Disclaimer: Um, yeah, I don't own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does. Please, don't sue... I'm trying to save up for a car, kthnx. :)

Author's Note: Okay, I have no clue where this came from, and I don't know how well it's going to take off. I'm not sure if it'll have as great of a welcoming as 'Ten Things a Sweet Guy Would Do' but, hell, it's worth a shot. I've already started mapping this out, and it seems like I'm going down the drama route this time. With how I'm thinking, too, I'm aiming for about... six long chapters. This is just the prologue to set up the story. So don't worry, the rest of the chapters are going to be much longer and will have more information in them.

Oh, and as a fair warning, with a new boyfriend, a license, and the end of school coming up, I'm not sure how fast I'll be able to update. You know I will eventually, though. Proper prodding does the trick, you know.

Review to let me know what you think!

Oh, and you'll understand the title in a later chapter.

Reach for the Stars

Miss A. LaRosa

April 23, 2006

One thing that a person, save a certain ghost, can not do is control was time. No matter how much you wanted it to stay still during a given moment, it is impossible to do so. You could wish for it to happen, but the likelihood of something like that happening is absolutely farfetched. A girl can't help but dream, can she? I have wished every day... somehow... that things would go to being the way they were before our fight. I miss being in his arms, not being at arm's length at all times.

I'll admit, it was the biggest mistake I had made in my life; I chose to go, to move far, far away to New York for college after that horrible fight like a non-confrontational coward. We both said things that weren't true, I hope, and stormed off in our own separate ways. The reason why the fight made me upset, most of all, was that the argument was over something completely stupid, too, nothing of actual substance (I thought, at least). It wasn't like he had gotten me pregnant and I was breaking the news to him after it was too late; no, it was over the fact that he needed to do his own homework and bother with his own studies if he wanted to go somewhere in life (something he should have already known/been doing in the first place). I guess what I said struck a chord and it resulted in that excruciating fight which left me sullen and somber the last two weeks of high school. Like I said before, you can't freeze time; it's the same concept with going backwards in time to fix what you broke, so to speak; however simple that sounded, it was just not meant to be for us, no matter how many people disagreed.

The day of our graduation, I didn't even mutter one word to him, not even a goodbye; I hugged Tucker, kissed him on the cheek, and waved farewell to Jazz, who had shown up for her brother's big day. I didn't bother to look into his eyes once nor did I speak a solitary word to him; I knew that if I did, I would be trapped in those sorrowful blue eyes for the rest of eternity–even though I didn't say anything, I still am, and I hate myself for it. I had to break free (as stupid as that sounds now), and move on. I knew that I was (am, retorts the relentless voice in the back of my head) in love with him, but... as the saying goes, if you let something go and if it comes back to you, it's meant to be (or some bullshit like that). It's been three years, and I've yet to see any response from him. Tough shit for me, huh?

So, yes... I, Samantha Manson, am an idiot. A huge idiot who wishes with every fiber of her being that she wasn't this much of an idiot to find herself back in the Amity Park Airport, freshly off her flight from LaGuardia Airport in New York.

Signing out of her online journal account, she shut down her laptop, closed it, and placed it carefully into her black (faux) leather bag. To vent and let out frustrations, she had an online journal; it helped her place and put her thoughts together, rather than keeping everything bottled up inside for exploding. Zipping the bag closed, she placed it in her lap, carefully readjusting her clothes and waiting for the fasten seat belt sign to turn off; her legs were cramped and all she wanted was to get out of this damned contraption.

After waiting a good twenty minutes for the people of the plane to file out, she took deep breaths and tried to calm herself down; she probably wouldn't even see him at all during her two-week visit. Honestly, she didn't even know if she wanted to see him, either.She knew she held grudges, and Danny wasn't an exception to her; he may have been a while back, but as time lengthened and things settled, frustration bubbled in her as well towards the raven-haired... man. It had been that long, hadn't it? She wondered how he looked now and wondered if she'd look any different, even recognizable, to him. Shaking those thoughts from her head, she filed out of the airplane and into the terminal, ready to head home.

"Here goes nothing," she whispered softly to herself as she took a calming breath and stepped off of the plane and walked out into the terminal.

So, what did you think?