I missed Thursday's update! I was traveling, so this one is a little late. I made it nice and long! But the next chapter should be up this coming Thursday. That will be the (temporary) schedule for the rest of this arc!

-Song

FRIDAY

Tucker woke Friday morning with his phone in his hand and on 30% of its battery. He scolded himself internally for not plugging it in the night before.

His head hurt. He'd stayed up too late staring at his phone, first dozing off and then waking himself to see if Sam had texted back, and then passing out entirely. He checked his phone again that morning, but there was no text from Sam.

He felt his heart sink just a little.

First-hour calculus was going to ruin him with little to no sleep, but Tucker pulled himself out of bed anyway.

No shower, a clean shirt, a pair of jeans, and a full backpack later, Tucker was running down the stairs two at a time in order to make sure that he didn't miss his bus.

His father was already off to work, but his mother was in her purple scrubs, pouring herself a thermos full of coffee in the kitchen.

"Don't you dare go to school without eating something, Tucker Foley," his mother said without looking up from her pour. "I'll tell your father if you aren't eating again."

"Mom, I'm not doing that again. I'm just in a hurry - have you seen my shoes?"

"Banana. Now."

Tucker groaned loudly and reached for a banana that was hanging in a bunch on a small hook, surrounded by other fruits like apples and peaches.

"Happy?"

She stared at him. He sighed and unpeeled the banana, scarfing it down in a few bites.

"Oh Lord, don't choke yourself," she cried. "And don't get mad at me. Just looking out for my baby boy."

Tucker tried not to make a comment. Instead, he repeated his earlier question. "Shoes, Mom?"

"I think you left them by the door next to the umbrella stand."

"I checked there already!"

"Did you look again?"

Tucker looked again and realized that they were shoved underneath a few hanging coats, just out of view.

"Thanks, Mom," he grumbled and sat down on the floor to pull his shoes on.

"What got you up so late? I had to come in and turn off your bedside lamp this morning when I woke up."

"You did? I must've forgotten."

"Must've."

"I dunno, Mom, just not sleeping well I guess."

"That's because you're not getting enough to eat."

His mother gave him another one of those 'disapproving nurse' looks like she had been ever since Danny had 'died.' Eating anything at all had been a challenge after Danny's accident. The stress of not knowing when or if Danny would pull through had taken a toll on his weight. Now, the very different stress from ghost hunting had put him off a normal routine, but at least he was eating. More than ever, in fact. Yet, no matter how much he ate at meals, he couldn't convince her he was back on track. She had permanent eyes on his waistline.

"That's not it, Mom, I swear."

She gave him a once-over, decided he looked like he was a good size, and finally nodded.

"Fine, but if your sleep keeps going like that you might be getting the flu that's been going around. Every November we seem to get a huge surge of flu cases at the hospital."

Tucker paused in his mad dash to put on his coat.

"Maybe that's what Sam has."

"What?"

He hadn't realized he said it aloud.

"Uh, Sam? Last night she texted saying she didn't feel very good."

"Oh, poor baby girl. I hope it isn't that. This one is pretty nasty."

"Is it?"

Tucker's expression must have been too worried because his mother softened her tone.

"Oh, don't worry, she'll be alright."

Tucker cleared his throat.

"I know."

His mom gave him a small smile and a side-glance.

"How are you and Sam these days?"

Tucker started putting his coat on quickly.

"Just friends, Mom, I keep telling you that."

He could hear her laughing over his shoulder. As he pulled open the front door he shouted a quick "Love you!" and ran down the street and to the corner bus stop to wait.

…

Tucker suffered through another morning calculus class.

This time, Valerie was wearing a wine-red sweater that went all the way up to her throat - a clear sign that cooler weather was truly starting to settle in. He watched the rise and fall of her shoulders as she sighed and struggled through class alongside him, her chin sliding off her hand as she dozed off at her desk.

He couldn't blame her. Mrs. Shelley didn't even seem like she wanted to be here today. It was Friday, after all, and even the teachers were waiting for that final bell to ring.

Tucker often wondered what the teachers must be feeling when they rolled into school every day. They all seemed just as exhausted as their students were. Mrs. Shelley was the type to always have a messy bun in, even when it looked more "messy" than fashionable.

Lancer drank more coffee than anyone Tucker had ever seen and he had the teeth stains to prove it. Even Mr. Stoker, the fresh-out-of-grad-school hipster-type who rode in on his bike each morning, would enter first-hour AP English smelling as if he'd just come from a Colorado pot forest.

Or at least that's what Sam had said.

