[Danny Fenton's Pov]
I stood before Jazz's half-opened bedroom door, fidgeting in place like a complete idiot. My hands couldn't decide whether to shove themselves in my pockets, scratch at the back of my neck, or just hang there limply. Damn it, why did this have to be so hard? It's just Jazz. My sister. Nothing unusual about walking into her room, right?
…Except it was unusual.
It's not weird that I want to spend ti with her, is it? No, no, that's perfectly normal.
…Right?
Of course not!! Who the hell actually wants to spend ti with their older sibling? Nobody, that's who! A crazy person. Or worse—a desperate little brother with zero social life.
I peeked through the door. Jazz was perched on her study desk with her back turned toward , headphones over both ears. She flipped through her book with her usual calm composure, totally absorbed in whatever big-brain college-level thing she was reading. Not exactly the picture of soone who had ti to deal with barging in.
She's busy. She has howork. Probably so essay due or extra credit assignnt only she would care about. Why would she want hanging around, wasting her ti? If I went in now, I'd just be annoying her.
And yet, here I was, frozen in the hallway like an idiot who couldn't make a simple decision. I'd literally and figuratively faced death more tis than I could count. I'd stared into the abyss without blinking. And yet here I was, struggling with the single hardest task in existence: asking my sister if she wanted to hang out.
BUT SERIOUSLY, WHO THE HELL ASKS THEIR SISTER TO HANG OUT?! UGHHHHH!
I groaned and started rhythmically bonking my forehead with my fist, each knock punctuating my frustration. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. What the hell am I doing?" I muttered under my breath, already turning to retreat back down the hall before I embarrassed myself even further.
But Jazz must have sensed the waves of restless energy radiating off , because her calm voice cut through the silence. "Danny?"
I froze.
When I turned, she had swiveled in her chair, pulling one headphone off. Her gaze was sharp but not unkind, brows arched in faint curiosity. "Is sothing the matter?"
My mouth dried up instantly. Think, Danny, THINK. Say literally anything. I swallowed and stamred, "I, uh—midterms. They're about to start, and I was wondering if you could… help study?"
It was technically a lie. Okay, more like a half-truth. Midterms were around the corner, but I didn't need her help. I just couldn't bring myself to say the actual reason—that I just wanted to hang out with her for no particular reason at all.
Her lips curled into a knowing little smile, the kind that imdiately made regret opening my mouth. "Yeah, Danny," she chuckled softly, "sure. I don't mind helping you study."
"Cool. Great. Aweso. I'll, uh… just go grab my bag." I spun on my heel because I hadn't even brought a book with . I was winging every second of this.
When I returned a few minutes later, Jazz was sitting cross-legged on her bed. She patted the space directly in front of her, silently instructing to sit. I obeyed, dropping onto the mattress and fumbling through my bag like I'd just discovered it was full of alien tech instead of textbooks.
The entire ti, she just watched , amusent flickering across her face. It was unnerving. Finally, I snapped, "What? Why are you looking at like that?"
She laughed lightly, tilting her head. "Danny, if you wanted to spend ti together, all you had to do was ask." Her eyes glead with that annoying older-sibling look that said she already had all figured out.
I stared blankly, refusing to give her the satisfaction. "What are you talking about? Why would I want to hang out with you? I can think of a thousand better things to do. If I wanted company, I'd have just called Tucker." I straightened up, doing my best to sound insulted. "I'm here out of necessity."
Jazz rolled her eyes . She didn't believe for a single second—hell, I didn't believe . I was full of shit, but there was no way I was about to admit it out loud.
"You're acting defensive, Danny," she said matter-of-factly, like she was giving a lecture. "That's a textbook sign of lying. Over-explaining, using too many words—it's all a way to distract from what you're really trying to hide." She sounded less like my sister and more like a psychology professor.
I slumped forward with a sigh. "Are you going to help study or not?" I asked flatly, desperate to move away from the topic before she dismantled further.
Jazz gave a tiny, smug smile but finally relented. "Fine, fine. Let's see what you've got."
As the minutes passed, she started noticing sothing I was desperately hoping she wouldn't—that I didn't really need much help at all. My answers ca too easily, my notes were already in order, and I breezed through questions without hesitation.
"Seriously, Danny, what you need most of all is simply repetition in order to fully commit what you learn to mory," Jazz said, shaking her head with a small smile. "You really don't need any help—you're a lot smarter than you make yourself out to be."
