A/N: Hey guys! I know its been forever, but life has gotten in the way. So here it is, the new chapter (eek don't kill me!) Also sorry about the formatting for this one FFN was being difficult and I'm too lazy to bother fixing it.

"Who won't find out what?" I ask. The two, who had their backs to me, whirled around. Fenton hadn't quite managed to catch himself, and promptly fell off of the chair he was sitting on, right onto his ass. They both stare at me like deer in headlights.

"H-how long have you been standing there?" Fenton asks awkwardly, still sitting helplessly on the floor.

"About thirty seconds. What were you two talking about?" I ask carefully, generally confused. He and Manson share a look.

"Nothing. Just forget it. It's not important." She says. I'm not buying it, but I don't say anything. I just raise my eyebrow. For some reason, I can't help but think they're talking about Kwan and me. Not that I want to admit it, but for awhile, I did think he was dead. The only thing I don't know is the big secret that the two of them obviously don't want us to find out. And what did Manson mean when she thought we saw him change? Like change clothes? Because we sort of did, I guess. I mean we had to take his shirt off, and we were in the bathroom when he put a new one on. But then he said that we didn't. I don't know. It's too early to think about this, so instead I open a cabinet and grab three bowls, and some cereal. As I'm getting the milk out of the fridge, she helps Fenton off the floor and into a chair. I set two of the bowls in front of them, prepare my own bowl of cereal, handing them the box and the carton of milk. Manson pours herself a bit of the Lucky Charms, and hands the box over to Fenton, who pours himself an unusually large amount, then continues to eat it dry.

"You don't have milk with your cereal?" I blurt out unexpectedly.

"I hate milk." He responds through his mouthful of food.

"Oh. There's orange juice, if you want some." He just stares wide eyed at me. "What?" I ask.

"You did not just suggest I put orange juice in my cereal." I resisted the urge to face palm, instead settling on an eye roll.

"To drink, Fenton."

"Oh. Right." He says sheepishly. "Water's fine, I guess." I get up and fill a glass with water from the sink, then hand it to him. He picks it up and takes a long drink, draining about a third of it.

"You want anything to drink?" I ask Manson.

"No, thanks." She says, a thin layer of politeness carefully concealing an ocean of hatred and annoyance. We continue to eat in silence, none of us making eye contact. Fenton had his eyes trained on his slowly diminishing bowl of cereal, and Manson had hers on the threshold of the kitchen and the living room. I looked anywhere but at the two of them.

I hear someone getting up just as I finish eating, so I bring my bowl to the sink, and walk back into the living room. I watch Kwan get up off the couch and stretch, cracking his back in the process. Foley is still lying spread eagled on the couch, dead asleep.

"I was wondering where you were. I assume Fenton and Manson are up too?"

"Yeah, they're in the kitchen eating breakfast."

"How long've you been up?"

"'Bout ten minutes."

"What'd I miss?"

"A lot."

"Care to fill me in?"

"Later. I don't think now's a good idea."

"Oh. You want something to eat?"

"Already ate breakfast."

"Nice. Come to my house, steal my food." Kwan chuckled and shook his head.

"Should we wake up Foley?" I ask.

"We might as well." We both walk over to him, but its Kwan who shakes his shoulder first.

"Wake up."

"Sh'up mom. Lemme sleep." He slurs tiredly.

"I'm not your mother. Wake up." Instead, he turns around so his back is to the two of us.

"C'mon get up."

"No."

"School starts in 5 minutes. You're gonna be late." He suddenly jumps up of the couch.

"Why didn't you tell me I had 5 minutes?!" He exclaims. His expression morphs into confusion.

"Wait a minute. Today's Sunday, isn't it? Damn it!"

"Breakfast is in the kitchen. So are your friends." Kwan calls over his shoulder. Straightening his glasses— which he had fallen asleep in, and managed not to break— he followed the two of us into the kitchen

I walk into the kitchen behind Dash and Kwan. To be honest, I'm not in the best mood at the moment. I hate being woken up this early. Not only that, but I only got a few hours of sleep last night I'm really tired, but really, that's more of an understatement. I'm certainly not exhausted, trust me, I know what that feels like, but I'm pretty damn close. All of that aside, I feel like I haven't showered in forever, even though I took one just yesterday. I don't know if it's due to the fact that I slept in my clothes last night, (this morning?) but whenever I stay over someone elses house, I feel really gross the next morning.

