Author's Note: WOW. I can't believe I actually managed to finish this in such a short amount of time. To be honest, the first few parts were a little dragged out because it took me some time to get the hang of Danny's POV, but then the words just flowed out and I found it hard to stop. I absolutely LOVED writing this, you have no idea.

The winner of the poll won by a large number of votes. I kind of knew that the options would narrow down between chapter 8 and chapter 6, but chapter 8 won. Hope that was what you wanted!

Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this one!

Disclaimer: Come on, I'm so happy, do I have to do the disclaimer? *Sigh* Alright, FINE. Idon'townDannyPhantom. There. Now I just made myself sad again.

Chapter Eight
Pool Picnic
Danny's POV

The large boom! Boom! Boom! of the ghost alarm blared, the sound emanating through the entire school.

"What do you mean there's been a breach in the shield?" Sam asked me incredulously, her hands covering her ears.

"Someone is trying to get through it and failing, or it's probably working." I instinctively turned to the small window in the teacher's lounge, and saw the faint green light of the Ghost Shield. "Whatever is happening, the alarm went off, so it has to be bad."

"But who would–" Sam was about to ask something when she suddenly stomped her foot and blurted, "Can this thing shut up already!"

I had to resist the urge to chuckle. The way she looked so spooked and frustrated was so adorable I couldn't help it.

Blinking away those thoughts – I mean, really, now? – I grabbed onto her t-shirt and said a brief, "Come on", dragging her along with me out of the teacher's lounge. I made my way to the principal's office, dragging Sam along behind me, where I remembered hearing my parents discuss how they put a control panel for the Ghost Shield there. I didn't know whether to be thankful or annoyed at how loud they are at night.

... God that sounded so wrong…

We arrived at the principal's office and I found the control panel without difficulty. (I would say it's thanks to my awesome skills, but really, it was the red bulb flashing above it that gave it away). Sam and I raced over to it and I started looking over the system, trying to see whether I could figure out how to work this.

Sam didn't say anything as I fiddled around with it. Surprisingly, it took me a while to get the hang of it even though it was a lot simpler than the systems my parents installed at my house.

For the first time ever I thanked God that my parents were ghost hunters when I finally managed to turn the alarm off. (And not necessarily because the loud annoying alarm was gone either…)

Quiet settled around us and the bulb above the panel stopped going on and off. "Well," I stepped back from the panel, placing my hands on my hips subconsciously. "That settles–"

I was cut off when a loud ringtone rung out, making both me and Sam jump in surprise. I felt a vibration in my pocket and quickly got out my phone.

"Mom?" I asked once I picked up, surprised at the timing of her call.

"Hi sweetie," came her sweet voice on the other end. "The ghost alarm just rang here, detecting its signal from school; is everything okay?"

"Yeah, we just–"

She cut me off, saying, "Did a ghost get in?"

"No, we turned it off–"

"Oh, that's good then. The last thing we need is a ghost trying to get into the school and actually succeeding. No ghost has ever been strong enough to break through our shield, and tonight was no exception."

I could feel her smile in pride on the other side. "Oh," I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, "okay, good. How are things at home?"

"Oh, they're good," mom said. "We're hoping the roads get cleared soon because we're running out of fudge, and you know how your father gets without fudge.

I grinned. "Oh, I know."

Mom asked me how I was and how spending time in school with Sam was like – I could hear the unsaid innuendo, but I chose to ignore it and act oblivious.

Mom sounded like she was about to say something else when I heard a yell of "Maddie, honey, where did you put the fudge? YOU KNOW I GET CRANKY WITHOUT MY FUDGE" on the other side. Mom sighed and briefly said, "Have a good night, honey, I'll call you later."

I didn't have time to reply before I heard one last "ALRIGHT JACK CALM DOWN I'LL GET YOU YOUR FUDGE" and a long bleep at the other end, signaling that my mom had hung up.

