By the time I had fought off the sickness, it was Friday again. I didn't want to pull myself out of bed, but I forced myself to. The good news was that I no longer hurt everywhere. The bad news was that the ghosts had decided to torment me again and now about three of my ribs were half-mended after being broken the night before. I still hadn't confessed to Danny, trying to piece together my feelings and trying to find evidence that he liked me the same way I liked him. I didn't want my heart to get shattered by his rejection. I could take a cracked heart, one that would come from never being with him. But a shattered one would kill me.
Dash tried to instigate another fight that morning, but I was in control of my emotions now. The sight of him didn't send me into a flurry of attacks. Instead, I just mumbled a helpless, frightened apology and hurried away. I didn't even notice that Danny was trying to grab hold of my hand. He managed to take hold of it in class, and his rough hand caressed my soft one. Briefly, I wondered if my hand was too soft for him. He thumbed the back of my hand and I fought my blush, ultimately losing. I tightened my grip on his hand just a little. Just enough that he felt it.
At lunch, when Danny went to go throw out his trash, Sam hammered me on why Danny was holding my hand up until now. I blushed and, flustered, tried to tell her that he was just being cautious because the sickness might be hanging around still. She raised one eyebrow but didn't push me further, as Danny was coming back now. Her expression told me everything that I needed to know; she would be pestering me about this next period, and she wasn't giving up until she got an answer.
Danny took hold of my hand again and just held it. He was either oblivious to my blush or pretending that he didn't see it. But I know what I saw. I saw a rather pleased look on his face, and as he talked with Tucker it felt to me like they were using code words. I narrowed my eyes at Sam, who smiled deviously and began writing down something.
"Hey, Rose, could you look over this for me?" she asked innocently, acting as though it was that essay that Mr. Lancer wanted by the end of the week.
"Sure, Sam," I agreed happily, and I took the paper from her. So she knew about the code words, it seemed. I read over the paper, smiling innocently. I used a red pen to circle certain words and I pretended to make spelling corrections and suggestions to others, and neither of the other boys were even paying attention. Danny thumbed the back of my hand again and I squeezed it just a little, just enough that he'd know I'd felt it.
D: I think he likes me back.
T: No kidding, dude. He has to fight off a blush every time you do anything at all. He's definitely into you.
D: Yeah, I noticed. His hand is actually pretty soft. I wonder if mine is too tough for him.
T: Probably not, or else he'd have complained about it by now.
D: Not if he likes me back. He'd probably bear it just to hold my hand.
T: Probably.
I shook my head and stifled a laugh, though it came out as a giggle. Danny thought too highly of himself. I'd have complained about his hand being too rough if it was too rough, no matter what. But it wasn't too rough, not at all. I kept reading what Sam had written.
T: Still, maybe you should start using lotion on your hands. Don't want to hurt him if you like him.
D: Yeah, maybe. Do you really think he likes me back, though? I mean, he's so shy and quiet and nice. I think he'd let me hold his hand if he thought that was what I wanted to do, even if he didn't want to.
T: Oh, yeah. Uh, I don't know what to do about that. I guess we should just keep looking for evidence.
D: Yeah, I guess.
The conversation ended there, and I turned over the paper to find it blank. As that was what I wanted, I quickly wrote out a note to Sam.
R: Looks like you were right, he does like me back. But there's no need to make this easy for him. We should use code of our own.
Sam wrote her response soon enough.
S: Let's.
***line break***
We spent the entire gym period coming up with our own code to talk with. We practiced with it until it became easy to slip into, and we used it to talk around Danny and Tucker whenever we needed to talk about anything important. Even better, we didn't share it with either of the other boys whereas Sam knew exactly what their code was and could crack it easily.
"Say, Sam," I said as we walked home, using our new code. "Do you think you could share your homework answers with me? I didn't understand that one problem from that one science question." Meaning: Hey, Sam, I think it's time to annoy our friends.
Sam scowled in a very good imitation of being angry. "I won't give you the answers, but I'll teach you how to do it yourself. Then you won't fail that test on that one day." AKA: Yeah, sounds like a good idea.
So we used our code the entire way home, and even Danny became suspicious of our talk. He asked me about it, using the pout that almost always got his way, and I pretended to give in to him. I told him that I really did need Sam's science answers because I actually had no idea what was said in science class today. Lying, of course, but then I'd always been a good liar. No one really expected a kid like me to lie, and it came in handy more than once. He crumbled when he saw my innocent face and went back to talking code with Tucker. I sneaked a look at Sam and saw that she had pulled out her phone and was discreetly typing down what they were saying.
***line break***
Danny opted to drag me to his house that night for a "much-needed sleepover" and I nearly didn't finish packing before he dragged me there. I had just enough time to snag my headphones and mp3 player off of my desk before he phased me through the wall and flew me to his house. I hated it when other people phased me through things. It gave me the shivers. It was strange to think that, being half-ghost and having my normal temperature be at 92 degrees Fahrenheit. But, well, it did give me the shivers.
Danny almost managed to sneak me inside without anyone noticing. Almost. Jazz happened to turn the corner, leading her mother along when they spotted me. With a squeal, Jazz pounced on me and hugged me tightly. Apparently, she missed me. She nearly made me pass out, but Danny managed to wrestle me away and hold me close himself before I could suffocate. Mrs. Fenton hugged me too, and she sent me to Danny's room while she scolded Danny for not telling her he was bringing me over. Before I was out of hearing range, I heard Mrs. Fenton say something that made me blush and walk faster.
"You better not do anything with him tonight, Danny," she said sternly. "If I hear anything from your room besides quiet snoring or laughter..."
"Mom!" he complained. I imagined that he was blushing too, what with her insinuations about what we were going to be doing. "I thought you trusted me to be more responsible than that! Besides, I haven't..."
I got out of earshot before I could hear whatever else Danny was going to say, but that also meant I was away from Mrs. Fenton's response. For better or for worse, I couldn't hear anything more. I set my things up in Danny's room while I waited for him, but I didn't expect him to phase through the door silently and tackle me from behind, sending me sprawling on his bed.
I squeaked in surprise and he laughed, climbing off of me and pulling me close. "Sorry," he whispered into my ear. "Not for knocking you over, but for not being sorry about it."
"So you're sorry you're not sorry?" I giggled, despite myself.
He chuckled himself and released me after a little bit. We played games, I introduced him to new songs, and he made me laugh more than I ever had before. He noticed me getting sleepy around 11 pm, so he pulled me into bed and shut off the lights with a flicker of his ghost powers. I tried to protest against him, but he hushed me and made me lie still in his arms. Before I could protest again, I found myself lulled by the security of his embrace.
So I settled down and snuggled into his arms, ignoring my rising blush, and fell asleep. I was happy enough not to notice that Mrs. Fenton and Jazz checked in on us through the door that night, and one or both of them may have taken a picture. I was also content enough not to notice that a certain two ghosts checked in on us that night. A spiky-blue-flame-haired ghost with a guitar and punk-style green haired ghost who liked to style my hair.