As soon as I step into the kitchen, I stop feeling sorry for myself. Sam looks about the same as I do, but Danny… He looks horrible. Even worse than he did earlier. His skin is almost sickly pale, and he has really dark shadows around his eyes. I really want to pin it off on exhaustion, but who can be sure? And he's filthy, covered in dried blood and grime that didn't get washed off yet. At least he's well enough to eat… what is that? It looks like Lucky Charms from here.

"Hey." I say. Sam looks up and smiles at me.

"Morning, Tuck." She says. Danny looks up from his overfilled bowl for a minute, then looks back, mumbling something incoherently.

Kwan walks over to a cabinet, takes out two bowls and hands me one. The cereal and milk are already out on the counter. I wait as Kwan pours a bowl for himself before pouring some for myself. Sam and Dash seemed to have finished already, leaving Danny, Kwan, and I the only ones left eating.

Another few minutes go by in silence, broken only by spoons clinking against dishes. Kwan is finishing pretty fast. He's already almost done with his, as am I. Danny's eating pretty slow. He barely looks half way done.

"So…" I say, trailing off in a poor attempt to try and break the awkward, tense silence that seems to have fallen on the room. That's when I realize, with Dash and Kwan here, it's kind of hard to get a conversation going. Usually when it's just the three of us, meaning Sam, Danny, and I, it's pretty easy to find something to talk about. It's hard to have a conversation with people you barely know

I can tell that everybody wants to know what happened. Why was Danny so injured? Who did it to him? He doesn't seem to want to talk yet. I don't blame him. I wouldn't want to talk either. I mean, who would want to relive almost getting stabbed to death? I certainly wouldn't. Danny shivers unexpectedly, straightening, then looking up from his food for the second time since I entered the room. His eyes sweep from one side to the other, then back again, searching the room.

"Stop." I hear Sam say to him quietly. He shudders again.

"Cold..."

"Shhh... You can't do this right now. Someone else will take care of it."

"Yeah, yeah." He said, slouching again to finish his breakfast. He eats a bit faster. I think he's almost done now. I'm just about done with mine now. All thats left in my bowl are those gross cereal crumbs that nobody likes, and a bit of milk, so I get up to put it in the sink. Kwan follows, and now Danny is the only one of us still eating. By now, he seems to be eating only the marshmallows, leaving the cheerio like plain pieces behind. I resist the urge to roll my eyes playfully. Danny will always be Danny, even when he is injured and exhausted.

Footsteps sound from the direction of what I assume to be the stairs, considering they started out relatively quiet, and gradually got louder as they got closer.

"Kwan! Mom just texted me! She told me to tell you she and dad are coming home late in the afternoon!" Yelled a young feminine voice. Based on the sound of it, and the fact that she referred to Kwan's parents as her own as well, I concluded that she was his younger sister. Funny, I didn't know he had a sister. Then again, I really don't know him that well in the first place.

"Hey, Kwan— oh. You're still here?" She asked, directing the question at Dash. "Who the heck are you three? And what's wrong with him?"

"These are a few, uh... friends of ours, from school." Kwan answers. Danny snorts, and I can almost see a sarcastic retort roll off his tongue, but he holds it back. Sam gives him a warning look, but if he sees it, he doesn't show it, instead taking the last few bites of marshmallow out of his cereal.

I don't know if it's just me, but Kwan seems to be deliberately avoiding her second question. So she asks it again, this time directing it at Danny instead of the whole room.

"I, uh, fell. Outside." He answers. She nods, not quite satisfied, before walking over to the fridge and picking out a container of something that looks like yoghurt and grabbing a spoon. She sits down in the chair next to him at the table.

"You look like you've been attacked." She says, matter of factly. "Are you ok?" She asks. It's kind of odd how she does this, actually showing interest in one of her older brother's 'friends'. He flinches at her words. Hard. A spoon clatters to the floor.

"N-no. Sidewalks are just really hard. They kinda hurt."

"Yeah, if sidewalks had fists, or baseball bats."

"Uh..." Danny said, looking around nervously. I know that look. He gets that way when there's a ghost around. Or if he feels threatened. He's looking for an escape. Kwan takes one look at him, seeming to sense his discomfort.

"Uh, maybe you should go back upstairs."

