Chapter Text
Danny was tired.
Sure, that was his default state, but today felt worse. Another sleepless night, another rogue ghost, another morning dragging himself through school like the walking dead.
It was only the second week of junior year— barely September —and Danny was already convinced he wouldn’t survive until summer.
Honestly, he was amazed he’d made it this far.
"You know, the mullet really isn’t helping your case, dude." Tucker snickered, ruffling Danny’s hair like a proud older brother.
"You’re the one who told me to 'embrace Fun Danny,' Tucker," Danny said, swatting his hand away.
Tucker chuckled. “The hairstyle is not what I meant, and you know it.”
"It’s a start. Take what you can get," Danny shot back.
"I mean, we could get a bit more personality out of you," Sam chimed in.
"Now you’re asking for too much. My personality is already peak perfection," Danny snorted, flipping his mullet like a Disney princess.
The trio burst into laughter. Maybe he could survive this school year after all.
Danny dragged himself into his first class, flopping into a desk squarely in the middle.
Not too close to the front—where teachers actually expected things from you. Not in the back—where it looked like you were hiding something.
The middle was the sweet spot. The place where people forgot you existed.
Sam and Tucker were scattered across different schedules this year, which sucked. But at least they had the same lunch period—which was all that really mattered.
Because if there was one universal truth in high school, it was this: eating alone was social suicide.
As he pulled his notebook and pencil from his bag, a snippet of conversation made his ears perk up.
Paulina and Star were top-tier gossips. Every piece of school news passed through them first.
Danny wasn’t interested in Paulina like that anymore, but as a student just trying to survive— and as a hero always looking for an edge?
Gossip was power. So he listened.
"Did you hear about the new exchange student?" Star asked, filing her nails like it was the least interesting news in the world.
"I did!" Paulina squealed. "I heard he’s from Mexico."
"Oh, yeah. Apparently, his parents are rich and famous and pulled some serious strings to get him in," Star said, chewing over the words like even she didn’t believe them.
Danny barely held back an eye-roll. That made zero sense.
What kind of parents sent their rich, Mexican nepo baby to Amity Park, Minnesota?
"Oh, yeah! That’s right," Paulina hummed. "Too bad he’s a sophomore. Otherwise, he’d be total A-list material."
Danny shook his head and let the conversation fade into background noise.
Because yeah. That was exactly what Casper High needed.
Another rich, snobby A-lister.
Danny hadn’t spared a second thought of the new exchange student—not until he saw him in the hallway.
He looked out of place.
Short but stocky, dark skin kissed by the sun, freckles dusting his face. A noticeable scar over his left eye. A leather jacket.
And a wide, cocky grin as he laughed with a group of underclassmen.
Yeah. Danny knew that look.
That was just another Dash Baxter.
Danny rolled his eyes.
He’d bet money Paulina would be all over him by the end of the week.
Danny flopped down at the trio’s usual lunch table outside. It was still warm enough to be tolerable, and he planned to soak up every last bit of sun before the inevitable northern cold set in.
Sam and Tucker hadn’t made it out yet, but Danny settled in anyway. They’d show up eventually.
He’d barely taken his first bite when someone sat down across from him.
Danny looked up, expecting Tucker or Sam—and promptly choked on his food.
Because that was not one of his friends.
It was the new exchange student.
Danny forced the traitorous bite down and scowled. "Can I help you?"
The guy grinned—wide and almost sharp. "¡Sí! First day, new school, I didn’t see you sitting with anyone—so I figured I’d join you!"
Danny glanced around.
Plenty of open seats. Underclassmen. Popular kids.
Literally anywhere else.
He turned back to the intruder and frowned. "I’m not alone. My friends are just getting their food."
"Ay, okay! You can introduce me when they get here." He said it like it was already decided. Then he stuck out a hand, grinning like they were already friends. "I’m Manny! Manny Rivera!"
Danny’s lip curled as he eyed the outstretched hand with pure disgust. "Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”
If it discouraged this Manny, it didn’t show.
His hand stayed in place. "Maybe. But you seem like the most interesting person here."
"Wow,” Danny let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. “Okay. No need to commit this hard to the bit. Who put you up to this? Dash? Kwan?"
Manny blinked. "Uh?" He ran a hand through his hair—like he was trying to act casual. "I don’t even know who those people are." His voice slowed, confusion creeping in, "I just wanted to say hi."
Danny opened his mouth, already lining up another cutting remark—but that’s when Sam and Tucker arrived.
Both of them had trays of food in their hands.
Both of them looked pissed.
"What do you want?" Sam snapped, immediately clocking Manny as trouble.
"Yeah," Tucker chimed in, his tone sharp as he backed her up.
Manny blinked, glancing between the newcomers. "A place to eat lunch," he said, like that should have been obvious.
Danny leaned forward, resting an arm on the table, his eyes narrowing. "Go do that somewhere else."
Manny stared at him.
For the first time, he actually hesitated. His face darkened, and Danny thought—was that a blush?
"¿Qué carajo?" he muttered under his breath, standing up abruptly. "Sure. I can do that."
His eyes flickered—Danny swore they flashed green for a second.
Then, with zero warning, Manny’s arm snapped out, lightning-fast—and Danny’s tray went flying off the table.
Danny blinked.
Sam gasped. "What do you think you’re doing?!" she barked.
But Manny was already walking away. "Going somewhere else," he said coolly, throwing one last glare over his shoulder.
Then, with narrowed eyes, he added, "Enjoy your lunch, gringo."
And just like that, he was gone.
Danny turned to Sam and Tucker. They all had matching expressions of shock.
Slowly, all three of them looked at the upturned lunch tray.
"Well. That’s another missed meal." Danny finally broke the silence, voice flat.
Sam and Tucker sat down, immediately offering up pieces of their lunches.
Danny smiled. He had good friends.
"I’ll just show Mr. Lancer the crime scene," he muttered. "He might take pity on me."
"Probably," Sam snorted. "Though, what the fuck was that?"
Danny threw his hands up. "You know as much as I do! I was just starting to eat when the nepo baby exchange kid sat down next to me."
"What a jerk!" Tucker parroted. "You must radiate ‘Bully Me’ energy, dude."
Danny snorted. "Isn’t that the truth."