God. It's only been a few days and I miss my parents.

Something must be definitely wrong.

When I turned back to Sam, she had a questioning look on her face. "The alarm rang at home too," I started explaining, shoving my phone back in my pocket. "Apparently some ghost was trying to break in the school but the Ghost Shield was too strong so it fled."

"God, this is embarrassing," she said, leaning on the principal's desk in exhaustion. "I feel like we're two kids trapped in a room by that small plastic fence parents set up when they can't find a babysitter."

I blinked in confusion. Okay, she officially lost me. "What?"

Shaking her head, she muttered, "Never mind." Leaning away from the desk, she added, "Didn't you take me to the teacher's lounge for a reason?"

Distracted from her previous sentence, I grinned when I remembered the reason we were in the teacher's lounge in the first place. "Well, you didn't eat for an entire day."

I left it at that, hoping she'd catch on as I started heading out of the office and back towards the teacher's lounge, but she didn't. "And that has to do with the teacher's lounge because…" she trailed off after me.

"Um," I turned to her with a raised eyebrow, "food?"

Seriously, and they say I'm slow to understand.

Not that Sam was stupid. Quite the opposite, actually. But maybe she was too smart for her own good sometimes. And she talked way too much.

I knew what I could do to get her to shut up. I could always get her to do something else with her mouth…

I blinked, snapping myself out of these thoughts. Really, Fenton? You were able to control your testosterone levels when the both of you were a few feet away from each other and naked, but you couldn't do just that now? I mean, true, it was easier then because I was mad at her…

Snap out of it, Fenton, and show her the damn food!

We arrived back at the teacher's lounge and the sight of the fridge and the mounds of food I'd found behind it distracted me from my thoughts. Without being able to help myself, I scurried over to the fridge giddily. I opened it, and grinned at the sight of all the delicious food in there. Pasta, chili, breadsticks, pizza, Diet Coke, orange juice. "Bingo."

When Sam came over to peer over my arm, she had the exact reaction I was hoping for. "Pasta? Chili?" She gasped enthusiastically. "A salad?"

I rolled my eyes, reaching out for a breadstick and taking a bite. "So typical that you'd get excited over a salad," I couldn't help but say. Gesturing towards a plate of pasta in the fridge, I used a high-pitched excited voice and said, "Hello, pasta!"

I was brutally shoved to the side – how can someone so small be that strong? – as Sam leaned in and brought out a salad and shoved it in my face. Using the same voice, she said, "Hello, salad!"

I couldn't help but chuckle. Even though to everyone else she appeared to be this indifferent Goth girl, there were times where I couldn't help but notice how absolutely adorable she was. She made my heart flutter, and I had to avoid meeting her eyes when I leaned in to bring out the plate of pasta, for fear I would blurt out what I was thinking. In case you hadn't noticed, my brain-to-mouth filter wasn't really perfect.

"Pasta doesn't really taste that good cold–"

I simply put the plate in the microwave and set the timer. Turning to her with a smirk, my expression implied nothing-can-stop-me-from-getting-my-paste. Because, you know, it's food, and I like food. I like food very much.

Sam propped herself on the island in the kitchen and started unwrapping her plate of salad. "How did we never discover this place before?" she asked, an exasperated tone in her voice.

"This room is practically right next to the principal's office," I started my theory, "a place where students don't really prefer visiting."

She looked wistful. "Good point."

As she got back down and started fiddling around with the drawers, I turned to the cabinet and started looking for what I came here in the first place: picnic equipment.

When I couldn't find it in the first drawer, I turned to Sam to stop her from eating. "Time for our picnic!" I announced, unable to stop the grin from spreading all over my face. I'd wanted to plan this since I first found the lounge yesterday, but I didn't want to do it without Sam, no matter how mad I'd been at her. I didn't want to do it enough to go and get her, sure, but now that I got a chance, I felt excited all over.