"I'm eating in here." She says. She raises a spoonful of what I thought was peach flavored yogurt to her mouth, as if to prove her point. I still think it's odd that Kwan's little sister was showing concern for what she thought was a friend of her older brother. I mean, I don't have younger siblings, but I'm pretty sure that's not something a sibling would normally do. Not that it's a particularly bad thing to show concern for someone, but it did raise questions that Danny obviously didn't feel comfortable answering. He must've looked pretty bad for her to show that level of concern.

"You know, you're still not supposed to have friends over."

"I told you it was an emergency! Besides didn't I give you a little something not to tell mom and dad? They're not going to find out, right?"

"I know, I know. I remember! I'm just saying." She laughed, putting her hands up in mock defeat. "I won't tell them."

"Good."

"Speaking of parents..." I began, "we should all probably be getting home soon."

"Yeah. I told my mom that the three of us were sleeping over at Sam's house. She'll probably be worried if I don't come home soon." Danny says.

"My parents probably don't even know that I left." Sam replies. Danny pushes his now mostly empty bowl a few inches away from himself, and stands up, careful not to put any weight on his left leg.

Kwan's sister soon finishes her breakfast, then gets up to throw the yogurt cup away. She leaves the room, then heads back up the stairs.

"I should go get my stuff from the bathroom..." Danny says, trailing off as if he doesn't quite know what to do with himself. I mean, he was never really one to ask people to do things for him. He usually did them himself, but right now he obviously can't.

"Sit down, I'll get it for you." Dash says, rolling his eyes. He leaves in the direction of the bathroom, leaving us once again in silence for a few moments.

"Uh... Thanks for, uh, you know letting us stay here." Danny tells Kwan, awkwardly, not used to saying things like that to the jock.

"Don't mention it. It's fine." He answers. Another few moments of awkward silence later, Dash reappears in the doorway carrying a plastic bag full of bloodied clothing and a pair of shoes. He hands it to Danny, who takes it, and almost seems to want to hide it behind his back, but he doesn't. Sam and I walk over to him, ready to help him walk to the front door.

"If you can't walk, I can, y'know carry you to your house or... I don't know...?" Dash says stiffly. The three of us glance at each other quickly, but it's Danny who answers.

"N-no, that's fine. I-I can walk." He stutters. To prove his point, he throws an arm around each of our shoulders for support, and takes a shaky step forward, but not without wincing. Slowly, we're able to walk all the way out the door without tripping. We're a few few Yards down the sidewalk when Dash finally turns to walk down another block. We wait until he's out of sight and out of earshot to start talking.

"Guys, I think I should fly home. I mean my ankle doesn't hurt as much, but I still think I should wait at least another day until I start walking on it." He says, sounding more comfortable talking than he had since really early this morning.

"I think that's a good idea. Just, be careful. I don't want you reopening that cut, and I especially don't want you fighting any ghosts, got it? Not until you're completely healed." Sam answers.

"I can't just—"

"Let Valerie or your parents take care of it. I'm not letting you go out there and hurt yourself more than you already have."

"But... Fine. You win. No ghost fighting."

I honestly can't resist the urge to call them 'lovebirds'. I snicker as the phrase leaves my mouth. They both glare at me. I stop laughing, the smile melting from my face.

"Well, I'll be going now." I say, backing away from them. I watch as Danny waves at me, then says goodbye to Sam. He then transforms in a flash of cool, bluish-white light, and takes off. I continue down the sidewalk toward my house at a run. No point in letting my parents wake up to see that I'm gone.

It takes about 15 minutes to get to my street, and I slow to a stop outside of my house. I brace myself, then open the door as quietly as I can.

The house is silent, and as I step inside, I notice all the the lights are off, a telltale sign that all the occupants were asleep. I creep quietly up the stairs, careful to avoid all areas that I know will creek if I put weight on them. Its no surprise that I know where all of those are. For that, I can thank the years of sneaking into the kitchen at night for a mid-night snack.

When I reach the top, I take a quick detour to my parents' bedroom door. It's closed. I press my ear against it, even though I'm fairly sure they're still asleep, just to reassure myself. I can hear the quiet snores of my dad, and the slow even breathing of my mom. I make a point of darting away from them on the tips of my toes, so as not to make any noise, then make my way to my own door. It's slightly ajar, so I pull it open, hoping that the hinges don't squeak. I make sure to change out oft regular clothes and into the sweatpants and t-shirt I usually wore to bed, then got under the covers, trying to make it look like I had been there all night.