Were teachers just like him? Miserable and waiting to get out once the bell rang each day? Or did they, the students, make teachers miserable, and it was an endless cycle of funk permeating the walls of Casper High?

By the time lunch rolled around, Tucker still hadn't come to a conclusion about that, but he figured that by the time he graduated this upcoming June, it wouldn't matter. He was sitting down at their regular lunch table with a Sloppy Joe in hand. It gave him shivers to think about Patty the lunch lady ghost, but that didn't stop him from biting into it and savoring the taste.

Thanks for the special sauce, Patty, Tucker thought.

"What's on the menu?" Danny asked as he walked up to Tucker, his face fresh as morning snow, eyes bright with energy. "I'm starving."

"Sloppy Joe's. Why are you so chipper?"

"Turns out, hauling a sofa around the living room for three hours, even with ghost powers, really takes it out of you. I ended up passing out at like… eight. How late were you up?"

Tucker didn't remember when he fell asleep watching his phone for a text from Sam, so he shrugged.

"Have you heard from Sam at all today?" Tucker asked.

"No, why?"

"Sam messaged me last night before bed that she wasn't feeling well, and I guess she's not in school today since she's not sitting with us. I haven't gotten another text from her so I wondered if you did."

"You don't think I got her sick, do you?"

An unbidden image of Danny and Sam standing close together, their breath mixing over whispered words, flashed painfully through Tucker's brain and he nearly choked on his water.

"How would you have gotten her sick?" he gasped.

"Just from all the ghost hunting, you know? We're out late all night lately and you know she never dresses for the weather. Always in a skirt or something. I don't know why she does that."

"No, dude, I don't think it was you. My mom says that there is a flu going around. Maybe she has that?"

Danny still looked haunted which, for him, was ironic.

"I'll text her," Danny said resolutely, and he pulled out his phone.

Tucker watched Danny type out a quick message, probably an "are you okay?" and chewed his food.

While they waited for a response that would never come, Tucker asked, "What are you doing this weekend? Ghost watching?"

"More like 'moron boyfriend' watching. I can't believe Jazz is dating some asshole biker guy. Of all the times to choose to act out and rebel against our parent's ideals, this is the worst time to do it. I mean, come on? The minute I get ghost powers Jazz decides to cut loose?"

Tucker cracked a smile.

"Cut her some slack, she's been hittin' the books for years. It was only a matter of time before she started hittin' something else."

"Ew. Thanks for that."

Tucker smirked at him and finished his food, wiping his hands absently on a thin paper napkin and dumping the remains of his tray into the garbage.

Danny checked his phone several times at lunch, but Sam never got back to either of them.

"We should go check on her," Tucker said.

"What if she's really, really sick and they won't let us see her?"

"Well, we can at least ask her grandma what's going on."

"If her grandma is the one who answers the door…"

Tucker knew that Sam's parents - like most parents - didn't like Danny. Mostly because the Fentons had a bad reputation around town for being "kooks."

"If she isn't the one who answers, I'll talk to Sam's parents for you," Tucker said reassuringly.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"So," Danny said, pushing soggy bread around his tray, "what are you doing this weekend?"

"Well, if you're on creep-duty I guess I'll finish Mikey's build."

"How's that going?"

"I'm looking for a download online that will upgrade the new driver I installed. I'm hoping it will be better than the standard, you know? I wanna really impress them."

"You will," Danny said smiling. "You always do."

The guilt in Tucker's stomach flared up again, and once more he reminded himself that he was going to try to be a better friend to Danny. After all, none of Tucker's jealous feelings were Danny's fault.

At the end of lunch, the two of them agreed to meet after school and head straight for Sam's. Tucker felt less anxious now that he knew they were going to check on her, and even though he understood that it was really silly to get so worked up about a cold or the flu, just the idea of seeing her calmed his nerves.

...

When the bell rang that afternoon around three, Danny and Tucker hitched a ride with Tucker's mom who dropped them off downtown in front of the Manson brownstone.

"If our poor baby girl is sick," his mother said sternly from the driver's seat, "I do not want you sticking around. Don't bring it home with you and for God's sake, let her rest."

"Yes, Mrs. Foley," Danny said at the same time Tucker said, "Okaaaay, Mom."

They exited the car and the Honda Civic pulled away from the curb and cruised down the street.

Danny shuffled his feet nervously at the bottom of the brownstone steps and so Tucker went up first. He reached the door, which was made of rich mahogany, and knocked. Then, considering the size of the brownstone, he rang the bell, just in case they didn't hear.

"Sam's parents have jobs, don't they?" Danny asked from behind Tucker where he was cowering. "Like, they're not home all day, are they?"

