Paulina could feel the adrenaline course through her veins as she was tossed into the air, anticipating the equally exhilarating feeling of falling back down– where, she knew, her friends and teammates were waiting with open arms to catch her.
Cheerleading, she had discovered at a young age, was exciting– it was dangerous, it was fun, and she was good at it. So it had really come as no surprise when she'd been selected as the top of the pyramid once again, and she got to take pride in being the star of the show– even when they were just practicing.
This time, however, Star lost her grip– and Paulina went tumbling down, down into the football field, where none of the cheerleaders were prepared to grab her.
Paulina let out a short shriek and felt it when she hit the field, the impact vibrating through her body– her arms and legs surely scraped up, if not broken altogether.
As the pyramid dismantled itself and the cheerleaders on the ground came to her aid, she took a few quick breaths, felt her heartbeat slow down.
The ringing in her ears quieted down, and she could hear the girl leaning over her, her arm wrapped around Paulina's shoulders as she tried to regain her vision.
She was asking, "Paulina– Paulina, can you hear me? Are you okay?"
Shaking, she looked up to see her teammates all around her, and she righted herself into a sitting position.
Was she okay? Tiffanie had asked her.
Well? Was she?
Nothing felt broken, at least– the initial shock and pain from hitting the ground had gone away. There were no shooting pains anywhere in her body– just a stinging burn on her hands and knees.
"I… I think so," she said, turning her arms to look more closely at the damage.
She didn't see any damage on her hands as she had thought– no, instead, her jaw dropped as she watched blue scales recede into her skin.
She quickly moved to stand– she wanted to check the skin of her knees, next– but Tiffanie pulled her back to sitting.
"No, Paulina," the girl chided. "If you fractured a bone, you're going to break it."
"Right," she said, numb, puzzling over the scales.
They had looked familiar– and more than that, they had felt familiar. The memories of the day she had been a dragon were hazy, but seeing the scales now seemed to remind her of what she had been forgetting.
Had that really happened? Was that real?
Paulina rubbed the skin of her hands where the scales had been, and she felt their strength, their sturdiness. She ran her fingers across her forearm and could feel the plates of the scales deep under her skin.
Paulina smiled now, at their familiarity.
She remembered– she had been a dragon, once, and it seemed she was a dragon, still- if only in part.
…
Across the field, hiding behind the rest of the team, Star was studying her own hands, feeling their tangibility. She made a tight fist, then released, opening her palms once again– solid, just as she expected.
"It's okay, Star," Jeremy assured her. "Paulina's okay."
He had been supporting Paulina's other side when it happened.
Star shook her head, feeling herself begin to sob.
Her hands were solid. Her hands were solid– so why the hell had she dropped Paulina?
…
"Start with the vegetables, then we'll move on to the flowers, okay?"
Sam had managed to drag Danny along to help her at the greenhouse– she certainly needed it, if she was going to keep growing this many crops this often. And hey, he got free veggies out of it, so how could he complain?
Obedient, Danny followed her instructions and began to intangibly pull the roots out of the ground– the potatoes, carrots, onions. Across from him, Sam was twisting tomatoes and tomatillos off their vines.
"Huh, how's that for luck," he commented.
"Hmm?" Sam asked, absentmindedly.
He pointed at the tomatoes and motioned back to the roots in his hands. "They're all ready to harvest today."
She almost dropped the tomatillo she was holding. "Oh! Yeah," she said, stumbling over her words. "No, I just timed them right this season," she lied.
Danny hummed, impressed and none the wiser.
Sam breathed out a sigh of relief.
It had been going on for a few months now.
She had been freed from Undergrowth's grasp safe and unharmed, but not unchanged– and she liked it that way.
The lasting effects from her time under his control, it seemed, was enough to grow all of her plants double time, and to keep them alive for twice as long. She'd tested this to its full extent a few times, running her arm across the ground and watching in awe as the grass she'd come into contact with had grown in height. If she walked barefoot across her yard, she knew, she'd leave behind large patches of clovers and flowers instead of footprints.
Just thinking about it made her giddy, her heart skipping a beat and a wild grin slipping onto her face.
It was only a fraction of what Undergrowth could do, but she'd take it, if it meant it was her's.
Sam didn't entirely know why, but something in her told her to keep this quiet. Danny didn't need to know about this– he'd just worry– which meant that Tucker didn't need to know about it either, and certainly not her parents, or anyone else for that matter.
This was her power, and it was her secret, and it was nothing to worry about. She had it under control.
Behind her ear, at the base of her skull, she felt another thorn breach through her skin, and she took a shaky breath, resisting the urge to become nauseous. She shifted a few locks of hair to keep it hidden and returned to the tomato plants– she'd pry it out later.