He stood up, sighing. "Let me try to grab another tray before he comes back and throws that one too."
Then, with the distinct aura of a pissed-off teen boy, he stomped off toward Mr. Lancer, already piecing together the best excuse for a new meal.
Danny had managed to score another lunch, thanks to Mr. Lancer.
The man was more than familiar with Danny’s stupid, never-ending streak of bad luck. Thankfully, no fight was required.
Sure, Danny could have survived without eating. Didn’t mean he wanted to.
He was more annoyed than usual as the day dragged on—tired, stomach still unsettled from eating too fast.
But at least he was surviving.
Maybe, if he was really lucky, he’d make it to the end of the day without a ghost attack.
"So, your name is Danny, right?"
Danny yanked his locker open too hard, startled by a voice behind him.
His eyes snapped to Manny Rivera—leaning against the lockers like he was starring in a cologne commercial.
Pure, effortless confidence.
Danny frowned, irritation from earlier doubling down. "Yeah. Don’t get used to it."
Manny nodded, eyes glinting with something wild. "Ah, that’s okay! I can come up with plenty of nicknames for you instead!"
"I think I’d rather die," Danny said flatly.
Yeah, years of ‘Fentina’ and ‘Fenturd’ had not warmed him to the idea of getting nicknames from the kid who literally threw his lunch on the ground.
Manny chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning in like he was actually interested in Danny’s response.
"Are you sure, guapo?" He dragged the word out, like he was testing it.
Danny had no idea what that meant. He frowned anyway. "Take your nicknames—" he gestured vaguely at all of Manny, "and leave me alone."
Then he slammed his locker, maybe too hard, and stalked off to class.
~
Manny blinked slowly, watching Danny retreat.
He glanced around, half-expecting someone to pop out with a cue card or a sign from the universe.
Nothing.
He sighed, running a hand through his curls.
"Okay. Strike two."
Manny shook his head, trying to piece together what went wrong.
He was just trying to befriend this broody, untamed, wild-energy-having guy.
It didn’t make sense.
He’d never had trouble making friends before.
Why was this time different?
He went through the checklist:
Was it his English?
No, his English was fine.
Was he rude?
Probably not. Then again, he wasn’t in Mexico anymore.
Did he have something on his face?
He checked a mirror. Nope. Still hot.
So what was it?
Maybe Danny was just having a bad day.
Yeah. That was probably it.
Manny sighed, rolling his shoulders back.
"Alright, Rivera. Next time, be more gentle. Soft. Like a cloud." He was not soft. Or gentle. Or cloud-like.
But he had to try.
He was in a new place. A new school. Away from everything familiar.
And if he didn’t make a worth while friend soon… This was going to be a long, lonely year.
Manny walked away from the locker, plastering his usual grin back on.
Danny Fenton was officially his next challenge.
Manny had annoyed his way into plenty of friendships before—this wouldn’t be any different.
People could only resist the Rivera Charm™ for so long.
As he headed toward his next class, someone fell into step beside him.
"Danny isn't exactly the friendly type."
Manny glanced to the side to see Paulina Sanchez, easily the most popular girl at Casper High.
She was one of the only other Hispanic kids in the school—though she was American-born, and she carried herself like a queen.
She was watching him with sharp, assessing eyes, clearly interested.
"Him and his friends are losers of Casper High," she declared, like she was doing him a favor by warning him.
Manny raised a brow. "Eh, he just seems interesting," he said, still turning over the conversation in his head.
Paulina laughed, raising a manicured hand to her mouth like some cartoon villainess. "He's about as strange as they come!"
Manny nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. You sound like you really don’t like the guy."
Paulina flipped her hair. "He used to follow me around like a puppy. Kind of pathetic, honestly. He’s been quieter lately, but he’s still a loser. And that mullet?" She wrinkled her nose. "Definitely not an improvement."
Manny hummed, only half-listening.
If Paulina was this against him, Danny must be way more interesting than he thought.
Yeah. He was definitely doubling down on this friendship.
~
Danny yawned as he walked toward his locker, mentally bracing himself for another school day.
Yesterday had been a bust.
At least he’d gotten a little more sleep last night, so he was slightly more prepared for another long, miserable day at Casper High.
Coffee always helped.
He took a slow sip from his thermos, books balanced under one arm as he trudged toward first period.
Then he heard it.
"¡Hola Danny!"
Danny paused mid-step, exhaled sharply, and looked up at the ceiling. "Ancients help me."
He turned, already glaring, and found Manny Rivera, grinning like an over-caffeinated maniac.
"What do you want?" Danny asked. He did not trust any teenager with that much energy this early in the morning.
Manny blinked, then immediately rearranged his face into something softer.
It was probably supposed to look warm.
"Oh, I just wanted to see if I could walk with you to class!" His voice was noticeably calmer.
Danny narrowed his eyes. "You’re not even in any of my classes."
Manny leaned in slightly, still smiling. "Well, it’s polite to walk with people!"
Danny opened his mouth to protest—And then, suddenly, his books and coffee were airborne.
Danny watched in stunned horror as his coffee thermos hit the ground, lid popping off—hot liquid splattering across the floor.
His science textbook took the brunt of it.
Pages soaking, curling at the edges.
Ruined.
Manny blinked down at the disaster. "¡Mierda! ¡No quise hacer eso!"
Danny’s eye twitched. He turned to Manny, voice snapping like a whip, "What the actual fuck is your problem?!"
The hallway went dead silent.
Several students froze mid-conversation.
Danny Fenton did not yell.
Danny Fenton was a sigh-and-pick-it-up kind of guy.
Manny, however?
Manny looked delighted. "Oh! So you do talk to me!"
Danny saw red. He shoved Manny back. "Leave me the fuck alone."
Then he dropped to his knees, aggressively scooping up his ruined textbook and empty thermos.
This was going to cost him.
He’d have to pay for a new textbook.
He’d have to track down the janitor.
He’d have to beg the librarian for a replacement.
And now he was late to class.
And he had no coffee.
Danny did not even spare Manny a second glance as he marched off toward the library, seething.
"Did you see Danny shove the new kid?"
"Yeah, what the hell?"
"That's not like him!"
"What a dick!"
Danny heard the whispers following him down the hall.