I touch down right outside the front door. I was originally going to just phase through my window, but I decided it would be better if I walk in through the front door. My parents usually get up pretty early to work in the lab, so they might find it a little strange if they come upstairs and find me in my room when they didn't even hear the door open.

I make sure to put as little weight on my foot as possible as I step through. It's at times like these when I'm glad for my ghost powers. Because of them, I'm a lot lighter than a normal human. I've also learned that I can manipulate my weight even when I'm in my human form. It took me weeks to master that little trick, but it was definitely worth the wait. Not only am I able to sneak around much more easily, but for instances like this when walking isn't exactly painless, I'm able to make myself almost weightless, so walking with a broken ankle hurts much less. Of course I can still feel it a little bit, but when I walk like this it feels like it was mildly bruised rather than broken. I'm able to get away with only a slight limp, and as long as you don't look too closely, its not even noticeable. I still think I should wait until tomorrow to start walking on it, but for now, this will have to do.

I make my way to the stairs, and I'm almost halfway up them when I hear a voice call my name from the direction of the lab.

"Danny, is that you?" My mom asks.

"Yeah. I just got back." I tell her. She appears at the bottom of the stairs. I turn around to face her, having already walked half of the way up.

"Did you have a good time with your friends, sweetie?"

"Yeah. Um, we stayed up really late so I'm just gonna take a shower and then go back to sleep for the rest of the day."

"Alright. Just make sure you're done with you're homework."

"I am." I answered honestly.

"Oh, that's good. Do you want me to wake you up for dinner?"

"Sure. Thanks, mom."

"You're welcome." She says, turning to go back to the lab.

"I'll be downstairs with your father if you need anything."

"Ok." She walks all the way back, and I hear the click of a door as he shuts it behind her. I pause for a few moments before heading to my room, dumping the bag with my clothes onto the floor.

I take a quick, cool shower, washing off all of the excess dirt and dried blood. Sam seems to have done a good job with the bandages, and I don't want to take them off. I don't trust myself to redo them correctly when I get out, so I settle with just putting a bit more tape on after they're dry. I then pull on a pair of loose clothes: a solid white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. They fit me better than Kwan's clothing did, but they're no less comfortable. Speaking of those, I should probably wash them and give them back to him, but that's a problem for another day.

I collapse onto my bed, feeling much better now that I was clean, although still beyond tired. With that in mind, I promptly fell asleep.

°•°•°•°•°•°

The next morning started off normal as any. I got up, stumbled through my morning routine, then walked to school with Sam and Tucker. I made sure to manipulate my weight again, making myself about as light as I was when I came home yesterday. My friends were the only ones who noticed my slight limp as I left the house, and I was perfectly okay with that. Now all I had to do was hope Dash and Kwan ignore me as usual.

As we enter the school, no one so much as glances our way. Not that it surprises me. No one ever does. But you can never be too careful. We stop at Sam and Tucker's lockers first, going to mine last, since it was the closest (although not that close) to our first period English class.

"Are you any better?" Sam asks before either of us could open our mouths. I finish putting in my locker combination, then pull the door open.

"I don't know, I mean, I guess so. The swelling on my foot went down enough for me to fit my shoe on. I suppose that's an improvement." I answer.

"What about everything else?" Tucker asks.

"My shoulder is still a little sore."

"What about... all that?" Sam gestures to my stab wound.

"I don't know. I haven't taken off the bandages yet."

"You didn't change them after you took a shower?! Danny, its gonna get infected if you're not careful!"

"You know how bad I am at putting on bandages! I probably would've fucked it up even more if I tried to do that!" I say defensively, in a low sort of half whisper, half yell. Sam sighs.

"Fine, fine. I'll do it. Come to my house after school."

"What if th— never mind. I'll be there."

"Good."

"If you two lovebirds are done arguing, we have another problem."

"We're not lovebirds!" Sam and I yell at the same time, earning a few snickering looks from our classmates. She glares at them, and they turn away. We continue our low conversation.

"What are you gonna do about gym?" Tucker continues, as if he didn't just make the unecessary 'lovebirds' that he always makes.

"Damn! I completely forgot about that!"

"You could just say you forgot your stuff. You'll get a zero for the day, but it's only gym. It's not like it matters." Sam responds.

"Yeah, I guess not." I say, glancing around. Luckily, I don't see the two jocks standing around. At least, not yet. After I finish gathering all the books I need for class, I sling my backpack off of my left shoulder and shove it into the small compartment. I slam the door shut, and lean my back against the metal, hugging my things to my chest to keep from dropping them.

