TREADING WATER - Chapter Two

He was swimming in a sea of other people's expectations. Men had drowned in seas like that.

― Robert Jordan

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High school clearly was not going to be a walk in the park, but all things considered, Danny's first day was going well.

They had had to sit through the obligatory welcome assembly, during which Jazz gave an 'inspiring' speech that none of the students listened to, followed by a speech by the vice principal and head English teacher, Mr. Lancer, about how their entire futures depended on these next four years. That had turned Danny's blood cold. So maybe Lancer was being over-dramatic, but his words rang true – if Danny did not get good grades here, he wouldn't get into any prestigious science or engineering programs in college and then would never get into NASA's space program.

It instilled a sense of urgency in Danny that he didn't know what to do with, and he sat through first period tapping his fingers against his thighs.

First period was Freshman English with Lancer, who was even less pleasant up close. He carried himself with a smug air and had a voice that droned. Jazz had once told Danny that Lancer liked to shout out book titles – and while it was funny, it was usually when something bad happened. That was looking to be the most interesting part of the class, but even it would be lost on Danny, who wouldn't know most of the titles anyway.

It was an interesting mix of people in first period English, almost like the office ladies who made the schedules had wanted to have a social experiment.

… and as soon as he made that comparison, Danny realized he'd been spending too much time around Jazz.

… but it was true. In this single classroom, there were football jocks, cheerleaders, band geeks, choir nerds, honors-track students, a couple of science/math protégés (who so happened to be in the chess club), some actual nerds – the kind who played table-top games like D&D or Magic the Gathering – and finally, the two outcasts who didn't fit into any group and had just been dubbed 'losers', Danny and Tucker. They were just missing some Goth students or the collection would have been complete.

It was so that, as soon as every student realized who their allies were, there was a mad dash to grab seats near the people they knew. Danny and Tucker, used to being walked over, had grown really good at moving quickly around people and were able to grab some prime seats in the back of the room. Sliding into them, they grinned at each other and exchanged a high-five.

"Yes!"

As it turned out, Samantha Manson either was not very good at moving through people or just didn't care very much, because she was the last person to claim a seat, and the only seat left open was next to Danny, between him and the window.

Paulina Sanchez saw this and gave Samantha a look that might have been called 'sympathetic' by a person who did not know how to read human facial expressions. To everyone else, it looked more like 'spitefully amused'.

"Oh, that's too bad," said the Latina, barely hiding a smile.

Samantha Manson just shrugged and sat down, immediately drawing out a book.

Tucker jabbed Danny sharply in the side. Ignoring Danny's wince and glare, he gestured frantically at the girl to Danny's left. The message was clear – this is your chance!

Danny figured that was true. If he didn't suck up the courage to talk to this popular-but-sad-looking girl right now, he knew he would sit next to her for an entire year in silence.

He swallowed nervously. He was so bad at talking to pretty girls. And Samantha Manson was pretty, no doubt about it. She had smooth black hair that was cut at chin length and a widow's peak that made her bangs have a 'swept' look as they hung to one side of her face. She wore a black and purple tank-top over simple jeans, although both were probably designer brands. Her skin was fair, unlike most of the very tan girls on the A-list, causing her dark make-up to be dramatic over her features.

To be honest, Danny had never been so close to her before. He almost had the urge to make sure he was wearing pants. No, scratch the almost part, his eyes had already flicked down there – and yes, there were pants. At least he had that much going for him.

No, everyone else had pants, too. Darn it!

Come on, Fenton. Cool it. You can do this.

Danny cleared his throat. "Uh… Hi. I'm Danny."

Samantha blinked and looked up from her book suspiciously. "Why are you talking to me?" she asked. Before Danny could answer, she continued, purple eyes narrowed. "Look, if you're trying to get me to pay attention to you because I'm 'rich' or 'popular' or 'friends' with Paulina, you're wasting your time, and you're wasting mine. I don't enjoy leading people on or playing with their feelings, and shallow losers like you who think they can climb the social ladder by following around girls like a puppy dog are just pathetic. So, save us both the trouble."

She turned back to her book.

Danny gaped. He heard Tucker snickering behind him.

Okay, so Danny was used to being shut down by people on the A-list. Dash had bullied him since elementary school, Valerie had put a dagger in his heart last year, and Paulina looked at Danny like he was some gum she had found stuck to the bottom of her shoe. But all he had said to this girl was 'Hi'. She had no reason to assume the worst about him.

