AN: Hey everyone! It's me again, going through a few of the chapters and changing a few minor details so that this story is more in sync with its sequel, 'Sam's Poetry Journal' (which you should totally check out!). So if you see that this story was updated, that's all that changed. New readers: I hope you enjoy!
AND DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN DP. GO FIGURE.
Danny Fenton raced down the halls, hoping to get to not miss too much of English class. He had just sucked Skulker into the Fenton thermos, and the fight lasted longer than he thought it would.
In other words, he was late. But it's not like that that was new or anything.
He made it to the door to Mr. Lancer's room, stopped to lean on the door handle to take a breath, and opened the door quietly, hoping against all odds that for once he could sneak in unnoticed.
"Late again, Mr. Fenton," Mr. Lancer called as Danny slipped into the room. So much for hoping. Danny just nodded numbly, still panting from exhaustion, and took his seat, doing his best to ignore the snickers of his classmates. He rest his head on his desk, having only got a few hours of sleep last night due to ghost fighting, and gave Sam and Tucker, who sat on either side of him, a half-hearted wave.
Mr. Lancer continued on with whatever-he-was-babbling-about-now. "Okay, for your semester grade- Mr. Fenton! Is my class not important enough for you to stay awake in?" Danny jerked up out of his seat, surprised at the suddenly loud sound. His classmates laughed, including Sam and Tucker who at least tried to stifle their giggles. Groaning, Danny stared at the teacher in exasperation.
"Now. As I was saying, 30 percent of your grade will be tied up in this project. What is the project, you wonder? You will each be required to write a poem about a particular subject and read it in front of the class. The poem can be long or short; the only requirement is that the particular subject you are choosing MUST be the first word of your poem. Am I understood?" the teacher asked his class. "I will take the blank looks as yesses. The poem is due in a week- next Monday- and that is when you will be presenting. If we run out of time Monday, the rest of you will present on Wednesday. You may now take the rest of this class period to get started on your poems. I am looking forward to seeing what creative poems you guys can come up with."
The class all took out their pencils and a piece of paper, and most of them started writing out potential topic ideas. Most. Some students already knew what they were writing about, and just started writing their poems.
Danny, Tucker, and Sam, however, were passing notes back and forth trying to help each other come up with the ideas. The piece of paper they shared looked somewhat like this.
Tucker's pencil: So… what are you guys doing for your topics?
Danny's pen: Not sure. Sam?
Sam's black marker: I'm doing my poem about death. You know what you're doing yet Tucker?
I think I might write about love.
You're going to write a poem about your PDA?
And how you two fell in love at first sight?
Haha, very funny. Forget love. I think I'm going to write about friendship.
Well, it's not death , but that's not a bad topic. Come up with anything yet, Danny?
No… any ideas?
You could write about destruction.
Erm… no thanks.
You could write about courage.
But what would Danny FENTON know about courage? We have to read these in front of the class you know.
I know… hey! Maybe I could write a poem on astronomy! That'd be cool.
Well, it's not death, but it's not a bad idea. Especially for you.
Sounds good to me.
"Are you three passing notes?" Mr. Lancer's angry voice cut through the semi-silence. The teacher was now standing in front of the three friends, more specifically in front of Danny, who was currently housing the piece of paper.
"N-no?" Danny stuttered, hoping the teacher wouldn't take and read the piece of paper.
Mr. Lancer reached down and took the piece of paper out of Danny's shaking hands, the student's terrified facial expression sparking laughter from many of his classmates. Seeing that Danny needed help, Sam spoke up. "we were passing notes, Mr. Lancer, to help each other come up with topic ideas. So if you would please give us back our paper, we would really appreciate it." The Goth's words came out sarcastically, yet what she said was (somewhat) true. After quickly scanning over the page and seeing what she said was true, Mr. Lancer handed Danny back the paper.
"Keep your ideas, Mr. Fenton, Miss Manson, and Mr. Foley, just don't let me see you passing notes in my class again." Danny quickly crumpled up the paper- they had their ideas, they just didn't want anyone else reading them- and passed it to Sam, who sat next to the recycling been. Sam unrumpled the note, ripped it to shreds, and tossed the remains into the bin.
The bell rang, and the class exited the classroom, Danny and his friends grateful that for once a ghost didn't attack during the middle class. All except for one student. Dash Baxter stayed behind. Once Mr. Lancer turned his back to grade some papers, he grabbed some shreds of paper out of the recycling been. Unfortunately- or fortunately, depending on whose side you're on- a lot of the small slips fell through the jock's fingers and back into the recycling. Deciding to just quit while he was ahead, Dahs took the few that had remained in his hands and headed for his locker. Once there, Dash took a look at the slips. One read "anything yet, Danny?". Another read "your PDA?". Go figure, Dash thought sarcastically, Technurd's gonna write about his precious PDA. The last lip was the largest. It read "poem on astronomy! That'd be cool.". Wow Fenturd, Dash thought, You sure have a messed up definition of cool.
With that last thought, Dash grabbed his books, closed his locker, and headed for the math classroom, thinking about the strange assignment and Fentina's nerdy topic all the way.
AN: That's it for the first chapter! Which students should write a poem? What should their topics be? You guys decide by leaving comments! Thanks for reading