also missed Salisbury steak," Tucker pointed out. "And for you, Sam, that is a good thing."
"It was a good thing for Tucker, too, he ate your share," Danny laughed.
"Lancer is such a beast," Sam said, looking at Anna Karenina. "It's not fair. Everyone else got to read this in class. It's not my fault my parents made me stay home."
"What'd they say to you?" Danny asked softly.
Sam shrugged. "It wasn't so bad. I stayed in bed mostly, pretended to sleep so they'd leave me alone. Everyone's sort of careful around me; I think they think I'm going to shove my fists into the toaster next."
"Are they worried for you, or for the toaster?" Danny asked.
Sam shrugged. "It's from Denmark," she said, which was her usual explanation regarding any actions involving the toaster. "They didn't want to let me go pick up my assignments in person, but I wanted to see you guys."
"And boy, are we glad to see you." Danny smiled, then arched a brow. "But you didn't come until three. What made you so sure we'd be in Lancer's detention?"
Sam grinned. "It's Friday, Danny. Where else would you two be?"
"Oh, shut up, Sam," Tucker said, but he was laughing. "If you hadn't missed school, you'd have been right in there with us."
Danny was in the lead as they walked out into the late afternoon sunlight, so he was the one who nearly got knocked over by a panicky Valerie as she ran towards the double doors. When he realized who was in front of him, he instinctively stepped to the side, shielding Sam. His look was not friendly. Tucker, meanwhile, seemed mesmerized by the way Valerie's amazing pneumatic chest was moving from lack of air.
"Fenton! Just who I was looking for," Valerie said, then noticed Sam behind him. "Hey, Sam, you're alive. Guess this means I won't be sending flowers."
Sam gave Danny a confused look. He shook his head at her to mean, no big deal. "What do you want, Val?" he asked.
"I'm glad you asked that," Valerie said, snapping her fingers. "Danny, remember that time you filled in for our mascot?"
Danny obviously remembered, because he winced. "No. No way. Forget it."
"Oh, right...the football game," Tucker said. "I almost forgot! Are they getting killed?" he added gleefully.
"They're getting slaughtered." Val clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please, Danny? Candace's elbow hit Jeffrey in the mouth on the way down from her basket catch. They can't even find his teeth and we need the mascot for the halftime show!"
"Forget it!" Danny repeated. "I just got my teeth the way I like them—in my mouth."
"Danny—"
Almost chuckling at how easy this was going to be, the Only Normal Fenton once again stepped in. "Danny! How could you be so insensitive! You promised you'd walk Sam home!"
Danny looked blank for a second, then caught Jazz's fly. "That's right," he said, turning to Val. "Sam and I are going home. Sorry, Val." He walked past her, leading Sam by the hand and throwing a wink back at Jazz.
"What would they do without me?" Jazz murmured to herself.
"Wait!" Valerie cried. "What am I going to do? I can't go back on that field without a replacement mascot!"
Jazz opened her mouth to suggest something, but Tucker stopped her with a grin. "Leave this one to me." Tucker deposited his share of Sam's books in Danny's arms and offered his hand to Val. "Tucker Foley at your service."
"Agggh." Valerie grabbed two fistfuls of her hair. "If they know I let Bad Luck Tuck on the field, we'll lose for sure."
"They're going to lose anyway! They lose every year!" Tucker retorted. "And right now I'm all you've got."
Valerie looked back at Danny and Sam, who were watching this exchange with smiles on their faces. "He's got a point, Val," Sam trilled.
"And he sure does look good in that raven suit," Danny added helpfully, giving Tucker a thumbs-up.
"Ugh." Valerie turned back to Tucker. "Okay, Foley, you're up. I really appreciate you doing me this favor."
Tucker smirked. "Favor? Who said anything about doing you a favor? I expect full payment for my services as a punching bag for two football teams and a cheerleading squad!"
Jazz's eyes went wide in appreciation of Tucker's cleverness. Meanwhile, Danny and Sam were snickering.
Valerie had the helpless look of an animal caught once more in the trap from which it had escaped. "Name your price, you fiend."
Tucker seemed proud of being referred to as a "fiend". "I pick you up after the game, we hit the post-party at the Nasty Burger. I'll even buy you a Mighty Meaty Cheesy Melt."
Valerie shook her head, but she gave him a grudging smile. "Pretty good hustle, Foley. All right, meet me in the gym and we'll get you suited up." She went into the building.
"The things I do for love," Tucker sighed. "Man, I'm really going to earn this."
"And I get to record it all on a thirty-six exposure roll," Jazz quoted wickedly, holding up Matt's camera. "I should stick around anyway and give this back to Matt after the game."
"Aw, maaaaaan!" Tucker whined.
"I'm staying for the game, Danny," Jazz called. "Are you and Sam going to be all right?"
