Mr. Lancer was late. He hated to be late. As such, he was racing through traffic - in a controlled, safe way, of course - towards the school. At this point, as he swerved to avoid a cat running across the street, his only hope was that Daniel Fenton wasn't later than he was. That boy had been a star pupil, his favourite. Then he started coming in late all the time, skipping lessons altogether and his grades plummeted! Not only that, but recently Lancer had noticed bruises on his arms under a long sleeved t-shirt. Danny never wore long sleeved t-shirts. Now he wore them always. Lancer had no idea what to do about his failing pupil. His consistent punishment didn't work and from what he could tell, Danny had joined a gang! And yet, despite all that, Danny seemed to really try and never seemed like the gang type. Conclusion; Mr. Lancer was very confused and very fed up. But, he was very curious. How does an intelligent, well behaved young man suddenly - and it was suddenly - become a trouble maker who never brought in homework and always skipped school?
Ah, at last he had reached the school. First he would go in and force his class to settle down and then he would tell them all about the wonders of Charles Dickens! Yes, the perfect lesson! Walking to the back of his car, he opened up the boot and pulled out a stack of books and homeworks. Staggering a little, he heaved the books onto his hip and locked his car. At a snails pace, he moved towards the building.
Lancer could hear the noise his students were making from the other end of the English corridor. Groaning, he stepped up his pace lightly. Not again! He reached the classroom door and, keys in his mouth, opened the door in an amazing feat of a balancing act. Wobbling into the room and kicking the door closed, he dropped the books on his desk and collapsed into his chair to assess the situation. All but one of the desks had been carelessly shoved to the edges of his classroom and chairs were scattered about the room, all facing the centre and each with a cheering teen occupying it. In the centre was a single desk and two chairs. Dash was arm wresting with Kwan. Lancer rolled his eyes and was prepared to order them to settle down when one Daniel Fenton entered the room. "Daniel, you're on time."
"... y... yeah..." He said, stretching his arms behind him.
Lancer frowned. He must be tired. Danny dragged himself over to a chair and fell asleep almost immediately. Moments later, Dash cheered his victory. "Who's next? I need a challenge!" No one stood up to meet Dash's invite. Dash sneered and scanned the room. "Daniel Fenton."
Lancer decided to continue watching , this might just be interesting. Danny raised his head, bleary eyed. "... Dash?" He questioned, blinking his eyes gently.
"Get over here Fenton! I'm gonna beat you in arm wrestling cause your a wimp!"
"No thanks, Dash."
Danny groaned as he he was dragged over by a brunette jock and dumped into the chair. "... Fine... but only one round, then sleep."
"That's all I need to beat you, Fenturd."
The two boys, polar opposites, rested their elbows on the table. Dash pushed... and was met with no resistance. "Oh look... you won... bye!"
Danny stood and was yanked back into his seat. "Put up a fight!" He rolled his eyes at Dash's remark. Fine, if Dash wanted that then he'd supply. Way too tired to think of the consequences, Danny placed his elbow on the table once more. When Dash pushed, he just held his arm there. He gave no push, just matched Dash in strength. "Hey, your not this strong!"
"Maybe I am, Dash."
"You must be cheating!"
"Not really something you can cheat in."
Fed up, Danny gave a push. Bang! Hand slammed into the table, Dash whined. Goodbye, pride! Then Dash noticed that Danny's long sleeves had risen during their fight. He narrowed his eyes. Scars? It this what Danny has been hiding? "Hey, Dan? What are those scars fr-" Dash was abruptly cut of by Danny's tight squeeze on his hand that threatened to break or even crush a his bones if more pressure were added.
"Never call me Dan. I am not him. He was evil." Danny stated without emotion. Green flashed in his eyes, something not unnoticed by viewers.
"Y -your eyes..."
Too tired to hold his anger, Danny let the rings travel up his body. White hair flamed at Dash. "Don't call me that again." Danny sunk into the ground. Dash stared.
"What TF just happened?!"