Chapter 73 - 21
Chapter 21: "Gravestones, Gravel, and One Very Lucky Bat"
In which Danny discovers that street fights aren't like the movies—and that baseball bats are surprisingly versatile.
Here's something I never thought I'd say: I walked into school and people didn't look at me like I was a walking wedgie magnet.
No, seriously. The usual sideways glances, snickers, and "Hey Fenton, your pants on backwards again?" jokes were noticeably absent. It was like the whole school had been body-snatched and replaced with semi-decent humans. Even the vending machine didn't eat my dollar this time. Coincidence? I think not.
Sam, Tucker, and I were strutting down the hallway like we owned the place. Not in a "we're too cool for this school" way—more like, "we survived ghost training and leg day, and we dare you to mess with us" kind of vibe. Tucker even had his hoodie unzipped halfway like he was some kind of anime protagonist mid-power arc. Sam looked like she could crush someone's soul with a stare. I was just trying to keep up.
The change wasn't subtle. People noticed. And not in a "Look, the nerds are role-playing again" way. No, this was different. They respected us. Even the teachers had stopped giving me that "we'll just pass you so you go away" look. Mrs. Thorne actually gave me a thumbs up in algebra. I'm still trying to decide if I should be honored or afraid.
Now, don't get me wrong. I wasn't suddenly the King of Casper High. I didn't have a locker shrine or a fan club (though Tucker claims he heard whispers). But for once, I didn't feel like a loser trying to cosplay confidence. I felt it. In my spine. In my bones. In my probably-bruised ribs from training, but hey, progress hurts.
And speaking of growth—Dash was suspended. Something about "excessive testosterone and a locker door." I won't say I smiled when I heard. But I definitely didn't cry.
The best part? Pauline walked past me and did not get my attention. I let her walk by. She even flipped her hair. Old Danny would've written sonnets in her honor. New Danny just nodded and kept moving.
Why? Because I finally realized something: chasing people who don't see your worth is like yelling into a void—just louder and sadder. If she didn't care about who I really was, then I wasn't going to waste my time. Unless she sent me a handwritten apology with cookies. Then maybe we'd talk.
But honestly, my mind was elsewhere.