He was not having this.
What was that fucking exchange student’s problem?
His brain immediately pulled up the gossip he had overheard.
Manny’s parents had to pull strings to get him into Casper High.
That meant he must’ve gotten kicked out of his last school.
Great.
Just what Danny needed—a troublemaking nepo baby who was clearly targeting him.
Maybe the shove and the yelling would scare him off.
It worked on Dash.
The one time Danny shoved Dash back, the bullying got way less physical.
Sure, the meathead jock still bothered him, but now it was mostly verbal.
Plus, Danny was taller than Dash now, which probably helped.
Then again… Manny was tiny.
Easily eight inches shorter than Danny.
And yet, he didn’t seem bothered by that at all.
Because Manny was built.
Like, actually built.
Danny had a sinking suspicion this guy lifted weights for fun.
He sighed.
What a fucking waste of his morning.
And his coffee.
Danny had missed the entire first half of class thanks to the clusterfuck in the hallway.
His teacher was not pleased.
Thankfully, the librarian had actually given him a note for once.
The teacher looked genuinely surprised that Danny wasn’t just late for no reason, like usual.
But that barely mattered.
Danny was coffeeless.
Fifty bucks poorer.
And a headache was already forming behind his eyes.
Then, something smacked the back of his head.
Danny’s eye twitched.
Slowly, he turned—just in time to see Paulina blinking at him, all wide-eyed innocence.
Great. The A-listers really did stick together. This day just keeps getting better.
~
Danny’s headache from this unreasonably stupid morning had finally started to fade.
He’d caught up to Sam and Tucker in the cafeteria and was ranting about his insane morning.
"That Manny kid knocked my coffee out of my hand and ruined my textbook that I had to pay to replace!" he huffed, grabbing an empty tray.
"Yeah, what the hell?" Tucker frowned. "That really escalated quickly."
"You’re telling me," Danny groaned, shifting forward in line. "And to top it off? I didn’t even get more than a couple sips of my coffee."
"Lame. Well, I heard you yelled at him." Sam elbowed him playfully.
"I did!" Danny declared. "I don’t want him thinking I’m an easy target. The last thing I need is some underclassman making me his problem."
Trays full, the trio headed outside—Then they stopped dead.
Manny Rivera was sprawled out on the picnic bench, tray in front of him.
A comically large bottle of hot sauce sat open next to his plate—His mashed potatoes were practically drowning in it, a violent red mess that looked like a crime scene.
His backpack took up the rest of the seat.
He had been waiting for them.
Danny’s eye twitched.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sam bit out, clearly as over this as Danny was.
Manny didn’t even flinch. "Am I breaking some sacred American seating law, amiga?" he asked, stirring his crime scene potatoes.
"YES!" Sam snapped. "We sit here. You sit over there—with Paulina and Dash and the rest of the A-listers."
Manny blinked. "But I want to sit here!" His grin was all teeth.
Danny clenched his jaw. "You’re in my seat."
Manny glanced around dramatically. "Huh. Your name’s not here, Billy Ray."
Danny’s temper flared. "You did not just call me that."
"You’re the one with the mullet," Manny grinned, twirling his own hair mockingly.
Danny took a step forward. Loomed. "Just—Just go sit somewhere else."
Manny just tilted his head, smirking.
Then, deliberately, he threw his legs over the bench—gesturing to the empty space next to him. "You could just sit with me. Since you guys have claimed the table."
Danny’s fists curled. "No. You need to leave!"
Manny shrugged. "Aww, but messing with you is fun, jenga."
Sam also stepped forward, eyes darkening. "I will punch you into next week if you don’t move."
Manny blinked. He looked between the two of them, then sighed dramatically.
He stood—suddenly very, very close to Danny. His smirk widened. "You’re cute when you’re angry."
Then, with a flash of movement, Manny grabbed his stuff and strode off—toward the A-listers, who had been watching everything.
Danny was still frozen. Still flustered. Still pissed. "What the actual fuck was that?"
Sam slumped into her seat. "I have no idea. But he’s gone now. Let’s just eat before he comes back."
Danny had a sinking feeling this wasn’t over.
~
Danny was actually proud of himself as he grabbed his bag from his locker.
For once, he’d finished all his homework.
No ghost attacks. No distractions. No falling asleep mid-assignment.
A fully completed homework packet. Hopefully full marks.
Then, as he dug through his bag—His homework folder was gone. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Danny barked, distressed.
Did he really do all that work just to leave it at home?!
He could’ve sworn he grabbed it.
"Looking for this, güero?"
Danny looked up—And felt his soul leave his body.
Manny Rivera was standing a few feet away, grinning like a devil, holding his homework folder.
Danny took a slow, deep breath through his nose. "I swear to whatever god you believe in, I will kill you if you don’t give that back."
Manny just chuckled. "That sounds like a challenge, amigo." He waved the folder for emphasis.
Danny saw red. "What are you, five?!"
"It’s my childlike wonder!" Manny snickered.
Danny lunged.
Manny was fast—dodging like it was nothing. Two steps to the side, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Danny actually buffered. His brain stalled. His eyes may have flashed green. "Give me my fucking homework back!"
"Nope!" And then Manny bolted.
Danny blinked. There is no way this little fucking brat is going to make me chase him.
Danny took a step forward—Manny took a sharp turn—And immediately slammed face-first into the wall.
Manny hit the wall at full force.
He staggered back, blinking. Like he couldn’t believe the wall had the audacity to exist.
"¿Qué carajo?" he muttered, touching his face.
Danny just stared. "…What?”
Manny’s nose was bleeding. He looked dazed.
Danny took advantage of the moment and snatched his homework folder back.
Manny blinked at his empty hands.
Danny squinted, "Hey, there’s a wall there."
Manny shook himself out, still visibly dizzy. "I absolutely knew that!" he declared, planting his hands on his hips completely ignoring the blood dripping from his nose.
Danny just stared. He'd never met anyone this stupid in his entire life. "That was as well-planned as invading Russia in the winter."
Manny squinted. "Did you just compare me to Hitler?"
"Yes." Danny flipped through his folder, making sure nothing was missing. "Now leave me the fuck alone or I’ll be the reason your nose is bleeding next time."