"I dunno. I think they just… shop?"

The door opened and the two boys took an instinctive step backward. Luckily, it was Grandma Manson who answered the door, rolling forward on her scooter. She smiled up at them.

"I knew you'd show up," she told them. "Like clockwork, I told her, 'They'll be here right after school, mark my words,' and here you are."

Danny beamed down at the little woman and her knowing smile.

"What's wrong?" Tucker asked immediately.

"Food poisoning. Poor thing caught something at that seafood restaurant my son took her to last night. Not a pretty day."

Tucker and Danny winced.

"But she's not sick, sick, right?"

"Oh she's sick," Grandma Manson said, "but it's not contagious. Wanna see her?"

Both boys said "yes" at the same time. Ida laughed at her own private joke and led them to the elevator so she could join them on her scooter.

The best thing about Sam's grandma was that she didn't discuss the basic pleasantries that most parents used when their children's friends would come to visit. There was no, "how was school?" or "what are you going to be when you grow up?" with Ida Manson.

No, it was: "So, Jazz is still dating that punk?"

"Yes! I don't know why," Danny cried.

"Women do what we want," Ida winked. "You can't blame her for having a little fun."

Even better, she then asked: "How long before you build me a gaming computer, young man?"

Tucker blushed beneath his beanie.

"Oh, you know, as soon as you tell me what you're looking for."

"I told you. I'll pay for it, you just build it."

"Okay, it's a deal. What games will you play?"

"Don't know, but if Mary at the club can play Skyrim, then I can, too. I need a new hobby since the bowling alley downstairs is under renovation."

When the elevator stopped on the second floor they spilled out and headed straight down the hall for Sam's room. The door was painted a plum purple, completely different from the blues and creams of the upstairs foyer, and Sam's grandmother knocked gently.

"Bubbeleh?"

They heard groaning from within the room and Ida gave them an apologetic smile.

"Wait here."

She went inside and shut the door. Danny and Tucker stood there, unsure of what to do with themselves. Then the door opened again and Sam was standing there with her black and purple comforter pulled around her shoulders, her eyes bloodshot from throwing up, and her skin as pale as a wraith.

"You just had to come check on me, didn't you?"

They gave her two sympathetic and sheepish grins and followed her into the room.

"You kids be good," Ida said, scooting her way out and leaving the door cracked behind her.

The inside of Sam's room was pitch black, the curtains of her bay windows drawn tightly closed. Sam shuffled back to her bed and sat down gingerly on the mattress, her face contorting into a pained expression.

"How bad is it?" Tucker asked.

"Worse," she said. "Everything aches. I've lost some weight for sure, and I'll never look at scallops the same way again. Talk about Hell's Kitchen."

Danny sat next to her on the bed.

"Anything we can do?"

"Just one thing," she said dramatically, flopping back on the bed. "Don't remember me like this. Remember me as I was."

Then she pretended to die.

"Come'on, Sam," Tucker said before he could stop himself. "You look amazing."

They both glanced at him and he cleared his throat.

"You know, for puking your guts out and all."

"Gee, thanks," she said, placing her hands over her eyes. "I feel hollow. My head is splitting open."

"Don't you have like… an on-call medical staff who comes to help you out when you're sick?" Danny asked.

Sam pulled her hands from her eyes and looked at them guiltily.

"I haven't told my parents. Grandma called school for me."

Tucker's eyebrows went up. "Why haven't you told them?"

"Because they love that restaurant. I went on and on about how good the food was, which it was, until I got sick! My parents and I rarely have a good time together so I don't want to disappoint them."

Danny jumped in. "What if you're really sick, though?"

"It's just food poisoning, it will pass."

"Food poisoning can be serious, though, Sam," Danny continued. "Even if you don't want to tell your parents, you gotta say something. What if the restaurant poisons someone else?"

"Yeah, I know, but what if my parents go in there, guns-blazing, and sue the place? Complaining in the Manson household only ends in disaster, I promise you."

Tucker and Danny looked at each other.

"I'll call in an anonymous tip that someone got food poisoning from last night's scallops," Tucker finally said. "That'll at least take care of the restaurant."

Sam smiled a little. "Thanks."

"You're sure that you're okay, Sam?" Danny asked.

Sam sat up and crawled back under her comforter, propping herself back up on the pillows. "I think the worst of it has passed. I love you guys, and thanks for coming to see me, but like… leave. Just in case it happens again?"

"Noted," Danny said, standing up from the bed. "We'll go."

"I'll call the place now, what restaurant was it?"