"We still have about 5 minutes before class starts." Tucker states plainly. "Which gives us about…" he pauses, calculating. "Three more minutes to stand around, and two minutes to get to class. That is, if we don't want to be late."

"Which we don't." Sam adds helpfully.

"Right. So, what are the plans for after school? Since there's no ghost fighting allowed, we have way more free time, am I right?"

"I don't know about you, Tuck, but Danny better be at my house." Sam answered through gritted teeth. "You can come by if you want and actually try to get our homework done for once. After I redo his bandages." She added. I rolled my eyes. I love my friends, but sometimes they can be so overprotective. I guess I can't really blame them, I mean, I'm probably the same way with them.

"Do we have to do our homework after school?" I whine, half joking, half serious. I was never one to like homework. I swear our teachers are trying to give us more and more, although it's not like I actually do most of it. But it's also not like I don't try. It's just that there are usually so many ghosts to fight, and by the time I actually try to sit down and get it done, I'm so exhausted that I end up falling asleep on top of it rather than doing it.

"Yes. Unless you want to fail school."

"Fine." I pretend to pout at her expected answer, and she playfully smacks me on the head. I smirk and stick out my tongue.

"Time to head to class now, lovebirds!" Tucker said, looking up from his precious PDA.

"Shut up, Tuck. Don't make me flick you. Because I totally will if you ever say that again." I tell him.

"Oh no Sam, the ghost boy threatened to flick me, whatever shall I do?"

"Run." He turns around dramatically, but isn't able to get away fast enough. I catch him on the back of his head. His red beret serves as a makeshift helmet, effectively blocking my blow. He turns around to face me.

"Ha! Didn't eve— Ow, hey!" He cuts himself off as I flick him on his forehead.

I smirk in his face.

"Next time, you should think before you speak." I try to sound frightening, but I'm unable to keep the smile out of my voice. I shake my head as we continue down the hallway.

I'm surprised to say that we actually got to class on time. Well surprised that I actually got there on time. Sam and Tucker are usually making excuses as to why I'm the one not there.

The first bell rings just after we sit down. Lancer gets up from his desk after a moment of looking at the computer screen sitting on his desk. He looks around, and I can see his eyes pause on me for a few seconds, looking pleased. It seems everyone is here. Everyone except for two people: Dash and Kwan. I think Lancer is surprised it's not me for once. Hell, even I am.

One thing I'm not looking forward to, though, is actually having to sit through an entire hour of Lancer droning on and on. Without any ghostly distractions to help the time pass. Not that I think ghosts terrorizing my town is a good thing, but if I get out of class, I get out of class. It can't be helped.

I almost forgot how long a single period feels. Only five more of those after this one. It's going to be a long day. I stare at the empty piece of notebook paper in front of me, debating whether I should doodle, or actually take notes and pay attention like I'm supposed to be doing. Doodling wins. I pick up a pencil and scratch it across the page.

I do this for about twenty minutes before a door banging open startles me so hard I almost fall out of my chair. It definitely wouldn't be the first time something like that happened, but it was one of the few times I manage to catch myself before it did. I shouldn't be surprised to see Dash and Kwan standing by the door, spitting out random excuses. But for some reason, I was.

"Considering this is your first time being late, I'll let you off with just a warning. But if it ever happens again, I Will be seeing you two in my office after school. Now, sit." Lancer declares. The whole class watches them as they do the walk of shame to their seats, but I soon go back to my random doodling, no longer interested.

"Alrighty then, back to..." He continues to speak, but I'm already tuning him out again. I'll probably regret this later, like when we have a test on the material he's currently covering, but at the moment, I really don't care. After about ten more minutes of mindless doodling, something small hits me on the back of the head before falling to the floor. I look around for it for a few seconds before actually finding the crumpled piece of paper. I make sure Lancer isn't lucky, then carefully unfold it. It's a note from Tucker.

Dude, you're being watched. Be careful.

I turn around in my chair to face him, raising an eyebrow. He simply points to the other side of the room. I follow his finger with my eyes. It's the two jocks, whispering to each other. Two pairs of eyes meet mine, but they quickly turn away when they see me looking. I scribble something under his warning:

What should I do?

I fold it up, then discreetly stick it onto the desk behind mine, then quietly wait for a response. It's comes less than a minute later.