Danny really hated being called a 'loser'. His embarrassment evaporated.

"Hey, I just wanted to introduce myself, say 'Hi', because you look so freakin' lonely all the time. Whatever. Clearly it was my mistake." He glared down at his desk, wishing Tucker would stop laughing.

"You think I look lonely?" asked Samantha. Danny glanced back at her; she looked surprised.

"Well, yeah," he muttered.

Lancer chose that moment to walk into the room and begin class. He passed out a syllabus and droned on about it for the rest of the period, and Danny's thoughts soon drifted away from both Samantha and English class, back to thoughts of NASA and his future, and his fingers started tapping nervously against his thighs.

Because of the assembly, they were on a shortened schedule. All of the classes that day were about the syllabi, and it grew boring really quickly. On the whole, though, all of Danny's classes looked doable, as long as he applied himself. His nerves faded as the day continued.

After English, Danny did not see Tucker again until lunch, during which time they grabbed a table together.

"Dude," said Tucker, chuckling. He took a big bite from his hamburger, and through his mouthful continued, "I can't get over what Samantha Manson said to you."

Danny scowled. "I don't understand why being 'popular' makes people think they have the right to be mean to everyone else. It doesn't make sense."

As if on cue, Dash Baxter passed behind Danny and roughly shoved the back of his head, laughing.

"My case in point," said Danny, patting down his hair. "My parents would kill me if I acted like that. They'd literally take me out to sea and throw me in with the merpeople. I mean, I'm sure I'd drown first, but you get the picture."

"Yeah, my parents, too," said the techno-geek. "Only with fewer mythical creatures. Speaking of mythical creatures… you up for some more Doomed tonight?"

"Duh. Of course."

Tucker slurped loudly at his soda. "Oh yeah, did you notice how she stared at you for the rest of class?"

Danny frowned. "What? Who?"

"Who do you think, Mr. Clueless? Samantha Manson."

His brows rose. "She did?" He hadn't noticed at all.

"Yeah! You must have left an impression on her. I wouldn't be surprised if she never spoke to you again. That, or completely ruined your high school existence. Girls are scary."

Danny slapped a hand over his face. "Great, Fenton. First day of high school, and you're already blowing it."

"Don't give up, Danny. We're getting girlfriends this year, remember? And I think I have just the plan. This weekend, you and I are going to the beach."

Danny's look was skeptical. "The beach? As in, 'fun in the sun' and 'hitting the surf' and all that?"

"Exactly," said Tucker, grinning. "Listen, it's fool-proof. Girls like guys who are athletic, tanned, and comfortable walking around without shirts. We just have to show them that's who we are, too."

"Except, we're none of those things."

"You're missing the point, Danny. Girls like those types of guys, and so girls go to the beach, where those guys are. They don't go to the arcade, where we are. So, we're totally off their radars right now. To get on their radars, we need to go to them, and therefore, to the beach."

"Tuck, there's still the problem of us being scrawny, pale, and most comfortable when fully clothed."

"Walk the walk, my friend. Walk the walk."

"Right," Danny drawled.

"Then you're with me! Saturday?" Tucker held out a hand.

"Though I'll probably regret it…" Danny grasped his friend's hand and shook. "Fine."

They spent the rest of lunch strategizing over how to get to the next boss in Doomed.

Yes, all things considered, Danny's first day at Neptune High was going better than he had hoped – that was, until the end of sixth period.

It was math class with Mr. Falluca. The teacher had finished going over his syllabus early and had decided to let the students – whose attention spans had become nonexistent – talk among themselves for the last few minutes of class.

Tucker wasn't in this class with him, so Danny spent the time staring at the clock, thinking about how he would take a nap when he got home, and trying to block out the voices of Dash and his friends, who were sitting behind him. Apparently try-outs for the football team were happening during the next period, and Dash was 'pumped'.

Danny couldn't care less. All it meant was that Dash would become quarterback and have yet another reason to like himself too much.

Finally, the bell rang. Danny stood up, grabbed his books, and started walking to the door of the classroom, only to trip as someone stuck their foot out in front of him. Danny fell to the floor, catching himself on his hands but otherwise sprawling out on the ground.

