Chapter 5:
Danny POV-
Of all the teams for her father to hate it was funny that he hated the Packers, because I did too. Of course, I hated the Packers because it was Vlad's only other obsession, other than my mom. I'm sure their dad hates it for some other reason, a team rivalry, probably. The funny thing is though; in Turkey I wouldn't think you'd be able to watch a lot of American football.
I shook my head. It's an American air force base; of course they're able to watch American football.
Another…strange inconsistency was Jackson's reaction to the stars, like he had not seen them in a long time. Correct me if I'm wrong but, aren't stars kind of a universal thing? I'm pretty sure they have them in Turkey too.
'Oh well,' I mentally dropped the subject as I laid down to go to sleep, 'I'm sure it's nothing.'
The next morning I awoke to the obnoxious beeping of my alarm clock. I groaned, sitting up and turning it off.
Mondays suck.
I slowly got ready for school, pulling on jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. I smoothed down a hair on my head that stuck up, running my fingers through until it was at an acceptable level of messiness and then going downstairs for breakfast.
Wren and Jackson were heading downstairs at the same time, in the same tired, 'I-hate-Mondays' mood that I was.
Eli had been taken to school an hour earlier by my parents, who now sat at the opposite end of the breakfast table, looking as exhausted as we were. I pulled out a box of cereal and poured it into a bowl, passing the box to Jackson and Wren who also poured a bowl. We ate in silence, which seemed perfect for us, as no one looked exactly ready to hold a conversation this early in the morning. But, of course, the only morning person in the family, Jazz, had to come and ruin our peaceful silence.
"So, are you guys ready?" she asked Wren and Jackson cheerfully as she grabbed a granola bar and some orange juice for herself.
"Yeah," Wren said quietly in an 'I'm-too-tired-to-talk-why-are-you-talking-to-me' voice that Jazz didn't seem to pick up on.
"Oh that's good. Jackson, you have some of your classes with me so you can follow me to know how to get there. Danny you said that Sam was staying with someone my age too, right? So Jackson, you and I can wait out front for her and then we can all walk to class together," she said. Jackson nodded with a grunt of acknowledgement, as he picked up another spoonful of cereal and put it in his mouth.
Once we had finished dinner, we all piled into Jazz's car and she drove us to school, her usual soft hits of the eighties station drifting through the speakers and making me want to fall asleep.
Wren and I waited out front with Jazz and Jackson because Sam would arrive with Carrie. Tucker showed up after a few minutes.
"Dude, have you seen some of these new girls? They're kind of hot, and they don't know me, I might have a chance," he exclaimed. At the same moment, Wren, who had been drinking from a water bottle choked, spewing water on the ground. I looked over at her, my eyebrow raised, but she just coughed again, shaking her head and gesturing that she was alright, but I didn't miss the strange look she shared with her brother.
Finally, Sam and Carrie showed up. Carrie appeared to be just as preppy as Sam had said she was. She was wearing a knee-length brown plaid skirt, and a quarter sleeved sage green colored shirt. Her hair which was a reddish-brown, fell straight to her shoulders where it flared out a little at the edges and was pulled back by a green headband.
'Wow, something tells me that this girl will definitely be friends with Jazz,' I thought. Sam introduced her and then Jackson, Jazz, and Carrie left to their first period class and Wren, Sam, and I went the opposite direction to ours: English with Mr. Lancer.
Today was actually the first time in about four days that I hadn't shown up late because I was fighting a ghost, and Mr. Lancer noticed.
"Ah, Mr. Fenton, nice of you to actually show up early for once," he said sarcastically, "And, you must be one of the new students," he said turning to Wren, "What's your name?"
"Wren Erikson," she said as Mr. Lancer glanced down at his list of students.
"Here, you are. Well, why don't you take a seat next to Ms. Manson," he said. Wren nodded and took her seat next to Sam as we waited for everyone else to show up.
Wren POV-
As people filed in, I recognized a lot of them. I saw Brenda Lee and her father whose name is…I think Kwan. Her mother Star was also in our class, but she must not be living with her because they came in at different times.
A lot of the other people I vaguely recognized, probably because they had moved out of Amity Park once things had started going bad, just like a lot of people had, but, little did they know at the time, that ghost rule would spread over the entire world.