Then he turned on his heel and walked away.
More than ready to turn in his assignment and get his first A of the year.
~
Manny stood there, watching Danny walk away—His mouth tasted like copper.
Danny had a swagger as he left. His homework folder clutched way too tight in his hands.
Manny, on the other hand, was stunned.
"That was kinda hot." He wiped his nose, grinning. "Maybe if I keep fucking with him, he’ll actually fight me."
He was absolutely getting under Danny’s skin.
Danny was thinking about him. A lot.
Manny could tell.
Now, if only he hadn’t misjudged that turn.
He wiped his face again.
The back of his hand came away red.
Well. That sucked.
He sighed and started toward the bathroom to clean up. It would be healed in a couple of minutes anyway.
Manny made it to class a few minutes late.
But his casual smirk and the bloody paper towel shoved up his nose made it pretty obvious why.
The teacher just sighed, shook her head, and kept teaching.
Manny frowned, struggling to keep up.
He scribbled notes in Spanish, trying to translate in real time.
His English was solid, but learning math, his mortal enemy, in his second language?
That also sucked.
By the time the bell rang, he was more than ready to leave.
He barely took the time to shove his notebook into his bag before bolting.
Anything to put physical distance between himself and math.
He ended up near the A-listers.
Dash, Kwan, Paulina, Star—The kids he’d been automatically sorted with.
Like some kind of clique sorting hat.
Manny was rich. He was attractive. He was an athlete.
There wasn’t anywhere else he was supposed to go. It was like a stupid American high school movie.
Except way less fun. And with no singing.
Paulina and Star looked and acted like they were straight out of Mean Girls.
Paulina, specifically, had the energy of someone who thought she could predict the weather with her boobs.
The guys weren’t much better.
"Did you see the Vikings and Steelers game last night?" Kwan punched Dash’s arm, excited.
"Hell yeah, I did!" Dash grinned.
"Did you see that 65-yard field goal attempt the Vikings made?"
"Yeah! That was insane, dude!"
Then Kwan turned to Manny. "Did you see the game?"
Manny frowned. "No? I don’t watch American football. What the hell is a field goal in football? Aren’t all goals on the field?"
Dash and Kwan exchanged a look.
Then they laughed.
Dash clapped him on the back. "We need to fix that! You gotta like football now that you live here!"
Manny forced out a laugh. "I mean? I do watch football. It’s called soccer, Dash."
"Soccer is such a gay sport," Dash snickered.
"You should at least give hockey a chance."
Manny snorted. "Dash, I’m from a desert with an active volcano. We’ve literally never heard of ice."
That got a laugh.
"It’s basically soccer but way manlier and cooler," Kwan added.
"You should play something besides soccer while you’re at Casper. You’d make one hell of a football player!”
Manny laughed along with them.
Masking.
Telling them what they wanted to hear.
He had never felt so fake in his life.
He missed Frida.
He missed Miracle City.
This place was boring.
And, honestly?
He was not having a good time.
Manny floated through the rest of his morning, just trying to keep afloat.
At least he had art class after lunch.
That was the one thing that was better here than in Miracle City.
The art program was insane. Well-funded. Amazing teachers.
And his art teacher? She got it.
When Manny had sheepishly admitted he wanted to be an artist. That he wanted to own a gallery, to teach public art classes.
She hadn’t laughed. She had grinned. She had told him she was already living that dream.
And then? She took him under her wing. No matter what, he always had art.
Then, as he walked into the cafeteria—His eyes locked onto Danny, Sam, and Tucker.
The people he actually wanted to hang out with.
Sam? She reminded him of Frida. Dark. Loud. Rockstar energy. Fiery enough to keep people in check.
Tucker? Funny. Smart. Reminded Manny of Django—now that they actually got along.
And Danny?
Danny was fascinating. There was something otherworldly about him. Everyone seemed to keep their distance.
And Manny wanted to know why.
And so far? The only way to get Danny’s attention was to antagonize him. Which is exactly what he was about to do.
"¡Aye!" Manny plopped down in the open seat next to Danny like he belonged there. "Please tell me we can talk about something other than American football."
Three sets of narrowed eyes turned toward him.
Danny leaned forward, his expression dark—His eyes flashed green. "I don’t want to talk to you about anything."
Manny grinned, sharp teeth flashing. "Yet here you are. Talking."
Danny sucked in a breath, searching for words.
Bingo. A reaction.
"Didn’t I threaten to break your nose the next time you bothered me?" Danny gritted out.
Manny’s eyes sparkled with challenge. "Please do. I doubt you could."
Danny didn’t even hesitate.
He shoved Manny off the bench.
Manny hit the ground, hard.
He blinked up at Danny, dazed—Then grinned. "Impressive. For a skinny gringo."
There was a collective gasp.
Manny stood, dusting himself off.
He opened his mouth to fire back—And Danny clocked him.
Right in the face.
Manny’s vision flashed white.
He staggered—for half a second. Then he snapped back, grinning.
That?
That was nothing. He’d taken way worse from Miracle City villains on a Tuesday morning.
Manny licked the blood off his lip. His eyes lit up. "¡Diablos sí! That’s what I’m talking about!”
And then?
They were full-on brawling in the school courtyard.
Manny hadn’t expected Danny to know how to fight.
But he sure as shit did.
At first? Manny was playing.
Testing. Prodding. Teasing.
Then Danny grabbed his hair—And kicked him in the stomach like he’d done it a hundred times before.
Manny’s grin snapped into something sharper.
Oh. So that’s how it’s gonna be.
Manny dropped low, sweeping his leg out—Taking Danny’s legs with it.
Danny fell—but almost too slow.
Like his body knew how to break the fall before it even happened.
Then, suddenly—they were on the ground.
Rolling. Scrambling. Fighting like two street cats over the last sardine.
Fast. Vicious. Chaotic.
It lasted a few violent, messy moments—Before they were ripped apart.
Ms. Tetslaff had Manny under his arms, lifting him like a pissed-off parent.
Mr. Lancer had Danny by the hoodie, gripping him like he was trying to stop him from committing a felony.
Manny was huffing, grinning—Like a feral cat that just won a fight.
His teeth were red with blood.
He looked wild. And he loved it.
And Danny?
