A/N: This is where the drama begins... :)
Chapter 3
Valerie dropped her keys on the counter and pried off her shoes. She flicked on the lights, illuminating the living room. Her dad's taste could be described as traditional (a.k.a. boring) so the main hues in the room were warm browns and stern blacks. There was a couch the same shade as roasted coffee beans that was the most comfortable piece of seating ever created. It was flanked by matching armchairs. The ebony-coloured coffee table was covered in magazines – Mr. Grey's science and technology journals and his daughter's fashion publications. The walls were the colour of warm buttermilk.
There were no phone messages so she went straight to her room. She took the camera out of her bag and placed it on her desk and then dropped the bag on her the fuschia Mexican blanket she had received as a gift from her Aunt Tia, the same Aunt who had bought her the camcorder for her sixteenth three months ago. She stood before the mirror and lifted her shirt. Her abdomen had been in agony ever since that ghost had hit her with a bowling ball. She twisted this way and that and sure enough, there was a patch of darkened bruised skin. She gingerly pressed her fingertips to it and flinched – it was sore but she'd survive. She shuddered to think how much worse off she would have been without her suit. Speaking of which, she retrieved it from her bag and examined the damage with a shake of her head. It was in pretty bad shape. Her dad would probably be able to repair it, but she would have to wait until he got back from Tokyo. In the meantime, she could use her spare suit.
She swept aside the clothes hanging at the back of her closet and dialed a code onto the hidden keypad. The entire panel swung around, so that instead of sweet floral dresses and trendy jackets, there was a sleek red suit and an array of shiny metallic ghost-fighting weaponry. She hung up the old suit and stuffed the new one into her bag.
After a quick shower and a change into a grey baseball shirt and shorts with tiny yellow daisies on them, she fetched herself a raspberry yoghurt. Eagerly smacking her lips at the delicious treat she returned to her room and plopped on her bed to check her FaceSpace page. The profile photo had her and Danny sharing an ice-cream cone. Even though she had her tongue hanging out and a white line of rapidly melting vanilla dribbling down her chin, she absolutely loved that picture. Danny's wide eyed bemusement from the other side of the cone actually made her laugh audibly. She looked like an idiot but she was at least she was a happy idiot. Old Valerie would never have put up anything so embarrassing on the Internet.
She got her camera and transferred the still photos and video to the laptop. She uploaded a couple of pictures to her FaceSpace page and then decided to watch the footage she had captured. The first thing she saw was her own face grinning into the lens. The picture was shaky and amateurish because she'd been trying to walk and film at the same time. She panned away and started to walk backwards so that she could focus on her friends.
"Say hi to the camera, guys!"
"Hi!" Tucker and Danny waved.
"Ugh, do you have to record everything nowadays?" Sam complained, shoving a palm into the lens. "Cut it out!"
Valerie then appeared again and confided to the camera: "And that's Sam on a good day."
"I heard that," came Sam's sarcastic voice from behind her coupled with sniggers from the boys.
Their night had started off at Nasty Burger. Valerie had worked there for nearly her entire freshman year. Everyday she'd left work with her clothes smelling like they'd been dipped in batter, deep fried and served with a side of coleslaw. Her ex-friends Paulina and Dash had given her so much grief over that. They were such jerks. She was actually glad to be done with them. Anyway, there was this guy who used to come in twice daily and buy four Nasty Burgers each time. He was huge, like huge. Whenever he came in she'd have to bite her tongue to keep from sending him out of there and off to a gym. She'd try and be subtle by offering him salads but he never wanted any. She had this morbid vision of him keeling over and dying right in front of her and just before he breathed his last, raising a finger and hissing, "It's your fault."
Some good had come out of it though. She had begun to eat healthier, not least because she knew just how bad Nasty Burger was for you. It wasn't about losing weight – she had long understood that she'd never be as skinny as Star or Sam. They were lucky because they never had to work to maintain their figure. For her part Valerie was curvy and proud of it. But she was the Red Huntress so she had to be fit if she was going to hunt ghosts effectively.
