"Um, thanks?" I said, picking myself up off the ground.

"I wonder if she'll give me her number," Tucker said, picking out a fry from one of the two bags he was holding. I dropped his unnecessarily heavy backpack.

"Really, Tucker?" Sam leveled one of her Goth Glares (TM) at him.

"Whaaaaat?" Another fry disappeared.

With an angry puff of breath, Sam plopped down on the ground and started to lay out her food. "That girl is going to be such a problem for us, and you're talking about asking for her number."

There was one word in that sentence that my brain caught on. "Wait, a problem for us?" I snatched my own bag from Tucker's hand and pulled out the burger, frustrated. This was my problem. Can't get to school? My grades. Can't go to the mall? My inflated savings jar. Sam and Tucker were free to do as they pleased.

"Yes, us," Sam snapped. Wisely, Tucker didn't say anything. He dumped his fries out on a napkin on the grass, along with at least seven ketchup packets.

"You don't have to worry about it," I grumbled. "You have your own lives to live." And I have half of one to make up for, I thought to myself.

"A life? Yeah, right," she shot right back. "We fight ghosts. We keep your secret. That's our life."

I fumed for a moment. I knew that my constant ghost fighting was hard on them, and I often wished there wasn't as much to do. All the same, I liked having my friends around. It was easier on me, for one, and they always had my back.

"She's right, ya know," added Tucker, unexpectedly and definitely unhelpfully. Well, if he didn't have a life, either...

"Well, then," I forced out. "Maybe you should go get a life. And leave me alone." Sam would probably storm out. I didn't want to end the night like that, but I couldn't let them continue to throw their own grades and stuff down the toilet because I was needy.

She didn't even stand up. Tucker looked stricken, but returned to his fries. In the pause, I zipped open Tucker's backpack, grabbed an ectogun, and popped its little store of ectoplasm right out. I glared at the glowing green stuff, its very existence at this picnic frustrating. The glow seemed even brighter in the dusk.

"Obviously, I can't make it about you," Sam finally said. "Even if that's the way we feel." She didn't sound angry anymore. I met Tucker's surprised look, until we both remembered we were upset with each other. Sam took a deep but short breath and stared at her tofu burger. My anger started to ebb.

"You know one of the reasons I'm goth?"

I blinked. That wasn't what I'd been expecting.

"Not the whole reason, of course, but one of them? I always loved fantasy and stuff. With my whole heart. I used to pretend that I could see fairies and talk to them. I distracted myself from boring places my parents took my by imagining the cool stuff I would do if a dragon attacked or something." Sam smiled a bit. I could sort of relate, kind of. I liked to pretend I was up in space in situations like that. Maybe that sort of thing was what she was talking about.

"Goth stuff was always one step beyond reality," Sam continued, her eyes locked on the burger she was still holding. "When you're goth, it's okay to pretend that vampires and zombies and monsters and stuff are real. Heck, you're expected to." I snorted despite myself. It didn't break Sam's stride. "I'd given up believing in that stuff, but I'd never stopped longing for it. Then here you come along - " She looked up at me, another curious smile creeping across her face. I felt my own heat up. " - nerdy and adorable and with your head constantly up in the stars. I was jealous. At least your dreams were possible. And... then the portal thing happened." I started to understand where she was going, and looked down at the tube of ectoplasm I was still holding.

"Suddenly, I was different. It wasn't me in that portal, and I don't know if I would want it to be, anyway. But I have proof I'm not just one of the crowd anymore." Sam grinned up at me and rubbed the skin beside her eyebrow, where a pale scar still lingered. I winced, but her eyes shone. "I actually have a secret to keep, Danny. I'm a ghost hunter, and know things even your parents the experts don't. And I love it. I love being your friend, and I want to worry. If you don't want to hear about how I do it because you're my friend, consider that I do it for myself."

I broke Sam's gaze. She was getting emotional. I thought I understood, at least partly. I tried to imagine what it would be like to suddenly have one of my dreams standing right in front of me, and getting to participate in it. Like getting approached by NASA for their Junior Astronauts program. My face relaxed into a contented smile, and I twisted the top off the tiny glass tube of ectoplasm. I tilted it towards Sam.

"Want some?" I asked, meeting her eyes again. She blinked.

"What?"

I shrugged, my smile growing more. Her confusion was hilarious. I mean, I'd definitely be confused if our roles were reversed, but it was funny anyway. I felt more than saw Tucker look up, too.

"It made Tucker talk in ghost," I tried to explain. "It might do something different and similar to you."

Sam gave the tube a curious once-over, then flicked her eyes up to me, still skeptical. I wiggled my eyebrows as best I could, which probably still wasn't very good. "It doesn't have a faaaace," I sang.

We spent the rest of the meal laughing at Sam turning partly invisible at random times. It was, frankly, hilarious to see her tofu burger being eaten by an invisible head. And half of a Sam razzing on Tucker for his girl-centric attitude? Consider me dead and buried. Ba-dum tishhh.

Unfortunately, we had to split up when the sun set completely. It was a school night, so Sam's parents wanted her home before dark ("But I'm goth! I thrive on the night!") and Tucker wanted to get at least some homework done. He decided to keep the one drained ectogun and two functional ones. We had various stashes in places all over town, and I figured that he'd just swing by our hideout or something and stick the weapons there.

Sam and Tucker lived relatively close to each other, while I lived across the park, so we said goodbye and walked opposite directions. Only a few steps later, I shivered with a sudden burst of cold that made my breath fog strangely in the air.

Woop, here we go getting emotional again. I hope I took a bit of a different route, having Sam be a little more cognizant of just how Danny's feeling and all that. I like this part, even if it's still written a little weird. :)