Danny looked just as wrecked.
His mullet stuck out in every direction.
His nose was bleeding.
His knuckles were scraped raw.
And both of them were covered in dirt and grass.
The courtyard was silent. Until—"Great Gatsby! What is wrong with you two?!"
~
Danny yanked himself out of Mr. Lancer’s grip. "He fucking started it!"
Manny’s eyes widened in offended disbelief. "I did NOT!" he bit out—lying through his teeth. "He shoved me off the bench!"
Danny’s whole body bristled. "You son of a—"
"ENOUGH!" Mr. Lancer’s voice boomed through the courtyard. "We’re going to my office. Now!”
Danny couldn’t believe himself.
He’d never let himself be goaded into a fight before.
And he’d been shoved into lockers more times than he could count.
Now?
Now he was bleeding from the nose and knuckles, being paraded through the halls by Mr. Lancer—Like some kind of feral animal.
And Manny?
Manny looked like he was having the time of his life.
His eyes were wild. Ms. Tetslaff was guiding him like an unruly street dog.
And the worst part?
Manny had actually given Danny a run for his money. That fight had been a hell of a lot harder than it should’ve been.
Danny had even—just for a second—Used a little of Phantom’s powers.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Before he could think too hard about it, they were in the vice principal’s office. Mr. Lancer shoved them into two chairs. One at each end of his desk.
"Now. No more problems?"
"Yes, sir." Danny muttered.
"Sí, señor." Manny grinned.
"Good." Mr. Lancer sank into his chair, rubbing his temples. Then he let out a deep sigh.
"Now," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tell me—what in The Odyssey was that?”
Neither of them spoke.
Mr. Lancer rubbed his eyes with a long, exhausted sigh.
Finally, he lazily gestured toward Danny. "Danny, you go first."
Danny let out a breath through his teeth. "Manny has been bothering me nonstop for days!"
"He’s thrown my lunch, spilled my coffee, ruined my science textbook, stolen my homework— And he won’t leave me alone!" It all came out in one frustrated wave.
Mr. Lancer raised an eyebrow and turned to Manny. "Is that true?"
Manny blinked. Then shrugged—"¿No hablas inglés?"
Mr. Lancer’s face twisted.
Like he had just transcended to a new level of exhaustion. "What? No! Who do you think I am, ICE?"
Danny actually had to bite back a laugh.
What the actual fuck.
Manny immediately doubled down. "Bueno, Danny no quiere ser mi amigo—y eso, señor, es un delito. Estoy actuando así porque soy un problema por naturaleza."
Mr. Lancer turned to Danny. Like he somehow expected a translation.
Danny, in true Fenton fashion, just shrugged. "I think that explains why I punched him."
Manny burst into laughter. Loud. Full-bodied. Unhinged. "No, I totally deserved it!"
Mr. Lancer sighed so hard it could have broken the sound barrier. "That’s it. I’m calling your father, Manuel."
The change was instant. Manny shot up, hands on the desk. "¡Aye! Don’t do that! My papá will drive up here from Mexico and kill me. Dead! Just give me detention! Or—I don’t know—make me clean toilets! I’d literally rather clean toilets than have you call my papá!"
Danny blinked. Processing.
Huh.
"You should have thought about that before you terrorized another student," Mr. Lancer said, searching Manny’s face.
"But he hit me first!" Manny whined.
"Uh? Yeah, but you knocked my stuff around," Danny chirped unhelpfully.
Manny whipped around to glare at him. "The lunch tray was because you were being a bully for no reason!"
Then he jabbed a finger at his scarred eye.
"The book and coffee were an accident! Like I told you at the time! I went to give you a pat on the back and missed! I’m literally half-blind. I have negative depth perception."
Danny paused. Then blinked. "Oh." Beat. "So that’s why you ran into the wall.”
"No, I did that because I thought it would look cool to nearly break my nose," Manny bit back.
Danny drew in a deep breath through his nose.
Ready to fire back.
Then Mr. Lancer sliced a hand through the air. "Enough."
They both shut up.
"It's very clear that neither of you are innocent. I’m giving you two days of in-school suspension."
"Danny, you'll be eating in my office for a week."
"Manny, you'll be spending your week with me—during your art class."
Manny bristled, eyes going wide. "Wait—really? Taking away my art class?"
"Yes. It's a punishment, Rivera."
Manny flopped back in his chair, pouting like a kid. "I didn’t even want to come to this stupid school."
It sounded immature. But Danny flinched anyway.
Because for the first time—Manny didn’t sound like he was messing around.
He sounded done.
He sounded genuinely miserable.
Then again. That’s what he gets for being a troublemaking jerk.
"Well, your actions have consequences, Manuel. Both the ones that got you to Casper High—and into my office today." Mr. Lancer’s voice was firm. Disappointed.
Manny didn’t react. He just stared at his hands.
Mr. Lancer let the words linger.
Then he sighed, turning to Danny. "I'm still going to have to call Maddie as well."
Danny sighed and leaned back, looking at the ceiling before flashing a half-hearted grin. "Hey, at least it’s not about my grades or me skipping class this time."
Mr. Lancer rubbed his eyes again. "No. It's about you punching an underclassman in the face. A definite improvement, Mr. Fenton.”
Then he turned back to Manny. "Per the agreement of you attending Casper High—I will have to contact your father about this disciplinary issue, unfortunately."
Manny didn’t say a word. He looked like he had completely checked out.
Danny blinked. The whole room felt… off.
Mr. Lancer grabbed the phone, calling the detention teacher.
And then?
They were herded like punished puppies.
Straight to detention.
Banished. For two days.
Danny couldn’t believe he was in detention.
Again. It had been a while, but still.
He was a chronic C-student. A class-skipper.
This wasn’t new to him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
At least Manny was on the other side of the room.
Danny appreciated that.
Manny melted into his chair, folded his arms and rested his head on the desk.
Danny blinked.
Manny looked… genuinely upset.
The wild, laughing gremlin he’d fought earlier?
Gone.
Just a skulking, silent kid in his place.
Danny wondered why Manny had shut down so hard after hearing his dad was getting called.
Then he rolled his eyes. "Actions have consequences," huh? Yeah. Guess so.
Danny dropped his head onto the desk. Decided he was done thinking about this.