Ever so cutely, her fork stopped midway up to her mouth as she inquired, "Picnic?"

"Yep," I briefly said as I started searching around the kitchen. Yesterday while I was poking around, I remembered coming across a blanket and some cups. I tore through some cabinets and drawers until I finally found a red-and-white plaid blanket, and two cups, which I brought along because of the orange juice I thought we could have.

Flinging the blanket over my shoulder, I announced, "Let's go."

While she got off the counter and over to the microwave to bring out my plate, I noticed the way she was smiling at me. It reminded me of the way I smiled at her and my heart leapt a little.

As we headed out, she looked over at the load in my hands. Balancing my plate of pasta over the plastic wrap of her salad, she stepped over to take the cups from my hands with a "Here, let me carry those."

I brought my hands back and gave her a look. "Um, no way; I'm the guy, I carry the equipment and you carry the goods."

Wow, that sounded a lot less wrong in my head…

Thankfully, she didn't notice and just continued walking. I mentally breathed out in relief. Again with the mouth filter thing. Jesus, I carry the equipment? What the hell was wrong with me?

Not to sound overdramatic or anything, but I was glad she didn't notice the accidentally implied and unintended innuendo, or else I would've died.

We finally made it to the pool. The first thing I noticed was the pool lights that illuminated the entire gym, giving the room the kind of lighting you would see in an aquarium. Everything around you was dark and the only lighting was an ethereal blue.

Sam beat me to the comment before I could. "It makes so much sense for the pool's light to run on the backup generator instead of the heater."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I set the cups and orange juice down and started setting up the blanket. "Like I said," I straightened the blanket so that there were no strains on it, "this school is just weird."

After the blanket was set, the cups and juice were placed, Sam and I sat down. I poured some of the juice for the both of us, and we started digging in.

The minute the food made its way into Sam's mouth, she let out a pleasurable moan and closed her eyes, tilting her head up.

Even though I knew why she was moaning, I couldn't help but get a bad mental image.

Don't give me that look; I'm a boy, I can't help it!

I just shook my head, resisting the urge to smile. Unable to resist myself, I said, "If I had a dollar for every time I saw someone moaning when eating a salad."

Sam swallowed, and then asked, "How much money would you have?"

"A dollar."

I grinned when she shoved me playfully with her shoulder, shaking her head at me.

Sam, for the first time probably since I'd met her, was stuffing her face, not even giving herself enough time to breathe. She shoved the forkful of lettuce so fast it made me a little jealous of the lettuce.

God, I wished I could stop thinking about her. If Sam could read my mind, I would've been on a one-way-trip to the Ghost Zone, completely dead this time. I wish I just had something to distract myself with.

"Seriously though," momentarily distracted, she turned to me and shoved a forkful into my face. "You have to try this."

Oh, there it was, my distraction. Too bad it was about salads. That was disappointing. Couldn't she have wanted to talk about a more interesting food, like bacon and its origin or something?

So that was why, for the next ten minutes, our conversation consisted of salads.

I don't even know what I'd said. I was just trying to distract myself from how surprisingly pretty she looked with a slight blue hue to her complexion.

I don't know what led to it, but I ended up asking, "You know. There's a family of dogs and a family of cats. There's a family of meat and chicken and fruits and vegetables – does that mean there's a family of salads too?"
Sam looked like she either wanted to face-palm herself or just blink for the rest of her life until this conversation blows over.

How the hell did the conversation even stir itself this way? Damn. I got it bad.

"You know what, Danny?" apparently, she decided on the third option, which was the least favorite option that it shouldn't even be mentioned: facing the problem and giving it a cookie. "Never mind."

Oh, damn it. What else was I going to distract myself with? I needed something – I needed her to start talking about superficial pop stars or models who look like fish because of how much plastic surgery they're getting – true, I would still keep staring at her as she said those things, but at least the fact that she was talking would stop me from blurting something out.

Or I could focus on my pasta. Pasta was good too.