Idk? Pretend you can't walk or something

Don't you think they'll be suspicious?

Honestly? They're idiots. They won't make the connection. Jazz didn't even figure it out until she saw you change, and she's a genius.

I guess you're right. How much longer is this class?

25 minutes.

Ugh.

Sam whacks both of us on the back of the head, hissing 'pay attention. You're both going to get in trouble' in our ears. I crumple the piece of paper we'd been using to communicate in one hand and stuff it in my jeans pocket. I slump in my chair and zone out for the rest of the period, willing the clock above the white board to go faster, but it only seems to inch forward even more slowly.

Surprisingly enough, no ghosts attacked until my third period math class. As I let out a breath of icy air, I heard a small beep, which I assumed to be Valerie's ghost detecting watch. I catch Sam's eyes, and she gives me a look that says don't even think about it.

The remainder of math passes slowly, like all my classes do. Nothing Interesting happened all throughout history, which I had right after math. I passed the time doodling and zoning out, like I usually did when I wasn't fighting ghosts. When the bell rings for lunch, I start. I was not expecting that.

"Awww! Is the ghost boy scared of a little bell?" Tucker teased as we were leaving the room. He laughs.

"Shut up, Tuck. Don't make me flick you again."

"Geez, man, what's with all this unnecessary violence today? That's low, even for you."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean? You so deserved it."

"Fair? I didn't even do anything!"

"Didn't do anything? Do you need your memory checked?"

"Shut up, man."

"Boys, boys, don't kill each other. We still have lunch and then two more classes after this." Sam teases, catching up to us on our way to lunch. It doesn't take long to get there, but the line to get our lunches was long enough to make up for it. We finally sit down, Sam having grabbed a green looking salad, and Tuck and I holding trays full of the school's poor excuse for an even remotely edible meal. Needless to say I spent more of the lunch period poking at it with my fork than actually eating it. I couldn't bring myself to take more than a few bites. Tucker, on the other hand, was eating it eagerly, as if it actually tasted good. I watch him with a disgusted expression on my face, trying not to throw up in my mouth. After about five minutes of this I had to look away. Sam's probably thinking along those same lines.

"How the hell can you possibly be enjoying that... that shit. I'm pretty sure it doesn't even qualify as food." She says.

"Yeah, says the girl eating a salad. Honestly, that's probably worse. Right Danny?"

"Dude, I don't think anything could be worse than this crap. I'd much rather have a salad." I answer, much to the amusement of Sam and myself.

"Oh no. Not you too." Tucker says, horrified.

"What?"

"Sam, I think your vegetarianism is rubbing off."

"You're saying that like it's a bad thing." She scoffed.

"Maybe not for you."

"I'm gonna go throw this out," I decide, leaving them to their bickering. I get up and walk to the nearest trash can, dumping my mostly untouched food into it without regret. I can't say I wasn't hungry, but the school's food always grosses me out, so I sort of lost my appetite. I try to shuffle slowly back to our table, thinking it would be best to miss the majority of their argument, so I don't get sucked into it like usual. It's a bit annoying to be honest.

"—You can't live your life eating only vegetables. It's not—"

"Not what? Healthy? It's better than eating only meat. At least I won't suffer from cholesterol problems at age 20"

"Children, children. Lets not have this conversation right now." I cut in.

"Children? Oh please—"

"Well what else am I supposed to say? That's what you're acting like!"

"Tuck, you know he's right. Lets just drop it."

"Thank you." I say, trying and failing to come up with something to change the subject. Luckily, I don't have to, because Sam, ever the concerned best friend, does just that.

"Danny, you know you have to eat something." She says, pushing toward me her half eaten, slightly wilted, but perfectly edible salad. I push it back to her.

"So do you."

"Danny—"

"I have food at my house! Jeez, you worry too much. You're starting to sound like my mom." She rolls her eyes at me, and I glare at her without actually meaning anything by it. I estimate we have about 7 minutes left of this 20 minute period.

"Hey, Tuck, what do we have after this?" I ask.

"Seriously? Don't you know your own schedule by now?"

"No, that's what you're here for. What do we have?"

"Period 5. So science."

"Fuck."

"What? Did you not do your homework?"

"No I actually did it, I just..." I trail off, glancing around the large room. I focus my attention on two sets of eyes, staring widely at me, almost disbelievingly. My blood runs cold as I register who it is they belong to: Dash and Kwan.