Whoever had tripped Danny probably had not meant for Dash Baxter, who had been following right behind the smaller boy, to trip, too. But Dash, not paying attention, stumbled over Danny's legs and toppled forward, and Danny heard a sickening 'smack' as Dash's face slammed into a desk before both Dash and the desk crashed to the floor. Danny quickly scrambled to his feet and backed away.

The room went quiet. Dash groaned and sat up, holding a hand to his face in an attempt to stop the blood that was quite literally gushing from his nose. "Fenton," he growled, voice slightly garbled. The phrase 'if looks could kill' passed through Danny's mind.

Mr. Falluca was soon at the blonde's side. "Mr. Baxter! Come on, let's get you to the nurse's office."

"Nurse?" Dash parroted incredulously. "But I've got football tryouts next period!"

"And a broken nose," said the math teacher. Despite being a foot shorter than the boy, Mr. Falluca was somehow able to wrestle the reluctant Dash to his feet and guide him out of the room. They left a trail of blood droplets in their wake.

The students all turned their stares on Danny, who gulped. Why did it suddenly feel like he was on the executioner's block?

Danny hurried to his final class of the day – Spanish. Thankfully, Tucker was there, too. By unspoken agreement, they claimed two desks at the back of the room.

Tucker noticed Danny's pale face immediately. "You okay?"

Danny shook his head. "What do you think Dash would do to a guy who broke his nose?"

"Wait, you broke Dash's nose?"

"Kind of. Not really. I mean, yeah, but I didn't mean to. Someone tripped me first!"

"Hang on, start over. You broke Dash's nose," said Tucker, deadpan.

"It was an accident. Someone tripped me, and I tripped Dash, and Dash hit a desk with his face. You should have seen the blood. It was everywhere."

"I wish I could have seen it. That's awesome!"

"No, it's not," said Danny, turning two shades paler. He buried his face in his arms. "Dash is going to kill me."

"Yeah, probably," said Tucker lightly.

"Not helping, Tuck."

Spanish passed in a flash. Danny hurried to his locker, agreeing to meet Tucker at the front of the school. He just wanted to get his bag and go home. Maybe if he could avoid Dash until the next day, the blonde's anger would cool overnight.

Danny opened his locker, only for it to slam shut at second later. Dash held his hand against it, fingers splayed. He loomed over Danny threateningly. Danny saw that Dash's nose was red, and he had bits of bloody gauze sticking out his nostrils. Already, bruises were forming under his eyes – which were livid.

"Fenton," Dash growled, narrowing his eyes. Danny could have sworn that the metal of his locker was groaning under Dash's weight.

"Uh, Dash," said Danny, taking a step back. Dash took a step forward and fisted the front of Danny's shirt, pulling the smaller boy forward.

The other students in the hallway hushed, either evacuating the scene or gathering in a circle to watch.

"G-glad to see you're feeling better," Danny stammered.

"Feeling better?" hissed Dash; flecks of spit hit Danny's face. "Do you realize what you've done?"

"Well, technically, it was-"

"I missed football tryouts because of you!"

"…So?"

Dash shook Danny, rattling his head. "So? So I won't get to be quarterback! I won't even get to be on the varsity team!"

"What's the big deal? Aren't there make-ups?" said Danny, trying to pull out of Dash's grip. He couldn't even budge.

"A make-up? Are you kidding? For a guy who broke his nose by tripping over a dweeb? I don't think so!"

"You'll still get to be on the team! E-eventually…"

"That's not good enough! I was supposed to be the quarterback! My future was resting on this. You've ruined my life!"

"Don't you think you're over-reac-" Danny could not get the words out, because Dash punched him in the face.

Still, the would-be football jock did not release the younger boy, so his punch just flung Danny's head back, only for it to whip back forward. Dash pulled his hand back and struck again, hitting Danny's eye, and this time Danny fell to the ground.

His vision was swimming. He was pretty sure his lip was split, because that was probably blood he tasted. His face hurt so badly he could hardly feel it, and Danny wondered if Dash had knocked his eye out. Could a person hit hard enough to do that?

Suddenly, Danny couldn't breathe, and his back was colliding with the lockers.

Oh. It seemed Dash had kicked him in the gut.

"Lord of the Flies, Mr. Baxter! What are you doing?!"

Through tears and wheezing, Danny watched a sideways image of Mr. Lancer grabbing Dash's arms behind his back.

"Mr. Foley, get Daniel out of here!"