Sam didn't say anything, and neither did I. I don't do well with silences, because during a silence, I take a step back and think. And the place my mind was headed wasn't really promising, considering the events of yesterday.

But I said it anyway. "Hey, Sam?"

She was looking in front of us as she said, "Yeah?"

Don't say it, man. Don't rattle the cage. Don't ruffle the water. Don't do something else with the same idiom meaning. Just shut up.

Oh, crap, here it goes.

"Why are you friends with me?"

I heard her suck in a small breath in shock, and the look on her face looked like she was actually trying to physically resist herself from flinching. She stayed quiet for a few moments afterwards – but whether it was to process the question or ponder her answer, I didn't know.

Then the strangest thing happened. The look on her face changed from one of hesitation and bewilderment into determination as she said, "Well, first of all, you shouldn't even let that question be on your mind." She turned to give me a look, but I was too anxious to react.

"And second… I'm your friend just because I am, Danny." She'd turned back to stare at the pool, but I could see her expression, and it matched mine: anxious and tentative. "I'm your friend because you're an amazing person who I thank God everyday for knowing. I'm your friend because you got my back, and you protect me in ways I can't even protect myself. I could keep on going all day about why you're my best friend in the world – but… You just are, Danny." She gave a slight shrug. "And I can't ever imagine myself losing you."

I couldn't help the small intake of breath I took. I had to tear my eyes way from her face and stare at the water to process everything she just said.

Sam thinks I'm amazing. Sam actually notices how protective I am of her, how all I ever want to do was to protect her. She doesn't think I'm a loser – she thinks I'm the exact opposite, actually.

Did she know what I thought of her? I always thought that my comments were so blaringly obvious that she must've taken the hint already – that she knew that I had really, really, really strong feelings for her.

But the fact that I had no idea that she felt that way about me, even if it was put in a friendly matter, made me realize that she probably had no idea what she does to me.

Oh, no. It was coming again. This time, my mouth filter wasn't just under construction; it was full-out malfunctioning.

When Tucker made me and Sam watch Mean Girls once, I always thought Lindsay Lohan's character was too much of a babble-head. The whole 'word vomit' thing didn't really seem that realistic to me back then.

Well, that was until now.


So I did the only thing a guy under panic would: I got up, took off my shirt, and jumped into the pool.

The first thing I noticed was the wash of coldness that swept all over me. There was no sound around me at all, and when I opened my eyes, I had to squint through the light.

Resurfacing, I shook the hair out of my face and took a deep breath. The deep breath wasn't only to supply my body with the oxygen I need to reach my brain because I seriously thought I was losing it, but it was also to steady my beating heart and calm myself down.

It was time. She opened up. Now it was my turn.

I just need to be able to do it my way, not the word vomit way.

I looked over to Sam, who was raising an eyebrow at me and had the most incredulous expression on her face. Taking another discreet deep breath, I plastered on what must've looked like an enthusiastic – but was actually a little crazy – smile and said, "You coming or what?"

Sam had to take a few seconds to process. I didn't blame her – I knew I was acting a little mental.

Finally snapping out of it, she got up. Before heading towards the edge of the pool and jumping in, she bent down and started taking off her shorts.


I tried to avert my eyes so that she wouldn't see the blush on my face. Even though her t-shirt was long enough to cover her thighs, my mind couldn't help but wander.
She finally jumped in, the splash of water hitting my face enough to clear my mind. She broke the surface, a slight tremble in her lips from the cold. I could almost detect the sarcastic remark before she even said it. "And you thought jumping in the pool during weather like this when the heaters aren't working is a good idea?"

The creepy smile was back. "Yep."

Sam rolled her eyes, swimming away from me to the edge. I got her drift and swam along with her, since the water was way too cold to do anything but just be there in it.

By the edge of the pool, there was sort of a small ledge where I rested my feet on. Sam, too short to rest her elbows on the edges like I was, instead sufficed with leaning her back against the wall.