"Sure doesn't always feel like it…" I muttered under my breath, not really intending for her to hear. But of course, Jazz's ears were sharp, and her expression softened instantly at my words.
"Well," she said gently, reaching out and placing her hand over mine, "you can't always be smart. Even smart people make stupid decisions most of the ti. What makes you smart is how you choose to correct those mistakes."
I didn't know how to respond to that. My throat tightened as I exhaled slowly, shutting my book with a soft thud before setting it aside. I couldn't bring myself to et her eyes, so I stared at the floor, muttering, "I… did actually want to spend ti with you. I just didn't know how to go about it, and I didn't want to make it weird."
Jazz's smile grew warr, her eyes brightening as she closed her own book and placed it neatly on the nightstand. That simple action carried a lot of weight—it was like she was saying, 'I'm listening, you have my full attention.' "Danny," she said softly, "we're family. It doesn't have to be weird. I would never turn down the chance to spend ti with you."
She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around , pulling into a firm, comforting hug. "Even if all we talk about is sothing pointless and inconsequential, it doesn't matter," she whispered against my shoulder. "What matters is that we're doing it together."
Sothing inside eased at those words. My shoulders relaxed, and before I knew it, a smile tugged at my lips. Against all odds, I felt completely at peace. I knew I shouldn't—but there was no helping it.
When she finally pulled back, she looked at with hopeful curiosity. "Alright then," she said brightly, "co on. Share with sothing interesting that's been going on in your life. It can be anything—sothing from the past you never told , or sothing recent. I want to hear it."
I blinked, thrown off. "Wait a second, why do I have to share? Why can't you?" I shot back defensively. Truth was, I didn't really have much I felt like sharing… well, okay, I did have one thing, but it was way too embarrassing to talk about with my sister.
"Because," Jazz said with a shrug, grabbing a pillow to hug against her lap, "my life's basically just studying and learning. There's nothing remotely interesting in that. You, on the other hand, get into all sorts of things. So I figured you'd have more to share than ." She leaned forward expectantly, raising her brows like she was challenging to prove her right.
I groaned, scratching at my cheek in embarrassnt. "Oh, whatever. Fine. Well… Sam and I have started to… uh… recently date. So there's that."
The effect was instantaneous. Jazz froze like a statue, her entire body going stiff. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. For a second she didn't even breathe—then she exploded.
"WHAT?!" she shrieked so loudly my ears rang. "Why am I only now hearing about this?! When did it begin? Who asked out who? What happened? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!"
I winced, covering my ears with both hands. "Alright, alright, loudmouth, you don't need to shout! I'm right here!"
But Jazz was already grabbing the pillow from her lap and whacking square across the head. Whump.
"How. Could. You. Keep. Sothing. So. Important. From. ?!" she punctuated each word with another smack, her face a mixture of outrage and giddy excitent.
"Oi! Stop hitting !" I shouted, diving for another one of her pillows and swinging it back at her. "It only happened recently! Calm down, you maniac!"
"Liar!" she accused between laughs as we clashed pillows again and again. "You still should have told sooner!"
"OW! Hey! Don't hit my face!" She yelped as my pillow caught square on the nose.
"You literally started it?!" I snapped back.
Within seconds, the 'study session' devolved into a full-blown pillow war, feathers threatening to escape from the seams as we swung with reckless abandon.
The chaos only escalated when Jazz jumped off the bed and, with a wicked grin, shouted, "MOM! DAD! DANNY'S DATING—"
I panicked and tackled her mid-sentence. She let out a startled yelp as we tumbled onto the floor, wrestling in a tangle of limbs. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I hissed, trying to cover her mouth with my hand.
"OW! Did you just bite ?!" I cried out in disbelief as sharp pain shot through my fingers.
"Don't bite back! What's wrong with you?!" Jazz screeched, squirming beneath as we rolled across the carpet.
Within monts, we had abandoned pillows entirely, shifting into amateur wrestling moves as if we were trying to make the other tap out. It was ridiculous—utterly, completely ridiculous—but neither of us stopped.
Finally, exhausted and out of breath, we collapsed on all fours in front of each other, panting like we had just run a marathon. Our hair stuck to our foreheads, our arms ached, and our faces were flushed.
We glared at each other for a few tense seconds… but then our lips started twitching. First mine, then hers, until both of us burst into uncontrollable laughter. We rolled onto the carpet, laughing so hard our sides hurt, the earlier fight already forgotten.
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