Fuck this day.
Danny didn’t exactly mind being in detention.
It gave him time to nap and catch up on schoolwork, which was rare enough these days.
Manny, on the other hand, did not move the entire time.
Danny wasn’t sure if he was sleeping, sulking, or just waiting to be released like an animal in a trap. But at the end of the day, when they were finally let out, Manny did make sure to flip him off before they parted ways.
Danny just rolled his eyes and started walking home.
He should have expected it.
The moment he stepped inside, his parents were already waiting for him.
"Daniel James Fenton!" His mom’s voice rang through the house. "Mr. Lancer called and told us you’re in detention for fighting!”
Danny barely paused, already irritated. "I didn’t exactly start it."
Jack crossed his arms. "He said you swung first."
"He wouldn’t leave me alone!" Danny shot back. "I’m not in the wrong. He’s just some annoying bully, and I didn’t want to deal with him."
Maddie opened her mouth to argue. Jack looked ready to add something too.
Danny didn’t wait. He bolted up the stairs, slammed the door shut, and threw himself onto his bed.
Danny pressed his hands against his face, groaning into them.
His parents sucked at this kind of thing.
They meant well, sure. But they didn’t get it.
They never had.
And yeah, he swung first.
But Manny deserved it.
Right?
…Right?
Danny sighed and rolled onto his side, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Manny flipping him off before they left detention meant he was still pissed.
That was fine. Danny could live with that.
He didn’t need some obnoxious exchange student making his life harder.
And yet…
Danny knew what it felt like to be on the other side of things.
To be shoved into lockers.
To be humiliated.
To be treated like you didn’t belong.
And for all of Manny’s smug grins and cocky bravado…
Something about the way he was acting felt off.
Danny didn’t like it.
Danny didn’t like the way he was acting either.
Still, he forced his eyes shut. He was probably overthinking it.
Manny was a brat.
That was all there was to it.
He’d deal with it tomorrow.
~
Manny dreaded the end of the school day. Because he knew—he was in deep shit.
Of course, he knew fighting would get him in trouble. But he really hadn’t expected Danny Fenton to straight up brawl with him.
And now, with Señor Lancer calling his dad?
He was so screwed.
Manny had barely made it onto the bus when his phone vibrated.
Papá.
Aye, carajo.
Manny stared at the screen for a second before sighing and answering. "¡Hola!" He forced as much cheer into his voice as possible.
"Manuel Pablo Gutierrez O'Brien Equihua Rivera!" His father’s voice barked through the speaker, rapid and annoyed. "You’ve only been at the new school two weeks and you’ve already gotten into a fight?"
Manny gritted his teeth. "I didn’t start it!" His Spanish betrayed his annoyance. "I’m the victim here!"
"Manny," his dad sighed. "I want to believe you, I do, but with your track record, it’s hard to."
That?
That hit like a slap.
"You can’t keep doing this," Rodolfo continued. "You have to behave. I expect there to be no more issues after this. Bury the hatchet and move on!"
Manny clenched his jaw. He pulled the phone away from his face, exhaling sharply before forcing himself to calm down.
"Sí, Papá. It won’t happen again."
"Good." His father’s voice softened. "Other than the fight, is everything okay up there?"
Manny’s stomach twisted. He didn’t even hesitate before lying through his teeth.
"Things are great."
"It’s fun here. I’ve got some new friends. It’s all working out for me!"
The rest of the conversation was surface level. His father didn’t notice.
Manny just felt that hollow pit in his stomach grow.
Because he knew the truth. He couldn't behave. And it was going to follow him for the rest of his life.
Manny knew his dad wasn’t wrong. But that didn’t make it sting any less.
By the time he got back to his host family, he was ready to be done with this day. They made some offhand comment about the detention.
Manny didn’t defend himself. He didn’t know these people well enough to explain himself anyway.
So instead? He just muttered a half-hearted, "It won’t happen again."
Then he changed into athletic clothes and headed out for a run.
Usually, after a day like this, he’d find some trouble with Frida. They’d run around Miracle City, make some bad choices, burn off the bad feelings with chaos.
But here? He had no one.
So instead? He ran.
The pavement pounded under his feet.
His breath evened out. The energy itching under his skin faded into muscle memory.
Then—A sound he’d never heard before.
Manny slowed. His ears twitched as he glanced around. It sounded like humming.
Then he saw it.
A ghost.
Sure, he’d heard about Amity Park being one of the most haunted cities in the U.S.
But seeing a ghost?
That was different.
Ghosts weren’t a thing in Mexico.
Calacas were.
The undead in Miracle City were skeletons—not this.
But this? This was a full-blown ghost terrorizing a bunch of people in the park.
Manny looked around. No one was stopping it.
Fine. He would.
He ducked behind a tree and took a deep breath. He spun his belt buckle with a flourish.
Then—green flames erupted around him.
The power flooded through his veins. The heat of the transformation settled into his bones like an old friend.
And just like that—El Tigre was back.
He launched himself forward, flipping through the air before slamming down onto the pavement.
He landed with a flourish.
Then he smirked, claws flexing as he stepped between the ghost and the people.
"¡Aye!" Manny called out, voice dripping with confidence. "I don’t believe anyone here is enjoying this one-sided playdate!”
The ghost froze mid-rampage and stared at Manny, blinking like it couldn’t believe what it was seeing.
Manny grinned.
Then—he launched.
His grappling claw shot out, snagging the lame looking ghost midair before slamming it into the ground.
Manny let out a wild, breathless laugh. This—this was what he needed.
The frustration, the anger, the exhaustion—all of it bled out of him as he pounced toward his prey.
"You’re not that punk Phantom!" The ghost groaned as it launched itself just out of reach.
Manny shot him a sharp, cocky grin. "I’m no fantasma! I’m El Tigre!"
Then he used the momentum to launch himself upward, landing a few solid punches in quick, sharp jabs.
The ghost blocked a couple—but not all of them.
"El Tigre?" The ghost wheezed as their fight continued.
Manny didn’t respond.
Instead? He grabbed the ghost, spun midair, and brought it crashing back down.
The impact shook the ground.
Manny blinked. He had the ghost pinned.
…Now what?
What was he supposed to do with it?