"Kingfisher," she told Tucker, pulling a pillow out from behind her and cuddling it close. "It's really nice, save for all this."

"We'll get out of your hair, Sam," Danny said. "Seeya Monday?"

"For sure."

Then they left.

…

It was a Friday night and Tucker was spending it alone in his room.

He tapped away at his keyboard after booting up his desktop and headed straight to the forum. This time he had bookmarked the information he wanted to know, and he was able to keep an eye on responses to his question.

There was a string of replies from people also looking for the developer. He was apparently really mysterious and would come and go in the community, disappearing like smoke. Tucker had to skim through a lot of random replies when something caught his eye.

Got what you need, child. Just try this: devtechnusdownload10

Without even thinking twice, committing one of the most fatal mistakes for any tech user, Tucker clicked on the download link.

His monitor flashed brightly once like it had short-circuited and then went completely dead. Tucker gasped aloud, and the faint smell of singed metal wafted around his now-dark room. He clicked on the desk light and saw that his computer was smoking a little bit.

He patted at the smoking part with the sleeve of his hoodie and groaned aloud.

"What the Hell was that? A virus or an EMP? Stupid, stupid, stupid," he told himself as he switched on his flashlight and peered into his rig. "I can't believe I clicked on that link!"

The desktop was dead. It was like he'd poured water on it. His baby was lifeless and silent.

Then, out of nowhere, the quiet whir of the cooling fan cut through the room, and Tucker breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe his desktop had just gone into a restart?

He was just about to sit down and investigate what had happened with it when he realized that his screen wasn't on. His computer should normally boot up in less than five seconds, and yet the monitor was still black.

Then, a small, neon green typing cursor started blinking on the black screen. It was like looking at a hacker's computer from a 90s movie.

Neon green words began to write themselves across the monitor:

| That was a fast click. Greetings, child!

Tucker stared. The words continued.

| I, Technus, thank you for assisting me! This world has so much to offer technologically, but I desire a form. Can you assist me further?

The cursor paused. Tucker's heart was pounding in the silence. The marker continued to blink at him, waiting.

Tucker's shaking hands reached for the keyboard, and he wrote back:

| Is this a virus?

The cursor started blinking rapidly, and for some reason, Tucker thought that the computer was laughing at him.

| A virus? I, Technus, am far more sophisticated than that. Let me out, and I will be most generous.

Nothing this strange had happened to him since Danny had gotten his ghost powers, and so Tucker assumed that this could only be similar.

A techie ghost? Doubtful, he thought to himself, but what else could it be?

Tucker typed back once more.

| Are you a ghost?

The cursor blinked rapidly again.

Definitely laughing at him.

| Very perceptive, child! Let me out.

Tucker was pretty sure that the best course of action would be to deny any request a mysterious computer ghost asked of him, but he was curious. After all, they had met several blob-like, harmless ghosts that went willingly back to 'the other side.' Some of them were even friendly and chatty.

Couldn't this be the same?

| What happens if I let you out?

| Hm. Good question. I'm not entirely sure, but don't you want to find out? I promise not to harm you.

| What about harming other people?

| *Sighs* Fine. Fine. I, Technus, won't intentionally harm anyone that I come by. But only if you let me out right now. *Offers hand to shake*

Did the ghost just write out his actions with asterisks like a role-playing forum from 2002? This was seriously weird.

"I don't think so," Tucker said aloud, and he bent down and unplugged the computer.

The monitor went dark and the words that had been etched along the screen went with it. Tucker considered booting his PC back up, but found that he was more worried that the ghost would either be angry or would try to get his help again.

He didn't want to risk it. The problem was, he was supposed to have Mikey's build done by Monday at the latest. If not, he could kiss all that sweet, sweet PC-building money goodbye.

Tucker grumbled and sighed before kneeling back down and plugging the computer back into the wall. His hands shook as he pressed the power button once more, begging it to boot back up properly without a ghostly virus infiltrating his hard drive.

The computer booted up in its traditional five seconds without delay.

Tucker breathed a heavy sigh of relief and got to work quickly, just in case the ghost came back.

He used the standard drivers and upgrades this time with no issues. He put Mikey's computer back together - this time with proper cable management - and then shut down his own computer for the night, too worried to use it any longer.

Maybe the ghost was gone, off bothering someone else? Maybe he'd imagined it all?

No. Unfortunately, Tucker couldn't see strange, creepy things out of the corner of his eye and laugh it off as a trick of the light anymore. Those people that no one else could see? Blobless forms floating just beyond the streetlight at night? Real.

That was… just his life now.

"Don't come back," he said to the dark computer. Then he left his room to hunt for food.