She had a greenhouse to tend to, now.
…
This argument was getting heated.
Both Tucker and Dash could feel themselves getting increasingly frustrated, Tucker's heart burning, and Dash's hands shaking.
Why Lancer had thought pairing them for a project was a good idea, neither of them could say. They were equally stubborn, and while Dash flaunted his physical prowess and social superiority, Tucker pushed him back down with his own pride, brandishing his intelligence against the other boy.
"The topic was my idea," Tucker hissed. "I should be the one to lead it."
"So? People are going to listen to me more than they'll listen to you."
"At least I'll know what I'm talking about!"
Dash scoffed, shaking his head at the bleachers across from them– at least they were brainstorming out here in the cool air, rather than being stuck in that stuffy library as Foley had suggested.
For his part, Tucker crossed his arms and set his jaw. He couldn't believe Dash– the guy had to be in charge of everything he did. It wasn't enough that he was the king of Casper High and the captain of the football team– no, he also had to take control of their group project. Something Tucker was actually interested in, for once.
As the bitterness seemed to set in, and his anger failed to dissipate, they noticed the sky around them growing dark, clouds gathering and quickly blocking the sun.
Dash and Tucker frowned, and when raindrops began to fall over them and across the football field, their jaws dropped.
"Uh," Dash started dumbly.
Tucker shrugged– he didn't remember rain being in the forecast for the day, and he didn't recall there being enough precipitation in the air for a storm to start, either.
Rather than running back into the school to dry off, the two boys stuck around on the bleachers, laying back in the rain and laughing– apparently a little rain was just what they needed to chill out.
There had been a day, only a few weeks ago, that Tucker had been able to summon such storms with just the sweep of a hand.
But there was no way that this storm was his fault, right?
The scepter that had given him that power was long gone, and its control over Tucker had gone with it.
Still, as he felt himself calm down– his breathing slowed, his muscles relaxed, and the rain began to let up.
The clouds were parting, the storm disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
How was that even possible?
Beside him, Dash seemed to have shrunk from the storm, swimming in his rain soaked clothes. He relented, "Fine, Foley– you win. You can be in charge."
Tucker nodded, unsure now. Suddenly, the project seemed so insignificant.
…
Dash had a secret.
It had been a few weeks since he'd been shrunk by crazy Jack Fenton's stupid ectoplasm vacuum cleaner (or whatever that thing was), and his parents didn't care– if they even believed him.
He hadn't been harmed, it seemed. There weren't any lasting effects, anyway.
But Dash was starting to think that there were.
It had started off small.
Kids he used to tower over were able to look him in the eyes, some days. His clothes seemed to grow a size too large, only to fit again the next day. Sometimes he had to draw his shoes extra tight– always, he had to wear a belt.
It was weird, but nothing he couldn't handle.
But then it got worse.
He'd find himself with the football and no choice but to run, hoping to get it to the receivers in time– and then he'd slip, like a boy running in his father's shoes, fumbling the ball and getting dogpiled by guys from both teams.
The weight of all of those guys, it pressed down on him, and he'd feel himself shrink. The football he'd be hugging to his chest would become loose from his arms and find its way into some other football player's hands.
It happened in class, too, although no one seemed to notice. He'd shrink under the scrutiny of his classmates' eyes, especially when he was called up to the front of the room. It didn't help when kids like Foley made him feel stupid.
So, he kept it a secret.
Because if anyone found out? They'd have the power to make him feel smaller than he already was.
…
The children of Amity Park did not emerge unaffected by the ghost activity in their town.
They were surrounded by ambient ectoplasm at all times, the otherworldly energy permeating throughout the town. It was in every breath they took, and every drop of water that they drank. It was in every piece of technology the Fentons built– every piece of technology that Amity Park adopted into their homes and schools and businesses.
Light reflected off the children's eyes in such a way that it was common to mistake them for green. They had thick skin, which saved them from many injuries, but were prone to clumsiness, dropping their belongings and tripping on their feet. Even gravity seemed to favor them- they could jump higher and run further than any of their parents ever could.
The children who had the most interactions with ghosts, however, seemed to develop the strangest symptoms– even going so far as adopting the powers of the ghosts they'd known.
There were stories of teenagers who could walk through dreams after chance encounters with Nocturne, and other stories of children who could bend shadows. There was supposedly a girl who could draw out sadness, allow for healing to take place, and a boy whose voice could draw a crowd.
These stories… they could never quite be confirmed, but everyone who goes to Amity Park says the same thing.
There was something strange about the city, and Amity's children were proof of it.