Back home, he’d drop Miracle City villains off at jail.
But ghosts didn’t go to jail.
Was there even a ghost jail?
Manny scowled. Maybe he should just keep hitting it until it gave up.
Then—"Hey!" A voice rang out across the park. "What on earth are you doing with that ghost?"
Manny’s muscles tensed.
A trap?
He didn’t look up. Not yet.
"Holding him in place!" He shot back, keeping his eyes locked on the captive ghost.
Then—boots landed in front of him.
Bright white and glowing.
Manny blinked, finally looking up.
Standing over him was—A white-haired kid. Black jumpsuit. Green, glowing eyes.
Another ghost.
The new ghost crossed his arms and frowned.
"Okay, what the hell? Why is a furry fighting ghosts?"
Manny’s tail fluffed out in annoyance. "I’m not a furry! It’s themed! I didn’t pick it!"
The ghost shook his head, looking genuinely confused. Then he sliced his hand through the air.
"Never mind that. Why are you fighting a ghost?"
Manny scoffed, like the answer was painfully obvious.
"He was attacking people."
The ghost on the ground groaned loudly. "I’m still here! Phantom, get this lunatic off me!"
The white-haired kid—Phantom?—just sighed.
"I’m not helping you, Johnny." He crossed his arms. "Where’s Shadow?"
"With Kitty."
"Don’t call me Kitty." Manny grumbled.
Johnny blinked. "What? No, my girlfriend."
Manny squinted.
Ghosts… had girlfriends?
Ghosts had relationships?
That wasn’t a thing in Miracle City. Then again, Sartana had a grandkid.
Manny’s brain was breaking a little.
Phantom let out the longest, most exhausted sigh.
Then he pulled out what looked like an ancient metal thermos.
Manny barely had time to register what was happening before Phantom popped the cap open.
A green vortex erupted from the thermos—and Johnny’s body began to pull apart.
His form twisted, vaporizing into mist as he got sucked inside.
But at the same time—A weird sensation crawled through Manny’s chest.
Like something inside of him was getting yanked from the inside out.
His stomach churned. His claws flexed involuntarily.
And then—just as suddenly as it started—It stopped.
Phantom snapped the thermos shut.
Manny let out a sharp breath, shaking off the weird sensation.
What the hell was that?
Manny blinked at the ghost boy with flaming white hair. "Did… did you soup him?"
Phantom stared. Then—he laughed. "That’s one way to put it."
After a moment, he hooked the thermos to his white belt before his glowing green eyes narrowed.
"What the hell are you doing? Fighting crime untrained is dangerous."
Manny gasped. The most offended, dramatic gasp he could possibly manage.
He immediately stood up straighter, crossing his arms. "Untrained?! I’ve been fighting crime for years!"
Phantom tilted his head. "Then why haven’t I seen you before?"
Manny narrowed his eyes. "I’m new in town."
Phantom’s expression didn’t budge. "I don’t believe you."
And without another word—A blast of green energy shot from his hand.
Manny’s instincts kicked in instantly.
He launched into the air, flipping backward as the blast slammed into the pavement.
His grappling claw fired, latching onto a lamppost, and he swung himself up, landing lightly on top of it.
Perched like an unimpressed cat on a Christmas tree.
He blinked down at Phantom.
"Uh? Rude?" He deadpanned. "I just caught your bad guy for you!”
"The last several people who tried to 'help' me also tried to kill me!" Phantom snapped, his legs dissolving into mist as he floated up beside Manny.
Manny tilted his head. "Sounds like you’ve got bad friends."
He shifted his stance, perfectly balanced on top of the lamppost.
"Unless you give me a reason to attack you, I won’t. But if you keep blasting that ghost goop at me? I’ll definitely consider that a reason."
Phantom’s eyes narrowed. "Do you have actual powers, or are you just a well-trained furry?"
Manny yowled. "Stop calling me a furry!"
Then, just to prove a point, he tossed his grappling claws aside—but instead of dropping, they hovered midair, completely under his control.
With a sharp flick of his wrist, they snapped back into his hands.
Then—A roar of spectral green flames erupted around him.
The fire flared violently—intense, alive—before vanishing just as fast.
Phantom instantly tensed.
His breath curled into a visible cloud of blue mist.
His ghost sense.
His hostile glare shifted—just a little—to curiosity.
But he was still wary.
Phantom circled him slowly, floating around the lamppost.
"So… this is a costume?" Phantom asked, eyeing him. "How does the tail move so well? Did you make it?"
Then, without warning—He grabbed Manny’s tail and pulled.
Manny let out an enraged yowl, body twisting unnaturally as he let out a feral hiss. "¡Aye! That's attached!”
Manny immediately swiped at Phantom, claws flashing.
"I will fight you if you keep fucking with me!"
His ears pinned flat against his head, tail bristling.
Phantom tilted his head, dodging effortlessly. "So, you’re actually a cat?"
Manny’s eye twitched. "Sometimes! El Tigre! Thank you," he snapped, voice a furious growl.
Then— offended beyond reason —he jumped down, landing hard.
He glared up at the floating ghost, hands on his hips. "¡Díos! No wonder your friends try to fight you!"
Phantom just floated lazily downward.
His legs reformed, and he landed with a stupid amount of grace.
Then—with the most casual curiosity—"Are the ears real as well?"
Manny’s entire body went rigid.
His ears pinned back.
His claws flexed.
His voice dropped into a deadly hiss. "If you play with or pull on my ears, I swear to God, I’m punching you into next week.”
Phantom raised an eyebrow. Then—a slow, knowing smirk. "So… if I asked first, would that make it better?"
Manny froze.
His brain completely short-circuited.
Then he felt his entire face ignite. "W-What?"
Phantom tilted his head, floating a little closer.
"I mean, you seem really mad about it." His grin sharpened. "Thought I’d at least ask this time."
Manny physically malfunctioned.
That was—that was flirting.
Oh, great. This guy was a weirdo.
Manny’s tail bristled. His ears pinned flat.
Then—he let out another feral hiss before launching himself at Phantom once again.
Phantom burst out laughing as he dodged. "Wow! No need to get violent!"
“Violence is the only reasonable response!” Manny twisted midair—then decked the ghost in the stomach.
