Chapter 4
"So? What do you think?" Paulina asked the next day whilst posing before Sam, who was sitting at a desk in front of her. She had just finished showcasing her performance idea to the Goth and was now awaiting her opinion.
"Uh," Sam drawled, slowly stroking her chin. "You wrote that song yourself?"
"Duh. The instrumental is mine too," Paulina answered proudly. She flicked her hair behind her shoulders and planted her hands on her hips. "The choreography is the next part I was working on, but I was doing that with Star."
Sam pursed her lips and was quiet for a long minute. "Okay," she finally responded. "Can I see the lyrics? I just have a bit of constructive criticism to offer."
Paulina rolled her eyes a bit, but went over to her backpack anyway. She pulled out a green marble journal a few seconds after digging around in the bag and then handed it to Sam. "The lyrics start on the seventh page," she informed her. "Just keep flipping. It's written in blue ink."
Sam accepted the journal and did as she was instructed to do. She found the lyrics exactly on the seventh page and began reading them, trying her best not to cringe whilst doing so. "It's all about me. Yeah, I shut the show down. No girl stands a chance when Paulina comes around," she read aloud.
"Yeah, I shut the show down," Paulina sang, prancing around a bit. "Down, down, down. I shut it down."
Sam disregarded her and continued reading the lyrics to herself, shaking her head disapprovingly. "Paulina, I love the instrumental and I'm willing to tolerate it, but these lyrics are absolutely terrible. Well, they're in character for you, so I understand why it's awful."
"What's wrong with my song?" Paulina huffed, now on the defensive.
"What's not wrong with it? This looks like something someone in middle school would write," Sam admitted. "Look, confidence is one thing, but conceitedness is a whole other one. Dedicating an entire song to how gorgeous and above everyone else you think you are is a bit much."
"Oh really? Do you have any better ideas?" Paulina asked.
Sam brought her fingers to her lips and hummed thoughtfully. There were a lot of different ideas flowing through her head, but none of them were something Paulina would be interested in. They were polar opposites, so deciding on a song was going to be a difficult task.
"Wait. I have an idea." When Paulina groaned, Sam quickly held out her hands and shook her head. "No, no, a good idea," she assured the girl. "How about we split the song? Like, I want it to be about everyone being different and unique and you want it to be all about you."
"Uh, yes. I'm the star, but I'm not really following you," Paulina responded. "Are you telling me to change my lyrics?"
Sam slapped her forehead and sighed in annoyance. "No, genius. I'm saying I'll add my own lyrics into the song and then we'll alternate between mine and yours," she explained. "We can start the performance on separate sides of the stage and then merge together towards the end."
"No. We're not standing side by side on the stage. I still won't be caught dead with you."
"How? We're performing together," Sam pointed out. Paulina frowned, realizing that she was right. "Our performance can be sort of like a battle. I'll be on one side singing about how we're all unique and you'll be on the other side singing about how superior you are. We'll take turns singing, of course."
Paulina nodded her head slowly. "Okay?"
"You'll 'realize' I'm right about everyone being unique towards the end of our performance and then we'll join each other on the middle of the stage. After that, we'll sing the finale together, but I'm writing the lyrics to that part."
"Okay, okay." Paulina waved her hand dismissively and looked away. "Write the lyrics first so we can rehearse it with my instrumental. We'll get into the choreography and all that other crap afterwards."
"Fine with me," Sam agreed. She closed the green marble journal and handed it back to Paulina, who tucked it into her backpack. She then stared at Sam expectantly, waiting for her to start writing the lyrics. "What? I'm not writing it here in front of you," Sam told her.
"Why not? Is your singing really as awful as your dancing is?" wondered Paulina.
"I'm just not going to write it or sing it in front of you," Sam answered. "When it's ready, I'll let you know."
"Okay, but you do know that it's Wednesday and the show's next Friday, right?"
Sam frowned because she actually didn't know that, but then she shrugged. "I'll knock this out in time. Don't worry. In the meantime, we can go over your part since you seem to have it done already."
Paulina nodded eagerly and rose to her feet. "Finally. We should've started this during detention yesterday."
Sam noticed that Paulina was only nice to her when they were both doing something she wanted to do. Whenever they discussed doing something else, she was either laconic or dismissive towards it.
She decided to let the princess have her way, allowing her to show off her dancing skills and her vocals. She wasn't half bad, but Sam wished she would do something more productive with her talent that didn't involve flaunting it around.