Was Tucker here? He must have been. Danny was now being led down the hall, stumbling, one arm wrapped over Tucker's shoulders.

"You'll pay for this, Fenton!" Dash shouted after them. "You hear me? You'll pay!"

Dash's threat sent a shiver down Danny's spine, and then they were outside.

Tucker led Danny down the street, to the edge of campus, before Danny gestured that he wanted to sit down. His friend gingerly helped him sit on the grass and then sat beside him. They were both quiet for a minute.

"You know," said Tucker soberly, "when I said he'd probably kill you, I wasn't being serious."

Danny prodded his face. Thankfully, he could see straight again, and his breathing had calmed down. Still, everything hurt, and he really, really wanted to crawl in bed, for several days. "You think I have a concussion?"

"Did you hit your head?"

"No. But Dash did."

"I'll say. But I think your face took the brunt of it. You look like, like… well, whatever you look like, it's not pretty."

"That bad?" It had to be bad if Tucker couldn't even think of a joke to make about it.

Danny's bottom lip was split, and the inside was cut open, too, where it had hit his teeth. He could already feel it starting to swell. Dash had also hit Danny's eye, and while Danny could see through it, it felt like it was also swelling. As for his stomach… simply put, it hurt to move.

"You wanna go to the hospital?"

"You're suggesting that I go to the hospital? You hate hospitals."

Tucker shrugged. "Hey, they do pick-ups. Obviously I wouldn't go with you."

Danny shook his head and then winced, feeling like his blood was sloshing around in his head. "Nah, I'll probably be okay. Just gotta get home. And try to explain this to my mom."

"Fun."

"If I'm lucky, I can just sneak up to my room and avoid my family until I heal. What is that, like, a couple of weeks?"

Danny was not lucky. Tucker dropped Danny off at his front door before also heading home. As soon as Danny opened the door, he heard from the kitchen – "Danny! You're home! How was your first-"

Maddie Fenton rounded the corner into the living room; she was wearing an apron over her wetsuit, probably in the middle of making dinner. She froze upon seeing her son, and then rushed to his side.

"What happened?!" She took his shoulder in one hand and grabbed his chin with the other, turning his head side to side as she inspected the damage. "Who did this to you?"

Danny avoided meeting her eyes. "It… it's nothing. I… fell down the stairs. Like, from the top." Danny had been bullied at school for years; he had sworn high school would be a new start. He was ashamed to admit the truth to his mom – that he was still a weakling and an outcast and a loser.

Danny could not tell if she believed him or not. She led him into the kitchen and sat him at the kitchen table. Maddie pulled a bag of frozen peas from the freezer, wrapped it in a towel, and guided Danny's hand to hold it against his eye. "Here, sweetheart… I'll find something to clean up your lip."

"Thanks, Mom," Danny mumbled. Maddie walked out of the room just as Jazz walked into it. She sat down across from Danny, placing several textbooks and a notebook on the table. Danny wasn't surprised that she was already home; being able to drive had its perks.

"Still being bullied, huh? Was it Dash Baxter?"

Danny readjusted the peas. "What, you didn't see? I thought the whole school was there."

"What do you mean?" Jazz's aloofness finally melded into sincere concern.

"Dash tried to kill me," Danny explained. He paused, and his eyes widened in horror. "I think he really wanted to kill me."

"Come on, Dash is not that great, but he's no killer."

"I don't know. If Lancer hadn't stopped him, I'd look a lot worse." He looked up at his older sister. "Don't tell Mom and Dad?"

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. What's your story this time?"

"Stairs."

"Smooth."

They sat in silence for another second, before Jazz smiled sadly at Danny. "Are you going to be okay? You know you can talk to me if you ever want to."

"I'm fine. But… thanks." He offered her a small smile in return.

Just then, their mother walked back into the room, carrying a bottle of peroxide, a cotton swab, and a band-aid. She knelt in front of Danny and began to clean up his face.

Maddie tutted. "You're going to have to be more careful, Danny. You're going to seriously hurt yourself someday."

Danny flinched as she dabbed at his face. "Yeah, I know. I'll try."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day at school, Danny discovered that Dash had been suspended for three weeks. Not only that, he had lost all extracurricular privileges – which meant he wouldn't be allowed on the football team in any capacity.

Three weeks with no Dash. Danny should have been happy. Somehow, he could only feel dread at the news.

This wasn't over.