Phantom actually let out a surprised little ‘oof!’
Manny landed on his feet, baring his teeth. "What are you? A pervert?”
Manny immediately lashed out with his grappling claw—And in one fluid motion, he yanked Phantom out of the air and slammed him into the pavement.
Phantom landed hard.
Then, to Manny’s absolute fury—He giggled.
The ghost laid there, arms pinned, tangled in the rope.
Laughing!
He flickered, trying to phase—and blinked when he realized he couldn’t.
"Huh." Phantom hummed, completely at ease. Then, almost casually, he rested his head back against the pavement. "Been a long time since anyone’s managed to catch me."
Manny ignored him.
His tail flicked violently as he stormed closer, looming over him. A determined look on his face. “It's inappropriate to ask to touch people's ears!”
Phantom blinked up at him, unfazed.
Manny’s ears pinned flat again as his rant kept going. "How would you feel if some random stranger—who just attacked you, by the way—suddenly asked to touch your ears?!"
His tail lashed furiously. "That's like… vaguely sexual?” Manny skidded to a stop, breathing hard. He retracted his claw and let Phantom out.
Phantom laughed— again —before he pulled himself back onto his feet.
Manny was a wreck. His face burned under his mask. He could not believe this shit.
He would never admit it out loud, but his ears were sensitive.
Incredibly so.
But that was his knowledge.
And no one else needed to know that.
Ever.
His eyes flicked to Phantom. Who was grinning like a fool, “Well, you still never answered my question.”
Manny's brain made an extremely calculated decision.
Then— without warning —Manny launched himself forward, twisting midair—And slammed both boots into Phantom’s chest with full force.
The impact made Phantom go flying.
He hit the pavement so hard it cracked beneath him.
The ghost did not laugh this time.
He groaned, dizzy.
His head lolled slightly as he tried to focus.
"Okay." He wheezed, blinking up at Manny. "Trained fighter it is. Nice.” A wink.
Manny landed beside him, breathing fast, eyes still burning.
His tail lashed.
His face was still flushed under the mask.
He was still being flirted with.
And somehow that felt wilder than the fight.
Manny crossed his arms, scowling down at the ghost. "Are you insane?"
Phantom grinned up at him, still sprawled on the pavement like he wasn't just drop-kicked into the earth. "Clinically."
Manny sputtered.
Phantom smirked, tilting his head. "You seem to like it." He sat up and the only indication that Manny had leveled him was a slight groan.
Then his eyes flickered over Manny’s face.
And he smiled.
"That blush makes your freckles stand out." His grin widened, all teeth. "It’s really cute."
Manny’s mouth dropped open.
His brain completely stopped working.
His heart skipped a beat.
The flirt landed like a targeted missile.
Manny could feel it hit, right in his goddamn soul.
For the first time in a long time—he had no comeback.
Phantom grinned even wider, all sharp teeth and smug amusement. "Oh, your blush got darker!"
Manny’s fists balled up. His tail bristled. His whole body burned. “Because you're still flirting with me!”
Phantom sat up, elbows resting lazily on his knees. His grin tilted, like this was the funniest thing in the world. "I mean? Why wouldn’t I?"
Manny’s entire brain short-circuited once again.
Full blue screen.
No. Nope. Absolutely not.
He could not handle this much flirting
Without another word, he spun on his heel, launched his grappling claw, and fled.
He swung between trees, over buildings, through the city.
His heart pounded in his ears.
His face was still burning.
Manny was flustered.
Horribly, deeply, unreasonably flustered.
Today had been way too much.
He shook himself out, running a hand through his wild curls.
What was with that ghost?
Who the hell just—talked like that?!
Who just flirted like that?!
And with him?!
Manny let out a sharp breath, trying to clear his head.
But— ugh.
He couldn’t help it.
His ego gave a smug little purr.
Being hit on was kind of nice.
Especially after the absolute garbage day he’d had.
Manny paced his room, tail flicking behind him.
Okay.
Okay.
New plan.
He needed to find Phantom again.
Not because he liked the flirting.
Not because it made his heart do stupid things.
Not because he wanted to hear more of it.
No, no. Absolutely not.
It was just strategy.
Yeah.
That’s what it was.
He needed an ally. Someone to get close to.
Ghost or not, it could be useful.
Yeah. Yeah, this could be good.
~
Manny was in a Mood.
He barely slept.
His body was still buzzing from his fight with Phantom. And the flirting.
The ghost boy was hot.
Like. Really hot.
And the worst part?
Phantom had flirted with him first.
Manny scowled as he slumped lower in his seat. The bus rumbled along the road, the other students talking and laughing around him.
He wasn’t in the mood for any of it.
His fingers drummed against his knee.
It had to be a fluke, right?
His stomach twisted uncomfortably. He just hoped this wasn’t Black Cuervo all over again.
Hope was a dangerous thing.
Manny shoved the thought down and forced himself to focus on something else.
Like how he had another day of detention today.
Great.
Fantastic.
Amazing.
Just what he needed.
He gritted his teeth, eyes flicking out the window.
He had to get a handle on this, before detention became his second home.
…Again.
Manny officially had no more patience.
He made it to school and sighed, already dreading the day ahead.
Another detention. Another boring class. Another tasteless, cardboard-flavored American meal to shove into his mouth.
He hated this place.
But then—he saw him.
Danny Fenton.
Sitting at his usual table, laughing with his stupid friends like nothing had happened.
Manny’s stomach rolled.
Oh, so it’s just another normal day for him, huh?
Like he didn’t shove Manny into the dirt?
Like he didn’t help get him in trouble?
Like he didn’t treat him like some annoying, pathetic joke?
Manny’s lip curled.
Danny looked up.
Their eyes met.
Blue locked onto brown.
Danny narrowed his eyes.
Manny couldn’t resist.
He flipped him off.
Fuck him.
And fuck his lame-ass friends, too.
Danny blinked—just for a second—before he returned the gesture.
Manny snorted, sticking his nose in the air as he marched into the lunch line.
Fine.
Danny Fenton clearly unlocked the villain route in Manny’s story.
Manny had tried to be nice.
Tried to make a friend.
But if Danny was so determined to be an asshole?
Then fuck it.
Enemies it is.