I looked over at my mom's notebook, filled with notes written in her neat, slated, handwriting. I smiled to myself, it was a silly thing to be comforted by, but it was comforting none the less.
The bell rang and class started. Mr. Lancer, who got even older and fatter in the future, yet still, he is one of my teachers, blathered on about Shakespeare, which was, once again, weird to me because I had heard the same lecture a week ago. Isn't it strange, a week ago for me would have been considered the past in the future, but not it's considered the future? I shook off these thoughts. There are so many things about the time stream that confuse me.
About half-way through class, my dad raised his hand and asked to go to the bathroom. Mr. Lancer simply sighed and nodded as my dad practically bolted out of the room.
Weird.
The next two periods after English passed uneventfully, but I had neither of my parents in these classes. I had James in my second period geometry class, but we were assigned to sit on opposite sides of the room so the extent of our interaction was a slight wave before the lesson began. Finally, it was time for fourth period lunch.
I got to lunch fairly quickly, and simply got a water bottle and a packet of peanut butter crackers from the vending machine when I realized that it was unlikely that there would be a lunch account set up for me. Unfortunately, it then occurred to me that I had no idea where my parents generally sat. I stood in the corner, scanning the crowds until I spotted a familiar trio of heads taking the farthest table in the corner. I resisted the urge to laugh out loud. This is where I usually sit with my friends.
"Hi guys," I smiled, sitting at the table next to them.
"Oh hey," Sam said, "So how was second and third period?"
I shrugged "How do you expect my geometry and geography classes went?" I asked sarcastically.
"Do you have Mrs. Archer?" Tucker asked and I nodded in response. They all grimaced in response.
"So, not very well, I take it?" Danny smirked and I shook my head, causing them all to laugh.
At the other end of the cafeteria, I saw James sit with—wow, he does look a lot like his dad (except with brown-tinted hair instead of blonde)—and the rest of the football/popular crowd.
He smiled and walked over.
"Hey Wren," he greeted me with a wave.
"Hey James," I smiled back but neither of us got to continue our conversation because his dad…Dash…and several of his large friends got up and walked in our direction.
"James, why are you talking to these losers?" Dash asked clapping a hand on his shoulders and studying my parents and Tucker with a sneer. James paled a little, looking unsure what he wanted to say or do.
"Um…" James stuttered but he didn't get to finish because his dad finally saw me and gave me a supposed-to-attractive-or-charming-smile, but it made me want to puke.
"Hey, you're pretty. Why are you hanging out with Fenturd and these losers?" he asked, and my desire to barf just went up, but I was able to repress it because of the anger that was now beginning to swell. He just insulted my parents…twice. I know, they're not technically my parents yet and I probably shouldn't be so defensive, especially because I know that Mr. Baxter and my dad become friends in the future, but it pissed me off.
Sorry James.
"Look who's talking," I smirked, sarcastically arching my eyebrow and his whole crowd erupted in a chorus of "oohs."
"What did you just say?" he asked.
"Do you need me to say it slower? Are you actually as dumb as you look?" I smirked sarcastically again. By now, Dash was turning red, and even James started to look a little pissed. I cast him an apologetic look out of the corner of my eye, hoping that he got the message: that I was not insulting his dad, I was insulting the jerk who had just insulted my parents.
Without another word, Dash whipped around stalking off towards the popular table. James looked between me and his father helplessly before running off to join him after we shared one mutual apologetic look, and I knew that my message had gotten through.
"Nice!" my mom exclaimed, holding up her hand for a high five which I met with a smile.
"Who was that guy?" my dad asked.
"His name is James Green, I know him from the base. It's funny because we are actually in close social circles in school," I told them.
"He could be Dash's twin," I heard my dad mutter under his breath, as he looked over to their group, probably in deep thought.
"You know you didn't have to do that for us?" Tucker asked.
"What do you mean?" I asked confused, as I took a sip of my water bottle.
"I mean, you didn't have to tell Dash off like that, now you've ruined any chance of being popular while you're here," he told me.
"Like I care," I said, "Who needs to be popular? And someone needed to tell him off."
"But what about your friend?" Danny asked.
I waved it off, "We'll be fine. He knows I wasn't insulting him."
They nodded and we continued our meal until the next bell rang and we all moved on to our biology class.