But Danny and Sam were already headed off in the direction of home, one of his hands holding her books and the other wrapped carefully around her bandaged fingers. They hadn't even heard her.
"Don't you know, Jazz?" Tucker asked. "They're going to be just fine."
Another one of the things Jazz liked about Matt Prescott was that he was the kind of guy who'd walk a girl to her doorstep.
"Are you sure you didn't want to stick around for more of the party?" Jazz asked.
"Nah," Matt said. "I was getting sick from all those Nasty Burgers."
"Should have gone with the Mighty Mini Meaty Cheesy Melt. Great taste, less filling," Jazz said, smiling at him. "And you didn't have to pay for my stuff. That was really nice of you."
"It was really nice of you to come to the game," he said. "And to help me out with the yearbook photos. I saw you getting some terrific ones of the mascot getting tied to the goalpost." He laughed. "That poor bastard."
"Don't feel bad for Tucker," Jazz giggled. "You saw him torturing Valerie Gray at the Nasty Burger, asking her to play doctor with him."
"Yeah." Matt's smile was electric. "What about you? You like to play doctor?"
Jazz blushed at the implications of that statement and returned the favor. "I like to play psychiatrist. But it's almost as good—I have a really comfy couch."
"Maybe I should make an appointment," Matt said.
"Well, you know how to reach the front desk." That was enough innuendo for one night—she had to get inside before she melted into a puddle of estrogen. "I better get inside. But thanks for everything."
"Thank you, Jazz. Had a great time," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek before heading down the steps. "Good night."
"Night!" In the dark of the entryway, she allowed herself a smile, then tried to calm down before she went further into the house. She didn't want anyone to notice and tease her.
But the house was darkened and silent as she padded into the living room. There were no sounds of machinery or carnage coming from the lab; most likely her parents were out of the house.
She found Danny sprawled out on his back on the carpet. Sam was curled up nearly perpendicular to him, her head pillowed on his stomach, face turned towards his. One of her hands clutched Danny's shirt, still thickly bandaged so it was hard to notice the contrast of white on white. Both were fast asleep, breathing deeply.
Anna Karenina lay forgotten on the floor beside them, open to the first chapter. The print seemed to jump off the page at Jazz as she stared.
"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."
Jazz nudged the book closed with her toe and wondered how much reading they'd gotten done before they'd conked out. Not that she blamed them—it had been a long week for everyone. Still, she wasn't sure how happy her parents would be to find Sam and Danny sleeping cuddled together, no matter how innocent it was. She should wake them, she thought.
She frowned, remembering the stony faces of the Mansons in the hospital hallway as they refused to allow Danny to see Sam. The poor kids just wanted to be close, and the whole world seemed to want to keep them apart, whether it was little things like Paulina and parents or big things like ghosts and open wounds.
There was a stillness to the room as Jazz circled them, wondering if Sam's parents knew she had come over. They had reportedly grounded her for the stunt in the hallway and probably wouldn't be happy to know she was at the Fentons'. If they even noticed she was gone—who could tell, with those head cases.
She should wake them, she thought. Then they'd blush at each other the way they always did, spring apart as though it burned them to touch. They'd laugh nervously and make up some flimsy story about how they lost track of time and fell asleep cuddled together.
Danny sighed in his sleep, one of his hands smoothing Sam's hair.
And then as silently as she had come in, Jazz left the room, unable to stop a smile from creeping across her lips as she took one last look at her baby brother and his best friend.
Sometimes you just had to let them sleep.
Author's Notes:
This chapter opens with the Tears For Fears song "Mad World", which can be found on the album "The Hurting" and can also be heard sung by Gary Jules in the incredible film "Donnie Darko". If anyone's interested in a warped view on Donnie and 80s music, I wrote a piece after I graduated college called "Wasting My Time, You're Just Wasting Time" that ended up on the Metaphilm web site, (smiles.) Metaphilm's a terrific site, full of interesting things, and last I heard my film professor was working with the Metaphilm editor on a book of similar film analysis.
The toaster from Denmark appears in the episode "Attack of the Killer Garage Sale". I loved that joke and couldn't resist adding it in this chapter.
My creative writing teacher back in college always assigned Anna Karenina, every semester, to any class she taught. She said it was the best book ever written. I have to disagree; I never finished it because I found it so tawdry and overdramatic. However, there are two interesting things about Anna Karenina—that first line that Jazz reads, and the fact that it was originally a serial in a magazine. Ever the editor, Tolstoy would go down to the printers and rearrange the type before it went to press, burning his hands and smearing them with ink.
At this point I'd like to say a sincere, heartfelt thank-you to everyone who's read this story. All that's left now is a couple of epilogues and I can put a bullet in this one. I had a great time writing this, and I only hope everyone's had as much fun as I have with it!