Detention let out exactly an hour later. They both went their separate ways, which was awkward for Sam because outside of detention, they refused to speak to each other, but inside of it, they were almost like partners. They didn't say a word to each other otherwise, nor did they even glance at each other.
She arrived home about fifteen minutes later. She regretted going home because her parents weren't there the day before, as they went out of town. They just got back that day, so she was certain they were going to scold her for her actions the day before.
She was correct; they were waiting for her as soon as she entered the house. "Samantha Elizabeth Manson!" her father, Jeremy, exclaimed, tapping his foot angrily. She sighed and brushed past him, heading for the staircase. "What's this I hear about you engaging in a physical altercation with one of your classmates?"
"Nothing," she answered, briskly moving up the steps. "Nothing at all."
"You march your behind right back over here, missy!" ordered Pamela, her mother. "You will not walk off like that when you're being addressed!"
Sam stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around, but she failed to return to her original spot by the door. Jeremy crossed his arms and took a few steps forward, stopping just before the staircase. "Answer me, young lady," he demanded.
"It's nothing, dad. Some girl at school kept picking at me, so I retaliated. The end," she explained briefly, turning on her heels and walking up the stairs again. "I'm tired. I'll talk later." She didn't feel like putting up with her parents at the moment, so she chose to retreat to her bedroom.
"We are not a fighting family! We do not condone violence in any way, shape, or form," Pamela reminded her, scowling with disappointment at her daughter. She followed her up the stairs, but Sam had already reached her room and slammed her door.
"You're grounded for a week, young lady," Jeremy informed her, following after Pamela. "No electronics, no going out, and no seeing that Fenton boy!"
"Yeah, okay," Sam grumbled from her bedroom. They continued scolding her through the door, but she ignored them and fell onto her bed with an exhausted sigh. They stopped yelling at her five minutes later and went downstairs, finally leaving her alone.
Or so she thought.
"Well, they said you couldn't see Fenton, not Phantom," Danny said from beside her, scaring the absolute daylights out of her. She jumped back and stared wide-eyed at him, but then she exhaled in relief once she realized who he was.
"You should really start announcing yourself. I can't believe I didn't feel the chill in here. You nearly gave me a heart attack," she whispered. "Wait, were you just eavesdropping on me?"
"No," Danny replied, "I wasn't. I was swinging by to check if you were here because someone forgot to inform me that she got home safely."
Sam smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that. In my defense, I just got home. That, and my parents threw a fit as soon as I stepped into the house," she explained. "How much of the argument did you hear?"
"Enough to know that you can't come to the arcade with me and Tucker tomorrow," answered Danny. He sat beside her on the bed, still in his Phantom form. "By the way, how was detention today?"
She chose not to tell him too much about detention because that would've involved her having to tell him all about her upcoming talent show performance with Paulina, and that would've been a long explanation that she wasn't in the mood to give him.
"It was okay. Paulina's somewhat behaving now," she told him, kicking off her shoes. "Well, she's still evil and shallow, but she's been behaving physically. Verbally, not so much. That girl sure can talk about one person for hours."
"It's nothing you can't handle though, so no worries. After this week, your punishment will be up and you won't have to suffer through detention with her anymore," Danny said.
She frowned, knowing that she was actually going to have to put up with Paulina a little longer than he was aware of. "Yeah," she replied, "hopefully."
His ghost sense went off before he could say anything else. He deadpanned instantly and stood up from the bed. "I'll bet that's Skulker again," he murmured to himself. Turning to Sam, he said, "I'm going to go handle this and then head home. I unfortunately have a project to tend to."
"At least you're doing it the night before it's due instead of the morning it's due," she responded with a small smile. He chuckled softly and nodded in agreement.
"True. I won't say goodnight just yet. I have a feeling I'll pop in later tonight after I finish my project."
"Wear a bell around your neck this time," quipped Sam.
"Oh, ha-ha." Danny stepped forward and kissed her once on the forehead before pecking her tenderly on the lips. She grinned and then watched as he flew upward and phased through her ceiling.
It was still early, only being quarter to five, so rather than take a nap, she decided to get started on her role in Paulina's song. Part of her was still resenting the whole performance, but another part of her was a bit curious as to how it would play out.
She found her favorite purple journal and grabbed a nearby pen before sitting on her bed once again. "Okay, Sam," she quietly said to herself, positioning her pen on the blank paper. "Time to get started."