There had been some funny moments, too. One time this guy had come in and he had an enormous bulbous nose. It's just one of those things where no matter how had you try, your eyes keep wandering back to that feature. Anyway, Ellen, Val's coworker (who had about as much tact as a porcupine in a balloon factory) took his order and then drolly remarked to Val, "Dude, look at the face on that nose." And the guy was like two feet away! He'd turned and shot Ellen the dirtiest look ever and then walked right out of the restaurant. Valerie had nearly passed out from laughing. Even today, that was one of her favourite stories to tell.
She was watching footage from the bowling alley now. The girls were good-naturedly ribbing the boys when the lights changed. This was the moment when the bowling ghost attacked. Why any ghost would choose to haunt a bowling alley was beyond her. He must have been such a loser in the Ghost Zone. She really hated ghosts. All they ever did was ruin stuff. The footage shook as Sam ducked behind the counter and then the view became skewed when she left the camera on the floor. There were loud crashing sounds and flashes of Tucker's leg here and Sam's arm there but nothing interesting since most of the action was taking place above them. Valerie sighed and pressed the forward button, barely watching now.
Stupid ghosts, she grumbled. Stupid Phantom. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have been taken down by that ridiculous bowling ghost. She rubbed her dully aching abdomen unconsciously.
Valerie's eyes were this close to closing when something she saw made her sit up. She frantically pressed the rewind button and let it play. Danny was on the ground and Sam was cradling his head. Val's insides dissolved. When had Danny got injured and why hadn't he mentioned it to her? Her eyes were drawn to the way Sam's slender fingers were stroking the hair at the fallen boy's temple and she felt a lump form in her throat. The Goth girl fancied herself very good at hiding her emotions but right then and there, it was obvious how much she cared for him.
Danny's eyes were shut and his mouth was ajar. Then all at once his eyes burst open. Sam breathed deeply, clearly relieved. Valerie was relieved too, as much as she knew that Danny hadn't remained on that floor. He shared a look with Sam, one that spoke volumes. Years of friendship had made words unnecessary between the two of them, and Tucker too. Over the past couple of years, Valerie had felt more and more like a part of the group but she'd always felt that despite their gradual acceptance of her, there were still things she wasn't privy to.
She could never have imagined how right she was nor guessed in a million years what those 'things' might be if she hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes, but right there on the screen, with a ring of bluish-white light Danny Fenton's appearance changed. His red shirt turned into a black body suit with silver gloves. His eyes became an unnatural green and his hair was suddenly bleached silvery white. Finally, a faint green aura surrounded him, brightening his tanned face. And if there was any doubt in her mind what she was seeing, there was the tell-tale stylized DP on his chest. Once the transformation was complete, he launched himself into the air, leaving Sam staring after him.
The blood rushed from Valerie's face and her breath hitched in her windpipe. Her entire body felt like it was slowly turning to stone. All she could do was continue to stare at the screen until the part where the recording had ended with her picking the camera up and turning it off. Disbelieving silence followed. She must have been mistaken, she told herself, or simply misunderstood. Eventually she managed a slow blink which resolved her blurry vision into crystal clarity. Almost like a wound-up toy, everything began to move at once. Her breathing picked up to a frenetic rate and her stillness was replaced with a burning shudder that reached down to her toes. With a trembling finger Valerie played the video again, almost fearfully navigating to the part where it had happened. But no matter how many times she watched it, it just didn't make sense to her. Everything felt surreal – like she wasn't quite present. It took a while to register the dampness on her face. She touched her fingers to her cheeks and observed the clear wetness coating her fingertips and that only made her weep harder, because the nightmarish reality of the situation had finally penetrated to her core.
The boy she loved and the ghost she hated were the same person.
A/N: That's all for now, mis amores. Don't forget to drop me a line.