Okay, Fenton. Now's your shot. Just put it out there slowly. Don't let word vomit get in the way.

A moment of silence passed.

Say it. Say it, you little coward.

Jesus, what was wrong with me? First I wanted to say it so badly I had to shut myself up by jumping into a freaking pool when it was a hundred freaking degrees below zero, and now I couldn't even blurt something out?


"Do you have any idea how amazing you are?"

There. I finally said it.

Oh crap. I said it. Why did I just say it?!

Okay, word vomit. Do your thing.

"Sometimes I'd wonder what I ever did to deserve someone like you." I started, taking a trembling deep breath. But now that I started, I found it difficult to stop. "Like, seriously, if I had to be stuck in this school with anyone, then I am so glad it was you. You say all these good things about me when you don't even see the good things about yourself." Staring at my reflection in the troubled waters wasn't doing anything to calm my nerves, so I turned to look at her instead. "You don't see the way you light up when you talk about animal rights; you don't see how your smile makes my heart stop; you don't know how beautiful you are or how you make my world stop." I ignored the repeat in my pattern of sentence and swam over to her so that I was directly in front of her and facing her. "If you think you wouldn't know what to do if you lost me, then you don't even know what I would do if I lost you."

Her eyes were wide, and I would pay anything to get to know what she was thinking. Her gaze poring into mine was so intense that I couldn't bring myself to look away. My heart was pounding, I was starting to get dizzy, and I felt the word vomit coming back up. My speech wasn't finished yet – I had to say it. I had to tell her that I was hopelessly and madly and irrevocably in love with her.

"Sam," I started, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat. I couldn't say it. I don't know why, but something wouldn't let the phrase go through my mouth, wouldn't let the words formulate and wouldn't let those three little words bounce off my tongue. Taking another deep breath, I tried again. "I… I–"

Sam saved me from another word flop when she kissed me.

I didn't even know what was happening. On minute, I'm trying to force the words out, and then wanting to die from humiliation because they just wouldn't come out, and the next the words were being squashed down my throat by Sam's tongue.

Now, if there was one thing I could do without thinking, it was kiss the girl I loved.

She wasn't close enough. There was too much space between us, so I grabbed onto her waist and pulled her as close as she would go so that no particles of water would even dream of squeezing between us. I wanted her close enough so that I could feel her heartbeat. I wanted her close enough so that she wouldn't be able to get away from me. Never again.

Whenever I imagined kissing Sam, I'd get an instant image of a soft, small kiss on the lips and that would be it. But no. Our kiss was urgent and passionate and intense – the minute we broke apart to get some air our mouths found each other again, hungry and wild.

Her hands moved all over me until they reached my neck. I could feel her wrapping her arms around my neck and playing with my hair. I felt like I was drowning, drowning in her touch, drowning in her kiss.

Oh, wait. I really was drowning.

I wasn't supporting my feet on the ledge, so I let my hands move downward until I grabbed her and lifted her legs so that they would wrap around me. Shifting my position, I swam so that my back was pressed against the wall and my feet were resting on the ledge, Sam on top of me and kissing me like her life depended on it.

How could I have stayed all this while, trying to hide and quench my feelings for Sam, when, not only she felt the same way, but when it would lead to kissing her? I don't think there's anything better than kissing Sam – not like this. The feel of her lips on mine and her hands in my hair and her tongue in my mouth – it wasn't like anything I'd ever felt before. Hormones aside, the kiss sparked something – in the both of us, I knew, that we'd always wanted and yearned for.

And if it was up to me, I'd never let her go.


I LOVED writing this. I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it.

Okay, so I guess this is officially the last time Trapped In School will ever be brought up for something new about it being written. I hope this one chapter satisfied you enough to look over the fact that there will be no sequel, because I think it satisfied ME.

BUT... This isn't the last you've heard of me!

Review! x